Alex Deane, editor of Big Brother Watch, is not happy with the government's plans to enhance digital surveillance powers.
As you no doubt know by now, the securocrats want to monitor every phone call made, every email sent and every website accessed by everyone in the country. They seem not to realise that 1984 was meant to be a warning, not a "how to" guide.
Extraordinarily (and crassly), some have sought to use the Soham murders as justification for these plans. I do not object to targeted, warranted surveillance of named individuals (which would include access to phone or internet records). But what is proposed is the opposite of that kind of sensible surveillance – it’s surveillance of all of us, all the time, just in case – treating us all like prospective Huntleys, blunting real investigative capabilities rather than sharpening them, instead of using existing powers to target those who are real threats. After all, sad though it is to say it, in the Soham case there had been several police investigations into allegations of sexual crimes by Ian Huntley. Those responsible had enough powers and enough data: they nevertheless failed to prevent his crimes or catch him in time. They failed because of human error – not lack of information.
I have deep qualms about the construction of a database like this by the state, per se. I fear that it effectively reverses the presumption of innocence, treating us all as if we’re guilty until “proven” by the data to be “innocent” (and the smart terrorists and paedophiles will find ways around these systems, ensuring that it really is the law-abiding who suffer most). But even if these plans might be acceptable, it currently lacks the proper caveats to make it so. Any such scheme should be limited to terrorism and a closed list of specified, serious crimes. Access to data should be confined to the intelligence agencies and police, and subject to a warrant approved by a judge (this wouldn’t hamper the police: no judge would have refused a warrant in the Soham case). None of these things are currently the case with the government’s plans.
Lest we forget, the last government tried to introduce these proposals, and were rightly laughed out of the court of public opinion – by, inter alia, the two parties now in the government reintroducing them. Dominic Raab MP has told of how in 2008 or 2009 (so during the dark, authoritarian days of the Blair/Brown era) Home Office security officials showed him a chart claiming that if these plans did not go ahead, UK surveillance capability would be fatally undermined. But as we all know, that government was refused these draconian capabilities: despite lacking these “vital” state powers, we have a lower terrorist threat level now than we did then, when told “we’re all doomed” without them. The same claims of “necessity” are being claimed for today’s equally absurd “secret trials” proposal, just as they were advanced for the disgraceful attempt to introduce 90 days pre-charge detention: Pitt the Younger was onto something when he said that necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom.
Consider the most obvious precedent: Tony Blair’s “vital” terrorism surveillance powers. Supposedly balanced and proportionate, in practice they’ve been abused and misused on a systemic basis. Under them, our phone calls and emails are already monitored right now by more than the police and intelligence agencies: 10,000 requests for personal data are made each week. Nevertheless, annual convictions under terrorism legislation have fallen by 100 per cent – i.e. to zero (from 31) – in the last four years, notwithstanding all the extra powers Blair and co gave our spooks – because the powers they have aren’t being used with any sense. Rather than Orwellian surveillance, old-fashioned intelligence-led policing is the answer. Whilst the state plans to monitor every innocent citizen, we still have a ban on the use of intercept evidence in court – that is to say, the use of already existing, targeted data, obtained by warranted surveillance, is forbidden, but rather than suggesting a change to that (which would see useful data deployed in a specified environment, i.e. a court, with proper checks and balances) the state wants to accumulate new powers to watch all of us. The new proposals would extend ubiquitous state surveillance to BlackBerrys, instant messaging, texting, web-browsing, internet-based email, Skype, Facebook and even online games. Having accumulated this monstrous mountain of personal information, data-mining techniques will then supposedly detect trends that might give the authorities a lead. But when you generate a larger haystack, it makes the pin much harder to find. Not only is the system a gigantic hurling of national resources against a diaphanous wall; once built, it leads to further waste (and subsequently risk to genuine victims and investigations) because of the wild-goose chases to which it inevitably leads, exposing innocent people to false accusations and criminal investigation in the process. This is to say nothing of the hacking and fraud to which those on the database (i.e. everyone) will be subject, since, as we all know, the government does data retention and security about as well as the Pope does Mecca tours.
There’s a huge “slippery slope” problem, too. Once this data is accumulated, different branches of government will wish to use it. Attempts won’t come in the first days of its existence of course, but, over time, our bureaucratic machine will seek to exploit this invaluable and unprecedented data set. It will begin with requests that are hard to resist – for example, combing it to catch benefit cheats and tax fraudsters, auto-searching for keywords indicating high spending, matched against claimants and low HMRC payments, or activities suggesting physical exertion matched against the register of disability claimants. And on it goes. It starts with “vital for your security” which is, in itself, untrue – but, via “Minister, since we have this data, wouldn’t it be useful if…” it will become ever-greater surveillance of us all, as a norm. We face a brave new world, and we’ve got to decide what kind of country we want to live in. This kind of monitoring might well reduce crime – but so would a curfew, or banning alcohol. We have to find a balance – and this policy is an unprecedented acquisition of power by the state out of all proportion to the threat it allegedly seeks to solve.
If you’re interested in this debate, check out Big Brother Watch, containing essays by contributors such as Tony Benn, David Davis and Damian Green – as pertinent now as when it was published and, in light of the most recent proposals, perhaps rather farsighted.