The Transparent Society: Will Technology Force Us to Choose Between Privacy and Freedom?

by David Brin

  And some will gladly provide this expertise. An industry of “how to” manuals has arisen, catering to those seeking to learn tricks for finding out information about the other guy—or to protect their own privacy. A company called CDB Infotek compiles data from a multitude of local, state, and federal public records, adds private-sector data, and sells the sorted reports to its subscribers. Much of this information was already available at places like your local county hall of records. Anyone willing to spend enough time and energy could look such things up on their own. It is the relative ease of availability that now makes this accessibility seem chilling to some people, opening the way to casual browsing by their neighbors, or possibly would-be burglars. In response, groups such as the ACLU have set up task forces to track abuses, publishing books and providing Internet-based archives to help citizens research their rights.

  Credit Ratings

  This special kind of corporate information gathering merits a category all its own. Equifax Corporation, positioning itself to be the premier information storage, processing, and retrieval company for the twenty-first century, carries personal information on nearly every resident of the United States. Their systems include the Consumer Credit Database, motor vehicle records, and Equifax Check Services. (Recently spun-off units do research for auto and home insurance companies.) Critics complain that Equifax sells personal information as widely as possible, with few controls on dissemination, or checks on the accuracy of its data. While the press routinely reports lurid cases of erroneous records fouling up individuals’ lives through mistaken identity or unjust use of unreliable information, Equifax responds by claiming that its high overall statistical accuracy benefits the economy as a whole, helping both credit and capital flow swiftly to those who need and deserve it.

  Whether it is done by Equifax or a competitor, nearly all consumers are branded by a “score,” based on their past credit history, purportedly predicting how readily they will repay their bills. This score is used to judge mortgage, insurance, auto, department store, and small-business loans. In their supposedly color-blind impartiality, such ratings have actually been used to help quash racial and other kinds of discrimination. Yet the scorers employed by these private companies keep their methods secret, thereby making it hard to spot errors or patterns of bias. The Federal Trade Commission recently decided that it could not force the firms to disclose their methods to consumers.

  Things used to be worse. Two decades ago, before passage of the Fair Credit Reporting Act, TRW Information Systems and Services (now Experian) and other industry leaders claimed that it was essential to maintain secret records, predicting that the sky would fall if their subjects ever saw the contents of their own files. Despite such self-serving rationalizations, public ire prompted laws letting individuals peruse their credit dossiers for a small fee. Instead of predicted chaos, the result was increased accountability, accuracy, and efficiency.

  Now a new wave of suspicion, stoked by fresh horror stories, seems to be forcing movement toward the next plateau of transparency. Responding to public pressure, Equifax lately claimed a heightened devotion to protecting consumer data from errors and abuse. “Every person has the right to personal privacy consistent with the demands and requests he or she makes of business,” states a bronze plaque in corporate headquarters. “Every person is entitled to have his or her privacy safeguarded through the secure storage and careful transmission of information.”

  Yet those troubling anecdotes continue growing in number. A study of credit bureaus by Consumer Reports magazine found that half of all files examined held some inaccurate information. One out of five files contained major mistakes that could “ruin a person’s credit rating.” Subsequent studies have since shown smaller error rates, but results remain high enough to be worrisome.

  Even if the system were perfect, citizens must ponder whether it is wise to entrust companies like Equifax with quasi-governmental powers, while allowing them to retain the low accountability of a private company.

  Identity Theft

  “It’ll be the next growth industry in crime,” said Ontario privacy commissioner Ann Cavoukian. Unlike simple credit card fraud, whereby a thief rings up charges until the card is canceled, identity theft is akin to a felon stealing who you are. A clever swindler starts by using just a few bits of personal information, perhaps your full name and SSN, to access Internet databases and thereby obtain your address, telephone number, driver’s license number, and so on. The swindler can then apply for credit using your good name, run up bills, take over bank accounts, rent apartments, buy cars, and at times even take out mortgages. Some victims find out about this frighteningly personal violation only months later, after receiving angry calls from collection agencies. One brash con artist impersonated Seattle Congressman Jim McDermott for months, running up large bills.

  The important legal point about identity theft is that, unlike the accused in criminal cases, who have “reasonable doubt” on their side, victims of credit fraud bear the burden of proving they are not the individuals who incurred the debts and rang up the purchases in question.

  Bronti Kelly of Temecula, California, found himself repeatedly turned down for jobs in retail. Finally, he learned that the Stores Protection Association, a private firm that carries out background checks on job applicants, was telling each potential employer he had been arrested for shoplifting. It turns out that months earlier someone had taken Kelly’s wallet. Caught swiping goods from a store, the thief gave Kelly’s ID to credulous and careless police officials, thus initiating his nightmare.

  In fact, the creation of false identities has a long tradition. According to MIT sociology professor Gary T. Marx, “Life in urban society, with extensive interactions with strangers, requires that we rely on factors such as uniforms, licenses, credentials to establish identity, resulting in great potential for fraud.... There may be more than 500,000 Americans with fraudulent credentials, diplomas, even questionable medical degrees.”

  Tracking

  For years now, some drivers have hidden primitive radio tracking units aboard their cars, to be triggered if the vehicle is ever stolen. These devices have resulted in many recoveries, as well as the breakup of major theft rings. Newer versions can locate themselves with Global Positioning System (GPS) signals and even dial home via the car’s cell phone. A similar feature now being installed on many laptop computers will dial an Internet-based reporting service the next time the modem is connected if the user does not keep entering a monthly code word.

  With the spread of high-tech toll roads, tens of thousands of automobiles now carry small transponders that let the “smart highways” log each driver’s position, redirect traffic, ease congestion, and send commuters sweeping past toll booths without stopping. It also means that a computer somewhere “knows” where drivers get on the highway, where they get off, and when. Privacy advocates worry how this information might someday be gathered, correlated, and possibly used to track specific persons.

  In one experiment, the Florida Department of Corrections awarded a five-year contract to Pro Tech Monitoring to create SMART (Satellite Monitoring and Remote Tracking), using GPS units and wireless networks to monitor tamper-resistant ankle bracelets worn by sex-crime malefactors.

  These examples of “transponder tracking” are only the beginning of a trend. Bracelet devices are now sold to anxious parents, who tag their kids before visiting a crowded shopping mall. A city in Australia mandates that “curfew bands” be attached to troublemaking teens. Most veterinarians now offer to implant tracking chips painlessly under the skin of pets, enabling rapid recovery by owners, and one California city requires the tagging of any animal processed by the city for neutering, or picked up as a stray.

  Some imaginative civil libertarians worry about a time when subdural transponders might be routinely required for insertion in all citizens, a concern I discussed in my 1979 novel Sundiver. Just because a new technology hasn’t been abused yet, that is no
guarantee it won’t be.

  Advanced Sensors

  Under discussion at the A.C. Nielsen company (the television ratings folks) is their recent patent of a system that would marry cheap digital cameras with face recognition systems to track movement of specific customers down supermarket aisles, correlating this data with information collected at the checkout counter.

  As we discussed in chapter 1, technologies of vision and surveillance seem to be looming from all directions. Some, like putting plastic taggants in explosives, seem inevitable and so obvious that the public wonders with perplexity about politically motivated delays. Others seem more problematic.

  Several new types of concealed-weapon detectors would let police officers ascertain, from a distance of ten to thirty feet, whether a suspect is armed, letting officers “frisk” for weapons without having to approach or touch the person, or even from the safety of their squad car. Officers might drive down a street and search everyone nearby for weapons. Because they are “contraband specific” and do not make body images, few court challenges are expected. Yet requiring citizens to “assume the risk” of observation by whatever technology the government can command raises serious questions. For instance, Pacific Northwest National Laboratory reportedly developed a millimeter-wave imager that “sees” through textiles but is blocked by metal, plastic, and skin. From across a room it can produce a remarkably detailed nude picture of an oblivious, fully clothed person. Airport security might be a potential application if this device is introduced, especially as criminals and terrorists continue to develop plastic weapons that escape discovery by today’s metal detectors. And yet, questions abound. Will a bashful public demand separate aisles for men and women? Or that all operators be elderly ladies? If this technology leads to “X-ray spectacles,” straight out of adolescent fantasy, will citizens develop an intense interest in metallized undergarments?

  Extrapolating just a few years, one can conjure up pictures of a future that is either hell or utopia—depending on who you imagine is controlling the machinery.

  Media Abuse

  When does a private life become a news story? Putting aside for now the matter of paparazzi photographers swarming around the rich and famous, dozens of cases are pending nationwide against broadcasters who put ordinary people on television without their permission or knowledge. A recent explosion of reality-based shows such as Cops and Rescue 911 has led to camera crews accompanying police and ambulance workers. Faces of people are frequently obscured if their permission is not granted, but not always. One woman was filmed in a ditch, pinned inside her family’s overturned car, moaning in pain, and even begging to die. She was tended by a paramedic wearing a microphone. A cameraman also taped her helicopter trip to the hospital, which was broadcast on a syndicated show about real-life rescues. When the woman sued the show’s production company for invasion of privacy, a Los Angeles appeals court ruled that she had a potential right to privacy in the helicopter, but not the ditch, which was a public place. “Involuntary public figures, such as accident victims, lose their right to privacy, not only in regard to the accident itself but, to some extent, to other information as well,” said the judge. Not all such suits fail, however. In another case, where camera crews followed paramedics into a bedroom and taped failed efforts to revive a heart attack victim, the man’s widow later settled out of court for $400,000.

  Private Eyes

  In olden days, the average customer who hired private detectives might have been some shady character or jealous spouse. Today, a burgeoning industry caters to worried parents, anxiously checking up on teens who may be getting involved with drugs, slipping into gangs, or just “running with the wrong crowd.” Actor Carroll O‘Connor typified this attitude when he was interviewed after his son, Hugh, committed suicide amid drug-related problems. “I should have spied on him. Tapped his phone,” O’Connor said. “There are no ethics in a war.”

  This tense matter encapsulates many issues we are covering in this book, such as “the toxicity of ideas” (chapter 5) and the whole question of accountability. Do loved ones have a natural right to yank their children back from a precipice, even against their will? If so, who is to define where the precipice is? Where does protective accountability leave off and where does repression of eccentricity begin?

  “I hope every teen in America suspects there’s a P.I. following him,” said a private eye while tracking a youth, during an episode of the CBS documentary show 48 Hours. The same show covered the growing use of athome drug test kits by parents, who are either tyrannically meddlesome or else desperately clutching at straws, depending on your point of view.

  A New Kind of Harassment

  In June 1997, on the eve of a major series of Federal Trade Commission hearings concerning online privacy, the EPIC released a study of one hundred top sites on the World Wide Web. Although many of these sites captured personal information from visitors and users, the study reported that virtually none had privacy policies that complied with globally accepted privacy standards. Those that did have privacy policies rarely made them easy to find.

  University of California at San Diego Professor Phil Agre describes an irksome encounter with one Internet site. It began when his e-mail box suddenly began filling with puzzling “requests for an autograph.” Eventually, the problem was traced to a “celebrity e-mail addresses” service on a “white pages” Web site that permits Internet users to look up personal information about a large number of people. (The site is funded by advertising.) Both miffed and intrigued, Agre probed deep into their online presence. Finally, below a list of their two dozen corporate partners, he found the following statement:

  Our Commitment to Privacy

  [This company] is committed to protecting its customers’ privacy. Anyone who does not want to be listed in either the telephone or e-mail directory can request to be removed, and a separate database is maintained to prevent them from ever being accidentally re-added to the directory. In addition, we promise never to sell or trade our users’ address information and believe it is essential to protect our users from unsolicited commercial e-mail and mass marketing.

  Agre attempted to make use of this policy, writing to most of the company officers. After many delays, he finally received repeated promises that he would be removed. Yet for another year, his name and address continued to be advertised on their Web pages. Agre concludes, “We can learn some lessons here. One is that the world’s best privacy policy is worthless unless it is followed....[I]t is not reasonable for a company to profit by causing nuisances for innocent people.”

  And sometimes it can be more than a nuisance, as in the case of a woman in Burbank, California, who ordered a materniy catalog when she became pregnant. A barrage of additional catalogs ensued, along with baby-product samples, calls from baby photographers, and offers from diaper services. Unfortunately, she had a miscarriage. But despite her best efforts, the mail and calls kept coming, especially around the date the baby would have been due, many of them offering “congratulations.”

  Two years later, she was still receiving painful birthday cards from merchants eager to sell products for a toddler who never wars.

  Medical Records

  Once upon a time, a patient’s records consisted of papers in a manila folder, kept in the doctor’s office and “encrypted” in the physician’s indecipherable handwriting. Health workers were guided by professional standards that mostly prevented disclosure of patient information, except on a need-to-know basis. The old ways also meant that seeing a specialist involved awkward, complex paper shuffling. Records were often late, illegible, or misplaced.

  Computerization has resulted in a quicker and vastly more knowledgeable care delivery system—even if it sometimes feels less human. But standards and procedures have not kept up with this speedy availability of information. Computerized medical databases cross state lines, though laws regulating the confidentiality of patients’ medical records vary widely. In America, the files are la
rgely controlled by insurance companies or health maintenance organizations (HMOs), and are often unavailable to patients. Medical database information is sometimes bought and sold without the patient’s knowledge or consent.

  There is a lot of legitimate worry about so much knowledge and power being monopolized by “faceless” bureaucracies. Some people fear social discrimination, lack of access to insurance, or poor employment prospects if medical histories or psychological treatments are revealed. Few matters seem so personal as the intimate details about our frail, aching, or aging bodies.

  Yet even this area features some remarkable examples of modern candor. For political candidates, elected officials, and especially the president, medical records are now often released as a matter of routine. We have come a long way since the days when Franklin D. Roosevelt’s wheelchairbound condition (because of polio) was carefully shielded from the public. Today, detailed medical press releases are issued regarding even the president’s minor procedures—treatment for a sprain, a mole removal, or even his weight loss program.

  The trade-offs can at times seem impossible. For example, public health workers have long relied on tracking medical histories to help control the spread of infectious diseases. Smallpox was obliterated worldwide through such detailed sleuthing, identifying disease victims and tracking others they may have infected. Doctors, dentists, and nurses claim they need to know if patients are HIV-positive, so that they can take necessary precautions. Conversely, patient advocacy groups demand that they should know if doctors are HIV-positive. But the advent of AIDS aroused powerful forces driving hard for redoubled confidentiality, and even downright secrecy, a campaign that was reinforced each time ignorant or intolerant people overreacted, such as when Ryan White, a young hemophiliac infected with the HIV virus, was forced out of public schools in Kokomo, Indiana.