In Profile

Recently, profiling has been on the mind of John McGuinness over at Man Bites Blog, and he's written about it in a couple of recent posts. In one, he makes a very good point:

Obviously, simplistic racial profiling, in so far as it reduces people to their race or origin, is an affront to personal dignity.

But, perhaps, it misses part of the point in the broader argument against racial profiling, especially of the simplistic sort.

In the end, there are really three reasons to profile:

1. Savings in labor - you don't have to interact with every single person.
2. Lower miss rate than a purely random sample - given the fact that you're not interacting with each and every possible perpetrator (i.e., the entire population), you want to have the greatest chance possible of catching the actual perpetrators (i.e., the actual people who are up to no good).
3. Lower false positive rate - every moment spent working over a non-perpetrator is, basically, wasted time. The fewer false positives the system generates, the better.

If your profiling regime doesn't make some progress towards achieving goals 2 and 3, you're not really doing anything at all helpful. Profiling has acquired a bad name here in the United States, because basically, it was popular for an off-label use - deliberate harassment of an unpopular out-group. Stopping, say, young Latinos in nice cars on the highway and searching them for drugs might have saved a state trooper the time and trouble of stopping everyone who might drive by. But it gives a pass to any non-Latino who may be a drug courier, and it results in stopping a large number of Latinos who aren't drug couriers.

It's safe to say, given the tenor of some public comments, that deliberate harassment of an unpopular out-group is part of what's driving some popular support for profiling, vis-a-vis terrorism. Coupled with an increased illusion of safety is the fact that the people who are going to have to put up with the problems and indignities brought on by false positives are unsympathetic, out-group members. But simplistic racial profiling, while it may slake a fearful public's need to feel that someone is applying the boot to their tormentors, isn't likely to substantially bring down the rate of false positives, or push the terrorist catch rate to anything near the 100% that we're commonly told is the only acceptable outcome.

Red, Red, Whine

A co-worker showed me an e-mail he'd received from an acquaintance. The general jist of it is as follows - Talib terrorists capture three television network anchors, and an American soldier. Each is asked for their final request. The network anchors ask for some pretty banal stuff, although one of them has the presence of mind to ask to record the event. The soldier asks for a kick in the rear. After one of the Talib kicks him, the soldier gets his Rambo on, and kills every terrorist present, in rather graphic detail. The news anchors ask him why he wanted to be kicked in the rear, and are told that it was because when they reported the story, they wouldn't be able to portray the soldier as the aggressor.

While I understand the point that the author of the piece was attempting to make, the overall deliver struck me as simply being bitter, angry and (most disappointingly) whiny. And this seems indicative of the rhetoric that the Right has started adopting over the past few years. Whereas, once upon a time, Conservatism's motto seemed to be "No Whining," now it's apparently become fashionable to call attention to their alleged victimhood at every opportunity. I was in a bookstore the other day, and came across an audiobook by a Conservative personality which promised an accounting of how the "Mainstream Media" ignored the sexual indiscretions of Democrats while shouting those of Republicans from the rafters, along with other nefarious misdeeds perpetrated upon innocent Conservatives. Now, before you remind me that the Left does just as much whining as the Right, if not more, let me assure you, I know. The last time I went to a meeting of Democrats, I lamented not having brought bread and cheese. Perhaps it was the overall success of the tactic that has lead Republican boosters to abandon their former disdain for the practice, in favor of a remarkably wholehearted embrace.

But very few people ever get anywhere by constantly reminding others about what great victims they are. For my own part, while there are labels and distinctions that I will fight for, "greatest victim" is certainly not one of them. And I must admit to a level of disappointment that the Right has joined the race to the bottom in that regard.

Safety

Lost in the hysteria around this latest bombing attempt is this, I think: We tend to treat “safety” (as in freedom from risk of negative outcomes for which one is not directly responsible) as a both unalloyed and infinitely valuable Good. If a given level of safety X, is a good thing, then X+1 must be even better, and worth paying for – even before we know the actual cost.

This, I think, is part of what drives a notion of security that is best described as chasing loopholes – since we a questing, in effect, for perfect security, anything that keeps us from that goal must be done away with a quickly as possible. But this stops us from ever questioning whether or not the measures that we already have in place are good enough.

Someone will always make the argument that being alive and inconvenienced is immeasurably better than being dead. And from this grows the argument that my inconvenience is small price to pay not only for my own life, but also for someone else’s life. But here's the rub - this is not an absolute argument. After all, it’s also true that I would feel a lot safer if I didn’t have to drive to get back and forth to work. But no-one considers this an iron-clad rationale for an entitlement to work from the safety of my library. And this is the problem at the end of the day - my definition of Safety above is quite incorrect. We actually tend to treat safety as a freedom from fear - we feel safe when we're unafraid. Thus, perhaps the problem is that we're not chasing safety - we're chasing a feeling of well-being. And how does one put a price on feelings?

Resolution

Quickly now, when I say the name "Cameron Todd Willingham" what comes to mind?

Hopefully, you said: "A possible wrongful execution." But I wouldn't be surprised if you said: "Who?" And I think that bothers me. When we last saw this case in the headlines, Texas Governor Rick Perry had effectively spiked the investigation into whether or not the science that had been used to convict Willingham was junk. While a number of people wondered what Governor Perry had to hide, it's a safe bet that this just a simple case of a question that goes unanswered doesn't make anyone look bad - or expose anyone to legal liability. And while the case might be making the grade for Top 10 News Stories of 2009 across Texas, it's not being talked about much anywhere else. Which presumably, is exactly what Governor Perry was betting on.

To a point, Cameron's guilt or innocence is beside the point. Partly because Cameron was executed in 2004, and partly because we shouldn't have the expectation that verdicts in criminal trials are ever going to be 100% accurate. So that leaves as the real issue the credibility of the legal system, especially when capital punishment is involved. Governor Perry is concerned with his own credibility. It's a valid concern, but it's likely to bite him in the buttocks once he leaves office, unless his successor is just as concerned with it. Especially given the fact that the Governor seems to have decided that ad hominem attacks on critics are a valid defense.

But how concerned are we with the credibility of the system? Very little, I think. From my vantage point, it smacks of "First they came for the communists, ..." Most of us aren't the least bit concerned with the credibility of the legal system - mainly because we have no concern of ever being the person who might be sent to prison, if not their demise, based on an incorrect conviction. But the apathy that "First they came..." evokes goes deeper than simply a faith that our own innocence will keep us safe. Governor Perry isn't the only person who is convinced that Cameron was guilty. Part of it is based on the fact that whether or not he was an arsonist, Cameron wasn't an angel - the arson trial wasn't his first run-in with the law. It's easy to be outraged (or at least say we are) when there's a sympathetic defendant with no prior criminal history. But whether we realize it our not, we have imbued our legal system with a vast amount of credibility - nearly to the point that the simple act of being arrested is tantamount to a conviction. That level of faith is a difficult thing to let go of - not only because of the void that it would leave, but because of the admission of error that it may entail.

There are a lot of injustices in the world. And there are more every day. Real ones, where there is no question of the evidence, no chance that we've gotten worked up over a guilty person with good public relations. So I'm not going to ask anyone to remember this one. That will be my job. (Let's see if I discharge it properly.) But I think that we should all pick a possible injustice to keep our eye on. Something that lies outside of the things that we passionate about. And be willing, every so often and in small ways, to make a little ruckus about it.

Fade Away

And the sun sets on another year, the last of a decade. Of course, over the course of the years, the Sun has shone its last on a lot of things. It's a safe bet that we didn't realize what we were seeing at the time. Humanity (or at least Americans - that sliver of humanity with which I have the most experience) often seems blind to events until they are safely (or regretably) past.

One wonders, now that we're at the dawn of a new year, if we'll gather the proper lessons from the one just past. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I think I know what the proper lessons are - but is there really anyone who ever thought differently?