“But this is made of American metal.”

They told me this, or rather, “ça c’est fait du métal Américain” and that I could not bring it on the plane. Could someone please explain to me why my three-inch, or seventy-five-millimeter, long carabiner cannot join me on this flight? But it is made of American metal, I know, but it is also not a knife. Not a chainsaw, not a shiv, not a nail file, nor a needle; not acid or matches, not razors wrapped as gum. Is there any reason other than those words that read “made in the U.S.A” that keep this smooth, dare I say rounded, strip of metal in the hands of that guard and not on my water bottle? Oh. C’est fait du métal Américain. Perfect, parfait.