THE BORDER REPORT

It was only a matter of time, I guess, but U.S. Customs and Border Protection is finally moving into the 21st century – and it’s making me uncomfortable as hell. The port inspectors have quietly started searching the laptops and cellphones of incoming visitors to the United States, in some cases holding on to the gear for days at a time; something perpetrated, they say, by the threat of terrorism in the digital age. Of course. On a personal level, it’s a nightmare come true. As a journalist, I carry entire gigabytes of what I consider sensitive information; photos, audio recordings, video, story notes, memos and intelligence reports drafted by the Justice Department and Drug Enforcement Administration, you name it. I’m probably a bit more paranoid than your average traveler, but ever since I started reading about these new search policies, everything’s going to external hard-drives and web-mail. What’s on your laptop? Out of curiosity, I asked a friend of mine, a Sinaloan businessman who works as a NAFTA liaison to produce companies in the United States. “A la madre,” he said. “I carry everything on this thing,” he said, pointing at his black Dell. “When are they going to start doing this?” It appears they’ve already started. So far, the searches seem to focus only on people coming in from countries in the Middle East and South Asia. But, the Washington Post found one woman, a British national, whose laptop was seized when she was flying from Dulles International Airport to London. She told the Post that she surrendered her laptop in December 2006 and has yet to get it back. Last week, the Electronic Frontier Foundation filed a lawsuit against the Homeland Security Department, asking a judge to order the agency to clarify how it selects who gets scrutinized when entering the country. Among the arguments was the searching of laptop computers. Now, I seriously doubt that customs inspectors at LAX are interested in searching the devices of every inbound passenger off Mexico City flights, and if they did, what would they find? I doubt that Nacho Coronel’s money launderers carry the account numbers to their offshore accounts and names of their fake San Diego businesses on their MacBook Pros. One of the most successful narco-lawyers I know in Phoenix doesn’t even know what a USB port is. The old man carries a beat-up black book and a ballpoint pen to handle his business with. Everything else, he likes to say with a sly grin, is in his mind. And, let’s face it; our ports are a logistical mess. The biometric scanners they’re supposed to use to verify laser visa travelers are usually out of order. Harried inspectors get it both ways; check people too slow and the business communities are up in arms. Too fast, and the border security enthusiasts grow agitated. But that’s also the most worrisome part of these searches. Having been a recent victim of the U.S. Postal Service – a week’s worth of mail somehow disappeared after I asked the post office to hold onto it for five days while I was away – it’s easy to imagine a diligent inspector confiscating my laptop, then losing it in the sticky web of the federal bureaucracy. Rolling your eyes, are you? Take another look at the London example above. Sooner or later, it’s going to happen here; whether it’s an incoming flight from Hermosillo, a Guadalajara-based businessman crossing through Laredo, some unsuspecting parent whose child has downloaded 2,700 songs off Limewire; it’s coming. In many ways, it was inevitable. Most everyone carries some sort of technology, be it a cellphone, laptop or iPod. They’ve become the external hard drives of the mind. But that external logistic is what makes them no different than a suitcase in the eyes of the customs agency and sooner or later some money-launderer, child pornographer or intellectual property thief is going to get nailed when they cross the port from Mexico. Then, with all the power of the proven self-righteous, it will begin. So do yourself a favor and take one last look at that laptop before you cross the next time. If you forget, call me. It’s not too often I get to write a told-you-so column.

-- Michel Marizco