Security theatre makes life more miserable and no safer
The accretion of metal detectors and half-arsed pat downs from security guards are making life more inconvenient for no obvious reward, says Emma Revell
The first duty of the government is to ensure the safety of its people. Unfortunately, whether measured by the security of our borders or our ability to maintain law and order on our streets, it’s hard to pretend that recent governments have been doing a good job.
In the hierarchy of needs, feeling safe sits alongside access to food, water and shelter. Without a feeling of safety, and trust that those supposed to keep you safe are able to deliver, it is hard to prioritise anything more abstract.
Catastrophic failures by the police and security services – like the abhorrent knife attacks in Southport – immediately permeate the public consciousness and it is only natural that events like this shake our sense of safety, especially with the widespread rioting that followed.
But while horrific, headline-dominating events directly shake our faith in the state’s ability to do its job, ‘minor’ infractions lead to a ramping up of security measures which seem to do little more than make life just that bit more annoying.
Enter security theatre.
We’ve all been there. The half-arsed pat down from a security guard before the turnstiles on match day, a split-second glance at an open backpack before heading into a gig, queuing to go through metal detectors on the way into an art gallery or museum.
The illusion of safety
Some are small responsibilities outsourced to bored-looking private security guards, and others are much larger, at the behest of the police or security services. But all too often they are a show, put on for the masses to give the illusion of safety while remaining almost entirely ineffectual.
In 2017, the National Gallery’s security somehow missed a man with a screwdriver in his pocket who went on to slash Gainsborough painting.
Just a few weeks ago, bag searches at Westminster Abbey failed to prevent two women defacing the grave of Charles Darwin with orange spray paint. In fact, Just Stop Oil, XR and the like have made a habit out of exposing weaknesses in these supposed security systems.
Each December, images circulate on social media of ugly concrete blocks surrounding Christmas markets in a bid to prevent lone drivers running down festive revellers, yet these failed to prevent an attack of this exact nature in Magdeburg last year.
I’ve witnessed a pat down at Wembley Stadium that somehow didn’t alert security guards to a friend of mine having half a pizza tucked in his inside coat pocket. A more light-hearted example perhaps, but still evidence that these so-called security measures are clearly not working.
I’ve witnessed a pat down at Wembley Stadium that somehow didn’t alert security guards to a friend of mine having half a pizza tucked in his inside coat pocket
These mild inconveniences have permeated our day to day lives without much fanfare. A gradual and creeping response to incidents, big and small, whereby the state has failed to keep us safe. Measures to improve security which fail the most basic cost-benefit analysis aren’t just an annoyance though, they have significant cost to venues. In the aftermath of the Manchester Arena bombing, plans were made to introduce the Terrorism (Protection of Premises) Bill, also known as Martyn’s Law. Currently at committee stage in the House of Laws, the new regulations require venues which may find themselves hosting over 200 people to put in extra precautions such as assessments and staff training to help prevent terrorist incidents.
Of course, we should seek to prevent the desecration of graves, damage to priceless works of art and terrorist atrocities. It would be absurd, given the prevalence of low-level, pensioner-powered vandalism and the rise of difficult to detect, harder to avoid lone-wolf attacks, to suggest security measures of some kind are not required.
But if we are to avoid the feeling that life is being made just that bit less convenient for no good reason, the least we can get in return is reassurance that the measures are proportionate, and actually being taken seriously.
Emma Revell is external affairs director at the Centre for Policy Studies