The world is a dangerous place, and most people who have accumulated wealth or other assets in uncertain or risky environments have one thing in common: defending them. This is why the equivalent of city hall in Shanghai looks like a veritable fortress, why the well-to-do in nations from the poorest to the most wealthy, from Seoul to London, Rio to Tokyo, are unabashed to erect high walls, strong gates, and the kind of electronic and physical barriers intended not just to thwart the paparazzi. They are also intended to stop acquisitive and destructive aggressors from attacking, inflicting harm, or otherwise causing damage or mayhem. Everywhere, that is, except in the United States.
Instead, we find such defenses unseemly. They strike us as aesthetically unsavory, as, well, overbearing and contrary to the American tradition of openness and accessibility to the everyday fellow human. Look no further than a book written by a relatively modern historian, The Architecture of Diplomacy, and you will see the same philosophy applied to the design of American embassies at the height of the Cold War. At the time, it was always the Communist and other totalitarian regimes, particularly the Soviet Union, that seemed bent on erecting the most forbidding and dungeon-like structures as ambassadorial representations of might and invincibility. So, in the best contrarian American tradition, what did we do? The opposite. Thus our embassies came to be emblematic of our society: open, friendly, transparent. In order for this to happen, all but the structurally indispensable walls gave way to glass, opening the embassies up to light and airiness. At the time, this seemed desirable. Events like the Oklahoma City Bombing and other attacks showed us a new reality: how easily standard glazing and unhardened buildings fall victim to progressive collapse.
So the century turns and the world changes. Today, we see that openness as a strategy is no more supportable than leaving one’s front door wide open at home. The rest of the world understands the need to fortify. But it seems that only in the West, and in America in particular, do we agonize over the obvious. “What might it say about our manifest distrust of our neighbors if we lock our doors too securely?” we seem to wonder. It’s not that we cannot learn the lessons of self-protection. We just tend to forget them sooner and act on them later than others. We have had embassies in Syria, Iran, Tanzania, and Kenya attacked. There will be others. But if we wait for the attack before we fortify, it is like getting a good deadbolt and reinforced door frame for the front door only after the burglary or home invasion. Some lessons are not nearly so valuable when absorbed only after the loss has occurred. So, maybe it is time to get smarter.
Good security must be a habit in order to deliver value. This means locking all your doors and using all the protective measures at hand before the loss occurs, not after. Doing this not only strengthens defenses and contributes to peace of mind. It also provides a visible and meaningful deterrent. After all, life’s worst adversaries tend to be focused and businesslike. They base their decision to attack or pass us by depending on how soft or hard a target we are or appear to be. Is there really any reason to call on aesthetic or emotional arguments to institutionalize weakness and design vulnerabilities into security posture in the post-9/11 world? Not if you value your assets.
– Nick Catrantzos