Logic of security

Freedom and security are often seen as incompatible. We need to give up some of our rights, privacy, and claims for transparency for everyone to be safe. But can we really pretend that this equation still holds? Is the relationship between the two really the same for everyone?

For some people, freedom and security go hand in hand. Suppose you collaborate with partners some deem ‘controversial’, like fossil fuel companies that knowingly obscure their part in environmental destruction. Or Israeli academic institutions complicit in the Israeli army’s criminal attacks on Gaza. In this case, what is important for TU Delft is protecting your academic freedom. And of course, we make sure that such collaborations are kept private, under lock and key – after all, we need to protect our people!

But for others, freedom and security are tossed out altogether. If you dare publicly contest the moral legitimacy of these collaborations, or protest against them, no more Mr Nice Guy. Indeed, what recent events have proven is that you don’t even need to commit a crime for your own university to report you to the police.

Those uncivilised Americans! That could never happen here!

Haven’t we seen this before? Just last year, as students across the pond erupted in protests over what they perceived as their institutions’ inaction in the face of an unfolding genocide, administrators had to choose between protecting their academic community and enforcing the status quo. As they turned in their own students and tacitly supported state repression of protesters, we tut-tutted: those uncivilised Americans! That could never happen here!

And yet it did happen here. A natural consequence of the ever-encroaching logic of security, just like the initial justification for not sharing the ‘secret’ (not secret) agreement between TU Delft and the police. Of course it is not our intention to stifle criticism. We just want to maintain the public order.

The logic of security arises from a clever sleight of hand. You start by delaying action on controversial collaborations, and do not respond to criticism levelled through official channels despite widespread disagreement from the academic community. As a consequence, frustrated students and employees speak out and organise in protest. Because they challenge the status quo outside official channels, they become a threat to the public order. Ta-da! This way, even a guy writing a critical article in the TU Delft newspaper can threaten the public order. And measures that would otherwise seem an exaggerated escalation – again, the victims had not committed a crime – become warranted.

But don’t worry. If you’re comfortable with the status quo, if you do your job, if you stay in line, you will be all right. If you don’t do anything wrong, there’s no need to be afraid. But who actually defines what doing something wrong is? You and I, we can disagree and debate. But it’s not us who decides. Those in power get to bend the definition to suit their own purposes. Today, rejoice! Their victims are people you disagree with. And tomorrow?