I was walking into court the other day via the big front door. For those of you who haven't been there in a while, security has been stepped up somewhat. Your belongings are now X-rayed and you are lightly frisked. Until a few years ago, the big wooden doors were open to all and sundry and everyone was free to come and go as they pleased with no security to speak of.

Today, in addition to the security checks, access has been restricted by a big glass door which has added to the human traffic and basically means that, now, there are always masses of people outside the building between 9 and 9.30 a.m.

It's not Heathrow, but it's something. I was stopped and asked if I was carrying perfume in my handbag, which I was. The perfume was so small it was practically sample size, and I pointed this out to the duty security officer, insisting that I was within the remit of my rights, even by Heathrow standards. He wasn't having any of it and I was asked to leave my (discontinued) perfume behind, which I was told I could pick up on leaving.

As I eyed the other confiscated loot, I muttered a few profanities inwardly, convinced that on the way out, I'd wind up with someone else's perfume I definitely wouldn't want. I wondered what sort of mischief they thought I might cook up with about seven leftover squirts of perfume. And then I thought about the crazy world we live in and how one day soon, some nut job will manage to sneak past security with a knife in his shoes and in a few months' time we'll all be taking off our shoes, walking around court in our stockings, rushing into our court cases carrying our boots and belts in our hands.

Because the fact of the matter is that the person who wants to beat and cheat the system always will - if you want to get past the door with a gun or other explosive device, you'll find a way around it. And if you're really serious about creating havoc, you don't even need to get past the door and into the building. You'll find a way to do so from the outside.

We're fiddled, strip-searched, poked, and have to suffer men and women pawing us, but then if we want to throw a birthday party for our 10-year-old, we can no longer ask class teachers to send home the class list. Because that sort of information ladies and gentleman is protected by data protection laws. But if the establishment feels like banning people from wearing burkas and veils, or removing crucifixes from our lives, it can and will.

And if the government decides that it wants to see through your clothes with its own weapons of potential mass destruction and irradiate you on the off chance that you happen to be wearing explosive underpants, are carrying a gun or have ingested illegal narcotics, then it can order you to undergo an intrusive X-ray search - and there's precious little you can do about it.

It's called the Rapiscan Secure 1000 and it originally made its debut at Heathrow in 2004, although back then, apparently, passengers who were randomly selected to undergo the X-ray could refuse and opt for the traditional pat down search instead. Today if you refuse you basically don't fly.

Now I don't know how you feel, but a device which penetrates the skin, is able to strip you virtually, reveals clear images of your genitalia, and moreover exposes you to unnecessary radiation without medical justification, doesn't sit well with me at all.

We have spent the past 20 years re-adjusting our habits, reviewing and reconsidering our beliefs on everything from inoculations to fats. We've made the switch from anti-perspirant sprays to roll ons, we avoid microwaves, steer clear of diet drinks and avoid sleeping with our mobile phones next to our beds. We've learned to live without butter because we were told that margarine was the healthier alternative. Until we were told that margarine was potentially more hazardous and cancerous and the goalposts shifted once more.

And who's to say what perils the Rapiscan Backscatter has in store for us? On a recent trip to London, a family member was the unfortunate recipient of this scan. He was randomly selected to undergo the radiation dose, after which, he experienced dizziness and a feeling of nausea. When he pointed this out to the woman in charge (literally charging him with the dose), she passed a snide remark, which was completely uncalled for.

When your life is in the hands of someone who finds nothing untoward about passing a callous remark just because you have told her you are feeling heady, the trust element disappears completely. If someone is capable of that level of boorishness, you immediately wonder whether she has charged you with more dosage than is actually safe.

All sorts of fears spring to mind - harm to foetuses, fertility issues, cancer. It's the cumulative effect it could potentially have years from now, it's the fact that you are not given any literature or information although it is a quasi rape of your person. You see, when it comes to inanimate objects, the harm element is absent. Moreover, everyone's belongings are X-rayed. It's not just my baby oil and nail file which are confiscated. If the man in the luminous jacket feels safer taking my mascara away, at least I know he's taking yours away too.

But there's no guarantee that the random people search will single out the one man with his master plan so while you are being walked to the Heathrow radiation chamber, the guy behind you who might be wearing the explosive pants has just sailed past and is at large. In a world of uncertainty, what is certain is that you can't hope to tighten all the screws.

You can't legislate effectively when you are targeting that loose screw, that one-off disaster. There is always going to be a chink in the armour. Which is why one man's skewed behaviour should not set the pace for the rest of us.

michelaspiteri@gmail.com