[Infowarrior] - TSA confiscates a geologist's rock, citing 'dual use' potential

[Richard Forno]

No Stone Unturned
October 5, 2006
http://www.courant.com/news/opinion/op_ed/hc-thorson1005.artoct05,0,777555.c
olumn?coll=hc-headlines-oped

When is a rock not a rock? When you pass through airport security. Then it
becomes a potential weapon, one capable of bringing an airplane down.

I'm mad. I can think of a better way to combat terrorism than taking mineral
specimens away from geologists traveling to their conferences. I suggest we
get U.S. forces out of Iraq, where our blundering entry and lingering
occupation are inflaming anti-American sentiment throughout the world.

There are two versions of what happened to my specimen at Bradley
International Airport, Hartford. In the first version, I was completely at
fault. Out of ignorance, I broke some unwritten rule. Then, in the name of
homeland security, the Transportation Security Administration took my rock
away.

In the second version, the federal government is at fault for not listing
mineral specimens as prohibited items and for creating a climate so fearful
of terrorism that it's compromising our economic efficiency, personal
freedom and instinct to trust one another.

I was traveling to Hood River, Ore., to attend the annual meeting of the
Stone Foundation, an international organization of architects, sculptors,
stonemasons, geologists, engravers and engineers united by their love of
stone.

To enhance my speech, I nestled one of my favorite specimens between my
underwear and shirts in a carry-on bag because I never check luggage on
business trips. My banded chunk of the Hebron Gneiss (pronounced "nice")
resembled a broken slice of layer cake composed of licorice and cream
cheese.

In retrospect, I suppose I could have put the grapefruit-sized specimen
inside my sock, swung it around my head like a mace, charged the cabin and
attempted to hijack the flight. This, of course, never occurred to me until
the zealous inspector declared my rock a "dual-use" item.

"What, pray tell, is a dual-use item?" I asked. I'm afraid I chucked just a
little, causing her to glare, withhold a satisfactory answer and call her
supervisor. He hefted my rock, scrutinized it for a moment, and agreed that
my specimen was indeed a dual-use item, meaning a potential low-tech weapon.
During those uneasy moments when I thought I would be detained, I wondered
if a doctor's stethoscope would also be declared a dual-use item, since it
could be used to strangle a pilot.

The inspectors did give me the option of returning to the ticket counter to
check my specimen as baggage. However, having waited more than half an hour
for my security clearance, I decided that I didn't have enough time. "Can I
claim the rock when I return?" I asked. Their answer, a resounding "no,"
forced me to choose between possibly missing my flight, and abandoning my
rock forever.

I capitulated, surrendering it to that great unmarked graveyard where
confiscated items will spend eternity. If rocks had feelings, my beautiful
specimen would have been crying as it was hauled away.

My gneiss was not without sentimental value. It has been my traveling
companion for three years, and a touchstone for thousands of people who have
attended my talks. And though my rock is gone for good, what worries me is
that some analyst - perplexed by the usual nature of my dual-use object -
will write a report to be sent up the bureaucratic food chain.

Who knows? Perhaps your tax dollars will be used by an internal think tank
of agency hire-ups to ponder why on earth a geologist would travel with a
rock. Who knows? Perhaps the government will wiretap my phone or check my
library records to see whether I have checked out a Koran or a book about
stone-age warfare.

I'm a middle-aged, balding, blond and blue-eyed Scandinavian-American. If
the gauntlet of untrusting looks at airport security intimidates me, then
how much worse would it be for an Arab American? Would the threshold weight
for rock confiscation be lower?

After my conference, I brought back a specimen of rhyolitic ignimbrite
(welded volcanic ash) to mitigate the loss of my nice gneiss. This time, I
took no chances. I put it in my carry-on bag and checked it as luggage to
ensure that my new rock would make it home, which it did.

What's next for airport screening? My dual-use laptop?

Robert M. Thorson is a professor of geology at the University of Connecticut
and a member of The Courant's Place Board of Contributors. His column
appears every Thursday. He can be reached at profthorson at hotmail.com.