Twenty-five years have now passed since nearly three thousand people were killed in a single morning of coordinated attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a field outside Shanksville, Pennsylvania.[1] A quarter century is long enough that the day has moved from lived memory into something closer to inherited history for a large share of the country, making the discipline of remembering more important, not less. Marking this anniversary well means doing more than reciting the toll of the dead. It means being honest about what the country got right in response, what it got wrong, and what still has to be relearned before the next crisis tests whether those lessons have taken hold.

Fig. 1. 9/11: 25 Years Later Title Infographic, stock, rights free, 2026.

Minnesota holds an outsized, if underappreciated, place in that story. In August 2001, staff at a flight school in Eagan reported a foreign national named Zacarias Moussaoui who had paid cash to train on a 747 simulator and showed no interest in learning to take off or land.[2] Agents out of the FBI’s Minneapolis field office arrested him on a visa violation within days and grew convinced he was tied to a larger plot, but their repeated requests to search his laptop and belongings were slow-walked and ultimately blocked by superiors at FBI headquarters.[3] Minneapolis chief division counsel Coleen Rowley later laid out that breakdown in a detailed memo to Director Robert Mueller, arguing that headquarters’ caution, not any shortage of raw intelligence, had closed off a real chance to catch part of the plot before it happened.[4]

That episode did not end with the memo. Minnesota’s National Guard units deployed repeatedly to Afghanistan and Iraq over the two decades that followed, a burden carried disproportionately by families in Brainerd, Rochester, and the Twin Cities suburbs rather than in Washington.[5] Closer to home, Minneapolis–St. Paul International Airport served as one of the initial testing grounds for a comprehensive redesign of communication among domestic security agencies. This approach adopted the fusion-center model that expanded nationwide from the breakdown at the Minneapolis headquarters that Rowley had described.

Nowhere did daily American life change more visibly than at the airport gate, and that change has a specific legislative birthday. On November 19, 2001, just seventy days after the attacks, Congress passed and President Bush signed the Aviation and Transportation Security Act, creating the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) and federalizing a screening job that had previously been handled by low-bid private contractors working for the airlines.[6] Before that law, passengers could walk a companion straight to the gate, carry a four-inch blade on board without a second look, and clear a checkpoint without removing a single shoe or belt.[7] Within two years, TSA itself had been folded into the newly formed Department of Homeland Security (DHS), consolidating aviation, border, and disaster response functions that had previously sat in more than twenty different agencies.[8] The TSA remains one of the most visible daily reminders of September 11 a quarter century on—for better and for worse, since the same federal apparatus that closed a real vulnerability has also become a byword for security theater whenever its procedures seem to trade convenience for the appearance of safety rather than the substance of it.

The less visible but arguably more consequential shift happened not at the airport but in the nation’s surveillance law. Six weeks after the attacks, a Congress under enormous public pressure passed the USA PATRIOT Act with almost no debate, expanding the government’s ability to obtain Americans’ phone, banking, and internet records through National Security Letters that required no judge’s sign-off and came with a lifelong gag order attached.[9] The same law loosened the wall between criminal investigations and foreign intelligence gathering, letting agencies obtain wiretap-style authority under the more permissive Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act standard so long as intelligence collection was merely a significant, rather than the primary, purpose of the request.[10] Defenders argued these were narrow, sunset-limited tools needed to close exactly the kind of interagency blind spot that had let the Minneapolis warning go unheeded; critics countered that the country had traded a specific counterterrorism failure for a permanent expansion of surveillance power over ordinary citizens who were never suspected of anything. Both things can be true at once, and the country is still litigating the balance: as recently as this year, members of Congress have introduced fresh legislation aimed at reining in the surveillance authorities that trace directly back to that October 2001 law.[11]

Strip away the specific policies, and two lessons sit underneath all of it. The first is that the September 11 failure was fundamentally a failure to move information from the people who had it to the people who could act on it—the Moussaoui case in miniature.[12] Every structural reform that followed, from the creation of a Director of National Intelligence to the fusion centers built in states like Minnesota, was an attempt to fix that plumbing problem, and every one of today’s harder threats, whether foreign-directed terrorism, homegrown radicalization, or an attack on a power grid or water system, depends on that same plumbing working under pressure.

The second lesson is about restraint, and it cuts the other way. A security state built in a hurry, under maximum fear, with minimal oversight, tends to overcorrect—which is exactly what Coleen Rowley herself argued a decade later, when the whistleblower who had warned that the FBI acted too cautiously in 2001 became a public critic of a surveillance apparatus she believed had grown too unaccountable by 2013.[13] A country that measures its national security only by the threats it stops, and never by how honestly its own tools can be questioned, ends up building exactly the kind of institutional blind spot that failed Minneapolis’s field agents in the first place, just pointed in a different direction.

None of this is only a job for Congress or the intelligence community. Citizens have a real, if modest, role to play in closing the gap between vigilance and overreach, and it does not require choosing between safety and freedom. It means treating routine civic habits—reporting genuinely suspicious activity through official channels rather than staying silent or, at the other extreme, profiling neighbors based on appearance—as a serious responsibility rather than a slogan.[14] It means showing up to the parts of government that quietly decide how much power agencies get and for how long: city councils setting local police surveillance policy, state legislatures reauthorizing fusion-center funding, and the congressional committees that periodically vote on whether to renew or rein in FISA and Patriot Act-descended authorities, rather than assuming those fights are settled once and for all. It means supporting the inspectors general, journalists, and whistleblowers, in the tradition of Coleen Rowley, who make institutional failure visible in the first place, since neither a missed warning nor an unaccountable surveillance program stays fixed once the public stops paying attention.[15] And it means resisting the impulse, twenty-five years on, to treat this as settled history: the same balance between watchfulness and liberty that Minnesota’s field agents and, later, its own whistleblower were fighting over in 2001 is still being negotiated today, and it will be negotiated again the next time fear makes speed feel more urgent than accuracy. Getting that balance right, deliberately and in public view, is the clearest way to honor what was lost a quarter century ago.

Endnotes

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[1] National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States, The 9/11 Commission Report (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 2004), 311–15.

[2] U.S. Department of Justice, Office of the Inspector General, A Review of the FBI’s Handling of Intelligence Information Related to the September 11 Attacks (Washington, DC: DOJ OIG, 2004), chap. 4.

[3] Coleen Rowley, memorandum to FBI Director Robert Mueller, May 21, 2002, reproduced in Time, June 3, 2002.

[4] Elaine Shannon and Michael Weisskopf, “How the FBI Blew the Case,” Time, May 27, 2002.

[5] Minnesota National Guard, “History of Minnesota National Guard Deployments Since 2001,” accessed September 2026, https://minnesotanationalguard.ng.mil.

[6] Aviation and Transportation Security Act of 2001, Public Law 107–71, 115 Stat. 597 (November 19, 2001); Transportation Security Administration, “TSA History,” accessed September 2026, https://www.tsa.gov/history.

[7] Transportation Security Administration, “This Day in TSA History: November 19, 2001,” accessed September 2026, https://www.tsa.gov/about/employee-stories/day-tsa-history-november-19-2001.

[8] U.S. Government Accountability Office, Aviation Security: Progress Since September 11, 2001, and the Challenges Ahead, GAO-03-1150T (Washington, DC: GAO, 2003), 1–2.

[9] American Civil Liberties Union, “Surveillance Under the Patriot Act,” accessed September 2026, https://www.aclu.org/surveillance-under-the-patriot-act.

[10] Electronic Privacy Information Center, “PATRIOT Act,” accessed September 2026, https://epic.org/issues/surveillance-oversight/patriot-act/.

[11] Government Surveillance Reform Act of 2026, S. 4082, 119th Cong. (2026), https://www.congress.gov/bill/119th-congress/senate-bill/4082/text.

[12] National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States, The 9/11 Commission Report, 399–428.

[13] Coleen Rowley, “Open Letter on Civil Liberties and Security,” published remarks, 2013.

[14] U.S. Department of Homeland Security, “See Something, Say Something,” accessed September 2026, https://www.dhs.gov/see-something-say-something.

[15] National Whistleblower Center, “Coleen Rowley,” accessed September 2026, https://www.whistleblowers.org/members/coleen-rowley/.