It’s time to stop pretending that CLEAR is just another convenience for travelers. CLEAR allows paying customers to bypass TSA’s initial ID check using biometric verification, iris scans, fingerprints and facial recognition for $199 a year. 

But there’s a catch: CLEAR doesn’t perform background checks. Unlike TSA PreCheck or Global Entry, operated by the U.S. Customs and Border Protection and the Transportation Security Administration (TSA), CLEAR only looks to see if your biometrics match your ID. 

Historically, this hasn’t always gone so well. 

CLEAR, a private company, isn’t held to the same standards of transparency or accountability as federal agencies like the TSA. Yet, they are embedded inside over 50 U.S. airports, turning secure zones into business opportunities and treating national infrastructure like a premium subscription model.

In many airports, CLEAR members are even escorted in front of TSA PreCheck travelers,  people who have completed government-run background checks. 

TSA PreCheck allows vetted travelers access to expedited lanes where they can keep their shoes, belts and light jackets on while leaving laptops and approved liquids in their bags. This means that a traveler who purchased CLEAR’s biometric service without undergoing any vetting can cut in front of someone who followed a federal security process.  

People are increasingly distrustful of government institutions, and in many ways, that’s understandable. But when we turn to private companies to handle critical services like airport security, we’re opening the door to more problems. 

And while it’s reasonable to question government authority, we also need to ask whether it’s safer to hand over control to a for-profit company that answers to shareholders, not the public. Unlike government agencies, which are held to certain standards and are subject to public scrutiny, CLEAR operates with minimal regulation and oversight. 

But there’s a bigger, quieter question we’re not asking enough: Why are we in such a rush? We’ve been conditioned to believe that faster is always better. Any delay is wasted time, and convenience is a virtue.

Companies like CLEAR are capitalizing on this mindset by promising to shave five or ten minutes off your airport wait, but not everything in life needs to be expedited.

There’s a psychological and even philosophical case for waiting. To wait is to practice patience, humility and equality. It’s a moment of shared humanity where people of different backgrounds and means are subject to the same process. Waiting reminds us that time is not always something to be conquered or compressed. Sometimes, it just is.

The problem is that late capitalism has pathologized slowness. Everything must be faster: shipping, scrolling, streaming, shopping. But, speed has a cost. It flattens nuance, undermines the process and, in the case of CLEAR, sacrifices security for style. 

More importantly, when convenience becomes a commodity, those without the means to buy it are pushed further to the margins.

So, no, we shouldn’t applaud CLEAR for its “innovation.” We should question the premise it sells: that waiting is a problem, public space should serve private interests, and safety is negotiable if you’re rich enough to skip the line.