Safety vs. Homeland Security
(New York Times, 03/05/05) They are just pieces of cardboard, and
they cover less than a square foot on the side of railroad tank car. But behind
them lies a post-9/11 competition between public safety and national security. For decades, emergency-response teams
approaching train wrecks have peered at the signs through binoculars to see
what dangerous chemicals might be leaking. But federal officials will soon
decide on a proposal to remove the placards from all tank cars. Their fear is
that terrorists could use them to lock in on targets for highly toxic attacks.
The idea has sparked an outcry from
firefighters and rail workers, who say removing the signs could endanger their
lives. They say federal officials seem more focused on guarding against a
terrorist attack than on the daily threat of accidents. "There's this feeling that you have to
secure everything possible in every way possible for every possible kind of
terrorist attack," Garry L. Briese, executive director of the
International Association of Fire Chiefs, said.
The dispute illustrates a growing
push to mask sensitive data about the nation’s industrial base from the prying
eyes of potential terrorists. In the tug of war over tank cars and other
industrial information, critics question whether the move toward secrecy is
overwhelming safety concerns and even chilling debates over how to eliminate
the vulnerabilities. People who live near
chemical and nuclear plants, dams and oil and gas pipelines complain that it
has become harder to find out about disaster plans and environmental hazards,
and some have sued for more information. Engineering reports have been stripped
from government web sites, and several agencies are creating new controls on
sensitive information that go far beyond the wide-ranging classification system
built in the cold war.
Federal officials say although they
are trying to strike a reasonable balance, some clashes are inevitable, and
more are likely to occur. If delicate information leaks out, “it gives our
adversaries too much of a picture of what our vulnerabilities are," Jack
L. Johnson Jr., chief security officer at the Department of Homeland Security,
said.
Internal government e-mail messages
show that months before the train bombings last March in Madrid,
transportation officials stopped the Defense Intelligence Agency from releasing
a report on rail vulnerabilities in the United
States.
The messages, which were obtained by The New York Times from a former
federal official, show that the report was intended to spark debate among
officials on improving rail security. But after complaints from the industry,
one senior transportation official helped block the report by arguing that if
it became public "I could foresee this paper being a handout in the next
session of Al Qaeda’s rail-attack course."
A similar secrecy question is
unfolding in Washington. On
Tuesday, the District of Columbia Council extended a ban on shipping hazardous
cargo through Washington. Even as it opposed the ban, the CSX railroad
company quietly re-routed some cargo away from Capitol Hill last spring. But
citing security, railroad and security officials refused for months to tell the
Council about the rerouting. It turns out that the railroad simply shifted the
cargoes to tracks in other neighborhoods.
Federal and railroad officials said the other tracks seemed less likely
to be targets. A Council member, Kathy
Patterson, said, "There was just a total alliance between the homeland
security and railroad officials that was very disheartening."
Another hot area of debate over
secrecy is the atomic energy industry. The Nuclear Regulatory Commission has
stashed away an enormous trove of documents about nuclear power plants,
suspending access to much of its Web site while weeding out reports that might aid
terrorists. A spokeswoman for the
commission, Sue F. Gagner, said that access to 380,000 documents was suspended
last October and that 120,000 had been made available again. "We think it's very important to be
diligent about having information that could potentially be helpful to a
terrorist," Ms. Gagner said.
The commission has also issued classified
orders on how the plants guard against terror attacks, and citizens' groups
have been fighting in court to demand public input. "You can hide the information, but if
the vulnerability still exists, the bad guys will find it," said Gary D.
Bass, executive director of OMB Watch, a group in Washington
that supports more openness. "So let's reduce the vulnerability instead." Mr. Bass said similar debates had prompted
some complexes like a sprawling sewage plant in Washington
to switch to less-toxic chemicals.
In some instances, new dictates
have eclipsed broader health and safety concerns. Living Rivers, an environmental group in Utah,
sued a federal agency after it had refused to release flood maps showing what
areas would be inundated if major dams failed. A federal judge ruled for the
agency, saying he agreed that releasing the maps "could increase the risk of
an attack on the dams."
The shift to greater secrecy began
after the Sept. 11, 2001,
attacks. Mr. Johnson, of the Homeland Security Department, said a captured
training manual showed that Al Qaeda expected to glean 80 percent of what it
needed to plan attacks in the United States
from open sources. The government has
turned to a smorgasbord of new controls for withholding sensitive - but
unclassified - information. The Homeland
Security Department has designations like "Sensitive Homeland Security
Information" and "Protected Critical Infrastructure
Information." Airport workers use "Sensitive Security
Information" to hold back the details of pat-downs. The Federal Energy
Regulatory Commission stamps "Critical Energy Infrastructure
Information" on pipeline maps.
Officials said many companies had
long resisted disclosing security flaws to the government out of fear of leaks.
Mr. Johnson said that the department was blending what it obtained from the
companies with intelligence about terrorist intentions and that it intended to
share much of that analysis with local officials who agree to keep it
confidential.
Sometimes the battles are more
visible. Since chlorine leaking from a
derailed tank car killed nine people and injured hundreds last month in South
Carolina, the fight over the railroad placards has
emerged as the most potent symbol of the debate. The Homeland Security and Transportation
Departments have been considering whether to remove the placards since August. Firefighters, railroad workers and large
chemical companies are adamant about keeping the placards. Statistics show that
chemicals leak from dozens of rail cars a year and that deaths occur
periodically.
The chlorine placard is black and
white. It has skull and crossbones and the number 1017, the chlorine code. Without placards, "we'd be completely in
the dark" at many crashes, said Joe Ashbaker, a supervisor in the San
Bernardino County Fire Department in California. The railroads have their doubts. "We
were for the placards, until 9/11, when it became clear they presented a
security risk," the industry’s lobbying group, the Association of American
Railroads, said in a statement. The
railroads also say they are working to create a system that meets security and
safety needs.
But two studies by the
Transportation Department have shown that the alternatives, electronic systems
that could transmit lists of chemicals on a train by radio or satellite, would
be more expensive, cumbersome and less effective on safety. Texas
A&M University
is finishing another study. Jamie
Conrad, a lawyer for the American Chemistry Council, which lobbies for large chemical
makers, said he could see how a placard might "advertise a little
bit" the best cars to attack. "But
where we come down is that if you take it off, you know that people will be
killed in accidents," Mr. Conrad said. "And you’re basically
balancing that against the theoretical prospect that terrorists might be
lurking on that corner."
Posted: 03/05/05