JFK: The line for passenger screening snaked between posts connected with canvas strips. At the front of the line, TSA agents waved forward the individuals (or families) one at a time. Whereas the terminal was otherwise crowded, the screening area was not. Leaving the line, I first encountered two TSA agents, one standing, the other seated behind a podium. The standing officer took my passport and boarding pass, and without opening the documents, he looked me in the eye and said, “Please state your full name.” He watched me while I spoke and then he opened my passport. This seemed curious at first – to ask my name before reading my passport – but I realized he was looking for facial expressions or body language revealing a deceitful response. He compared my passport picture against my face, and passed my documents to his seated partner. The seated agent used a black light to inspect the security markings on my passport and put a small stamp on my boarding pass.

Cairo: After checking my bags at the ticket counter, I entered an immigration line. A man behind a counter flipped through my passport and handed it to a second man, who applied an immigration stamp. Passport in hand, I left the line expecting to find a security checkpoint, but to my surprise, there wasn’t one. I was in the airport itself, surrounded by Duty Free shops, cafes, boarding areas and crowds of travelers.

 

JFK: After my boarding pass received the TSA stamp of approval, I proceeded to the scanning infrastructure. I took off my belt and shoes, put my laptop in a plastic bin, and (per instruction I’ve received on other flights) waited with my things until I could physically push them onto the short conveyer belt feeding the baggage scanner. Empty handed, I walked through a metal detector (which did not alarm), and passed by another TSA agent holding a hand-held metal detector. She gave me an “all clear” nod, and I waited for my bag to emerge from the scanner.

Cairo: As boarding time neared, I approached my gate and encountered a security agent checking travel documents. The agent looked at it briefly and handed it back to me. I can’t be sure he got a good look at my photo and immigration stamp, but he might have. Maybe.

Entering a waiting area, I encountered a baggage scanner and metal detector. There were no roped lines or physical barriers between me, the machinery and the tunnel to the plane (which was about 50 feet ahead). There were two security workers overseeing the equipment. Out of habit, I took my laptop from its bag, took off my belt and emptied my pockets, sending everything into the scanner. The metal detector was silent this time, and I gathered my belongings as they rolled out of the scanner. As I did, I noticed a bucket beside one of the workers. In it were bottles of water, cans of soda, lighters and other objects – items confiscated from travelers during the scanning process. I did not point out that my bag – the one just cleared by the machines and security staff – contained a can of soda and a lighter.

In comparing these experiences, I don’t mean to criticize Cairo International’s security crew. Nor am I inferring TSA is a perfect model all other countries should follow. Rather, the comparison highlights how national priorities can affect security standards. Thus far, Cairo International has not produced a deadly security breach. By consequence, Egypt’s aviation security holds a lesser priority (and demands fewer resources) than other national challenges. A motivated person could likely circumvent the airport’s security measures, but until they do, the need just isn’t there. That is not the case in the United States.

U.S. taxpayers fund an elaborate, sophisticated aviation security operation that is among the most effective of any in the world. At U.S. airports, TSA has a singular mission – to keep dangerous people and items off airplanes. An elected government delivered this mandate because the threat to the country is severe. Beyond the 9/11 attacks, there are individuals, groups and even countries that would again turn the aviation system against the nation, if they could. This drives the national priority to secure the skies. It is why America’s aviation security, for better or worse, looks and works the way it does.

Public debate and criticism is one way citizens shape U.S. government action, which is a good thing. Making security efforts more effective (and more palatable) is an important ongoing effort. Yet, even as TSA’s methods draw public ire, we should keep Cairo in mind. If America has higher priorities and the majority of voters and their elected representatives conclude TSA’s security efforts cause more trauma than they prevent, JFK can easily be made to look like Cairo International. But no one wants that, even those who sharply criticize TSA.

America’s method for aviation security is not yet perfect, but to be fair, this isn’t August 2001 and the United States isn’t Egypt. The public debate will and should continue, but it’s worth remembering the reason for TSA’s airport security and recognizing just how superior their work is to other countries’ efforts. In addition to criticism, fliers should offer some credit to an organization (TSA) that acts as it does because, unfortunately, the United States does not have much choice, particularly when the public demands a secure aviation system.