WHEN American and British special forces freed four aid workers on June 2nd in Afghanistan, it was celebrated as an act of heroism. But such intervention is rare. Almost all kidnapping is a business and cases are dealt with in a business-like manner—using what are known as risk-management firms.

Usually run by former special forces, intelligence analysts and lawyers, these firms have a good record of bringing kidnap victims home safely if expensively (only the rich or the insured can afford the rates, which start at $3,000 per day). When Judith Tebbutt, a British social worker (pictured), was snatched in Kenya last September, one such firm negotiated her ransom, delivered by airplane in March. Mrs Tebbutt was released shortly afterwards.

When a risk-management firm is called in, its first step is usually to form a “crisis-management team” of family members and colleagues who can look after the victim's interests. The firm will establish contact with the kidnappers, often through a trusted local. Next it negotiates the ransom—a delicate business: too high an offer may signal weakness, driving up the price; too low and the gang may hurt the victim to show that it is determined to extort more. To arrive at an agreed price, which is usually a fraction of the gang's opening bid, can take months, according to Terra Firma Risk Management, which has 130 cases to its record.

On land the ransom is often delivered by car, with the trusted local following instructions found in a series of dead-letter boxes. Iraqi kidnappers will ask for cash to be dropped at a desert location, detailed at the last moment by mobile phone. At sea, ransom drops can be made by parachute from an aircraft, by small boat, or through informal money-transfer systems.

Not everyone is willing to pay. When Khalil Dale, a British veteran aid worker, was kidnapped in Pakistan, his employer, the International Committee of the Red Cross, refused to offer a ransom to his kidnappers who were suspected to be Taliban militants. Like most NGOs, the Red Cross believes that payment might set a precedent, endangering aid workers worldwide. In late April Mr Dale's body was found in an orchard close to his home in Quetta.

Governments also frown on the payment of ransoms, claiming it fuels global crime. Others add that banning ransom payments brings more attention to the root causes of the kidnap problem, particularly in Somalia.

Richard Fenning, head of Control Risks, which has 34 offices from Berlin to Bogotá, counters that bans are morally indefensible. When governments cannot protect aid workers, journalists and businesspeople, stopping their friends and loved ones from acting infringes on their liberty.

Risk-management firms profit from the kidnappers (some are said to charge a percentage of the ransom). Still, today's hostages—an estimated 3,000 worldwide—probably welcome their role, even if it puts others at risk tomorrow.