Ronald Dorman

In the lexicon of American history, few words possess the power to conjure more vivid or visceral emotions than Klan.  The noose and cowl are indelibly inked on the fabric of our society as enduring symbols of fear, depravity and raw hatred.  The Ku Klux Klan is responsible for a litany of brutal atrocities against innocent men, women and children.  In attempting to make sense of the senseless, many Americans have chosen to frame the Klan as a mindless cult of white Dixie despots, psychopathically slaughtering emancipated blacks to reestablish a twisted image of the Grand Old South.  That comforting depiction does not wholly withstand scrutiny and fails to consider important questions.

Over the course of several years, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has worked diligently to improve the quality of its leaders. Such efforts have focused almost exclusively on initiating or expanding programs related to leadership development. To date, the impact of that exertion might be charitably described as tepid. While the issues associated with existing leaders have received ample attention, the selection process that precipitated them has not. This gap represents an opportunity to explore a nascent space and suggest new solutions that target the problem at the source. This thesis examines the process of leadership selection at a network level and finds several systemic problems related to measurement, structure, and decision-making. These problems bear a striking resemblance to those observed in the intelligence community and its ability to accurately predict complex future geopolitical events. One method that has dramatically improved the accuracy of geopolitical predictions is Superforecasting. At its core, leadership selection is a prediction or a forecast. It is an educated but nonetheless imperfect best guess about how a candidate observed today will perform tomorrow. These features collectively suggest a novel question. Could DHS use a Superforecasting methodology to improve its leadership selection process? This thesis follows the progression of that question to an unexpected destination and offers several concrete recommendations.

This paper seeks to explore a machine's capacity to intercept, interpret and repurpose unspoken words in the form of subvocal human communication. It begins with a historical overview of the technology followed by milestones achieved, the state of current research, and potential benefits to homeland security and beyond. Finally, it will cast its gaze into the future and apply imagination to the question to suggest some potentially ominous implications of interfacing man and machine. The Babel fish is small, yellow, leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the universe. 1 One does not have to look very hard to find science fiction writers who have immersed themselves in a literary world in which brain signals can be hijacked, harnessed and manipulated. Douglas Adams famously made use of an ichthyologic interloper to inflict the third-worst poetry in the universe upon his hapless protagonist in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

There is evidence to support the belief that large numbers of criminals in the United States are arrested and convicted of egregious offenses without having ever been fingerprinted by law enforcement.  This vulnerability is the product of significant legislative and policy gaps that create the potential for broad discretionary disparities in biometric practices across the nation.  This paper identifies and explores the available evidence as well as a host of potential implications and ripple effects.  Biometrics are the lens we use to view our public safety landscape.  Without them we are flying blind.  Blind spots create bad outcomes.  Most of the contemporary challenges faced by law enforcement are wickedly complex, offering only least-worst solutions.  This is a problem we can solve.

“I have no idea what homeland security is.  I don’t have a clue.”  I made that confession in December of 2018, seated in a classroom full of truly stunning professors and professionals at the Naval Postgraduate School’s Center for Homeland Defense and Security (CHDS) in Monterey, California.  It was the capstone course.  My classmates and I were on the cusp of graduating from the top homeland security program in the United States.  You could lick the irony.  Eyebrows preternaturally raised and possibly affixed with staples swerved toward the meshuggana in the room.  Shocked, yes, but I sensed some silent solidarity as well.  Just saying it out loud felt good, almost cathartic, but it also felt like failure.  What was wrong with me?