(Interesting approach to the reality of security outside the walls of
DHS....rf)

House Of Cards, Bridge Of Steel
Why not do nothing to defend the Golden Gate Bridge?

Martha Baer, special to SF Gate

Wednesday, March 16, 2005
 
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/g/a/2005/03/16/ggbridge4.DTL

All our carefully considered structural modifications, security precautions
and other expert-driven measures aside, the bottom-line question still
remains: "How do we keep the Golden Gate Bridge safe from a terror attack?"
To which a seemingly end-of-the-road response might be, "How about doing
nothing? What if we left the bowed wonder just as it is?"

At a time when counterterrorism is a ubiquitous byword and the U.S.
Department of Homeland Security plans to spend $40 billion a year to protect
public structures, this recommendation may sound preposterous, but doing
nothing to safeguard the Golden Gate Bridge is a real option. In fact, a
blue-ribbon panel on securing bridges and tunnels says a first round of
analysis should look at three alternatives: "mitigation," that is, spending
money on retrofitting, guards or other security technologies; "transfer,"
which is to say shifting responsibility to insurance companies; and
"acceptance," which the panel translates as "no action."

Mark Loizeaux, president of Controlled Demolition Inc., easily the most
sought-after company in its field, likes the sounds of "acceptance." "Do we
want to spend our money on AIDS research, or on hardening buildings?" he
asks rhetorically. His answer: the former.

Loizeaux is a formidable guy whose paid occupation is to blow up buildings
as big as PacBell Park. It's a family thing: his brother, wife, son and
three daughters all load explosives as well. Just talking with Loizeaux can
make you skittish, as if any moment something might catch fire, because he's
so brash and seemingly fearless. "If I were a terrorist," he says, "I'd look
at a structure layer by layer. I'd peel it, get down to its Achilles heel."

The Loizeaux family company has brought down thousands of structures,
including nuclear facilities, oil-drilling platforms, Seattle's Kingdome,
the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas, the Beirut Hilton and the remains of the
Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, a project domestic
terrorist Timothy McVeigh started. The company is bidding on the demolition
of the to-be-replaced eastern span of the Bay Bridge, and its expertise has
been sought out by the U.S. State Department and the military -- and by at
least one official (whom Loizeaux won't name) concerned about threats to the
Golden Gate Bridge.

So, when Loizeaux talks about whether to spend money and time on
strengthening San Francisco's gorgeous orange span, he's persuasive. "No
matter what man builds," says Loizeaux, "he can take it down." In his view,
no security measures will stop terrorists from destroying the span if they
want to. "Whenever I'm asked to put on a terrorist's hat," Loizeaux
continues, "I say, 'You can't stop me.'"

The best any operational or structural efforts will accomplish, he believes,
is to discourage an attacker from bothering with your particular target. But
that will do little more than send him to his next one. If you make the dam
harder to destroy, he'll target the chemical plant; harden the plant, and
he'll attack the embassy. "If I were a terrorist," Loizeaux continues, "I'd
just bide my time." Loizeaux would much prefer that counterterrorism efforts
focus on interdiction or cutting off funding to terrorist groups. "We need
to take the fight to them," he says.

Although this view might seem imprudent to bridge officials or Marin-based
commuters to the City, most engineers wouldn't bat an eye at it. For one
thing, they know the huge costs of many protection measures can be wasted.
According to Eve Hinman, an expert on blast-resistant design, hundreds of
millions of dollars were spent shoring up the base of the World Trade Center
buildings following the bombing there in 1993. All that, of course, was
rendered useless on 9/11.

Engineers also know just how difficult the destruction of the Golden Gate
Bridge really is. Older structures such as the bridge, completed in 1937,
have the advantage of age as well as heft. "Designers of old bridges and
buildings were very conservative," Hinman explains. "The less they knew, the
more safety they'd build in." (Without computers, Charles Ellis, the
bridge's designer, used about 10 books full of handwritten equations to work
through the structure's requirements.) She offers an example: "The Empire
State Building is much less efficient in terms of usable space than the
World Trade Towers were, but it's also more robust."

Though it's certainly possible, bringing down a structure so well built and
massive would be an unlikely and extraordinary feat. "These bridges are not
built of tissue paper," says Hinman. Roupen Donikian, an engineer at San
Francisco-based T.Y. Lin, which has worked on seismic retrofitting of the
Golden Gate Bridge, has a similar attitude. "I'm not worried about it,"
Donikian says. "Bringing down a bridge is a very hard thing to do.

"I'm more scared of the administration in the White House than anything
else," he adds, "and you can quote me on that."

All of their arguments are compelling. After all, these experts are
intimately acquainted with the bridge's vulnerabilities. But what makes this
do-nothing approach unlikely is that it's simply not practical in societal
terms. From a broad, national perspective, Loizeaux may be right to question
the logic of protecting one site to simply send attackers to an easier
target, but, as far as locals are concerned, sending your enemy elsewhere
has a lot of appeal. Like all kinds of policy making, decisions about
security are political, temporal and local. To make no attempts to better
safeguard the Golden Gate Bridge would be to act in a vacuum.

Consider the political fallout of doing nothing. No Golden Gate Bridge
official, San Francisco supervisor, California state official or Homeland
Security Department honcho wants to take the chance of being held
accountable for gruesome, "preventable" deaths. Politically, it's far better
to make even failed efforts to prevent tragedy than to -- however reasonably
-- make no efforts at all.

Plus, there's money to be had -- security money, flowing to governments and
into the marketplace. Just as funding for earthquake retrofitting has come
in great waves since the San Fernando quake in 1971, washing in again after
Loma Prieta in '89 and then Northridge in '94, security funds may be
available only in short bursts, and no Bay Area leaders want to pass up a
chance at the jackpot. In fact, it would be foolhardy to do so.

Aside from political ramifications, the funding provides security upgrades
that can actually yield real benefits. Although not particularly efficient,
those cycles of earthquake funding, over time, have enabled retrofitting
efforts as well as education about temblor behavior that add up to real
improvements in our ability to survive them. Similarly, over time,
counterterrorism measures can deter attackers, reduce the damage of an
attack that occurs and strengthen our ability to respond.

Structural and operational measures also have ancillary benefits not
specific to terrorist threats. More cops at the bridge can provide more
safety and response power in situations that involve ordinary visitors.
Better lighting is good for everyone, not just for counterterrorism patrols.
And more attention to activity on the water means more safety for anyone
afloat.

Moreover, the very discussions about security funding have benefits of their
own. Ask most people involved in infrastructure how their jobs have changed
since 9/11, and they'll tell you their professional circles have broadened,
that they've found themselves at the table across from people they would
never have known before, that they're communicating across old divides.

Dennis Mulligan, the Golden Gate Bridge's chief engineer, says he's met
military types whose expertise is largely new to him. U.S. Coast Guard Cmdr.
Gordon Loebl says, "Before, it was hard to get the FBI to show up at a
meeting; now, they're co-chairing them with us." Across agencies and
disciplines, new connections are being forged -- between legislators and
scientists, engineers and tourist boards -- and the parties are ultimately
forced to sit down in conference rooms and hammer out counterterrorism
decisions together. Says Leo Gonnering, an expert in infrastructure security
at the prominent New York engineering firm Parsons Brinckerhoff, "In these
little sessions, I haven't seen fisticuffs, but I've seen pretty heated
arguments." This kind of communication can have huge value among civic
cultures that are often surprisingly ignorant of one another. Sharing
information can make everyone smarter, especially when the new challenge of
security is generating deeper analysis of the bridge itself, of the physical
and human forces that define it.

Securing the Golden Gate Bridge will always involve money, fear, guesswork
and politics. But the great bridge has made it through the mire of competing
interests before. As far back as the 1930s, when construction of the bridge
was under debate, supporters and employees of the Marin-San Francisco ferry
service were battling with the bridge builders over turf, so the players
launched a whispering campaign to destroy trust in the bridge. Rumor had it
that a few hundred men marching in lockstep across it could bring the bridge
down, and that, even more preposterously, the vibrations of a violin played
at just the right pitch would cause the whole structure to crumble.

The public didn't fall for the violins back then, and, despite warring
interests over its very construction, the Golden Gate Bridge still stands as
a beacon today: an aesthetic, symbolic, bold and brilliant piece of
mathematics. And the odds are that the bridge will keep standing.
Discussions about terror threats will continue. Leaders will continue to
make decisions based on risk assessments, structural hardening and human
resources. And if none of those measures are implemented, or if they fail,
and terrorists get up close, they'll still have to contend with the raw
might of the thing itself. They'll still have to face down the tremendous
power, both corporeal and poetic, of the great bowed wonder.

# # # # #

Martha Baer most recently co-authored "Safe: The Race to Protect Ourselves
in a Newly Dangerous World" (HarperCollins, 2005) and is a regular
contributor to Tango magazine.




You are a subscribed member of the infowarrior list. Visit 
www.infowarrior.org for list information or to unsubscribe. This message 
may be redistributed freely in its entirety. Any and all copyrights 
appearing in list messages are maintained by their respective owners.

Reply via email to