First, the "shoe bomber." And we all obediently removed our shoes as we traveled through airport security.
Then, the "water bottle whatever-it-was" incident. And we all obediently surrendered our lattes and water before going through security.
Most recently, the "underwear bomber." And, as in the past, we will all obediently, no, not take off our underwear, but undergo more scrutiny as airports install additional machines that will better scan, sniff, inspect, detect and reject foreign and dangerous objects from luggage and person.
After each planned (and failed) attack on airlines, airline security gets tougher on travelers. Unfortunately, the reactive solution to the threat du jour, which has been characterized from patriotic to idiotic, is to get bigger and better machines. This is not an unusual reaction, by the way, by almost any organization under pressure, public or private. The decision favoring bigger and better technology is a traditional and was accepted as a proven solution in past experiences. Short of forming an Olympic Conclusion Jumping Team, the decision misses the point and the problem.
The weak point in our national, state, local security is not the machines or the people themselves, but our reliance on the machines more than on the people. Intelligence is a human attribute and our use of intelligence is what separates us from, say, our laptop computers. Our computers have data. But only we, as humans, can interpret the data into knowledge. From knowledge (and experience), we develop wisdom.
A GIS is a valuable tool in tracking incidents and threats, as well as in planning intricate responses with valuable resources to meet the risks and hazards of the 21st century, but it is a manifestation of data, lots of data, some seemingly unrelated until viewed in relation to other data and information. From detailed maps, supported by the right data ("right" meaning relevant, accurate, and precise) only humans can analyze and recognize patterns, examine relational overlays of data points on a piece of paper or computer screen, and infer and assign a meaning to it all. And then take the appropriate action. As I have heard - It's often not what we don't know that's dangerous. It's what we know that we're sure we know.
A GIS is not a single map (ask any GIS geek, you can't draw just one map) and the system cannot run itself once established. A fully functioning GIS takes intelligent people to acquire and manage the data, to analyze the relationship among the data, and not just answer questions like 'how many miles to here?' or 'how many commercial properties are within a certain distance of the highway?' The real value of GIS is our use of the maps beyond the piece of paper, our ability to take to data and become wiser about the choices we make in public safety and creating the truly resilient community.
Well, it's just about time for my flight now, and I've got to finish my coffee, put my cell phone in my briefcase, take my computer out of my briefcase, empty my water bottle, untie my shoes. . . .
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Then, the "water bottle whatever-it-was" incident. And we all obediently surrendered our lattes and water before going through security.
Most recently, the "underwear bomber." And, as in the past, we will all obediently, no, not take off our underwear, but undergo more scrutiny as airports install additional machines that will better scan, sniff, inspect, detect and reject foreign and dangerous objects from luggage and person.
After each planned (and failed) attack on airlines, airline security gets tougher on travelers. Unfortunately, the reactive solution to the threat du jour, which has been characterized from patriotic to idiotic, is to get bigger and better machines. This is not an unusual reaction, by the way, by almost any organization under pressure, public or private. The decision favoring bigger and better technology is a traditional and was accepted as a proven solution in past experiences. Short of forming an Olympic Conclusion Jumping Team, the decision misses the point and the problem.
The weak point in our national, state, local security is not the machines or the people themselves, but our reliance on the machines more than on the people. Intelligence is a human attribute and our use of intelligence is what separates us from, say, our laptop computers. Our computers have data. But only we, as humans, can interpret the data into knowledge. From knowledge (and experience), we develop wisdom.
A GIS is a valuable tool in tracking incidents and threats, as well as in planning intricate responses with valuable resources to meet the risks and hazards of the 21st century, but it is a manifestation of data, lots of data, some seemingly unrelated until viewed in relation to other data and information. From detailed maps, supported by the right data ("right" meaning relevant, accurate, and precise) only humans can analyze and recognize patterns, examine relational overlays of data points on a piece of paper or computer screen, and infer and assign a meaning to it all. And then take the appropriate action. As I have heard - It's often not what we don't know that's dangerous. It's what we know that we're sure we know.
A GIS is not a single map (ask any GIS geek, you can't draw just one map) and the system cannot run itself once established. A fully functioning GIS takes intelligent people to acquire and manage the data, to analyze the relationship among the data, and not just answer questions like 'how many miles to here?' or 'how many commercial properties are within a certain distance of the highway?' The real value of GIS is our use of the maps beyond the piece of paper, our ability to take to data and become wiser about the choices we make in public safety and creating the truly resilient community.
Well, it's just about time for my flight now, and I've got to finish my coffee, put my cell phone in my briefcase, take my computer out of my briefcase, empty my water bottle, untie my shoes. . . .
