Sardines bomber at large

Is it just me, or is the decision by some supermarkets to search customers' bags a step too far? One may be tempted to laugh it off as a PR disaster and shop elsewhere, but I think we should not take the idea so lightly.

It constitutes a serious and unacceptable breach of people's privacy, and lends itself to 'slippery slope' arguments about preserving that privacy.

Before I go on to explain, I should add I'm not referring to any particular establishment here. After all, if it works in one place, you can be sure it will catch on.

There are four arguments we need to make here. First, some may argue that the item being searched is 'just' a bag, not a body. Surely there is no harm in that? Wrong. Though a bag search is not quite as violating as a body search, its intrusiveness should not be underestimated. Bags can be rather private things, for two reasons.

First, what we carry around in them says a lot about who we are. Rummaging through one's bags is tantamount to asking them a heap of probing questions about themselves.

Second, the contents of bags - especially women's handbags - can be fairly intimate, in that they are often extensions of the body, so to speak.

In any case, certainly not things one would want to have strangers (especially the type of strangers usually employed as 'security') messing around with. Certainly not if their reason for doing so is the can of sardines that went missing, presumed kidnapped, from the supermarket shelf. There is a big difference between states and shopping establishments.

In the case of the former, one might argue that intrusion is permissible because it benefits the security of the public at large - the 'common good argument', that is.

There are in fact two reasons why we are so docile in the face of such violence and irritation at airports, for example. The first is that they're imposed. Arguing with airport security officers will get one nowhere except the missed flight counter, at best. Every time my newly-bought bottle of shampoo is binned ('liquids over 100ml' - L'Oreal's answer to Oppenheimer it seems), I swear never to fly again.

Which is a silly thing to promise oneself, especially if the shampoo is confiscated at the departures lounge in Malta. The final analysis is that the system is imposed by forces far stronger than oneself, and it's a case of obey it or stay at home grooming one's beard.

The second reason why we tolerate such draconian measures as strangers ordering us to stand legs apart, is that we believe they're for our own good. A lost bottle of shampoo may be un-nice, but it's certainly better than falling out of the sky because a fellow passenger with a dislike for 'the West' decides that TNT is good for their hair.

Neither of the two reasons apply in the case of supermarkets. Since they are not states, they cannot impose anything other than customers paying for what they take. To this end, they have to find systems that are efficient and non-intrusive - things like electronic tagging and such.

Nor does the 'common good' argument work. Their only interest is to prevent loss of revenue, which is justifiable but not at the cost of customers' welfare.

Third, there is another very nasty thing about the idea of searching people's bags at shop checkouts. It lends itself to forms of discrimination based on visual typologies. That is, individuals who 'look dodgy' - maybe because of piercings, tattoos, dress taste, or simply skin colour - are more likely to be targeted.

The same applies for those who are thought to be vulnerable or 'weak', which in Malta (unfortunately and wrongly) usually includes women.

Incidentally, on the 'frailty' of women, I've seen a couple of online comments by men vowing to 'protect' their damsels from humiliation by supermarket staff. Frankly, the less venues we create for archaic posturing of this sort, the better.

Smartly-dressed and/or assertive people, on the other hand, are likely to be passed over. Not least since they tend to know their rights and to articulate them in ways which cause embarrassment to the security people. They might harm the shop's image by writing letters to editors, for example, or sue management for psychological distress.

The fourth argument is more complicated, and probably merits a separate piece. In a nutshell, however, we may be witnessing a shift towards a security surcharge. Mike Aaltola has written some interesting stuff on how, especially post-9/11, airport security for example has become a symbol of a 'hierarchical world order' (in brief, one in which the US and its allies are the key players).

He suggests there is a link between airports and a globalised world. In his words, airport security implications are heightened because they provide access routes to the centres of political power. Because of this, it is not surprising that substantial security experiences take place on the routes to centres of power as the security stakes get higher.

Without going into details, the point is that there is a relation between the dynamics of security and the structures of power sustaining them. Worldwide, we are witnessing a proliferation of private security options that co-exist with those of states (police forces and such). Ten years ago in Malta, for example, a security person in uniform was likely to be a member of the police. We really cannot say that nowadays.

Is this a 'good' or a 'bad' thing? Opinions differ, but I know where I stand. If anyone asks to search my bags, they'd better represent a state I subscribe to through my votes and taxes. They should also have a reason which goes well beyond pilfered sardines.

mafalzon@hotmail.com