Tell Me a Lie
Alerts and the right to “know.”

By Tom Nichols, professor of strategy, Naval War College & author of The Russian Presidency.
November 7, 2001 8:55 a.m.

Editor's note: The opinions are those of the author and not of any agency of the U.S. government.

e don't need to know.

When it comes to informing ordinary Americans about terrorist alerts, it's that simple: We don't need to know. This, of course, goes against the grain of a public faith in the United States that the government has a positive obligation to tell us just about everything, a belief that arose from undeniable abuses of trust in the White House and within the intelligence community in the 1970s. It is, however, utterly detached from common sense, especially during wartime.

In any case, these iterated "alerts" are part of the problem instead of the solution. President Bush has said that we need to get on with our lives, and he's right. We need to go about getting on airplanes, shopping at the mall, attending sports events, and all the million little things that people in an advanced civilization do, and that retrograde barbarians like Osama bin Laden detest. But more to the point, there's nothing we can do in the face of a terrorist "alert," short of…well, staying off airplanes, avoiding the mall, and giving our football tickets to braver souls. And that's just what the terrorists want.

The news yesterday that last week's warning from California Governor Gray Davis that his state's bridges were targets was not credible, after all, only adds to the case for not being told.

Lost in all the recrimination about how the administration is needlessly worrying the public (or alternately, amid the usual howls about "the public's right to know") is the undeniable fact that short of hiding in the basement, there isn't anything the average citizen can do to thwart a terrorist attack beyond the kinds of things we're already doing, such as being more vigilant about our mail, more willing to report mysterious abandoned packages at airports or other public places, or even — as Peggy Noonan frighteningly recalled recently — to be outright confrontational when young men of Middle Eastern appearance are suspiciously videotaping national landmarks in the dark. But beyond that, all we are left with is to give in to our fears, something that too many of us seem eager to do.

Consider a small example. I live in a small town in Rhode Island, where we recently had a flap at the local supermarket. Someone reported a "white powder" in the aisles, and in due course the men in biohazard suits were on the scene. Heaven knows that white powders are an unusual sight in grocery stores — unless you count all the flour, sugar, and detergents, of course — but more to the point is the combined level of narcissism and paranoia that led to the closing of a supermarket in a small town for two days. It makes perfect sense, of course: The terrorists have hit the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and sent anthrax to the U.S. Senate and the major networks. Logically, their next step would be the symbolic and irresistible target of a supermarket in a little town in New England.

It's plainly silly to see terrorist bogeymen lurking behind the frozen foods, but as long as there are more of these amorphous "alerts," there will be more of this kind of excessive jumpiness. With that said, no one would deny that credible concerns should be passed on to local political and law enforcement authorities. If there's evidence of a specific threat to, say, the Golden Gate bridge, especially to the point where public safety demands its evacuation, then federal, state, and local officials should get it done as quickly and with as little panic as possible, and without making people 3,000 miles away afraid to go to buy a quart of milk.

This kind of very specific alert is quite a different matter than telling the entire American nation that in the next few weeks, something bad might happen somewhere. Let's be honest: We knew that already, and it's not just limited to the next few days, weeks, or months.

There is one good reason to publicize alerts, however, and that is as part of a strategy to deter, or even smoke out, terrorists. Letting the enemy know that you have anticipated his plans might indeed avert an attack, and even spook the would-be attackers into running for, and revealing, their escape routes and other aspects of their network.

If that is the object, by all means, alerts should be used even if they scare the daylights out of the shoppers eyeing the leaky box of pancake mix in Aisle Five. But if the point is the public's "right to know" — or a fear that there will a public backlash if something happens in the absence of a declared alert — then inducing panic is worse than useless.

The president and his national security must make plain that the possibility of a terrorist incident is part of life in the United States (and Europe) for the foreseeable future, and that the government may not be able to anticipate them all. It is a realization we will have to bear with a certain amount of stoicism, and that means flying, shopping, traveling, and doing all the other things terrorists would rather we not do. And it means, as well, a mature faith that those of our fellow citizens who are entrusted with our security are doing the best that they can, and in the meantime, we simply do not need to know.