Long lines at airports, to get through security, tell us something.  They tell us that our government is doing something about terrorism.  In fact, the government is mostly crowding travelers into large packs, in the midst of which large carts full of luggage are dragged along.  It makes a pretty good target, but nobody says anything.  Any joke or comment about safety wins you a quick trip to a private room and rubber gloves.

There are other rules, practices, rituals that make us feel safe.   Once we go through those security gates.  The assumption is that terrorist will only target us on the other side.  With hummus.  We take off our shoes, take out our laptops.  No pen-knives, no liquids.  And, it turns out, no hummus, no cottage cheese, no yogurt.  The TSA doesn’t seriously think you could design a bomb that looks like an unopened thing of hummus, does it?  Anybody who could do that could make a meatball sub into something even more dangerous.  And how did they decide what amount was too much?

It’s a safety ritual.  It has to do with making us feel safe and protected.  It’s a bit of theater, really.  When they took my hummus, the TSA guy looked deep into my eyes, with the trained softness of a hostage negotiator or grief counselor.  “I understand,” he said, “I’m a hummus eater too.”  I offered him mine.

Before 9/11, we had a false sense of security.  After 9/11 we had a false sense of danger.  It happened, so we believe it could happen again, anytime, anywhere.  In fact 9/11 took years of planning and organization.   But we need something to tell us that it’s okay to fly.  Ritual security measures are probably more effective than real security, which necessarily takes place out of our view.