Border Crowds Could Soon Face a ‘HEAT RAY’

Border agents escort a group near a tall fence and a patrol van
Photo: David Peinado Romero / Shutterstock

When a military crowd-control technology crosses into civilian border enforcement, the decisive question is not whether the paperwork exists; it is whether the institutions charged with using it can show necessity, safety, legality, and accountability before the tool takes root through routine use.

The Short Version

  • The Pentagon authorized a seven-month loan of one Active Denial System (ADS) to DHS, framed as testing and tactics development, not automatic deployment.
  • DHS—not military personnel—was assigned responsibility for operation and procedures, signaling a civilian law-enforcement posture for any use.
  • The ADS emits millimeter-wave energy that induces intense heat on the skin to compel movement; prior incidents and medical critiques focus on burn and eye/face risk under extended or mismanaged exposure.
  • Earlier DHS leadership rejected ADS for border use in 2018 amid legality, sovereignty, and morality concerns; those unresolved questions remain central today.

What was actually authorized — and why that framing matters

According to reporting on a Defense Department memorandum signed by Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, DHS received a time-limited loan of one ADS unit to test and develop tactics, techniques, and procedures for potential border use; the authorization explicitly states the system will not be operated by military personnel and places operational responsibility on DHS. This structure matters: it situates ADS as a possible addition to a civilian use-of-force continuum rather than a military tool wielded by uniformed troops at the border. At the same time, the memo does not disclose a testing location, operating conditions, or specific safeguards. In other words, the government has established permission and custody but not the public architecture of necessity and oversight.

The authorization also contemplates a post-loan path: DHS may request continued use after the seven-month period if justified by operational need. That clause is not mere housekeeping. In practice, time-bounded pilots often become ramps to normalization unless rigorous evaluation—comparative effectiveness, injury profiles, costs, operator burden—says otherwise.

How the Active Denial System works

ADS projects a focused beam of millimeter-wave electromagnetic energy, rapidly heating water molecules in the top fraction of a millimeter of human skin; the effect is an intense, instantly aversive heat sensation that compels people to move out of the beam path. U.S. military descriptions liken the feeling to opening a hot oven, scaled to a pain response that ends when exposure ends. Reported effective range extends out to roughly a kilometer-class engagement, allowing operators to disperse or channel groups at distance without physical contact. The engineering promise is clear: directional, quickly terminated, and—under controlled exposure—intended to avoid deep-tissue injury.

That promise, however, turns on control. Dose (power density), dwell time, targeting precision, and environmental context determine outcomes. Prior documentation cites at least two incidents of second-degree burns (a 1999 laboratory accident and a 2007 training exposure), underscoring that miscalibration, operator error, or equipment fault can convert “non-lethal” into clinically significant injury. Physicians for Human Rights has warned that less-protected areas—eyes and face—are especially vulnerable if exposure is prolonged or misdirected. A technology that relies on tight exposure windows demands exacting doctrine and supervision to remain within its intended envelope.

The unresolved issues: necessity, law, sovereignty, and risk

Even supporters of non-lethal tools concede that necessity must be demonstrated, not assumed. The available reporting identifies no disclosed DHS operational assessment specifying the gap ADS would fill relative to existing options such as barriers, warnings, negotiated dispersal, vehicles, chemical irritants, or less-injurious munitions. Without a comparative evaluation, “new” risks displacing “known” ones is a policy bet rather than a measured upgrade. Former DHS officials have noted that in 2018 Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen declined to pursue ADS at the border, citing concerns about treating migrants and U.S. citizens like enemy combatants; broader reservations about legality, effectiveness, and morality accompanied that decision. Those are not rhetorical objections; they map to concrete thresholds an agency must cross before fielding a pain-compliance beam against mixed civilian populations.

Risk is not limited to burns. Officials and critics have flagged scenario-driven hazards: if used near water, sudden panic and flight could push people into currents, creating drowning risk and burdening rescuers; if used along a line that straddles the international boundary, beam propagation raises sovereignty questions for exposures occurring in Mexico. These are not inherent disqualifiers—the same concerns attend acoustic devices or chemical irritants—but they demand pre-committed geographic rules, abort criteria, environmental limits (wind, terrain, surface conditions), and real-time supervision before any field test touches a live population.

Who holds the keys: civilian control and accountability

The memo’s insistence that DHS—not the Department of Defense—operate the system is an accountability choice as much as a legal one: civilian law enforcement must own the doctrine, training, and after-action reviews if ADS is ever used in a border context. That ownership needs visible machinery. Which DHS component commands the device? What qualification standards, live-fire rehearsals, and medical protocols certify an operator and supervisor? What camera and telemetry logs backstop each activation? Which independent entities review every discharge for compliance and harm? Absent answers, the government has authority without auditable responsibility, which is the recipe by which mistrust metastasizes.

There is, to be fair, a countervailing record in defense circles: years of military human-effects research, and legal reviews that have called ADS a “model non-lethal” program with minimal injury risk under controlled conditions. Bridging that lab and range confidence into a civilian, mixed-population environment is the challenge. It can be done if the institution is willing to publish exposure limits, prohibited targeting zones (eyes/face), environmental constraints, medical standby requirements, and red-team safety testing—before, not after, first contact.

Learning from the 1033 pattern: how technologies migrate and why discipline is essential

America has a well-worn pattern for how military capabilities seep into domestic enforcement: administrative authorizations arrive first; doctrine, transparency, and independent evaluation trail by months or years. The Pentagon’s 1033 program is the canonical case; by one analysis, nearly 88% of counties received surplus military equipment between 2006 and 2014, with research associating transfers with higher rates of civilian fatalities from police shootings—even as other scholars debate data quality and causality. The lesson is not that every transfer is harmful, but that tools shape tactics and risk profiles in ways institutions often underestimate at adoption. If ADS moves forward, the counter-pattern must apply: evidence and constraints first, operationalization second.

What a credible test would look like

An expert-governed evaluation would proceed in four layers. First, publish the loan memorandum and annexes, including safety envelopes, operator prohibitions, and approval chains. Second, run controlled, independently monitored human-factors trials using the actual field configuration, documenting exposure thresholds, error bars, and fail-safes, with particular focus on eyes and face risk and on medically vulnerable populations. Third, stage scenario exercises that compare ADS with existing tools on key metrics: dispersal effectiveness, time-to-resolution, injuries, escalation rates, and total personnel required. Fourth, codify a transparent accountability regime—named command responsibility, activation logs with retained telemetry, body-worn video, automatic after-action reviews, and independent oversight with authority to suspend use pending investigation. Only then should any live-environment pilot be considered, and never in proximity to watercourses or terrain that could convert panic into physical peril.

The bottom line

The Defense Department has authorized DHS to explore whether a directed-energy pain-compliance tool can be integrated into civilian border enforcement. That is all. The authorization neither proves the technology’s necessity nor resolves the most salient concerns: injury mechanisms under real conditions, sovereignty and legal thresholds, and the credibility of civilian oversight. The onus is now squarely on DHS to shift the debate from memos to evidence—comparative, medical, and operational—or to stand down. Introducing a new kind of force is easy; earning the public’s confidence that it will be used rarely, proportionally, and safely is the real work.

Sources:

military.com, cnn.com, stripes.com, thedailybeast.com, axios.com, businessinsider.com, dhs.gov, gcsu.edu