The Wall

I can see another country from my bedroom.

I've only been here for a few weeks, but that still amazes me.

This really is just one big city that happens to straddle two countries. Even though the official population is only 20,000 people, Nogales is the largest border town in Arizona. But the official census count is deceiving. It's not at all uncommon for a US citizen to reside in Nogales, Sonora for the cheaper cost of living, and then cross the border every day for work.

Of course, the border crossing is more than just lines of commuters. Freight trucks, ambulances, and even trains cross the border on a daily basis, and monitoring them is unfathomably complex work.

Tracks bringing freight trains from Mexico. The gate itself is in the background.

Train car Xray equipment a few hundred yards into the US.

Not surprisingly, the border is the main economic driver in the region. Nearly everyone here either works for the warehousing/freight industry that brings produce and goods across the border, or is a federal agent keeping watch. There are a lot of politics wrapped up in those two industries, and it's a delicate balance between flow of commerce and preventing unwelcome elements. There isn't a person in this country that wants to see criminal enterprises taking advantage of a porous border. But not only is an impermeable wall logistically impossible, it's against our country's best interest. $30 billion of trade crosses the border every year, and we'd be foolish to let that dry up.

As an aside, I also believe that it's a shame to block the healthy flow of people and wildlife on its own merits, but that's not the argument that I want to make here. Our economy can't support a closed border, and a closed border doesn't really do much to prevent the crime that we're actually concerned about, anyway.

One of the political struggles over the past decade has been finding the right balance of security and rationality along the US-Mexico border. Despite the headlines, both Nogales' are incredibly safe. They have lower rates of both serious and petty crime than most other US cities, and the crime that they do have is almost exclusively gang on gang. The rhetoric just doesn't fit the facts.

Tall walls invite taller ladders (or deeper tunnels), and don't really do much to stem the tide of drugs or people. Ironically, the only thing that has stemmed the flow of immigrants has been economic improvement in Mexico coupled with a recession here in the US. It's not that anybody really wants to uproot their family, move out of their homeland, and face walls, guns, and deserts. They're just not left with many other choices.

Similarly, the only thing that shows promise in stemming the drug trade (and the violence it brings) is a recalibrated drug policy here and in Mexico. "Securing the border" plays well in Washington, but it misses the issue. More guns and more fences don't solve the real problems, and they can actually create some of their own. In fact, the escalation of enforcement has led some observers to now call this a militarized border.

I'll anger some friends by saying this, but that's a bit of a stretch. This isn't Checkpoint Charlie, and there aren't tanks posted on the hills. But there are SUVs up there with well-armed agents inside of them. This is one of the most heavily policed regions in the world, and while that isn't a bad thing on its face, we need to balance the pros with the cons. Border agents have an exceedingly difficult job, and we should make sure that the danger we place them in is contributing to a better, safer United States.

Is a heavy police presence a provocation in its own right? What crimes do we actually want to tailor our interventions against? What components of a prevention strategy ultimately make people safer?

I don't have any answers to these questions, and there are probably several correct ones. People far more qualified than I am are setting border security policy here and in DC. I just want to make sure that we're asking them the right questions.