NO BUTTON TO PUSH, THANKFULLY
THE KNEE-JERK LOGIC OF 'LESS LETHAL WEAPONS' MAY POSE A SERIOUS THREAT TO THE PHILOSOPHICAL UNDERPINNINGS OF DEMOCRACY
24 November 2005

It has been said in recent decades that leaders of nuclear-armed states have a "finger on the button". It is an alarming yet somewhat convenient concept, but it has not generally been all that accurate. It turns out, as we look back on the Cold War "brinksmanship" of mutually-assured destruction (MAD), that both the USSR and the USA guarded their superpotent polarity with carefully complex systems of security, multiple-key activation and other failsafes.

In terms of how younger nuclear regimes, conditioned by different political environments, are operated, it is not as clear —just as it wasn't clear when the Cold War was at its bitter coldest—, but it remains true that it seems rhetorically useful for new nuclear powers to behave as if the failsafes were not all that failsafe, as if their leaders did have a "finger on the button" and according to the strategy espoused by both Kruschev and Nixon at different times of giving the appearance of being at least a bit irrational.

The central question for nuclear diplomacy to resolve is whether or not everyone comprehends and signs up to the essential boundaries of the nuclear game. It has long been the case that having the option is a better choice than using it, that bargaining power is, yes, too attractive to make global bans work, but careful negotiation can tempt otherwise maverick regimes to seek resilience in diplomacy via disarmament —reference Libya, c. 2004.

It is also, thankfully, true that the esoteric and complex science behind controlled nuclear chain reactions is layered and intricate enough that a "button" does not suffice as a trigger. This, then, is the moment to alert the reader: this is not an essay about nuclear science. Instead, we address here an idea that was a metaphor and now is myth, and which has spread throughout contemporary consciousness: the Button as fast-track to problem solving.

Perhaps a logical basis for, and a logical derivation of, the idea of the "finger on the button" rhetoric is that the official in such a position will be tempted to use the darkest of all weapons as a tool to quickly solve otherwise intractable difficulties, to wipe out an enemy's will with the touch of a button. While world powers condemn rogue states that would use "nuclear blackmail" as leverage in diplomatic tussles, it is the underlying "button" assumption that makes the least immoral use of this genocidal weapon that of artful diplomatic extortion, as evinced by the strategies of the great powers during much of the 20th century.

This, then, leads to a whole new set of references and metaphorical excursions. By that, I mean that the push-button answer becomes a kind of presumed logical premise, around which policy begins to be structured. The irony, of course, is that the nuclear-confrontation system that spawned this mythical problem-solving option, never actually permitted or embraced its implementation. The Button, however close a resemblance it may bear to one or more steps of the technical process, was always a nuclear metaphor, a tool for talk, not for direct eradication of any given problem.

But somehow, as the proverb seeped into popular consciousness —perhaps helped along by the conventient way in which telecommunications technologies place information literally at the user's fingertips—, it mobilized related streams of thought and envisioning. People came to expect that those who preside over superpowers must enjoy a kind of superhuman prowess to effect results, to shape reality. And so, the idea that a "push-button solution" is available gains momentum, and that logic is applied to a range of issues.

Free-trade-favoring politicians adopt the idea that "liberalizing" markets, which means taking down tax barriers and regulatory framework, automatically leads to prosperity, democratization and individual liberties. Labor leaders adopt the idea that mass action is inherently just, beneficial to all, and the only way to negotiate fair terms. Religiously-minded activists and preachers will say that faith triggers salvation —regardless of whether that "faith" is limited to a narrow dogma, a distortion of ancient teachings or includes any genuine self-criticism—, that virtue is born of professed belief and constructed discourse and not from personal beneficence, tolerance or charity.

The easy replaces the authentic: the complex world of natural systems, phenomena and experience, where negotiation trumps magic and harmony comes from agreement not from conquest, is replaced by a defiant belief in metaphysical simplifications in which one's will is supposed to be effectuated automatically, by pushing the mythical Button, be it nuclear, financial, legislative, emotional or dogmatic.

It could be argued, with good reason, that this is but one more fold in the fabric of human foible and complexity, but the push-button ethos is more problematic than that: it poses a radical departure from modern civilization's emphasis on dialogue, learning, tolerance and negotiation; it refutes the entire concept of the rule of law and proposes a kind of "will-for-willing's-sake" doctrine.

Author Jonathan Schell, in his book The Unconquerable World, presents a thorough and studied historical argument that war is obsolete. He does not argue that it will not occur, but rather that it is no longer necessary, that civilization now presents a wealth of other options to accomplish most of the goals warfare once served and that the rest of those goals are now recognized, quite officially, in international law as illegitimate.

Essentially, war was once a means of obtaining without compromise, obtaining the unavailable or fulfilling territorial concerns without negotiation, whereas now, the entire international system is arranged to avoid armed conflict. Yet still, push-button militarism is seen as a useful idea to some in powerful places, and governments everywhere are still amply tempted.

The advent of a new class of what were formerly called "less-than-lethal" weapons, as an alternative to firearms in police-work and riot-response, have presented governments with the idea, though not exactly the possibility, of halting turbulent incidents with the deployment of weapons made more usable by their claim not to be harmful to the health of the target.

Sadly, the use of these weapons has migrated, and many now allege they are prone to what is known as "mission creep", adding new uses for which they are not optimal or may in fact be totally out of place. Now called "less lethal", a phrase whose increasing frequency almost seems an admission by officialdom of their proven threat to human life, weapons like the "taser" and "flash-bang" are increasingly popular among governments fearful of unrest or terrorist incidents.

The taser, now nearly a generic term derived from the company that pioneered their manufacture, is a type of gun which projects two dart-like electrodes on the end of long cords into the target, and then jolts their body with 50,000 volts of electricity, creating intense physical pain and temporarily immobilizing the body. The device permits its user to control the time during which the shock will continue and typically ranges from 5 seconds down to 1 second, and there are many cases reported where the charge was repeated until the target was rendered unconscious. Some targets with heart conditions have reportedly died within days of experiencing the shocks.

The flash-bang, so named for its sensory effects, emits a deafening explosive sound and blinding light and is intended to startle and disorient its target, disabling or confusing their sensory function long-enough for agents to overpower them. In at least one case in New York where an elderly woman's apartment was accidentally raided in a drug-bust, the apparent result of the "bang" was heart attack and death.

The mission creep seen in the deployment of these weapons regards their use in "subduing" or "apprehending" ordinary citizens who are not accused of any serious or violent crime and who clearly pose no physical danger to the responding officers. The Utne Reader documents a case where a woman was repeatedly "tased" by an officer ordering her to step out of her vehicle during a routine traffic stop.

Debate has become more heated and the weapons themselves are coming under fire, for not meeting their initial promise of being "less-than-lethal". Experts, including high-ranking police officials, have recommended that national standards be set in the US, allowing the weapons to be used only when there is a serious threat of bodily harm to officers from a recognized weapon clearly in the possession of a criminal suspect, but at present no national standard of the kind is in place.

Consequently, these "less lethal" weapons are being given new roles in a number of different scenarios, including crowd control. It has been argued that soon to be available new weapons could be widely used in dispersing demonstrators. Among such tools are two highly controversial Pentagon projects: the Active Denial System (ADS) and Pulsed Energy Projectiles (PEP).

ADS, according to the New Scientist (July 23, 2005), would pose a serious danger to anyone who might be carrying metal in their pockets. The device is a 95-gigahertz microwave beam designed to "rapidly head skin and cause an unbearable burning sensation that will send rioters fleeing from its path within seconds". [Utne]

PEP is reported to be a laser pulse, possible sent from a distance of one mile or more, which would have the effect of delivering an "invisible punch", creating intense pain but leaving no physical damage. Human rights groups and many in the scientific and legal communities have expressed concern that the new weapons would be used to stifle free expression or political assembly and/or as a means of performing abusive interrogations without leaving any physical evidence.

It is also widely speculated that serious physical trauma could result and that phychological trauma would also ensue. But simply on a philosophical level, the devices pose very serious concerns: first of all, it is a monumental departure from existing law, in the US and elsewhere, to actively promote the deliberate induction of intense physical pain or unconsciousness as a means of securing an area or quieting down an unruly crowd.

In the end, it is the problem of the automatic solution, the push-button off-switch negation of difficulty or complexity. A wrinkle in the fabric of society can be smoothed over with the flip of a switch. That logic is fundamentally flawed and based on untrue assumptions. At this stage of the development and experimental use of these tools, it is clear that overuse is a real risk and that their intended use is possibly contrary to basic civil liberties provisions of constitutional law.

Thankfully, there is no button which exists by which the human mind or body can be instantly, harmlessly, switched off. And it is for that reason that laws and law-enforcement practices must address the problem of raucous crowds, of political dissent or even of violent conflict with unruly criminal suspects, from the point of view that government does not actually have any legal authority by which to instantaneously, on the snap judgement of an agent on the street, "turn off" the minds or bodies of its citizens. [s]