on protection

So many conversations lately have centered on the conflict of involvement in and avoidance of government, and the type of government created by either response.  The recent WikiLeaks publicity has prompted an even more visceral response to "invasions of privacy" and alleged conspiracy.  I'm somewhat privileged in such conversations; as a non-citizen, I'm allowed to comment at-a-distance, scrutinize, support and remain skeptical without any real need to actually take a side.  I can align myself with Republicans or Democrats, with the Tea Party movement or Constitution Party, but at the end of the day I'm not beholden to any real view, and I can redact any strong opinion without any consequences, because my vote wouldn't matter in such cases anyway.  I can criticize whatever government strategy I want, and my statements don't need to fit a certain ideological mold.  

The conversation that American democracy constantly prompts is the security versus liberty one.  Would I rather have the government refrain from disclosing threats to encourage a sense of safety (and would this safety be a false one?  What if the threats had been controlled and were no longer "relevant" to our public knowledge?), or reveal all on a rolling basis and feel constantly vulnerable?  The initial vision for democracy as put forth by the Greeks sought to bring the widest number of citizens into public service, and so I can assume that there was an underlying desire to make sure that every policy, thought and law was known by as many people as possible.  Is this not what the Founding Fathers had in mind?  Was discontent with British monarchy not at some level contingent upon thoughtful and active citizens feeling they were being kept at bay from active policy-making and nation-forming?  I suppose a better question to ask would be why we feel we're entitled to know.  The secrets that the government allegedly keeps are like the car crash that we deeply regret: we're upset that it had to happen, but we're still so eager to see its grisly wreckage.  Do we want to feel engaged in the larger battles that are at hand, afraid of our small lives and in sore need of some large-scale drama?  Or do we feel we would have better advice for political analysts, strategists and policy makers?  Or do we distrust our government's decision-making?  

When Pete Peterson writes in this Front Porch Republic article that "perhaps it’s time to talk about the courage demanded in setting limits" (in particular reference to the TSA's increasingly physical pat-downs, but also to higher-up "confidential material"), I'm inclined to wonder what American responses would be to the sudden wealth of information.  The feared mass hysteria, or increased patriotism, public servitude, and voting?  Wouldn't more citizens feel as though they were called to find ways to serve the nation between election days, and in ways other than military service?  And this is not a jibe against the military--with both of my siblings serving in the armed forces I'm in full support of such political involvement.  However, I also believe that people without such inclinations should also be afforded opportunities to feel necessary in the larger scope of the State of the Nation.

Anyway, a long aside to get to my point, which is actually not my point at all but a quote from someone who so powerfully discerned--and overcame--imposed limits and regards for safety:  "Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." (Helen Keller)