As a result, they argue, the true rate of anti-U.S. recidivism was probably one-in-seventeen, not one-in-four as claimed at the time by U.S. government sources. And Bergen and his colleagues don't differentiate between abstract "dangerousness" of post-Guantánamo activities and actual harm caused by recidivist detainees -- solid information is impossible to obtain, but logically, not all the former detainees who seek to harm the United States will in fact achieve their goals. (Bergen and company do note, dryly, that the Guantánamo recidivism rate looks, by any measure, a whole lot better than the recidivism rate for criminals incarcerated in U.S. prisons: One U.S. study found that nearly two-thirds of released prisoners were ultimately rearrested.)
If we were to think rationally about closing Guantánamo -- I know, not likely -- we would evaluate several factors with regard to potential detainee releases. First, we'd ask how likely it is that a detainee would seek to "rejoin the fight" in one way or another. Second, we'd ask what level of hazard would likely be posed by recidivism: Would we simply have created yet another low-level Taliban or al Qaeda operative, or do we believe a detainee, if released, would be in a position to cause truly grave harm to the United States? Third, we'd ask whether we can mitigate any risk of harm (more on this in a moment). And fourth, we'd ask ourselves some tough questions about the dangers of holding onto detainees indefinitely.
Here again, perhaps even more than in the Afghan context, we should weigh the potential dangers of releasing detainees against the potential long-term threat posed to the United States by our own detention policies. As in Afghanistan, it's hard to entirely unravel overseas anger at U.S. detention policy from anger at other U.S. policies: globally, these likely include U.S. drone strikes, past interrogation policy, or other issues. Nonetheless, there's ample reason to believe that U.S. detention policies have incited anti-American sentiment around the globe.
Our government seems generally averse to engaging in the serious cost-benefit analysis of our detention policies I have suggested here. (It seems similarly averse to engaging in such a cost-benefit analysis of targeted killings.) Congress and the executive branch share the blame for this, but we shouldn't be terribly surprised: For a nation that prides itself on hard-headed capitalist realism, we Americans often seem wholly unable to conduct the most basic risk assessments. In other words: We're routinely irrational when it comes to risk perception.
There's a vast literature on risk perception and risk management. In theory, people should compare risks by evaluating both the probability of a negative event and the potential magnitude of its consequences. In practice, people have trouble accurately assessing either probabilities or consequences: we are often overly influenced by the perceived novelty of dangers, for instance. Similarly, we tend to be less troubled by risks that we believe we can control: Thus, we worry more about plane crashes (low probability, but once you're buckled into your miserable coach class seat, you have zero control) than car crashes (high probability, but if you're at the wheel, you're likely to place excessive faith in your ability to avoid dangers).
This suggests, however, another potential basis for reconsidering our collective fear that released detainees will return to the battlefield. Although we tend to overlook it, we have the ability to significantly control and mitigate the risk posed by released detainees. For one thing, we have the ability to closely monitor released detainees, using a wide range of surveillance technologies -- thus drastically reducing the likelihood of nasty surprises.
We also have the ability to dramatically reduce the likelihood that a released detainee will be welcomed back into the fold by his former comrades. The credibility of released detainees is already low, since their former colleagues are apt to assume they've been compromised. We can make their credibility lower still.
So here's my idea: Have CIA Director John Brennan fly down to Guantánamo with a retinue of news media from all over the world. As the cameras roll, Brennan should hand every last Guantánamo detainee a U.S. passport and ten thousand bucks. (For Khalid Sheik Mohammed, and other high-value detainees, double or triple that figure.) Brennan should hug the detainees, apologize for the inconvenience caused by 10 years in detention, and thank them profusely for everything they've done to help the United States eliminate al Qaeda and its associates.
And then...we should let them go wherever they want. Yemen? Pakistan? Sure, we'll fly them there first class (and monitor every breath they take, every step they take, every call they make, and so on -- wouldn't it be useful to see who they contact?).
With a send-off like that, we can be pretty sure of one thing. Some detainees may want to return to the battlefield...but the battlefield won't be wanting them back.
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