Opt Out of a Body Scan? Then Brace Yourself - November 2, 2010

HAVING been taught by nuns in grade school and later going through military boot camp, I have always disliked uniformed authorities shouting at me. So I was unhappy last week when some security screeners at’Hare International Airport in Chicago started yelling.

“Opt out! We got an opt out!” one bellowed about me in a tone that people in my desert neighborhood in Tucson usually reserve for declaring, “Rattlesnake!”

Other screeners took up the “Opt out!” shout. I was marched from the metal detector lane to one of those nearby whole-body imagers, ordered to take everything out of my pockets, remove my belt and hold my possessions up high. Then I was required to stand still while I received a rough pat-down by a man whose résumé, I suspected, included experience at a state prison.

“Hold your pants up!” he ordered me.

What did I do to deserve this? Well, as I approached the checkpoints, I had two choices. One was a familiar lane with the metal detector, so I put my bag on that. To my right was a separate lane dominated with what the Transportation Security Administration initially called “whole-body imagers” but has now labeled “advanced imaging technology” units. Critics, of course, call them strip-search machines.

I don’t like these things, and not just because of privacy concerns or because of what some critics have asserted are radiation safety issues with some of the machines that use X-ray technology.

No, I don’t like the fact that I have to remove every item from every pocket, including my wallet and things as trivial as a Kleenex. You then strike a pose inside with your hands submissively held above your head, like some desperado cornered by the sheriff in a Western movie, while the see-through-clothes machine makes an image of your body.

The T.S.A.’s position is that anyone can “opt out” of a body scan for reasons of privacy or whatever, but will then be subjected to a thorough physical pat-down and careful search of belongings.

In my case, I had been routinely using a normal metal detector checkpoint, when I was ordered to switch lanes and instead go to one of the new machines. I said I would prefer not to, given that my carry-on bag, laptop and shoes were already trundling along the regular machine’s conveyor belt, out of sight. That’s when the shouting started.

As of Monday afternoon, the agency had not responded to several requests for comment on this. Last week, the agency did tell me that there were 317 of the advanced imaging technology machines now in use at 65 airports around the country.

About 500 should be online by the end of the year, the agency said, and another 500 are expected to be installed next year. Ultimately, the agency plans to have the new machines replace metal detectors at all of the roughly 2,000 airport checkpoints.

Meanwhile, both passengers and security screeners are making accommodations, and I acknowledge, change is a challenge. But hey, security folks, could we please start communicating better about the procedures, preferably without shouting or insulting our intelligence?

Bruce Delahorne, a marketing executive who flies frequently, said he was also recently going through a standard metal detector at O’Hare — no body imager in sight — when the old rules abruptly changed.

Mr. Delahorne said: “They had one of the T.S.A. staff announcing loudly: ‘Take everything out of your pockets. If you have a wallet, take it out. A handkerchief, out.’ I asked the guy, ‘Can you explain the reason for the new process?’ He said there was nothing new. ‘We have always done this.’ ”

Well, no they haven’t, as you and I and Mr. Delahorne all know. Mr. Delahorne said he thought, “O.K., I get it. This guy is reading from the card, not talking to me.”

So, Mr. Delahorne said, “I did what they told me to. But on the other side of the metal detector, I said to another screener, ‘Could you explain to me why the procedure is now different at this airport, like having to remove a wallet that never set off the metal detector?’ And he said, ‘No, no. The process has always been the same, at every airport.’ ”

Mr. Delahorne said he was perfectly willing to comply with all procedures to ensure good security. He just wondered whether some of them were being made up on the spot. “For me,” he said, “the issue is, who’s in charge here and what are the rules?”

RFID Tag System

(Wal-Mart RFID tags to Track Clothing.   A Wal-Mart employee uses a handheld scanner to read EPC labels on men's denim jeans.)
Radio-frequency identi­fication (RFID) tags are embedded in a growing number of personal items and identity documents. Because the tags were designed to be powerful tracking devices and they typically incorporate little security, people wearing or carrying them are vulnerable to surreptitious surveillance and profiling. Worldwide, legislators have done little to address those risks to citizens. If you live in a state bordering Canada or Mexico, you may soon be given an opportunity to carry a very high tech item: a remotely readable driver's license. Designed to identify U.S. citizens as they approach the nation's borders, the cards are being promoted by the Department of Homeland Security as a way to save time and simplify border crossings. But if you care about your safety and privacy as much as convenience, you might want to think twice before signing up.

The new licenses come equipped with radio-frequency identification (RFID) tags that can be read right through a wallet, pocket or purse from as far away as 30 feet. Each tag incorporates a tiny microchip encoded with a unique identification number. As the bearer approaches a border station, radio energy broadcast by a reader device is picked up by an antenna connected to the chip, causing it to emit the ID number. By the time the license holder reaches the border agent, the number has already been fed into a Homeland Security database, and the traveler's photograph and other details are displayed on the agent's screen.

Although such "enhanced" driver's licenses remain voluntary in the states that offer them, privacy and security experts are concerned that those who sign up for the cards are unaware of the risk: anyone with a readily available reader device—unscrupulous marketers, government agents, stalkers, thieves and just plain snoops—can also access the data on the licenses to remotely track people without their knowledge or consent. What is more, once the tag's ID number is associated with an individual's identity—for example, when the person carrying the license makes a credit-card transaction—the radio tag becomes a proxy for that individual. And the driver's licenses are just the latest addition to a growing array of "tagged" items that consumers might be wearing or carrying around, such as transit and toll passes, office key cards, school IDs, "contactless" credit cards, clothing, phones and even groceries.

RFID tags have been likened to barcodes that broadcast their information, and the comparison is apt in the sense that the tiny devices have been used mainly for identifying parts and inventory, including cattle, as they make their way through supply chains. Instead of having to scan every individual item's Universal Product Code (UPC), a warehouse worker can register the contents of an entire pallet of, say, paper towels by scanning the unique serial number encoded in the attached RFID tag. That number is associated in a central database with a detailed list of the pallet's contents. But people are not paper products. During the past decade a shift toward embedding chips in individual consumer goods and, now, official identity documents has created a new set of privacy and security problems precisely because RFID is such a powerful tracking technology. Very little security is built into the tags themselves, and existing laws offer people scant protection from being surreptitiously tracked and profiled while living an increasingly tagged life.