Security Paranoia

It’s no exaggeration to say that we are terrorizing ourselves to death. This feeling of insecurity has pervaded every possible life stream and has permeated the very depths of life’s core values. All in the name of security.

It hampers life. Life which was so easy before is now becoming increasingly difficult. From big things in life to small. Either people are willing to pay the price for establishing and maintaining a sense of security or they are mute witnesses to the apathetic display of mundane security procedures. It gets really silly sometimes.

Just a few years ago, resetting my password was a breeze. I used to send a mail to a nice woman wishing her a good morning with a request to change the password if she wouldn’t mind. I get a reply within ten minutes with the reset password and also letting me know about the weather there. The new password would be humorous and once I enter the application I can resume work by changing the password of my choice. I would sometimes call her to thank or she would call just to ensure that my work is not held up. That way she showed she cared and simultaneously ensured I was the right person.

Now it’s different. I need to raise a request over an intrepidly named application which keeps track of how many times I reset my password. There are multiple pages of rows and columns and they are so cumbersome it wouldn’t allow me to proceed until I exactly filled what it asked for – every time. Then I get a reply not in 10 minutes but almost instantly – auto reply. It thanks me for sending a request and says that I can expect a response within two working days – I can twiddle my thumbs in the office until then. After two days I get the password over two emails encrypted and asking me to fill up strangely shaped characters. And if I do not change the password within a stipulated time the password would commit hara-kiri. If people can blow themselves up so can passwords. It’s so complex, I cannot remember it and even if I could, the passwords are expected to live for 15 days and they would blow themselves up then, if not on day 1. So, I write my password down very dutifully which defeats the very purpose of security! No one can expect me to remember an eight digit password with no letter of the alphabet repeating, with at least one numeric and one non alpha-numeric character (these are the strange characters you find on top of the numbers keys in your key board). I have a strange rule to change the password every fifteen days – over a time I discovered – everyone has the same rule – so much for password security.

This one takes the cake. Yesterday, I took an exam. As I was sitting nervously in the lounge after filling up the security register at the lobby, the security guy passes me by and then back again and while doing so he says, jackets aren’t allowed inside and it has to be kept out. I pack it away and return to my lounge seat. A couple of minutes later, the same security guy passes me by and while returning says watches aren’t allowed inside and I repeat the process. The third time he passes me by, he says pens aren’t allowed inside and off it goes. Now I am exasperated – and sure enough he passes me by the fourth time, I take my fingers to the buttoned shirt and I unilaterally offer to take it off. He said with a stern face that I can take the exam with the shirt on.

And to think that this was just the precursor. This guy who is supposed to check your id looks like a judge who has just passed the death sentence. The admit letter says I need to carry two identity proofs and employer id is not considered as an id proof. Perhaps, I should have carried my death sentence pronouncement with my photograph and signature.

First I submit my eligibility letter and then my primary id – my passport and then my secondary identification with a five year old photograph. He writes down the id numbers and allows me to take the exam.

The sad part is – the names in the eligibility letter, the primary identity and the secondary identity were not identical though they all were mine and genuine and I was the right person. (I would count the spaces in between names as differences). I would have expected him to ask for a clarification but then I cannot give a clarification once the death sentence is passed – can I. I counted myself lucky.

They had processes, they had protocols, and they had checklists. What they did not have was to do the right thing the right way at the right time. That needs common sense.

Common sense could have prevented the person from entering the country who was refused a visa earlier – he couldn’t have piloted the plane into the building. Common sense would have prevented seven bullets entering the head of an innocent man.

That’s the price we need to pay for our own sense of security.