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That's a fair description of the existing political coalitions, but that doesn't mean we have exhausted the range of approaches to these competing interests. Fr
by ClintEhrlich 11y ago
That's a fair description of the existing political coalitions, but that doesn't mean we have exhausted the range of approaches to these competing interests. From a systems engineering perspective, radical transparency can simultaneously increase government power and accountability. Government privacy (e.g., via state-secrets laws) is just a special case of the problems that occur when we restrict access to data.
Right now, we seem trapped in the worst of all worlds. The government engages in mass surveillance, so a rogue actor within the state could exploit the accumulated data for the unlawful purposes that you mentioned. And private corporations have access to almost as much information, with equal opportunities to abuse it but fewer democratic checks on their power. At the same time, we forgo virtually all of the potential societal benefits of data aggregation.
If surveillance is justified to prevent terrorism (and I realize that most here would dispute that), why is it not appropriate to use the same data to protect people from risks that claim thousands more lives every year?
I don't think that ubiquitous surveillance necessarily makes police corruption more alluring. One of the most recent policy responses to police misconduct has been the nationwide push for body cameras on individual officers, which is itself a form of surveillance. But it's one that obviously increases accountability, so it doesn't have all of the usual stigmas.
When placed within a proper governing structure, I see no intrinsic reason that other forms of surveillance could not be enlisted for the same purpose. Wouldn't it be better if we had actual surveillance video of what happened in the Trayvon Martin or Michael Brown cases? Do you believe that constantly being monitored in that fashion would increase police abuses of power?
In a broader sense, most of the responses to my comment illustrate the very phenomenon that I'm describing: i.e., an instinctive defense of "privacy" in the abstract instead of a detailed analysis of the costs and benefits of increasing transparency in specific circumstances.
I'm not faulting the authors. After all, I have raised this issue in a very broad sense, and so it's only natural that they would reply in the same fashion. But the way that we seem to be talking past one another illustrates how difficult it is to have meaningful discussions about "privacy."
If I could make three major points, they would be:
1. The need to acknowledge the futility of restricting access to certain forms of data
Most privacy advocates cite benefits that do not correspond with the facts. For example, the government already has the power to tail individuals in public without a warrant and to watch everywhere that they go. Thus, a rogue operative committed to malfeasance has the ability to compromise the privacy of his target. We will never eliminate that power.
The question is, given its existence, would there be benefits to a more comprehensive surveillance system? More specifically, would the marginal benefits of broadening the system outweigh the attendant costs? In my opinion, there is a real debate to be had.
That is especially true in modern America, where we have essentially delegated unlimited surveillance powers to the government, subject only to legal restrictions on the purposes for which the collected information can be employed. Any actor willing to flout the law in order to pursue coercive goals will be able to summarily defeat the obstacles intended to deny access to the current fruits of state surveillance.
If anything, providing the NSA and other members of the intelligence community a monopoly on access to this information seems to increase the risks of misuse, by making it easier for a modern day J. Edgar Hoover to seize power by exploiting the asymmetry between his access to information and that of his foes within the government. I would be more comfortable in a society in which the state transparently employed the data it collects for worthwhile ends instead of pretending that it only uses it for narrow purposes like counter-terrorism.
2. Not all data is created equal When we talk about privacy, people naturally begin framing the debate in Orwellian terms. Isn't it possible for us to approach this topic with more nuance?
For example, if we allowed the government to know which books we are reading (something the NSA already knows...), then political activism could be directly compromised, and the benefits would be limited. The same is not true of expanding public surveillance on city streets or highways, to give one example.
The problem with "privacy" in the abstract is that it simultaneously encompasses legitimate concerns and ones that cannot withstand scrutiny. Why is access to our medical information so privileged? Do we want to subsidize the livelihood of people with medical problems by artificially eliminating the ability of employers or insurance companies to take into account all of the available information?
The answer might well be yes! I certainly benefit from that policy judgment. But I'm not sure that it's the correct one, and I wish that we could enjoy an open debate about whether the gains in aggregate economic efficiency would outweigh the costs to individuals. At minimum, shouldn't we explore alternatives like increasing social welfare payments for medically disadvantaged individuals while simultaneously allowing information about their medical histories to improve the accuracy of public and private decision-making? Maybe that approach wouldn't work, but I have not even heard it discussed.
3. Are we utilitarians or deontologists? One of the major dividing lines in these discussions is an implicit disagreement over the appropriate moral calculus.
I default to consequentialism, so in my mind the foreseeable harms from criminality are equivalent to the potential for police abuse. Yet most people process the two in very different ways emotionally.
My well-being is threatened much more directly by criminal gangs than it is by an oppressive state. Only a few months ago, I nearly lost my life when I was attacked in an alley by two thugs.
Should I be forced to be a martyr for privacy when increased surveillance could have deterred their actions?