Thursday, September 25, 2014

Fear Swings Both Ways



Fear is visceral. 

We respond to fear. We have to. It may be freezing in place, or fleeing without thought, or fighting for what we hold dear. 

Fear doesn’t promote clear rational thinking. The part of the brain activated when we are face-deep in fear is the primal part of who we are, the part that dates back to living in caves and fighting off wild animals. Us before fire. 

Fear has led us to arming ourselves with ever more lethal weapons…mace, knives, and guns. Fear inspired us to teach our children about “stranger danger” (despite the reality that most children are abducted by people they know). And Homeland Security was built on fear. 

Post 911, the vision of smoke and falling buildings still fresh in the collective American mind, and our government told us that we needed to be protected. Danger wasn't past tense it was ever present. And so we lamented  our withering freedoms but took solace in the safety that its withering would provide. This isn't new; this reality has had many a birthday. But it is relevant now as the FBIis denouncing the new encryption capabilities that both Google and Apple have placed on their phones. The changes they have made make it difficult for law enforcement to gain access to materials even if they have a valid warrant. 

When I read about this, the phrase, “even if they have a valid warrant” stood out to me. Screamed at me. Blinked in neon colors. It is that line that clarifies everything. That line explains how acutely we respond to fear.  That line reveals the expectation that law enforcement might be accessing our information without a valid warrant. The subtle implication nestled in the FBI’s whine is essentially, “even if we follow the rules we still might not get to play.” And for the moment the response is, “no, you cannot play.”

To me, the most obvious reason that Google and Apple have scrambled to get encryption in the first place is the recent bullying from NSA and the like.* Forced to offer up client information even after fighting the demand in court; outrage followed when we, the public, found out how much of our information was being demanded.

And so we fell down a hole our own fear made. And this encrypted reaction is the ladder we’re making to escape. A ladder of fear – only this time a different kind.

Unchecked power is a frightening and insatiable beast.  Feed it a few rights, access to some things, and soon it will devour everything – offered or not. And so more than a decade after 911…post NSA snooping phone calls…post skimming our emails for whatever phrase proves our guilt...we see a backlash. Emails sealed, phones held tight, secrets locked away.

I delight in this fear. Delight in the audacity of the FBI to be indignant about their own cavalier behavior towards rules and limitations, even when it is those very things that have brought us here.

And here is not the best place. 

Here is where child pornographers might be able to breathe a little easier because their emails are a little more secure. Here is where actual terrorists may have an extra moment, drug dealers may have hiding places that remain hidden. 

But here is where fear put us. First the fear of everything without. Fear of all the things that go bang in the daylight and leave us bewildered at the destruction. And now fear of the people that swore to protect us and abused that trust, relished in our fear that gave them latitude to ignore rules that were created to keep us all safe to begin with.

Fear is visceral. Fear spreads. We respond to fear, just not always in predictable ways.  

*I’m sure there are other reasons that have nothing to do with this but the rush…the rush I maintain is linked at least in part to law enforcement’s intrusion.

Monday, September 22, 2014

White Threads



This morning I managed to roll myself out of bed too late to meet my friend at the YMCA but just in time to actually join it. The Mayor of the Y (as I dubbed him), a loquacious older man who graciously allowed me to sit with him as I filled out my paperwork, began to pepper me with questions.

“Where are you from?”
“Do you have a husband and kids?”
“Where’d you go to school in Louisiana?”

A friendly guy, older than my dad, or not preserved quite as well, I enjoyed the banter well enough. The community atmosphere of the Y is part of the reason I joined. I like that people speak to each other. I like that there are tables at the front that serve as a designated social spot. 

Finished with my application I looked up at the Mayor and smiled. He leaned in just a little and said, “I love those decorative white threads in your hair.” His hand almost grazed my forehead as he reached to touch the “threads” and I leaned back to avoid the grazing. “I smiled and responded, “Those are gray hairs, just like yours.” With that I shuffled my papers and waved to him as I presented myself at front desk for the remainder of my intake process. 

Motivation dresses itself up in interesting costumes. Gorging myself in Peru on alpaca, quinoa soup, and what I presumed to be frozen vegetables; I came home craving vegetables. Not just craving vegetables, I came home forsaking meat and dairy…for a week. Then I signed up for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) with plans to continue a veggie heavy, from-scratch cooking reality. 

Imagine my wonder when it was cheese and butter that I missed more than bacon. 

Food wasn’t the only thing Peru left me craving. Craving is the wrong word; I crave long days in a comfortable bed. Peru bluntly reminded me that I need to move more. Hence, the Y. Walking around at 3,300 meters (more than 10,000 feet) in Cusco, and then climbing mountains at almost 8,000 feet at Machu Picchu, and I was reminded just how out of shape I am (actually, my 67-year-old father perched on a rock waiting patiently on his favorite youngest daughter to catch up, reminded me how out of shape I am).

And so here I am, returned from vacation with my sights set on a healthier day to day. My first CSA box arrives October 1 – we’ll see what all this looks like by then.