This book takes up where Gregory F. Treverton's previous Reshaping National Intelligence for an Age of Information (2001) left off. It provides an opportunity for the author to discuss the consequences of the greater public importance enjoyed by intelligence and his belief that the shift to terrorism and other transnational threats as the preeminent targets runs deeper than is realized (p. vii). The book begins with a description of where intelligence was during the Cold War period, but “its purpose is to describe where intelligence needs to go” (p. 1). The main themes are the change in the nature of the risk (suicide bombers cannot be deterred as states could), the great expansion in the number of consumers of intelligence in both the public and private sectors, and the problem of “boundaries” between law and intelligence, home and abroad, public and private.

The change in targets for intelligence is “dramatic,” if “hardly absolute” (p. 15). Whereas most of Cold War intelligence was puzzle-solving when uncertainty was the product of secrecy, now much more is concerned with mysteries. Even intelligence about contemporary states involves more mystery, but it is nonstate targets that pose the real problem. Organized crime and drug trafficking are not new, but the primary significance of “terrorism” is. For this, the United States has no “story”—where the terrorists are, how they are organized, and so on. The author sees the new complexities as “mysteries-plus” (p. 33) and, given both the increased uncertainty and need for prevention, intelligence becomes more significant in developing policy. Treverton describes a spectrum of threats, from those “with threateners” to those without (e.g., pestilence), and he notes the problem of knowing whether some things derive from human action or not. It would be useful to consider further the implications of risk analysis for intelligence (cf. Paul Bracken, Ian Bremmer and David Gordon, eds., Managing Strategic Surprise, 2008). The problems of the “mysteries-plus” to which Treverton refers are akin to those in health and environmental policy where the “precautionary principle” has been developed because traditional risk analysis is inadequate, but it also poses more danger of policy overreaction.

September 11, 2001, exposed some crucial organizational barriers within the U.S. government. It is noted that the poor cooperation between FBI and CIA prior to 9/11 reflected the wishes of the people that police and intelligence power be separated: capturing and prosecuting criminals was the central FBI purpose pre-9/11, and the only information that mattered to agents was what was relevant to the criminal investigation at hand. The FBI was headquarters phobic and radically decentralized—special agents in charge (SACs) were “barons” and, within national intelligence, the collection and analysis “stovepipes” also constituted “baronies” (p. 58), enjoying great budgetary and operational autonomy. These boundaries set up the United States to fail on 9/11 and continue to do so in the campaign against terrorism. The need for analysis by problem or issue has been acknowledged and is reflected in the Terrorism Prevention and Intelligence Reform Act of 2004, for example, in the idea of fusion centers, but these have been so resisted by agencies that there are only two in areas in which CIA-dominated centers had already existed—counterterrorism and counterproliferation.

The first of these, the National Counterterrorism Center (NCTC), is intended to develop intelligence, coordinate planning, and then hand execution to the agencies. But it is involved in a continuing turf battle with the CIA's counterterrorism center (CTC), and the author notes the need for a sea change in attitude if centers are to be seen as other than distractions from the real work in agencies (p. 93). He notes that counterterrorism not only “bridges” the FBI missions of law enforcement and counterintelligence but also has much in common with operations against organized crime and drugs trafficking (p. 69). However, it seems to this European reviewer that the implications are not pursued far enough in the overall analysis. The history of state and local policing in the United States contains a wealth of experience with the development of “domestic security intelligence.” Now, much of this was to be deplored (for example, the use of “Red Squads”), but the experience in developing criminal intelligence in the last 50 years is arguably of greater relevance to contemporary counterterrorism than is traditional CIA foreign intelligence. For example, “fusion centers” of some sort for criminal intelligence are to be found throughout the United States at the regional level, and while their success is variable, their experience would inform current debates more than is often recognized by scholars of national intelligence. If intelligence officers are still reluctant to think and write about what is happening at home (p. 170), then they could probably benefit from talking with those who have been doing it for years.

After 9/11, the other big “failure” contemplated is the misdiagnosis of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, which, for the author, shows the dramatic need for reforming intelligence analysis. Now, it should be noted that 9/11 and Iraq are very different failures, but the very good point is made that “learning lessons” from studying celebrated cases may lead to wrong conclusions. Rather, learning lessons in intelligence should be a continuous (Bayesian) process, although, given postpublication events, illustrating this argument by reference to Toyota was an unfortunate choice! Clearly, Cold War styles of analysis are no longer appropriate, and the author joins the long list of those contemplating the necessary changes (e.g., Roger George and James Bruce, eds., Analyzing Intelligence, 2008). It is suggested that agencies must become learning organizations, but the breadth of the epistemological, methodological, and organizational changes contemplated may leave analysts either bemused or paralyzed at a time when “customers” want quick answers to immediate problems.

There is still debate, of course, as to whether the Iraq case was more of a political than an intelligence failure. The varieties of politicization and the basic conundrum of how to avoid it without condemning intelligence to irrelevance are considered, and there is a very neat summary of the differences between analysts and politicians (p. 170). But, looking ahead, the broader issue of the proliferating number of consumers for intelligence will pose yet greater difficulties to conventional ways of thinking and acting. The need to incorporate state and local authorities and the private sector into functioning intelligence networks presents major challenges.

Finally, the book considers the consequences of the “broken contract” between intelligence and the American people, reminding the author of when he started working in the field with the Church Committee in the 1970s. September 11, Iraq, Abu Ghraib, “black sites,” and torture are the indicators of this current crisis in intelligence just as it becomes a key player in a “long war” against terrorism. Unprecedentedly for the United States, this involves increased surveillance at home, and the author notes the danger that security measures may cause more pain than gain. This puts a premium on effective oversight and accountability, but “unfortunately, the process of congressional oversight of intelligence, including covert action, so carefully crafted in the 1970s, is now regarded as something of a joke in Washington” (p. 232). So, it is not just the organization and effectiveness of U.S. intelligence that is broken; it is oversight as well.

In comparison with much of the post-9/11 literature on “fixing” U.S. intelligence, this is a thoughtful review, and the author's final sentiment that he fears “us” more than the terrorists follows logically from his argument. It is an invaluable perspective on an issue where fear has too often trumped analysis.