corrente

The very fine Philly Inquirer writer Stephan Salisbury did a piece a few days ago that I am only now getting around to, on the subject of Just How Secure Do We Want to Be?

It's about Independence Hall in Philadelphia, the building where the Declaration was signed and the Constitution written. On that latter day, Benjamin Franklin pointed at the chair in which George Washington had sat to preside over the assembly, and noted the carving of the sun. He said that he had been unsure whether it was depicted rising or setting. He said the successful completion of the work reassured him that the sun was indeed rising, that a new nation was being born.

The piece is rather long, and the details are of interest primarily to Philadelphians and history nuts. I revere Independence Hall above almost any other structure in America, and I don't envy anyone who has to make decisions about how to make it safe--REASONABLY safe--from attack.

But not till now has a hardheaded person sat back and analyzed not just the question of what we want to protect these structures from, but what we're protecting them for.

When consultant William G. Chadwick agreed to examine security issues surrounding Independence Hall on behalf of an area citizens group, his first thought was that Independence National Historical Park probably had it right: Block off Chestnut Street forever.

Now, Chadwick's analysis - the only look at park security not funded by the government - is again relevant, as the park wrestles with security issues amid controversy over a recent proposal to build a fence and screening facility on Independence Square and the prospect of an unscheduled forum promised by the park.

What are the likely threats to the park? What areas are likely targets for a terrorist attack? What safeguards can be deployed to protect buildings? What about people? What effect will safeguards have on the park, visitors and the city? Are the protections worth the cost of deployment? And is the park even looking at the right issues?

"You can calculate and actually quantify a risk using a graph," he said. "One axis is the likelihood of an event. The other axis is the impact."

The object is to determine which events are most likely to happen and have the greatest consequences. Next, what must be done to mitigate risk?

Then comes a key question: Is the solution worth the costs? The most familiar historical example of poor risk management dates from the war in Vietnam: the U.S. officer who explained, "We had to destroy the village in order to save it."

Chadwick determined that the National Park Service plan could not conceivably protect Independence Hall from a car bomb.

With Chestnut closed, the hall would still be vulnerable to bombs on Fifth, Sixth, Market and Walnut Streets.

He concluded that closing Chestnut Street gave only the illusion of security. [The street was reopened in April 2003 after neighborhood protests.]

"A terrorist group that wanted to make a point could make it much more emphatically by killing 300, 400 school kids [in the Visitor Center at Sixth and Market] rather than knocking down that building," he said. "The building can be rebuilt."

Beyond that, focus on physical obstructions has diverted attention from what he thinks could be significant security upgrades: well-trained personnel and well-designed security operations supported by free-flowing intelligence and information. He notes that failures in those areas have been underscored in analyses of events leading up to the 9/11 attacks.

"We recommended in the report that they begin anew the assessment process," Chadwick said. "Start from scratch."

I understand Washington DC is getting pretty damn hideous downtown these days. But DC is an artificial city and always has been. Philly is different, it grew the way William Penn wanted it to, except when it surprised him, and it's been surprising people ever since. I hope they surprise again and show the nation that freedom deserves just as much attention as illusions of security.