Tag: Fourth Amendment

Drug-Sniffing Dogs Are Sense-Enhancing Technology

The Supreme Court heard oral argument yesterday in Florida v. Jardines, a case that examined whether bringing a drug-sniffing dog to the front door of a home looking for drugs was a Fourth Amendment search.

Having attended the oral argument (transcript; audio forthcoming), my sense is that a majority on the Court thinks dog-sniffs at front doors (absent a warrant) go too far. But few of the justices know why. The one who does is Justice Kagan.

What rationale might the Court use to decide the case? Even after United States v. Jones threw open Fourth Amendment doctrine, the instinct for using “reasonable expectation of privacy” analysis is strong. (I’ve joked that many lawyers think the word “privacy” can’t be uttered without the prefix “reasonable expectation of.”) This is where much of the discussion focused, and Justice Breyer seemed the most firmly committed to its use.

But the insufficiency of “reasonable expectation” doctrine for providing a decision rule was apparent when Breyer teed up Jardines’s counsel to knock the case out of the park. There was much discussion of what one reasonably expects at the front door of a home. Neighbors may come up. Trick-or-treaters may come up. Neighbors may come up with their dogs. The police may come to the door for a “knock and talk.” Neighbors, trick-or-treaters, dogs, and police officers may all come up and discover odors coming from the house. What makes the drug-sniffing dog unexpected?, Justice Breyer asked:

Do in fact policemen, like other people, come up and breathe? Yes. Do we expect it? Yes, we expect people to come up and breathe. But do we expect them to do what happened here? And at that point, I get into the question: What happened here?

Joelis Jardines’s counsel could not say what made the dog unexpected.

Perhaps property law draws the line that excludes government agents with drug-sniffing dogs, while allowing other visitors to come to the door. Not so. Justice Alito in particular pressed Jardines’s counsel for any case that had excluded dogs (drug-sniffing or otherwise) from the implied consent one gives to visitors on the walk and at the front door. The argument is unavailing, this idea that Florida’s property law (put into play by the majority holding in Jones, which relied on property rights) solve this case. Florida property law doesn’t exclude dogs from the implied permission it gives to lawful visitors on residential property.

None of this is to say that the government had it easy. Florida’s counsel had uttered just three sentences when Justice Kennedy informed him that the rule from Illinois v. Caballes would not carry the day. In Caballes, the Court found there to be no search at all when government agents walked a drug-sniffing dog around a car stopped for other reasons. (I attacked what I called the “Jacobsen/Caballes corollary” to the Katz decision in the Cato Institute’s brief to the Court, and also in this Jurist commentary.)

It won’t be the rule from Caballes. So what is the rationale that decides this case?

Justice Scalia was on the scent when he reasoned with the government’s counsel about what might be done with binoculars.

“As I understand the law,” he said, “the police are entitled to use binoculars to look into the house if—if the residents leave the blinds open, right?”

Florida’s counsel agreed.

“But if they can’t see clearly enough from a distance, they’re not entitled to go onto the curtilage of the house, inside the gate, and use the binoculars from that vantage point, are they?”

“They’re not, Your Honor.”

“Why isn’t it the same thing with the dog?”

Justice Kagan knows that it is. And she used Justice Scalia’s reasoning in Kyllo v. United States, the precedent that is on all fours with this case.

She recited from Kyllo: “ ‘We think that obtaining by sense-enhancing technology any information regarding the interior of the home that could not otherwise have been obtained without physical intrusion into a constitutionally protected area constitutes a search, at least where, as here, the technology in question is not in general public use.’” And she asked Florida’s counsel, “[W]hat part of that language does not apply in this case?”

“Franky’s nose is not technology,” he replied, referring to the dog. “It’s—he’s using—he’s availing himself of God-given senses in the way that dogs have helped mankind for centuries.”

The existence of dogs in human society for centuries might help the government if dogs had been used for drug-detection all this time. And then only if the question was what it is reasonable to expect.

What matters is that a drug-sniffing dog is indeed a form of sense-enhancing technology. Selected for its strong sense of smell, and trained to convey when particular odors are present, a drug-sniffing dog makes perceptible to law enforcement what is otherwise imperceptible.

And that is the very definition of searching. At least as Black’s Law Dictionary has it: “‘Search’ consists of looking for or seeking out that which is otherwise concealed from view.”

Police officers use dogs to search for drugs and other materials in which they are interested but which they cannot see by themselves. A drug-sniffing dog is a cuddly chromatograph.

And just now, quietly, you have seen at work the rationale that the Supreme Court should use to decide Florida v. Jardines. Was it a search to bring a drug-sniffing dog to the front door of a house? The Court should apply the plain meaning of the word “search” to the facts of the case that has come before it. There’s no need for doctrine at all.

The Fourth Amendment in the Supreme Court This Week

Prior to the development of trade and commerce, movable property was “not esteemed of so high a nature, nor paid so much regard to by the law,” Blackstone tells us in his commentaries on the laws of England. Such property in transit was routinely confiscated by authorities or tariffed at exorbitant rates.

When commercial relations expanded, the quantity and value of personal property increased, and the law “learned to conceive different ideas of it.” Legal protection for movable property increased.

In parallel to the growth of commerce in movables centuries ago, commerce in information is on the rise today. It may be time to “conceive different ideas of it” as well—different ideas that accord information similar protection. This is what a group of amici have encouraged the Supreme Court to do in a brief on an important privacy case being argued this week.

In Clapper v. Amnesty International, the Gun Owners Foundation, Gun Owners of America, Inc., the U.S. Justice Foundation, the Downsize D.C. Foundation, DownsizeDC.org, and the Conservative Legal Defense and Education Fund have argued that the Court should recognize a property interest in confidential communications. Doing so would more clearly establish the standing of the respondents in this case to challenge the global wiretapping program Congress established in the FISA Amendments Act of 2008.

William J. Olson, lead counsel on the brief, articulated the issues well in an email distributing it:

Our amicus brief in the Clapper case extrapolates from the court’s holding in Jones and identifies the property interests at stake in this case as confidential communications that are critical to the practice of law and of the enterprise of journalism. Using a property analysis, the citizens in Clapper have a protectable property interest in their electronic communications as they do in their written communications. Thus, even though plaintiffs are not “targeted” by the Government, the Government’s contention that their search and seizure of plaintiffs’ communications is only “incidental” is unavailing.

Jones v. United States, of course, is the case decided in January, in which government agents tracked a suspect’s car for four weeks using a GPS device without a valid warrant. The Supreme Court found unanimously that this violated the Fourth Amendment. My article in the most recent Cato Supreme Court Review (2011-12) analyzes the case, and you can get a taste of that analysis in the most recent Cato Policy Report (September/October 2012).

I also discussed the Fourth Amendment status of communications in the Cato Institute’s brief in Florida v. Jardines, which is also being argued in the Supreme Court this week. The Court found Fourth Amendment protection for postal mail in an 1877 case, but stumbled when faced with the next iteration of communications technology.

In the year this Court decided Ex Parte Jackson, both Western Union and the Bell Company began establishing voice telephone services. Gerald W. Brock, The Second Information Revolution 28 (Harvard University Press, 2003). Now, instead of written messages in the post, representations of the human voice itself began moving across distance, at light speed, in a way few people understood. This is the technology this Court confronted in Olmstead v. United States, 277 U.S. 438 (1928).

The Court handled this technological development poorly. Chief Justice William Taft fixed woodenly on the material things listed in the Fourth Amendment’s search and seizure clause. Wiretapping had not affected any of the defendants’ tangible possessions, he found, so it had not affected their Fourth Amendment rights. Olmstead, 277 U.S. at 464. In dissent Justice Butler noted how “contracts between telephone companies and users contemplate the private use” of telephone facilities. “The communications belong to the parties between whom they pass,” he said. Olmstead, 277 U.S. at 487 (Butler, J., dissenting). Cf. Ex Parte Jackson, 96 U.S. 727 (1877) (“Letters and sealed packages … are as fully guarded from examination and inspection … as if they were retained by the parties forwarding them in their own domiciles.”).

Florida v. Jardines is not a communications case. The issue is whether the sniff of a trained narcotics-detection dog at the front door of a house is a Fourth Amendment search requiring probable cause. Cato’s brief invites the Court to dispense with the unworkable “reasonable expectation of privacy” test, using the plain meaning of “search” instead.

Black’s law dictionary defines “search” as “looking for or seeking out that which is otherwise concealed from view.” Smells that only trained dogs can detect are indeed otherwise concealed from humans.

Familiar though ordinary pet dogs are, a trained dog is a chromatograph. The Court should follow the Fourth Amendment’s language and precedents like Kyllo v. United States to find that a drug-dog’s sniff is a search.

A companion to Jardines, Florida v. Harris, is being argued the same day. That case will examine the sufficiency of drug-dogs as evidence of wrongdoing, an issue that has not received careful examination in the past.

So it’s a big week for the Fourth Amendment in the Supreme Court. Stay tuned for developments.

E-Mail Privacy Laws Don’t Actually Protect Modern E-mail, Court Rules

In case further proof were needed that we’re long overdue for an update of our digital privacy laws, the South Carolina Supreme Court has just ruled that e-mails stored remotely by a provider like Yahoo! or Gmail are not communications in “electronic storage” for the purposes of the Stored Communications Act, and therefore not entitled to the heightened protections of that statute.

There are, fortunately, other statutes barring unauthorized access to people’s accounts, and one appellate court has ruled that e-mail is at least sometimes protected from government intrusion by the Fourth Amendment, independently of what any statute says. But given the variety of different types of electronic communication services that exist in 2012, nobody should feel too confident that the courts will be prepared to generalize that logic. It is depressingly easy, for example, to imagine a court ruling that users of a service like Gmail, whose letters will be scanned by Google’s computers to automatically deliver tailored advertisements, have therefore waived the “reasonable expectation of privacy” that confers Fourth Amendment protection. Indeed, the Justice Department has consistently opposed proposals to clearly require a warrant for scrutinizing electronic communications, arguing that it should often be able to snoop through citizens’ digital correspondence based on a mere subpoena or a showing of “relevance” to a court.

The critical passage at issue in this case—which involves private rather than governmental snooping—is the definition of “electronic storage,” which covers “temporary, intermediate storage of a wire or electronic communication incidental to the electronic transmission thereof” as well as “any storage of such communication by an electronic communication service for the purposes of backup protection of such communication.” The justices all agreed that the e-mails were not in “temporary, intermediate” storage because the legitimate recipient had already read them. They also agreed—though for a variety of reasons—that the e-mails were not in “backup” storage.

Some took this view on the grounds that storage “by an electronic communication service for the purposes of backup protection” encompasses only separate backups created by the  provider for their own purposes, and not copies merely left remotely stored in the user’s inbox. This strikes me as a somewhat artificial distinction: why do the providers create backups? Well, to ensure that they can make the data available to the end user in the event of a crash. The copy is kept for the user’s ultimate benefit either way. One apparent consequence of this view is that it would make a big difference if read e-mails were automatically “deleted” and moved to a “backup” folder, even though this would be an essentially cosmetic alteration to the interface.

Others argued that a “backup” presumed the existence of another, primary copy and noted there was no evidence the user had “downloaded” and retained copies of the e-mails in question. This view rests on a simple technical confusion. If you have read your Gmail on your home computer or mobile device, then of course a copy of that e-mail has been downloaded to your device—otherwise you couldn’t be reading it. This is obscured by the way we usually talk: we say we’re reading something “on Google’s website”—as though we’ve somehow traveled on the Web to visit another location where we’re viewing the information. But this is, of course, just a figure of speech: what you’re actually reading is a copy of the data from the remote server, now residing on your own device. Moreover, it can’t be necessary for the user to retain that copy, since that would rather defeat the purpose of making a “backup,” which is to guarantee that you still have access to your data after it has been deleted from your main device! The only time you actually need a backup is when you don’t still retain a copy of the data elsewhere.

Still, this isn’t really the court’s fault. Whether or not this interpretation makes sense, it at least arguably does reflect what Congress intended when the Stored Communications Act was passed back in 1986, when there was no such thing as Webmail, when storage space was expensive, and when everyone assumed e-mail would generally vanish from the user’s remote inbox upon download. The real problem is that we’ve got electronic privacy laws that date to 1986, and as a result makes all sorts of distinctions that are nonsensical in the modern context of routine cloud storage. Legislation to drag the statute into the 21st century has been introduced, but alas, there’s little indication Congress is in much of a rush to get it passed.

The Fourth Amendment Doesn’t Allow Roving Licenses to Detain People Without Probable Cause

This blogpost was co-authored by Cato legal associate David Scott.

Searches and seizures have long been held to be unreasonable under the Fourth Amendment unless supported by probable cause. There are only a few narrow exceptions to that probable cause requirement.

The Supreme Court found one such exception in the 1981 case of Michigan v. Summers, which gave police a limited authority to detain the occupants of premises that were lawfully being searched. The Court justified this limited detention by invoking the need for officers to have “unquestioned command” of the premises and prevent flight should incriminating evidence be found, thus “minimizing the risk of harm to the officers” and facilitating “the orderly completion of the search.”

In 2005, police officers were preparing to execute a search warrant on a home in Wyandanch, New York, when they witnessed Chunon Bailey—who was unaware of the search warrant or its pending execution—exit the home and begin to drive away. Officers followed and subsequently stopped Bailey, detaining him about a mile from the premises to be searched. The government contends that Bailey’s detention was proper pursuant to Summers.

The district court agreed and the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit affirmed, holding that the interests expounded in Summers justify the detention of a prior occupant of the premises to be searched so long as the detention is made “as soon as practicable” after identifying “an individual in the process of leaving the premises.” The Supreme Court agreed to review the case and Cato has now joined the ACLU and the New York Civil Liberties Union in filing an amicus brief urging the Court to reverse the Second Circuit.

Our argument is three-fold. First, the Second Circuit’s extension of Summers lacks any limiting principles to the power to detain without probable cause. Without an outer limit, the Summers exception would be applicable to any number of situations in which detention without probable cause is unreasonable. A warrant to search a particular place would be transformed into a roving license to detain any person thought to be associated with that place.

Second, the Second Circuit’s attempt to establish a limiting principle by requiring the detention to occur “as soon as practicable” is insufficient because it has no principled basis and is inconsistent with the underlying values of the Fourth Amendment. Furthermore, the “as soon as practicable” standard provides no clear guidance to officers as to when a detention is permissible.

Finally, the extension of Summers here is unnecessary to ensure that officers maintain “unquestioned command” of the premises during a search: The detention of an individual away from the premises to be searched has nothing to do with police “command” of the premises, but is instead merely a means of holding someone pending the speculative emergence of probable cause.

The Supreme Court will hear argument in Bailey v. United States on October 30.

All Your Records Are Belong to U.S.

Twice in the last month, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals has affirmed that the government can access records about you held by third parties without getting a warrant. It’s a nice illustration of the broad and deep reach of the “third party doctrine.”

U.S. v. Golden Valley Electric Association is the more recent of the two. In that case, the government delivered an administrative subpoena to a member-owned electricity cooperative asking for quite a bit of information about three residences it served:

customer information including full name, address, telephone number, and any account information for customer; method of payment (credit card, debit card, cash, check) with card number and account information; to include power consumption records and date(s) service was initiated and terminated for the period 10-01-2009 through 12-14-2010…

Golden Valley resisted the subpoena on a number of bases, including by arguing that criminal investigations require a warrant.

The court rejected the Fourth Amendment argument because the customer of a business like Golden Valley “lacks ‘a reasonable expectation of privacy in an item,’ like a business record, ‘in which he has no possessory or ownership interest.’” That’s the third-party doctrine: The government can access your electricity usage records and billing information without implicating the Fourth Amendment.

In mid-July, a different panel of the Ninth Circuit concluded the same thing about hotel records.

Los Angeles Municipal Code section 41.49 requires hotel operators to maintain information about their guests,

including name and address; total number of guests; make, type and license number of the guest’s vehicle if parked on hotel premises; date and time of arrival; scheduled date of departure; room number; rate charged and collected; method of payment; and the name of the hotel employee who checked the guest in.

These records must be held for 90 days and made available for inspection by any officers of the Los Angeles Police Department.

The owners of motels in Los Angeles challenged the law as a facial violation of the Fourth Amendment. The court rejected that argument, finding that the information the ordinance makes available to law enforcement “does not, on its face, appear confidential or ‘private’ from the perspective of the hotel operator.” For their part, hotel guests do not have a “reasonable expectation of privacy in guest registry information once they have provided it to the hotel operator.”

This is another unremarkable application of the third party doctrine, which says that people do not have Fourth Amendment rights against unreasonable search and seizure with respect to information they have shared with others.

Last January, in her concurrence to the Supreme Court’s ruling in U.S. v. Jones, Justice Sotomayor questioned the “third party doctrine” (as Justice Alito had done during oral argument).

[I]t may be necessary to reconsider the premise that an individual has no reasonable expectation of privacy in information voluntarily disclosed to third parties. This approach is ill suited to the digital age, in which people reveal a great deal of information about themselves to third parties in the course of carrying out mundane tasks. People disclose the phone numbers that they dial or text to their cellular providers; the URLs that they visit and the e-mail addresses with which they correspond to their Internet service providers; and the books, groceries, and medications they purchase to online retailers.

It is not a slam dunk that utility and hotel records should be Fourth-Amendment protected, requiring probable cause and a warrant before law enforcement can access them. But if electric providers and hoteliers maintain information in confidence due to contractual or regulatory obligations, that should extend the protection of the Fourth Amendment to what I think of as the digital effects created by modern living. This is not so much because of the sensitivities around electricity use or lodging, but because this is the rule we need to secure the much more sensitive data we routinely share and store with third parties online.

Fourth Amendment Gone to the Dogs—and to Lasers?!

For all their use by law enforcement across the country, drug-sniffing dogs haven’t gotten a lot of consideration in the Supreme Court. In a pair of cases next fall, though, the Court seems likely to give them some attention. Florida v. Harris is one of the cases it has taken. Harris will examine “[w]hether an alert by a well-trained narcotics detection dog certified to detect illegal contraband is insufficient to establish probable cause for the search of a vehicle.”

This week, we filed an amicus brief in the other drug-sniffing dog case, coming out of the same state. Florida v. Jardines asks whether the Fourth Amendment would be implicated if the government brought a drug-sniffing dog to the front door of your home seeking the scent of illegality.

What the Court has done with drug-sniffing dogs so far is not very good. We homed in on the major precedent, Caballes, to illustrate the weakness of the “reasonable expectation of privacy” test that originated in United States v. Katz (1967).

In Illinois v. Caballes, 543 U.S. 405 (2005), this Court did not apply Katz analysis. It did not examine (or even assume) whether Roy Caballes had exhibited a subjective expectation of privacy, the first step in the Katz test. Thus, the Court could not take the second step, examining its objective reasonableness.

Instead, the Caballes Court skipped forward to a corollary of the Katz test that the Court had drawn in United States v. Jacobsen, 466 U.S. 109 (1984): “Official conduct that does not ‘compromise any legitimate interest in privacy’ is not a search subject to the Fourth Amendment.” Caballes, 543 U.S. at 408 (quoting Jacobsen, 466 U.S. at 123).

This is a logical extension of the Katz test, and one that helps reveal its weakness in maintaining the Fourth Amendment’s protections consistently over time. Now, instead of examining whether searches and seizures are reasonable, courts applying the Jacobsen/Caballes corollary can uphold any activity of government agents sufficiently tailored to discovering only crime.

What kinds of activities might those include? We talked about lasers.

A DHS program that might be directed not only at persons, but also at their houses and effects, is called the “Remote Vapor Inspection System” (or RVIS). RVIS “generates laser beams at various frequencies” to be aimed at a “target vapor.” Beams “reflected and scattered back to the sensor head” reveal “spectral ‘signatures’” that can be compared with the signatures of sought-after gasses and particulates. [citations omitted] Using RVIS, government agents might remotely examine the molecular content of the air in houses and cars, quietly and routinely explore the gasses exiting houses through chimneys and air ducts, and perhaps even silently inspect any person’s exhaled breath. If RVIS technology is programmed to indicate only on substances that indicate wrongdoing, the Jacobsen/Caballes corollary extinguishes the idea that its pervasive, frequent, and secret use would be a search.

If a dog sniff only reveals illegal activity, compromising no privacy interest, it’s not a search. So using lasers to check your breath for illegal substances is not a search either. We hope, obviously, that the Court will do away with this rule, which is so attenuated from both the language and the purpose of the Fourth Amendment.

Instead of determining whether a person has “reasonable expectations of privacy”—we called that doctrine a “jumble of puzzles”—courts should examine whether a “search” has occurred by seeing if police accessed something that was hidden from view.

When a person has used physics and law to conceal something from others, the Fourth Amendment and the Court should back those privacy-protective arrangements, breaching them only when there is probable cause and a warrant (or some exception to the warrant requirement).

To hold otherwise would be to allow the government to invade privacy not just using drug-sniffing dogs but using ever more sophisticated technology.