Big Brother’s eyes won’t be on bookstore purchases
As a full-time newspaperman and part-time novelist, I’ve had to find the answers to some fairly esoteric questions over the last 30 years.
Among the more arcane:
+ How far will a slug from a .44-caliber Magnum revolver penetrate into the engine block of a Crown Victoria sedan?
+ What are the physical effects of nicotine poisoning? How much nicotine gum would you have to chew at a time to kill yourself? Is that even possible?
+ How do you build a pipe bomb? What kind of explosive do you use and how do you set it off?
+ How, exactly, do you hot-wire a late-model Ford van, and do car thieves still use slim-jims?
And most recently:
+ How, precisely, do you transport smaller amounts of plutonium, say, if you’d acquired some of it somewhere and wanted to contaminate a city?
As a firm believer in the get-your-basic-facts-correct school of journalism and a devotee of the form of American literary realism espoused by Mark Twain – so hilariously illustrated in his famous tome, “Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offenses” – I know professional writers have only one chance to get it right, and that’s before you go to print. Otherwise, someone will discover the error, and then you’re forced to write one of those “I regret being caught in this mistake” corrections you see in newspapers from time to time.
To avoid that embarrassing circumstance, I’ve spent a lot of time in libraries, talking to professionals via mail and telephone, and on the Internet seeking answers on Web sites and using e-mail.
And it dawned on me recently that almost any of that research could have landed me in hot water with the federal government, especially if some of it came to the attention of agents seeking to enforce the provisions of the USA Patriot Act proposed by the Bush administration. I could just imagine a couple of burly guys with crewcuts and black suits standing on my front porch some morning, asking, “You the guy wanted to know about plutonium? We think you’d better come with us to the undisclosed location.”
It wasn’t a comforting image.
In a former job, I had a granite paperweight on my desk inscribed with a newspaper-relevant quote from Benjamin Franklin, one of my favorite founding fathers. “They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty, nor safety,” Franklin wrote.
But after 9/11, it seemed like the majority of Americans were willing to give up some essential liberties to prevent atrocities like the ones at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Giving up a bit of our freedom to protect ourselves from terror seemed a small price to pay. We have plenty of freedoms to begin with.
And, at first glance, who can blame them? Should we be required to present what amounts to a national identity card before we’re allowed to board an airplane? Can we give up a portion of our freedom to travel freely and without question in our own country if it stops our planes from being hijacked? Of course we can, and we’ll do it happily.
But some of us wondered where it would all end, and what would happen if these sweeping government powers ended up in the hands of a government that really didn’t have our best interests at heart. And despite the risk of being labeled unpatriotic, some people have begun to question when, and what limits, should be placed on government’s right to snoop into our private lives.
That’s why I was encouraged last week when the U.S. House of Representatives voted to deep-six a provision of the act that makes it easier for the feds to find out – in the interest of “national security” – what you’ve been checking out at the library and buying at bookstores.
It’s the first vote representatives have taken this year on provisions in the Patriot Act, and it is gratifying to see that House members came down on the side of privacy and personal liberty.
Naturally, proponents of the provision at the Justice Department say they need this information in order to save lives and prevent the next attack. And they vow to bring the measure up again for reconsideration.
But at least, at this point, a majority of House members realize that safety, civil liberties and privacy are all important to Americans. And they have – for the time being – protected our right to research, learn and educate ourselves without Big Brother looking over our shoulders.
We have begun to set some limits on the essential freedoms we’ll abandon for a little temporary safety and that, to quote a great American, Martha Stewart, is a good thing.
Ben Franklin would be proud.
*****
And speaking of greedy politicians and government workers …
I got a kick out of reading that acting New Jersey Gov. Richard Codey last week signed an executive order compelling about 105,000 state workers, members of independent authorities and commissions, to submit to annual ethics training.
As Codey said during a news conference, “Unfortunately, people have to be reminded of the difference between right and wrong sometimes.”
You do, however, have to wonder why it is necessary to beat these folks over the head with ethics training in the first place. And you have to wonder if this will be remedial education.
It’s funny to imagine the ethics instructor on the first day of class.
“This,” the instructor says, holding up a brown paper bag, “is full of cash. If anyone tries to give you one of these for your vote on a development or for any other favor, that would be illegal. It would be both illegal and unethical for you to accept it.”
Then again, considering the plethora of indictments handed down in Monmouth and Middlesex counties in recent months accusing public employees and officials of either sticking their hands in someone else’s cookie jar or taking bribes for favors, this executive order couldn’t come at a more crucial time.
It’s just too bad that, in so many cases, it’s already too late.
Gregory Bean is executive editor
of Greater Media Newspapers.