How the globalization of fear will make us all better people.

Lately, various observers have proclaimed "the death of distance." A bit melodramatic, maybe, but it's true that, in an age of airplanes and optical fibers, the world seems pretty small. For that matter, distance has been in decline for millenniums. Ever since boats were first paddled and wagon wheels first turned, physical separation has become less and less of an obstacle to commerce and communication.

Unfortunately, distance has also become less of an obstacle to mayhem. Any vehicle that can carry merchants and merchandise can carry warriors and weapons. Germs can hitch a ride, too. The black death that ravaged Europe in the 14^th century seems to have started in Asia and followed trade routes west. In general, the march of progress has brought fresh reasons to fear what lies beyond the horizon.

As distance enters its death throes, this sort of fear will have a richer grounding than ever. New conduits of harm will flourish. The current scare about millennium-eve terrorism is just one small example.

But cheer up! The coming globalization of fear isn't entirely regrettable. It could actually make us, in a sense, better people, more sensitive to suffering around the world. The 21^st century may even witness what you could call the death--or at least the decline--of moral distance.

One big source of long-distance fear will be the Internet. The problem isn't just virus designers, privacy invaders, and other malicious hackers. The Net spreads dangerous data: how to build a conventional or nuclear bomb, a chemical or biological weapon, and where to get the ingredients. With these weapons in hand, a terrorist can use low-tech means of conquering distance--say, crossing a border with an atom bomb in a trunk or a vial of anthrax in a vest pocket.

H igher-tech transport will also be available. Already, a model-sized airplane--weighing 29 pounds, with a 9-foot wingspan--has flown across the Atlantic Ocean, steered precisely by global positioning satellites. It doesn't take great imagination to envision a poor man's cruise missile with a payload of chemical or biological weapons.

The general trend dates back at least to the invention of gunpowder: As technology advances, the growing power, compactness, and accessibility of lethal technologies mean that more people in more lands have the option of committing atrocities of greater and greater severity. But the trend is now reaching critical mass, a threshold that warrants a rethinking of America's stance toward the world.

After all, not even the most gung-ho Star Wars booster thinks that a missile shield can screen out eagle-sized airplanes or nukes in minivans. And the standard recipe for deterring aggression--assured retaliation--may work fine with states, but it's problematic with terrorists.

In the end, we may have to try a radical approach to fighting terrorism: reduce the number of people who feel alienated and aggrieved enough to become terrorists in the first place.

Obviously, this won't be easy, given the diversity of grievances and the geopolitical complexity surrounding them. Besides, to indulge specific grievances once they've become terrorist causes is to encourage terrorism. Still, there are a few things we can do.