Axios AM: 9/11 at 20 years

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Twenty years after 9/11, U.S. counterterrorism strategy relies more on drones in the air than boots on the ground.

Why it matters: The days of a massive military presence to battle international terrorists are over. President Biden now plans to combat terror groups in Afghanistan from "over the horizon," and warns that the threat has "metastasized" beyond Afghanistan and al-Qaeda.

Now the fight is focused on monitoring and striking a broader range of terrorist groups from a distance.

Michael Morell, former acting director of the CIA, told Axios: "We've learned in the last 20 years that ... huge armies on the ground are actually a bad idea because they incentivize people to join terrorist groups."

Instead, the focus is on providing partners on the ground in places like Syria or Africa's Sahel region with drones, air support and intelligence, says Gen. David Petraeus, who led U.S. Central Command and the CIA.

That's insufficient to truly eliminate the threat, Petraeus says, but it can be sustained over years or even decades if costs and U.S. casualties are limited. 

Biden has recommitted the U.S. to those efforts in places like Somalia, even as he ended the "forever war" in Afghanistan.

The catch: A successful remote approach requires precise intelligence and allies on the ground. And when it comes to Afghanistan, the Taliban's takeover may draw the U.S. back into uncharted waters.

In every country where the U.S. has used components of an over-the-horizon counterterrorism strategy, it has had some semblance of an intelligence network, partner on the ground and air base nearby, says Seth Jones, director of the International Security Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies.

State of play: In Afghanistan, the abandonment of U.S. bases and the evacuation of CIA sources have decimated U.S. intelligence capabilities, and the country is now run by a long-term foe.

Biden's over-the-horizon strategy will require sending drones from the Gulf, over Pakistan — assuming the Pakistanis consent — and into Afghanistan.

"Well over 50% of the flight time" could be used just getting to and from Afghanistan, Petraeus says. "We won't be able to maintain anywhere near the same number of unblinking eyes over Afghanistan as we did in the past without considerably more aircraft."

An over-the-horizon strike in Kabul on Aug. 29 — to prevent what the administration described as an imminent ISIS attack — reportedly left 10 civilians dead, including seven children. A New York Times investigation suggested drone operators mistook water canisters carried by an Afghan aid worker for explosives.

"The less intelligence help you have on the ground, the more likely you are to make a mistake and kill innocent people," says Ben Friedman, policy director of Defense Priorities, a think tank emphasizing "realism and restraint."

But many experts are more optimistic, citing the massive investment the U.S. has made in overhead surveillance since 9/11.

"My biggest concern is not that the intelligence community and DoD won't be able to figure this out," says Morell, who hosts CBS News' "Intelligence Matters" podcast.

"My biggest concern is whether they're going to have the resources and the focus to do this work given the new emphasis on our peer competitors," particularly China.

What we're watching: Critics contend that the 9/11 attacks gave rise to 20 years of overestimating the global threat of jihadi terrorism — while allowing adversaries, including China, to catch up to the U.S. as successive administrations spent trillions prosecuting the war on terror.

"When people are trying to kill you — literally trying to kill you — it's hard not to put most of your focus there," Morell says. "Maybe even more focus than you should."

1. Counterterrorism goes remote

The next phase will address a broader range of hot spots, with fewer American boots on the ground.

Photo illustration of an American soldier looking through binoculars with images of the destroyed Twin Towers in the background

Photo illustration: Sarah Grillo/Axios. Photos: Wakil Kohsar, Chris Hondros/Getty Images

September 11

Afghanistan

Twenty years after 9/11, U.S. counterterrorism strategy relies more on drones in the air than boots on the ground.Why it matters: The days of a massive military presence to battle international terrorists are over. President Biden now plans to combat terror groups in Afghanistan from &quot;over the horizon,&quot; and warns that the threat has &quot;metastasized&quot; beyond Afghanistan and al-Qaeda.

President Biden has made the COVID-19 crisis and a post-Trump return to national unity and traditional democratic ideals his top priorities. From vaccinations to stimulus to schools, Biden is seeking bipartisan compromise while showing a willingness to use executive authority and bare Democratic majorities in the U.S. House and Senate to implement his policies. Republican leaders are navigating deep party divisions over if and how to move beyond former President Trump.

Politics & Policy

China is becoming the most formidable rival America has faced, and the risk of confrontation with Russia, North Korea or Iran still looms. Authoritarians are rising, the chaotic Afghanistan exit revealed the limits of U.S. power, and the pandemic, climate change and other critical challenges continue to pose grave threats.

The next major international terrorist assault on the U.S. is likely to take the form of a cyberattack, or at least include a cyber component, experts predict.

The big picture: The 9/11 attack had little in the way of a significant digital dimension. But today, the digital realm offers perfect terrain for the kind of asymmetric warfare terrorists pursue.

How it works: Cyberattacks typically lack the spectacular kinetic impact of planes hitting skyscrapers, and to date they've never taken the kind of toll in life and limb that 9/11 did.

But they're highly effective at instilling the kind of fear, confusion and overreaction that terrorists seek to spark. 

They're still a novelty to most of the public.  

They're hard to understand, difficult to track and easy to disavow.

All that makes them an ideal weapon for the disruption of everyday life.

Remember the trouble caused earlier this year when one ransomware attack shut down a gas pipeline — and then imagine something similar happening on a much broader scale.

Yes, but: No cyberattack is going to match the visceral horror of a bomb blast. That's why many expert observers expect that cyberwarfare won't be the whole game for future terrorists, but one of their key tactics.

Digital attacks are likely to accompany more traditional assaults, working as a  "force multiplier" to confuse survivors, hamper rescue efforts and spread distrust.

Think of cell service and first responder communications networks failing at the moment they're most needed, or real-time disinformation campaigns fraudulently laying blame on innocent parties.

The bottom line: If these scenarios are accurate, we'll look back at the past year's cyber incidents involving pipelines, meat distribution facilities and government agencies and realize how dramatically that damage pales in comparison. 

2. Next time, it could be a cyberattack

They're highly effective at instilling the kind of fear, confusion and over-reaction that terrorists seek to spark.

Photo illustration collage of hands typing on a laptop over an aerial scene of the World Trade Center after the September 11th attacks

Photo Illustration: Annelise Capossela. Photo: Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group via Getty Images

The next major international terrorist assault on the U.S. is likely to take the form of a cyberattack, or at least include a cyber component, experts predict.The big picture: The 9/11 attack had little in the way of a significant digital dimension. But today, the digital realm offers perfect terrain for the kind of asymmetric warfare terrorists pursue.

From the Valley to D.C., Big Tech players like Facebook, Google and Amazon are under more scrutiny than ever as new technology develops and privacy and antitrust concerns grow in lockstep with companies’ ambitions.

Technology

Two decades later, we don't have to look hard to find changes in our lives that happened because of 9/11, from air travel headaches to fear-driven politics that still disrupts many Americans' lives.

Here we've identified the biggest changes that had a lasting impact — or foreshadowed broader social dilemmas we're grappling with today, like the vulnerabilities of the internet and our attitudes toward privacy.

War powers: The 2001 Authorization for Use of Military Force was so broad that it has been used by four American presidents to justify military operations around the world, Axios' Zach Basu reports.

It allows the president to use force against anyone "he determines" was involved in 9/11 — a sweeping, vague authorization meant to help the U.S. "prevent any future acts of international terrorism" against the homeland.

While this initially applied to al-Qaeda and the Taliban in Afghanistan, the law's blank-check language has been cited for operations in Iraq, Yemen, Somalia, Libya, Syria, Niger, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Kenya and the Philippines, as well as the indefinite detention of prisoners at Guantánamo Bay.

And the full extent of the law's global reach is not even publicly known: The list of countries where the U.S. is waging the war on terror under the 2001 AUMF is classified, according to a statement from the White House in April.

"The authority that has been delegated to the president, we absolutely have to return it to Congress’ portfolio," Rep. Peter Meijer (R-Mich.), an Iraq War veteran, told Axios' Alayna Treene. Meijer flew to Kabul a week before the United States' planned withdrawal. 

Air travel: 9/11 changed, perhaps most obviously, the entire experience of air travel, Axios executive editor Sara Kehaulani Goo writes.

The attacks created a crisis of confidence, not only in our leaders' ability to imagine the threat at home, but in our ability to feel safe again. The U.S. government created two new agencies (the Department of Homeland Security and the Transportation Security Administration), spent billions on screening equipment, and instituted new security procedures at airports that have been copied at major public events and schools around the country.

9/11 also changed the roles of what we expect from private sector employees. Pilots could carry guns in the cockpit. Flight attendants got more training on how to deal with unruly passengers. Air marshals were secretly assigned to flights.

New rules required airlines to collect more information from each passenger, including date of birth and full name, to check against terrorism "watch list" databases, which flagged thousands of innocent travelers.

Privacy: The attacks increased our willingness to give up some privacy to make air travel — and many other transactions — more convenient, Sara also reports.

Private companies found that Americans were willing to pay hundreds of dollars and give up some privacy — a face scan, a fingerprint, personal details — for the ability to skip more time-consuming screening of their bags and clothing at checkpoints.

Even the TSA created a "pre-check" program, collecting fees and offering separate lines for travelers who gave up personal information in exchange for a faster line.

Security: Cities became less open, Axios' Jennifer Kingson writes.

No longer can anyone walk into an office building in New York City (and many other places) and take the elevator up to any floor. We must show a license or other ID, sometimes have a photo taken, sign a register, and have our host put us on a list or call down to a guard.

Urban surveillance systems, which were already marching forward, intensified and proliferated more quickly than they might have if the terror attacks hadn't happened.

Tech: The internet of 2021 was born in the ashes of 2001, Axios managing editor Scott Rosenberg writes.

When the Twin Towers fell, the first news of the disaster was posted online by a theater blogger named James Marino, who'd watched the mayhem on the skyline from his office in a Broadway high-rise and posted about it at 8:56 a.m. (The AP had its own story a minute earlier, but most news sites hadn't gotten it up yet.)

Today's internet moves at a different scale and pace, but the online aftermath of 9/11 exposed, in embryo, every one of the vulnerabilities we've grown to understand since: the rise of conspiracy theories, political polarization and online echo chambers; the spread of hate speech; and the diminishing potency of facts.

Racial profiling: The attacks drew focus to the way law enforcement profiles Arab Americans and Muslim Americans and the discrimination they face, Axios' Russell Contreras reports. 

The Patriot Act and the way innocent Arab Americans and Muslim Americans experienced harsh questioning at airports, ports of entry and in public places drew scrutiny in the years following the attacks and foreshadowed the current reckoning with the nation's systemic racism.

Immigration: The politics of immigration permanently changed after the attacks, Russell also writes.

Before Sept. 11, the Bush administration was pushing a massive immigration reform bill that could have offered a pathway for citizenship for millions of undocumented immigrants. After the attacks, the federal government turned to stricter policies along the U.S.-Mexico border out of fear that potential terrorists would use it to enter the U.S.

Mexican and Central American immigrants, once hailed in early 2001 as builders of the U.S. economy, experienced demonization, and politicians used them as scapegoats during elections.

Health care: While it's clear that the U.S. was woefully unprepared for the pandemic, there was a flurry of funding in the years after 9/11 — and the anthrax attacks that immediately followed — that could have made us more prepared for COVID had the funding been sustained, Axios' Tina Reed reports.

There was a flurry of investment in public health in the years immediately following — including spending on hospitals aimed at increasing preparedness training and supplies — although that money quickly dried up as interest in 9/11 waned.

In 2007, in addition to vaccines against bioterrorism threats, the Department of Health and Human Services awarded more than $3 billion to support pandemic preparedness.

Increased concern around the threat of bioterrorism led to the creation of the National Biodefense Analysis and Countermeasures Center, the National Bioforensic Analysis Center, and the first bioattack warning system known as BioWatch and later Project Bioshield.

3. What's changed in 20 years

The lasting impacts of the worst terrorist attacks on U.S. soil.

Photo illustration of hands holding a smart phone and pen over a textured background.

Photo illustration: Shoshana Gordon/Axios. Photos:  Andrea Nieto, Susana Gonzalez, Mario Tama/Getty Images

Two decades later, we don&#x27;t have to look hard to find changes in our lives that happened because of 9/11, from air travel headaches to fear-driven politics that still disrupts many Americans&#x27; lives.<ul><li>Here we&#x27;ve identified the biggest changes that had a lasting impact — or foreshadowed broader social dilemmas we&#x27;re grappling with today, like the vulnerabilities of the internet and our attitudes toward privacy.</li></ul>

Tens of thousands of Afghans have arrived in the U.S. over the last several weeks, but President Biden needs Congress' help to provide them needed care and expedited immigration pathways. 

Why it matters: These refugees will be one of the lasting legacies of 9/11 and the 20-year war in Afghanistan that ended with America's withdrawal last month. 

Now, the administration and a network of refugee groups are scrambling to help Afghans still trying to get out, who were caught up in a slow, outdated immigration system.

The rapid fall of Kabul and a cumbersome Special Immigrant Visa process left behind most Afghans who assisted the U.S. military in a country now controlled by the Taliban.

Meanwhile, former President Trump's deliberate slowdown of the U.S. refugee resettlement program, plus legal and logistical hurdles, make it difficult to get care and benefits to tens of thousands of Afghans who have already arrived.

What to watch: The administration expects 65,000 Afghans to have arrived by the end of September, plus as many as 30,000 more over the course of the fiscal year beginning Oct. 1. That's on top of other Afghans who may be resettled as formal refugees after fleeing to third countries, which is a separate process.

Many Afghans are being let into the country using a "parole" designation, which quickly allows them to live in the U.S. but comes with none of the benefits that are provided to resettled refugees or asylum recipients. 

This week the administration asked Congress to create new pathways to citizenship, options for providing refugee-like benefits to these Afghans, and $6.4 billion in emergency funds.

In the meantime, non-governmental resettlement agencies have been asked by the federal government to help.

Without congressional action, "there's no obvious source of money to help assist the parolees who are coming in," Refugees International president Eric Schwartz told reporters on Wednesday. 

The State Department has managed to provide some resources for groups for the first 90 days, which amount to $2,275 per refugee.

But some agencies usually spend an average of $5,000-$7,000 on each refugee they help resettle, Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service president Krish O'Mara Vignarajah told Axios. 

Don't forget: Trump drastically cut the number of refugees resettled in the U.S. That forced the closure of more than 100 offices for refugee resettlement, O'Mara Vignarajah said. 

And the Department of Health and Human Services agency that typically provides funds for resettling refugees has also been dealing with significantly higher numbers of migrant kids crossing the U.S.-Mexico border.

What's they're saying: For all of the logistical troubles, several refugee advocates who spoke with Axios were effusive about the support they've received from Americans.

"I've never seen the outpouring of support we've experienced in the last couple weeks," said O'Mara Vignarajah, citing more than 43,000 volunteers who signed up in two weeks. "To me, that is America at its best."

4. The new 9/11 legacy: Afghanistan’s refugee crisis

The Biden administration and refugee groups are scrambling to help tens of thousands of Afghans.

Photo illustration of an Afghan family with masking tape and torn paper.

Photo illustration: Shoshana Gordon/Axios. Photo: Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images

Immigration

Tens of thousands of Afghans have arrived in the U.S. over the last several weeks, but President Biden needs Congress&#x27; help to provide them needed care and expedited immigration pathways. Why it matters: These refugees will be one of the lasting legacies of 9/11 and the 20-year war in Afghanistan that ended with America&#x27;s withdrawal last month.

Rep. Mike Gallagher was a high school senior when the Twin Towers were hit. For Rep. Elissa Slotkin, it was her second day as a grad student at Columbia University. Rep. Jason Crow was a National Guardsman but would soon switch to active duty. 

The big picture: Twenty years after the 9/11 attacks prompted a generation of Americans to serve their country — on the front lines in Afghanistan and Iraq or as civilian advisers or intelligence officials — dozens now hold seats in Congress, and more are signing up to run in next year's midterms.

Why it matters: The U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan has put many of these leaders in the spotlight in recent weeks. They're reminding Americans of their unique role — just as veterans of World War II and Vietnam shaped the discourse around U.S. foreign policy, national security, defense spending and human rights in the decades following their service.

By the numbers: There are 91 U.S. veterans now serving in Congress. Of these, at least 36 served in Afghanistan and Iraq — 27 are Republicans and 9 are Democrats, according to a review of members' congressional biographies.

Some already were serving in the military before 9/11 and went on to serve in Afghanistan and Iraq, while others signed up in the weeks, months and years after 9/11. 

Other lawmakers also were called to serve in different ways, including Slotkin (D-Mich.), who served in the CIA, and Rep. Andy Kim (D-N.J.), who served as a civilian adviser to two generals in Afghanistan. 

At least 11 Iraq and Afghanistan veterans not currently in Congress are running for the U.S. Senate in 2022 — along with at least 33 seeking House seats — and those tallies may continue to grow.

The majority are Republicans, with some facing off in primaries, such as J.D. Vance and Josh Mandel in Ohio. Sam Brown, a Republican Senate candidate in Nevada, was seriously wounded by an IED blast in Afghanistan in 2008. Years of rehabilitation followed.

Between the lines: The members of Congress who served in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan said that those experiences have shaped the way they legislate and given them empathy for those on the front lines who are directly affected by their decisions. 

What they're saying: “When I'm sitting there in those committee hearings, or we're having these debates, they're not theoretical to me. I just think back to my time as Private Crow, how those decisions flow all the way down to those privates. There's a very real impact on their lives,” said Crow, a Colorado Democrat.

Crow has used his position to push to repeal the authorizations to use military force. “As of 9/11, we’ve become a country of perpetual conflict,” he said. 

Rep. Peter Meijer (R-Mich.): “Veterans and those who have spent time in conflict zones understand that what the government does and what the government doesn't do, that lives hang in the balance. It's critical to make sure that that's reflected.”

Gallagher, a Wisconsin Republican, recalls how his call to service came a year and a half after 9/11, with the invasion of Iraq. He says his focus has now turned to a different national security threat as a result of his experience in counterterrorism in the Middle East.

"We avoided a massive terrorist attack domestically,” he said about the Jan. 6 attacks. “But we tend to ignore a different threat, which is that posed by China." 

Slotkin spoke about how the 9/11 attacks had a unifying effect on her view of Congress: "If we're not trying to get to a better place, if we're not trying to find common ground with other people, what is the point of being a member of Congress?"

"I think that those of us in the 9/11 generation, we're going to fight for that country that we believe in. We're not at our best right now, but it's certainly not the end of the story.” 

5. Post-9/11 veterans bring their voices to Congress

The U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan has put many of these leaders in the spotlight.

Photo illustration of Rep. Elissa Slotkin, Rep. Mike Gallagher, and Rep. Jason Crow

Photo illustration: Sarah Grillo/Axios. Photos: Bill Clark/CQ Roll Call, Inc via Getty Images

Rep. Mike Gallagher was a high school senior when the Twin Towers were hit. For Rep. Elissa Slotkin, it was her second day as a grad student at Columbia University. Rep. Jason Crow was a National Guardsman but would soon switch to active duty. The big picture: Twenty years after the 9/11 attacks prompted a generation of Americans to serve their country — on the front lines in Afghanistan and Iraq or as civilian advisers or intelligence officials — dozens now hold seats in Congress, and more are signing up to run in next year&#x27;s midterms.

Dallas

Axios Dallas

In the weeks after the Sept. 11 attacks, a white supremacist in Dallas named Mark Stroman went on a violent spree he said was for revenge, killing two men and shooting a third, Bangladeshi immigrant Rais Bhuiyan, in the face.

What happened: Bhuiyan forgave Stroman, who was sentenced to death for the crimes, and has since dedicated his life to ending hate — even unsuccessfully suing the state of Texas in an attempt to stop the execution.

Bhuiyan had the chance to talk to Stroman on the phone the day he was executed. He told Stroman he forgave him and did not hate him.

Stroman thanked Bhuiyan for his efforts and told him he loved him. 

Since then, Bhuiyan has started a nonprofit called World Without Hate, dedicated to preventing and disrupting hate and violence through empathy and storytelling.

Bhuiyan thinks about the day he was shot every day. He still has 33 shotgun pellets in his face. And he remains blind in his right eye. 

What he's saying: "Seeing the level of hate and intolerance and discrimination in this country is a constant reminder that what Mark did to me did not end there. It’s a constant reminder of what happened to me," Bhuiyan told Axios. 

"The only place I feel safe in America is once I pass the security checkpoint in an airport. When I go to the grocery store, I know someone could walk in with an AR-15."

State of play: He says he’s seen improvement over the last 20 years, but believes there were setbacks in 2016 when then-candidate Donald Trump promised a ban on Muslim immigration.

"He energized a lot of Americans who have nothing to do with Muslims. He added more fuel to fear and to violence, and afterward things got worse."

"I ask people to please treat everyone as humans first, regardless of who they are, where they came from, who they love, who they worship."

"Stand up against human suffering regardless of the victims. Do not pick and choose. The problems persist in our society because we do not stand up for each other."

"Once you get to know the other, it’s hard for you to hate them. I was unknown to my attacker, but after 9/11 I was labeled a terrorist, as a threat to this country. Muslims and Islam was labeled as a threat, as violent, as something to be afraid of."

What's next: Bhuiyan has worked with Rep. Eddie Bernice Johnson (D-Texas), who is sponsoring a resolution to honor victims of post-9/11 hate crimes. A similar resolution failed in 2015, but Bhuiyan hopes this year — the 20th anniversary — will be different. 

"Every year when the country remembers 9/11," he says, "many of us go into hiding."

Sign up for the Axios Dallas newsletter, launching in October, to get smarter, faster on the most consequential news unfolding in your own backyard.

6. Defeating the politics of fear

"Once you get to know the other, it’s hard for you to hate them."

Photo illustration of a collage featuring Rais Bhuiyan, an American flag, and a piece of masking tape over paper textures.

Photo illustration: Brendan Lynch/Axios. Photos: Leigh Vogel and Richard Pruitt/Getty Images

In the weeks after the Sept. 11 attacks, a white supremacist in Dallas named Mark Stroman went on a violent spree he said was for revenge, killing two men and shooting a third, Bangladeshi immigrant Rais Bhuiyan, in the face.What happened: Bhuiyan forgave Stroman, who was sentenced to death for the crimes, and has since dedicated his life to ending hate — even unsuccessfully <a class="gtmContentClick" data-vars-link-text="suing the state of Texas" data-vars-click-url="https://www.dmagazine.com/publications/d-magazine/2011/october/how-rais-bhuiyan-forgave-the-man-who-shot-him-in-the-face/" data-vars-content-id="b530a401-b534-4215-be7b-18e99caa613f" data-vars-headline="Defeating the politics of fear" data-vars-event-category="story" data-vars-sub-category="story" data-vars-item="in_content_link" href="https://www.dmagazine.com/publications/d-magazine/2011/october/how-rais-bhuiyan-forgave-the-man-who-shot-him-in-the-face/" target="_blank">suing the state of Texas</a> in an attempt to stop the execution.

In the days after the Sept. 11 attacks, Kevin Tuerff found himself stranded along with other airline passengers in Gander, a town on an island of Newfoundland, and never forgot the kindness that the people of the town showed him.  

For the 20th anniversary, his 9/11-inspired organization, Pay It Forward, wants people to perform 20,000 "random acts of kindness." But given how divided America has become since 2001, he's also pushing Americans to achieve another goal: Break out of their silos and do the good deeds for people they'd never meet otherwise.

"A lot of people say, 'Well, I'm compassionate to people who work in my building, or people who belong to my political party, or people who live in my neighborhood, but I can't be bothered by those people, those other people,'" Tuerff said.

"What I'm encouraging people to do is, in fact, focus their 'pay it forwards' on the other — the people that are not like themselves. Maybe they don't look like you, or they don't think like you."

Tuerff isn't keeping track of how many people are signing up to do the good deeds. (They're being asked to do three, and then to ask the recipients to do their own good deeds.)

"If you can try to make these small, little breakthroughs, and then they become a ripple effect, then we can see how similar we really are as human beings."

For four days in September 2001, the people of Gander gave the stranded travelers rides to stores and provided phones to let them make calls anywhere in the world, for free. For Tuerff, it was a life-changing act of kindness.

It showed him how good deeds can break down the barriers between strangers and bring out the best in people, even in the darkest of times. The story of the air travelers has been immortalized in the musical "Come From Away," which includes a character based on him ("Kevin T.").

Those acts of generosity and kindness can still happen, he says, and Americans have stepped in to help each other out during the pandemic and during the recent hurricanes. 

"The question we should ask ourselves is, why does it take a terrorist attack, a natural disaster or a pandemic for us to be kind and compassionate to one another?"

7. Healing through good deeds

In memory of the attacks, a group is pushing people to perform 20,000 "random acts of kindness."

Photo illustration collage of archival photography from 9/11 and contemporary photography of the twin tower memorial lights. 

Photo illustration: Aïda Amer. Photos: Stan Honda/AFP via Getty Images

In the days after the Sept. 11 attacks, Kevin Tuerff found himself stranded along with other airline passengers in Gander, a town on an island of Newfoundland, and never forgot the kindness that the people of the town showed him. <ul><li>For the 20th anniversary, his 9/11-inspired organization, Pay It Forward, wants people to perform 20,000 &quot;random acts of kindness.&quot; But given how divided America has become since 2001, he&#x27;s also pushing Americans to achieve another goal: Break out of their silos and do the good deeds for people they&#x27;d never meet otherwise.</li></ul>

Next time, it could be a cyberattack

Photo illustration of the U.S. flag with a photo of the destroyed World Trade Center behind it

Photo illustration: Sarah Grillo/Axios. Photo: Porter Gifford/Corbis via Getty Images