Sunday, February 28, 2016

Imagine a really really small police officer...

The readings this week made me think about tiny constables.  It’s not as weird as it sounds.

See, back in 2011, there was a case called United States v. Jones that went before the Supreme Court.  The issue at stake: whether or not attaching a GPS to someone’s car without a warrant was an “unreasonable search or seizure,” forbidden by the Fourth Amendment.  The court held, unanimously, that warrantless GPS tracking was unconstitutional.

This case is noteworthy for a couple of reasons.  First, because Scalia wrote a reasoned, logical, and fundamentally correct majority opinion upholding individual rights.  Not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn’t happen often.  But second, and of more interest to this class, Scalia and Alito had some interesting things to say about the changing state of government surveillance.

The two conservative justices both agreed that modern digital technology made tracking people’s actions possible to an extent that our founding fathers could never have envisioned as they wrote the Bill of Rights.  Justice Alito kind of adorably tries to frame GPS tracking in terms that Madison or Jefferson could have understood.  “Is it possible to imagine a case,” Alito writes, “in which a constable secreted himself somewhere in a coach and remained there for a period of time in order to monitor the movements of the coach’s owner?”

Of course it’s impossible.  There is no reason anyone in the eighteenth century would think that a policeman could shrink to the size of a button and subsist with no food, water, or air for months at a time in order to follow a suspect. It would have required, according to Alito, “either a gigantic coach, a very tiny constable, or both.”

I think about the tiny constable a lot when we come up against new problems in the digital age, problems that our government, our laws, and even our moral philosophers never imagined before.  These are grey areas where it’s not even clear what moral principals apply, much less how.

Trading personal privacy for access to news, as Libert and Pickard’s paper says we do, is a kind of tiny constable. It’s an attempt to use new technology to achieve a fairly dubious goal.  On the one hand, does it really hurt anyone for google to know their web history.  Targeted advertisements are pretty harmless in the long run.  Still, it freaks me out to know that my personal information is being mined like a natural resource. It’s upsetting, and I’d prefer to opt out.

Native advertising, too, is a tiny constable.  For an organization like Buzzfeed, something like “10 Facts about Beef Jerky that Will Make Your Brain Literally Explode” is so close to something they would publish anyway, it wouldn't matter if it’s actually sponsored by Bob’s Beef Jerky Company.  Could a publisher in the 1900s have imagined publishing so many soft news articles every hour that a few could actually be advertisements?


It’s unethical to trick someone into reading an ad when they think it’s supposed to be unbiased news.  And it’s unethical to spy on people without their permission.  But when media organizations come close to those lines without quite crossing them, we need new rules.  We can’t think about these issues in traditional terms like constables and carriages.  We have to understand what these companies are doing and why, and then we have to decide for ourselves what is acceptable.

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