Tag: privacy

Big Brother Wants to Watch You Drive

In 2008, the Washington legislature passed a law mandating a 50 percent reduction in per capita driving by 2050. California and Oregon laws or regulations have similar but somewhat less draconian targets.

The Obama administration wants to mandate that all new cars come equipped with vehicle-to-infrastructure communications, so the car can send signals to and receive messages from street lights and other infrastructure.

Now the California Air Resources Board is considering regulations requiring that all cars monitor their owners’ driving habits, including but not limited to how many miles they drive, how much fuel they use, and how much pollution or greenhouse gases they emit.

Put these all together and you have a system in which the government will not only know where your vehicle is at all times, but can turn off your vehicle if it decides you are driving too much or driving in a way that emits too many grams of carbon dioxide or is otherwise offensive to some bureaucratic imperative.

I sometimes think privacy advocates are a paranoid bunch, seeing men in black around every corner and surveillance helicopters or drones in the air at all times. On the other hand, if a technology is available–such as the ability to record cell phone calls–the government has proven it will use it.

Consider all of the lovable progressives out there who think the government should “punish climate change liars,” meaning people who have differing opinions on scientific issues. It’s not much a stretch to think that, any time they happen to be in power, they will use the available technology to make people stop driving. After all, just how important can that extra trip to the supermarket be compared to the absolute imperative of preventing the seas from rising a quadrillionth of an inch?

Of course, the elected officials and bureaucrats who run this system will exempt themselves from the rules. After all, nothing is more important than their work of running the country and making sure people don’t abuse their freedom by engaging in too much mobility.

As California writer Steven Greenhut points out, we already have red-light cameras, and some “eastern states have suspended drivers from using toll lanes after their transponders showed them to be speeders.” They’re not invading our privacy, the greens will argue, they are just making sure that our actions aren’t harming Mother Earth.

Of course, for many it really isn’t about greenhouse gas emissions. Mobility allows (or, as anti-auto groups would say, forces) people to living in low-density “sprawl” where they can escape taxation by cities eager to subsidize stadiums, convention centers, and light-rail lines. All they have to do is ramp down people’s monthly driving rations–something like a cap-and-trade system that steadily reduces the caps–and suburbanites will eventually find that they have to move back to the cities.

No doubt some will argue that even those who drive the most fuel-efficient cars should be subject to the same driving limits because suburban homes waste energy too. Or that people will be safer from terrorists if they are all jammed together in cities close to emergency facilities than if they are spread across the countryside. Or that suburbanites are parasites on the cities and should be reassimilated back into the cities’ benign embrace and taxing districts.

Whatever the argument, the point is that if the technology is there, the government will use it. If people really want to buy cars that monitor their every move and are capable of communicating those moves to some central infrastructure, they should be allowed to do so. But allowing the government to mandate these things is simply asking to have well-meaning, and sometimes not-so-well-meaning, government bureaucrats control how we travel and where we live.

Connolly: Yes to Privacy Act Liability for Mental and Emotional Distress

A couple of years ago I wrote here about the Supreme Court case denying that a person could collect damages from the government under the Privacy Act based on mental and emotional distress. It’s a narrow point, but an important one, because the harm privacy invasions produce is often only mental and emotional distress. If such injuries aren’t recognized, the Privacy Act doesn’t offer much of a remedy.

Many privacy advocates have sought to bloat privacy regulation by lowering the “harm” bar. They argue that the creation of a privacy risk is a harm or that worrisome information practices are harmful. But I think harm rises above doing things someone might find “worrisome.” Harm can occur, as I think it may have in this case, when one’s (hidden) HIV status and thus sexual orientation is revealed. It’s shown by proving emotional distress to a judge or jury.

Rep. Gerry Connolly (D-VA) has introduced the fix for the Supreme Court’s overly narrow interpretation of the Privacy Act. His Safeguarding Individual Privacy Against Government Invasion Act of 2014 would allow for non-pecuniary damages—that is, mental and emotional distress—in Privacy Act cases.

It’s a simple fix to a contained problem in federal privacy legislation. It’s passage would not only close a gap in the statute. It would help channel the privacy discussion in the right way, toward real harms, which include provable mental and emotional distress.

Riley and Wurie: Beyond “Get a Warrant”

As Ilya noted earlier, the Supreme Court struck a blow for privacy and the Fourth Amendment today. It ruled that a warrant is generally required when law enforcement officers want to search a cell phone they have seized. Justice Roberts’ opinion for a unanimous court provides some crisp language:

Modern cell phones are not just another technological convenience. With all they contain and all they may reveal, they hold for many Americans “the privacies of life.” (citation omitted) The fact that technology now allows an individual to carry such information in his hand does not make the information any less worthy of the protection for which the Founders fought. Our answer to the question of what police must do before searching a cell phone seized incident to an arrest is accordingly simple—get a warrant.

In this case, we pretty well knew we were going to get a win. So let’s set aside the trumpets and talk about the margin of victory. Did we get improvements in Fourth Amendment doctrine that will bolster privacy protection in cases to come? Only a little.

OK, let’s trumpet the case a bit. This is a unanimous case with a bright-line rule. It’s about the best outcome you could hope for in Riley and Wurie themselves (argued separately, decided together), and it’s a great vindication of the constitutional status of cell phones and our data on them.

Chief Justice Roberts seems to have brought the Court together on this one (save a niggling Alito concurrence) to produce a strong opinion that doesn’t show gaps among the justices. (They may all have felt a need to huddle, avoiding an open fight or the tipping of hands on the NSA spying controversy, for example.)

And on the major privacy controversy of the day, the Court did not tip its hand. It distinguished Smith v. Maryland, the case the government uses to justify gathering records about every U.S. phone. Smith held that using a pen register to gather phone calling information was not a search. “There is no dispute here that the officers engaged in a search of Wurie’s cell phone,” Chief Justice Roberts wrote, punting for the Court in this case based on the consensus among parties.

The errant decision in Smith relied on the “reasonable expectation of privacy” test arising from the 1967 case, Katz v. United States. The very good news from this decision is that the Court once again declined to use the Katz test in resolving a Fourth Amendment issue, as our briefs invited the Court to do (or not to do, as it were). Instead, the Court implicitly found that there were searches in both cases and that those searches were of persons, houses, papers, or effects. Then it examined the reasonableness of searching cell phones.

That’s important because it means that the Court is interpreting the Fourth Amendment more like a law and not as the stack of doctrines that I’ve previously called a “jumble of puzzles.”

June’s Cato Unbound: The Snowden Files, One Year Later

This month at Cato Unbound, we’re discussing Edward Snowden’s NSA revelations.

We mostly know the story, but it bears repeating: One year ago this week, Glenn Greenwald wrote a news story that would change the world forever. In it, we learned that the National Security Agency had been secretly collecting enormous amounts of telephone metadata on what were presumably ordinary American citizens. The agency had done so without a warrant and without suspicion of any indiviudal person. The revelation changed forever how Americans think about national security, privacy, and civil liberties in the digital age.

More revelations soon followed. Among many others, these included NSA surveillance of web activitymobile phone location data, and the content of email and text messages. The NSA also conducted many highly embarrassing acts of surveillance against allied or benign world leaders, including German Chancellor Angela Merkel and the conclave that recently elected Pope FrancisIt had subverted commonly used encryption systems. It had co-opted numerous tech companies in its plans. Its leaders had repeatedly lied to, or at the very least misled, the U.S. Congress

How far should surveillance go? What has been the value of the information gained? What have we given up in the process? What are the risks, should malign actors ever get their hands on the controls of the system?

We are able to ask these questions today because of one individual: Edward Snowden, a systems administrator for the NSA who chose to make public the information to which he had access. We have no choice now but to debate it. That’s simply what democracies do whenever such momentous information becomes public.

Joining us at Cato Unbound this month are four individuals with extensive knowledge in the fields of national security and civil liberties: Cato Senior Fellow Julian Sanchez, Brookings Institution Senior Fellow Benjamin Wittes, Georgetown University Professor Carrie F. Cordero, and independent journalist Marcy Wheeler. Each brings a somewhat different perspective on the matters at hand, and we welcome them all to what is sure to be a vigorous debate.

The Fourth Amendment: Cars, Phones, and Keys?

Here’s a law-school hypothetical for you: Suppose a gang-banger is pulled over for having expired tags on his car. He has no driver’s license, and records show that he has repeatedly driven without a license. The protocol in such situations is to impound the car to prevent him from driving unlicensed again, and the impoundment search reveals that he has guns hidden in the car. He is arrested, patted down, and his possessions seized to secure officer safety during his transportation and booking.

Now suppose that police officers take the gang-banger’s car out of the impound yard and drive it around looking for his confederates and for more evidence against him. Can they use the car for this purpose?

If you’re like most people, you probably think the answer is: “No.” But can you say why?

Theory: The Supreme Court Could Apply the Terms of the Fourth Amendment in Fourth Amendment Cases

The Supreme Court could apply the terms of the Fourth Amendment in Fourth Amendment cases.

I know. Weird idea, right?

But it’s an idea I’ve pushed in briefs to the Court over the last few years: in U.S. v. Jones (2011), Jardines v. Florida (2012), In re Electronic Privacy Information Center (2013), and most recently in Riley v. California (2014). We’ll file in U.S. v. Wurie next week.

The idea is interesting enough that Mason Clutter of the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers has paid me the compliment of discussing it in her new law review article, “Dogs, Drones, and Defendants: The Fourth Amendment in the Digital Age.”

Jim Harper, director of information policy studies at the Cato Institute and one of the authors of Cato’s amicus brief in Jardines, regularly makes the argument that “[a] ‘search’ occurs when government agents seek out that which is otherwise concealed from view, the opposite condition from what pertains when something is in ‘plain view.’ People maintain ‘privacy’ by keeping things out of others’ view, exercising control over personal information using physics and law.” The “Harper Theory” of search and seizure encourages judges, lawyers, and law enforcement officers to revert to the “plain meaning[]” of the Fourth Amendment’s use of “search” and “seizure.”

That’s right. The idea of using the words of the Fourth Amendment rather than stacks of confusing doctrine now has a name, and it’s the “Harper theory.” I guess I thought of it, so it’s named after me!

In seriousness, it is a challenge to recognize seizures and searches as such in “high-tech” contexts. Today’s problems with the Fourth Amendment—and the problem of doctrine obfuscating the text—began in 1929, when the Olmstead Court failed to recognize parallels between that era’s high-tech—telephonic communications—and written material sent through the mail.

But it is possible to recognize electronic and digital documents and communications as papers and effects. It is possible to recognize seizures when invasions of property rights occur in whatever form. And it is possible to recognize searches as efforts to discover information that is otherwise concealed from view. All this makes it possible to apply the words of the Fourth Amendment in Fourth Amendment cases.

I’m complimented if that’s called the “Harper theory.” I feel like I got it from Cardozo.

NSA Spying and a National ID Are Peas in a Pod and You Should Eat Your Peas

That’s the upshot of a column by Froma Harrop appearing in the Seattle Times.

“Arguments leveled against Real ID are being recycled to bash the National Security Agency’s surveillance program,” she writes. “They inevitably lead to the assumption that the government is up to no good.”

Well, … yes.

The argument against creating a U.S. national ID is that its cost in dollars and privacy are greater than the tiny margin of security they might provide. Over years, I’ve pointed out that spending billions of dollars to herd law-abiding Americans into a national ID system might mildly inconvenience any terrorists. It’s not worth doing.

That idea—that security measures should be cost-effective—is wisely ‘recycled’ for use with respect to the NSA’s program to gather data about every call made in the United States. Doing so doesn’t provide a margin of security worth the cost in dollars, privacy, and menace to liberty.

When the government wastes our money, privacy, and liberty on programs that don’t provide a sufficient margin of security, that is bad. That is government “up to no good.”

The states asked to implement our national ID law rejected it because, in the disorganized way our federal republic makes decisions, it was decided that REAL ID does not pass muster. (Some states and national ID advocate groups continue to press forward with it, a subject on which I’ll say more soon.)

In a similarly messy process, the organs of democracy are finding that the NSA’s programs—originally constructed and conducted in secrecy—do not pass muster either. We’re rightly pushing this plate of peas away.