04 September 2020

Smart Homes Data

'Who is responsible for data processing in smart homes? Reconsidering joint controllership and the household exemption' by Jiahong Chen, Lilian Edwards, Lachlan Urquhart, Derek McAuley in (2020) International Data Privacy Law comments 

The growing industrial and research interest in protecting privacy and fighting cyberattacks for smart homes has sparked various innovations in security- and privacy-enhancing technologies (S/PETs) powered by edge computing. The complex technical set-up has however raised a whole series of legal issues surrounding the regulation of smart home with data protection law. 

To determine how responsibility and accountability should be fairly assumed by stakeholders, there is a pressing need to first clarify the roles of these parties within the existing data protection legal framework. This article focuses on two legal concepts under the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) as the mechanisms to (dis)assign responsibilities to various categories of entities in a domestic Internet of Things (IoT) context: joint controllership and the household exemption. 

A close examination of the relevant provisions and case-law shows a widening notion of joint controllership and a narrowing scope for the household exemption. While this interpretative approach may prevent evasion of accountability in specific cases, it may lead to the unintended consequence of imposing disproportionate compliance burdens on developers, contributors, and users of smart home safety technologies. By discouraging users to adopt S/PETs, data protection law may likely lead to a lower level of privacy and security protection. The differential responsibilities among joint controllers as envisaged in case-law may reconcile the tensions to some degree, but certain limitations remain. The regulatory dilemma in this regard highlights some underlying assumptions of data protection law that are no longer valid with regard to a smart home, and thus calls for further conceptual and empirical studies on fair reassignment of responsibility and accountability in a domestic IoT setting. 

 The authors argue 

 Smart home Internet of Things (IoT) devices are notoriously badly secured. Commercial practices geared towards usability see devices shipped with default passwords, but users rarely change these. This has led to cases of IP connected cameras being remotely accessible via search engine Shodan, enabling babies to be monitored sleeping. Similarly, poorly secured devices can be more vulnerable to remote access attacks, implicating them in botnets. We have seen this in the case of the Mirai, Persirai and Reaper botnets. Concurrently, there are growing concerns about the personal data-driven economy resulting from new compliance requirements and high fines under the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR). A key issue is the dominant cloud-based big data analytics infrastructure dominating IoT product and service design. It enables creation of cheaper devices with data collected locally, analysed remotely, and the service provided locally again. 

These IoT privacy and security concerns have sparked a growing research agenda in creating local data storage and analysis infrastructures, where data analytics is brought to the data, as opposed to centralizing the data. This provides users more control over who accesses their data, why, for how long, and so forth. From a regulatory perspective, the European Data Protection Supervisor (EDPS) has extolled the virtues of such personal information management systems (PIMS) sitting at the edge of the network, as has a recent Royal Society report. 

Development and adoption of security- and privacy-enhancing technologies (S/PETs) are not just priorities on the EU’s Digital Single Market Strategy, but indeed encouraged or even required by the GDPR. Yet, the uptake of these technologies will depend on a suitable legal environment with appropriate regulatory incentives provided for developers and users of such technologies and without imposing excessive compliance burdens on them. We however have concerns over the potential impact of data protection law on S/PETs in a domestic IoT context, especially considering how responsibility and accountability are assigned to various groups of actors under the current legal framework. The notion of joint controllers and the household exemption are therefore of significant relevance as they serve as the GDPR’s primary mechanisms to identify the parties responsible to ensure data protection requirements are met. 

To illustrate the implications of joint controllership and the household exemption for domestic IoT S/PETs with edge computing solutions, this article will look at two ongoing research initiatives. The Databox project (funded by the UK's Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council, EPSRC) demonstrates how data protection principles can be built into data processing architectures by design. With personal data stored and analysed on a local PIMS, Databox aims to enable users to benefit from the use of their data without compromising their data privacy. Work by Urquhart et al. considers how it enables accountability, as required in Article 5(2) of the GDPR, by providing mechanisms both for substantive compliance, but also demonstrating compliance. Another EPSRC-funded project, Defence Against Dark Artefacts (DADA), addresses smart home cybersecurity risks by identifying strategies for providing security threat management at the edge of the network. This is achieved by screening the behaviour of devices on the network, and detecting when activity is abnormal. If data flows are going to unexpected destinations or exhibiting abnormal patterns, this may indicate threat actors with remote access or stealing information. 

The development and operation of both Databox and DADA, however, relies heavily on the collection and analysis of device data (which may turn out to be personal or even sensitive data) and involve a wide range of actors who may or may not be categorized as data controllers or data subjects. The complexity of legal relationships in IoT has been highlighted in the literature, and S/PETs will only further increase such complexity. Stakeholders surrounding such systems include architectural developers (eg Databox and DADA developers), third-party component builders (service/app/driver providers), device manufacturers and users, while homeowners, family members, neighbours and visitors may be affected. All these complexities pose pressing questions in both theoretical and practical terms about how responsibilities are managed, and who the different stakeholders are. 

In a scenario where, for example, a homeowner has set up the smart home with such an S/PET solution, should they be treated as a (joint) data controller? If so, can they reasonably claim they are exempted from the controller obligations on the basis of a purely household activity? What about the other involved parties, such as developers of the S/PET system? Fundamentally, and as will be shown below, these questions may eventually come down to the fair allocation of data protection responsibility and accountability among a range of stakeholders. Edge computing for smart homes holds great promise with its architecture designed to keep the use of personal data inside the home, but it remains unclear whether using such technologies would turn homeowners into liable joint controllers. As the rest of this article will show, the way joint controllers and the household exemption have been construed in case-law—with the intention to provide seamless protection to data subjects—may end up running counter to this objective by creating deterrence against the uptake of S/PETs such as Databox and DADA.

Robotspeak

'Lethal Autonomous Weapon Systems: Translating Geek Speak for Lawyers' by Linell A. Letendre in (2020) 96 International Law Studies begins 

 An engineer, a commander, and a lawyer all met at the pearly gates of heaven. Their only entry requirement was that they be able to speak the same language regarding lethal autonomous weapon systems . . . . Query: How long did it take them to pass through the gates? 

While the above sounds like the beginning of a trite joke, the sad and unfortunate aspect is that all too often lawyers’ eyes glaze over as engineers begin speaking about reliability, control theory, and open architecture design, while engineers tune-out at the mere mention of international law principles and go into a comatose state when the Latin phrases begin. However, with the growing utilization of robotics and autonomous systems on the battle-field, lawyers and engineers must learn to speak the same language — or at the very least, understand the basics of the other’s world. 

Why the imperative? Why can engineers not just keep designing systems Ibased on operator requirements and military lawyers not just keep evaluating the legality of the weapons systems once the systems are built? The simple answer is that autonomy is different. Advances in autonomy have the potential to move the human warrior further and further out of the control loop and to leave more and more decisions up to the machine. The catch is that the laws of war are to be assessed and implemented by people, not machines. Translating the legal requirements for the use of force cannot be an after-thought in the development of autonomous weapon systems; it must be built-in from the beginning. The better engineers understand international law requirements and lawyers understand the technical limitations of autonomous systems, the more likely we are to develop lethal autonomous weapon systems that comply with the law. 

To further such understanding, this article demystifies robotics and autonomy for lawyers. While a lawyer will not be qualified to build a weapons system after reading this article, he or she should at least be able to follow a conversation surrounding robotics and ask intelligent questions of robotics engineers and the operators. The article starts with the basics by defining robots, autonomy, and operator (warfighter) terminology for unmanned platforms. Then, it explores how robotic and autonomous systems work by explaining control systems and robotic learning and reasoning. After most sections, the article provides a general overview of the topic discussed and explains why it is important for lawyers to understand the key issues related to this topic. As such, there are a series of questions to aid lawyers in asking relevant and meaningful questions of robotic engineers. 

Returning to the opening question, were there not two other people besides the lawyer at the pearly gates? Yes, the engineer and the commander joined the lawyer at the heavenly gates. A companion article, 'Lethal Autonomous Weapons: Translating Legal Jargon for Engineers', provides an overview of the international law governing the use of autonomous weapon systems in combat. Similar to this article, 'Translating Legal Jargon for Engineers' provides questions that an engineer may use to clarify design specifications with lawyers during the development of autonomous weapon systems. The combination of these two articles provides a necessary foundation for lawyers and engineers to understand autonomous weapon systems. 

The remaining person, the commander, is the individual with the most at stake in ensuring that this conversation between lawyers and engineers occurs. Even as human operators are pushed further from decision loops in autonomous systems, the commander will remain legally (and at times criminally) responsible for the proper employment of these weapon systems in combat. Thus, commanders should strive to pull engineers and lawyers into the same room when developing requirements for future autonomous systems and force a dialogue between them. To encourage meaningful dialogue, commanders should review the suggested list of questions that a military lawyer could ask a robotics engineer and vice versa. If a commander hears these types of questions, he or she can have confidence that all the parties to the critical determination of whether an autonomous weapon system is legal (either per se or in its employment) are speaking the same language.

Tear Gas

The Problematic Legality of Tear Gas Under International Human Rights Law (2020) by Natasha Williams, Maija Fiorante and Vincent Wong comments

The use of tear gas has exploded recently, as people have gathered en masse in the U.S. and around the world to protest racial injustice and police brutality in the wake of the killing of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police. In order to suppress these protests, tear gas has been used in large quantities and in questionable ways by police in Minneapolis, Seattle, Los Angeles, Washington, Philadelphia, and Montreal, among other cities. Globally, tear gas has been a popular law enforcement option to crackdown on protests in many regions, from France to Chile, Turkey to Hong Kong. In one recent high profile deployment, tear gas was used to clear a peaceful crowd outside the White House so U.S. President Donald Trump could take a photo at a church across the street. 

Despite its prohibition in warfare, not all uses of tear gas are illegal under the current state of international human rights law. In fact, the international protocol governing chemical weapons has been explicitly interpreted by many countries to allow for the use of tear gas in law enforcement. However, tear gas should be banned under international human rights law. 

Used as an area weapon, tear gas is indiscriminate in its effects — it harms everyone in its vicinity regardless of whether one is engaged in militant actions in a demonstration, protesting peacefully, or merely observing. Although international guidance exists, including UN guidelines on the use of less-lethal weapons, these non-binding documents are vague and ineffective in curtailing violations, giving rise to a situation where tear gas is systematically prone to misuse. These factors make tear gas inherently inappropriate and dangerous to use. The use of tear gas is rightfully banned in warfare, and should equally be banned as a riot control agent in domestic contexts. 

Historically, tear gas has had a particularly close connection with severe human rights violations and torture. Banning tear gas under international human rights law will ensure that tear gas will no longer be deployed inappropriately, causing unnecessary harm and injury, nor will it be further used to unduly extinguish freedom of speech and freedom of assembly.

The authors note 
In the law of war, where far greater leeway is given to the use of deadly force, tear gas is forbidden. Given this, it is illogical to continue to allow for its use by domestic law enforcement as a riot control agent. 
 
The first international attempt at banning tear gas, among other chemical and biological weapons, was convened by the League of Nations and produced the Geneva Protocol of 1925. 
 
The Protocol bans “the use in war of asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases”. Tear gas could potentially fall into any of the three impugned categories, but the text itself is not specific and does not spell out exactly which agents are prohibited and which are not. While many countries endorsed the interpretation that tear gas was banned under the Protocol, the U.S. used the vagueness of the text to assert that it was not, leading to its widespread use in the Vietnam War. 
 
The Chemical Weapons Convention, an International Humanitarian Law (IHL) agreement binding on 193 states parties, was intended to be a stronger treaty than the 1925 Geneva Protocol by banning the use of chemical weapons entirely in war. While it reaffirmed the principles and objectives of the Protocol, the Convention goes much further than its predecessors in prohibiting riot control agents (RCAs). However, the Convention carves out exceptions for the use of RCAs by law enforcement. While the use of RCAs as a method of warfare is considered a direct violation, the Convention explicitly exempts the use of RCAs, including tear gas, for law enforcement purposes such as domestic riot control. 
 
One rationale for this exception can be traced back to the Convention’s negotiations, which indicate that the terms were deliberately changed in order to achieve a more widespread acceptance of the Convention. In particular, the terms governing RCAs were controversial for the United States. Thus, these terms were deliberately broadened to allow for the possibility of domestic and non-domestic use of RCAs by law enforcement. 
 
The Convention remains ambiguous on its definitions of permitted “law enforcement” and prohibited “method of warfare,” raising questions regarding exactly when tear gas use is permitted or banned under the Convention. The Convention is also silent on “types” and “quantities” of RCAs permitted. States parties have consequently interpreted this as they see fit. For instance, the United States, under the Clinton administration, interpreted the Convention’s provisions as not prohibiting the use of RCAs in riot control situations in areas under direct U.S. military control, including rioting by prisoners of war, and protecting convoys from terrorists in areas outside the zone of immediate combat. For the U.S., the use of RCAs solely against noncombatants for law enforcement, riot control, or other noncombatant purposes would not be considered as a “method of warfare” and therefore would not be prohibited. Furthermore, uses of RCAs outside of international or internal armed conflict were seen as being unaffected by the Convention. The Convention was interpreted as not applying to peacetime uses, such as peacekeeping operations, law enforcement operations, humanitarian and disaster relief operations and noncombatant rescue operations conducted outside of international or internal armed conflicts. In contrast to the United States, the United Kingdom considers RCAs a method of warfare and thus prohibited by the Convention. 
 
Despite the development and the ratification of the Convention, the leading international protocol on chemical weapons, there remain significant gaps in the governance on tear gas, enabling law enforcement bodies to exploit these ambiguities for their own interests. A complete ban on tear gas would resolve these discrepancies in the interpretation of the Convention. 
 
Another rationale offered for the disparity between legal treatment within and outside zones of conflict suggests that tear gas and other RCAs are banned in warfare because they don’t discriminate between combatants and noncombatants. However, according to this line of reasoning, tear gas should also be banned for use by domestic law enforcement. Tear gas cannot distinguish between the young and the elderly, the healthy and the sick, the peaceful and the violent. It causes myriad health harms regardless of whether someone is a rally goer or a bystander. The legal exception for use of RCAs in domestic law enforcement can therefore best be explained as a matter of political expediency during treaty negotiations. There is little in the way of a principled human rights rationale to support the domestic use of RCAs against one’s own citizens. Moreover, the prohibition of tear gas in warfare establishes the norm that tear gas is a harmful weapon whose use is not even acceptable during war. This norm is reaffirmed by Article 8 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, which includes several provisions governing the use of chemical weapons in armed conflict. Specifically, Articles 8(2)(b) and 8(2)(e) provide that the employment of “poisoned weapons” and “asphyxiating poisonous or other gases, and all analogous liquids, materials or devices” constitute war crimes, both in international and non-international armed conflict. Although the Statute does not explicitly mention tear gas, it is likely that these provisions encompass tear gas, as the agent would fall under “other” or “analogous” poison gas. Tear gas is banned on the battlefield and should be banned in peacetime as well.

Australian Geographical Indications Regime

IP Australia has released a consultation paper on Australia-European Union Free Trade Agreement: Consultation on a Possible New Geographical Indications Right

The paper states 

In June 2018, the Australian Government launched negotiations for a comprehensive and ambitious Free Trade Agreement (FTA) with the European Union (EU). Currently, the only way to improve access to the EU market, is through FTAs. The EU is Australia’s third largest trading partner and two-way investment partner. Securing improved access will deliver new trade and investment opportunities across Australia, including for our rural and regional areas. Creating more opportunities, on preferential terms, in a large, stable market such as the EU, with its population of 440 million potential consumers is more important than ever as we recover from the global COVID-19 pandemic, and will support and drive our economic and trade interests well into the future. 

In order to secure Australia’s interests in the FTA, the Government is engaging with the EU on its Geographical Indications (GI) interests. The Government has made no commitment to protect specific EU GIs and has made clear it would only consider doing so if the overall FTA deal was good enough for Australia, including by delivering on Australia’s agricultural market access interests. Nothing in this consultation paper means the Australian Government has agreed, or will agree, to make any changes to its existing GI regulatory framework or policy. 

This consultation seeks industry, business and community views on the type of system changes that may be considered in the event a negotiated outcome gave rise to changes to the way we currently protect GIs. 

Consistent with its approach toward other FTA partners, the EU has identified the protection of GIs as one of its key objectives in the negotiations. As part of the FTA, the EU has asked Australia to agree to protect 236 spirit names and 172 agricultural and other names as GIs. The EU has also proposed a number of ways in which it would like Australia to protect EU GIs. You can find the proposals that the EU put forward on GIs on the European Commission website. 

The EU’s proposals on how its GI terms would be protected or the standard of protection to be afforded to those GI terms also remains subject to negotiation. We note that the EU has agreed different outcomes on GIs in its other FTAs, including with Canada, Vietnam, Singapore, Japan, and Mexico for example, reflecting the specific interests and circumstances at play. 

Should Australia agree to protect specific EU GI terms through the FTA and change the way we currently protect GIs, we would need to amend our law. Were we to do so, the Government would amend the Trade Marks Act 1995 to create a GI right. 

The Government will continue to engage closely with industry, business and interested stakeholders as part of the Government’s efforts to enhance the transparency in the A-EUFTA negotiations. This covers all aspects of the FTA negotiations, including GIs. For example, from 13 August to 13 November 2019, the Australian Government held a public objections process on the GI terms the EU has asked Australia to protect as part of the FTA. 

This consultation builds on our existing engagement by seeking views on core elements of an Australian GI system we consider relevant and appropriate to our circumstances. Some of these elements have been raised by the EU in the negotiations, some have not, as noted throughout the paper.

IP Australia is seeking comments addressed to the following questions: 

 Registering a GI 

Q.1 What types of goods should be eligible for protection as a GI? 

Q.2 Should GIs filed under a new system cover a single good or multiple goods? 

Q.3 Are there particular safeguards that should be considered for a new GI right? 

Q.4 Under what circumstances should two rights, for example a new GI and an earlier trade mark, be able to co-exist? 

Q.5 What level of detail should be required for any conditions of use, such as production methods, boundaries and what it means for a product to come from the region? 

Standard of protection 

Q.6 Should a new GI right extend the international standard of protection for wines and spirits to all goods? Are there other practices that should be prevented? 

Using a GI right 

Q.7 Who should be able to apply for a GI in Australia? 

Q.8 Should those who meet the requirements of a GI be able to use the GI automatically, or should they need approval from the GI right holder? 

Enforcing GIs 

Q.9 Should any user be able to enforce a GI or should it be limited to the GI right holder? 

Q.10 Should criminal enforcement be available for GIs registered in Australia? Costs and Benefits 

Q.11 What would be the costs and benefits to Australian industry, producers, and consumers of creating a new GI right?

Genetic Testing

The Australian Medical Association has released its Position Statement on Genetic Testing and Genomics in Medicine 2020, an update of the AMA Position Statement on Genetic Testing 2012 - expanding it to include not only genetics (the study of individual genes and associated inherited conditions and traits), but also genomics (the study of an individual’s genetic material and the influences of environmental and other factors). 

 AMA President, Dr Omar Khorshid, said that the Position Statement highlights the capacity of genetics and genomics to rapidly transform health care, potentially providing more cost-effective treatments and improving patient outcomes

The AMA believes genetic and genomic technologies should be incorporated into everyday health care, and that genetic discrimination should be prohibited. There should be equitable and efficient access to safe, evidence-based genetic and genomics testing services throughout Australia.  This requires appropriate infrastructure, workforce planning, and investment in training and development to ensure a genomic literate workforce, including an ongoing high-quality genetic pathology-related workforce. The ethical, economic, and social issues associated with genetic and genomics testing must be addressed to remove any barriers and disincentives, and allow equitable access to these services. 

The updated policy: 

  •  recognises the importance and role of genomics in health care, 
  • makes clear that the AMA supports the current legislation prohibiting the patenting of human genes, 
  • makes clear that the AMA condemns the practice of eugenics, 
  • reaffirms the position that genetic selection should not be undertaken on the basis of sex unless it is to reduce the risk of transmission of a sex-dependent condition, but expands this to also include or a disease that would severely limit the person’s quality of life, 
  • incorporates a new section on the emerging issue of genome editing, addressing both somatic and germline genome editing, recognising these technologies may be acceptable for research purposes, provided they are appropriately regulated, and is clear that germline genome editing for the purposes of reproduction should be prohibited at this time as it requires further scientific, ethical, and social considerations because the potential risks to the health of future generations are as yet unclear. 

03 September 2020

Literature

French CJ in a 2010 Victorian Bar Association speech commented

in the unpromising setting of a moneylending case, Chief Justice Barwick let his literary hair down and spoke of arrangements which sprang out of friendship and which 'at least as to friendship had a Shakespearian denouement'. 

All the Chief Justices, however, could take lessons in judicial literary adventurism from Chief Justice John Roberts of the United States Supreme Court, who recently visited this city. In a judgment he wrote in 2008 concerning whether a police officer lacked probable cause to arrest a cocaine dealer, he adopted the style of Raymond Chandler:

North Philly, May 4 2001. Officer Sean Devlin, Narcotics Strike Force, was working the morning shift. Undercover surveillance. The neighbourhood? Tough as a three-dollar steak. Devlin knew. Five years on the beat, nine months with the Strike Force. He'd made fifteen, twenty drug busts in the neighbourhood. 

Devlin spotted him: a lone man on the corner. Another approached. Quick exchange of words. Cash handed over; small objects handed back. Each man then quickly on his own way. Devlin knew the guy wasn't buying bus tokens. He radioed a description and Officer Stein picked up the buyer. Sure enough: three bags of crack in the guy's pocket. Head downtown and book him. Just another day at the office.

It is not necessary for a lawyer to be a writer, composer or poet, or a judge with literary pretensions to be a singer of songs and dreamer of plays. Karl Llewellyn, in his famous Bramble Bush Lectures of the late 1920s and early 1930s, eloquently and elegantly took issue with Sandburg's relegation of the legal profession from the ranks of productive humanity. He pointed to the way in which creative advocacy informs good judging and said: 

The job of choosing wisely between the inventions of counsel is a difficult one. The job of consistent wise choice is tremendous. Yet it is not of itself the major work. That has been done, consistently, continuously, by the bar ... And when I say invention, I mean invention. To produce out of raw facts a theory of a case is prophecy. To produce it persuasively, and to get it over, is prophecy fulfilled. Singers of songs and dreamers of plays – though they be lawyers – build a house no wind blows over.

The songs and plays of counsel are shaped by the exigencies of the particular cases in which they appear. They resonate in the public sphere. Every legal proceeding, however small, however apparently routine, is a public acting out of the proposition that ours is a society governed by the rule of law and aspiring to justice according to law. Every contending argument in every case is a statement about where the justice of the case, according to law, is to be found. Every judicial decision made independently, impartially and with care declares the answer, as best the judge can give it, to the question: what does the doing of justice according to law require of me in this case?

02 September 2020

Civilisation and Privacy

'Too Much Information: Civilisation and the Problems of Privacy', the 2020 Griffith Law School Michael Whincop Memorial Lecture by High Court justice P A Keane, argues that 'the problems of privacy are problems of civilisation'. 

As Gleeson CJ said in Australian Broadcasting Corporation v Lenah Game Meats Pty Ltd: "Part of the price we pay for living in an organised society is that we are exposed to observation in a variety of ways by other people." Living under the scrutiny of our fellow citizens is no picnic. The stresses of human interaction intensified by the exigencies of city life are apt to affect individuals adversely in many ways. Living together in cities means that we see rather a lot of each other; often more than we would like, and indeed more than may be objectively good for us as individuals. 

In 2000, the American legal scholar Jeffrey Rosen, in his book, The Unwanted Gaze, wrote: "[W]e are beginning to learn how much may be lost in a culture of transparency: the capacity for creativity and eccentricity, for the development of self and soul, for understanding, friendship and even love. There are dangers to pathological lying, but there are also dangers to pathological truth-telling. Privacy is a form of opacity, and opacity has its values. We need more shades and more blinds and more virtual curtains. Someday, perhaps, we will look back with nostalgia on a society that still believed opacity was possible and was shocked to discover what happens when it is not." 

Earlier, and more famously, Sigmund Freud wrote in his book Civilisation and its Discontents of the anxieties and neuroses generated by civilised living. The social disciplines necessary to the highly associated life lived in a city, whether self-imposed or externally enforced, serve to suppress and frustrate the gratification of our ordinary selfish human instincts, and so create internal conflicts which exacerbate, and are themselves exacerbated by, the social conflicts that are multiplied by city life. And these stresses are further aggravated by the, often well-meaning, suggestions of others as to how we might best live our lives. Not infrequently, those suggestions harden into orders, enforced by the power of the State. ... 

Significantly, the political philosophy that Plato developed in reaction to what he despised as mob rule by the kind of totalitarian democracy that crushed Socrates did not include any notion of individual rights and freedom of conscience. His philosophy was one of totalitarian aristocracy, of rule by grim guardians who would decide what is best for the rest of us, and in whose republic there was no place for poets. Two and a half millennia after Socrates chose to take the hemlock, we would not now be so blithe to follow him to a like fate in pious deference to the judgment of anxious busy-body neighbours about whether or not we are offending their gods. Our notion of a free society encompasses more than freedom from the demands of a foreign tax-collector; we are deeply conscious of the need for space for ourselves as individuals, for some distance from each other.  ...

Our perspectives on these kinds of questions change with the times. The dynamics of the tension between the public and the private in relation to issues of freedom of religious belief and worship, and freedom of association generally and social solidarity and fellowship have been both creative and destructive. The glories of medieval art, architecture and education were created in a milieu in which the energies of Christian religious belief were harnessed by the nascent European states allied to the Church. Thousands upon thousands of people were energised by the belief that they were ensuring the salvation of their own souls bound themselves together by vows of poverty, charity and obedience to become the instrument that recivilised Europe. 

On the other hand, the horrors of the religious wars and the Inquisition were driven by the willingness of those good Christians who were clothed in the power of the State to act upon St Augustine's mandate "impelle intrare": make them come in. On this view, if one loves one's fellow, one does not allow him or her to go his or her own way in private error: love requires that the erring soul be brought back, by force if necessary, to the truth as we know it to be. And, unfortunately for large numbers of people in Europe during the Middle Ages, the Dominicans loved them very much. 

The problem today 

The State has long been recognised as the most obvious threat to individual rights, especially the right to be let alone. But our fellow citizens and the fourth estate, jealous of the public's "right to know", are also no little part of the problem of privacy. Whether it is the attention of the State or its agents, or of the media, or simply the scrutiny of our fellow citizens that threatens the quality of our lives as individuals, some legal protection for the private space in our highly associated lives has come to be recognised as essential. Louis D Brandeis was one of the greatest Justices of the United States Supreme Court. He, together with Samuel Warren, was prompted to write a ground-breaking article, "The Right to Privacy" that was published in the Harvard Law Review in 1890. That article initiated and inspired modern discussion of the problem of privacy in the common law as an aspect of modern civilised living. Brandeis' great insight was that privacy should not be understood as a right based on notions of property, but on the idea "of an inviolate personality", as an aspect of our common human dignity. 

In the century following publication of "The Right to Privacy", the Courts of the United States developed a cause of action to protect privacy so understood. This development was greatly aided in the United States by "the discovery in Griswold v Connecticut of 'the zone of privacy' located in the penumbras of specific guarantees in the Bill of Rights" and "in a number of cases [in which] the prohibition imposed by the Fourth Amendment ... upon unreasonable searches and seizures has been interpreted by reference to a reasonable expectation of privacy". The problem, as a matter of particular concern to lawyers, did not pass unnoticed in Australia. In 1937, Sir George Rich, speculating on the consequences of the invention of television, said presciently: "I venture to think that the advance of that art may force the courts to recognise that protection against the complete exposure of the doings of the individual may be a right indispensable to the enjoyment of life." 

Nevertheless, Australia, with its very different constitutional context and stronger tradition of judicial restraint in relation to the making of law, did not follow the lead of the United States. And so, notwithstanding the many and profound changes to the common law in Australia wrought by decisions of our courts in the last two decades of the 20th Century, there is "still no 'right of privacy' properly so called in the Australian common law". 

A right to privacy? 

The technological advances that began in the 20th Century have aggravated rather than mitigated the problem of distinguishing between the public and the private aspects of our lives. In earlier and simpler times, people knew that they were crossing the line between the private and the public when they entered the agora or the forum or the town hall, or even when they appeared on television, to engage in debate. The physical fact of the public location of the activity both marked the activity as a matter of public concern. The physical fact of face to face communication also helped to ensure a minimum level of civility. The coming of the digital age has, in large part, erased the gentling effect of the physical prompts to civility. Civility is the indispensable virtue of democracy. It is the virtue that helps us to accept the unsatisfactory possibility that we may not be right about an issue, and that those who think differently may nevertheless be decent and honourable not to be despised. 

Online communication, for all its intensity and ubiquity, is an isolated and isolating activity conducted without the ordinary social constraints provided by the presence of another human being and the possibility of provoking an uncivil reaction. The Information Revolution has largely removed these physical markers. Without the guidance of these physical markers, the need to articulate a stable theoretical basis for drawing the boundary has become at once even more imperative and yet more difficult. 

The ubiquity of social media has exacerbated the stresses associated with intensive interaction between individuals. An active online presence is likely to mean finding oneself in heated disputes with people we do not know and may well have difficulty identifying. Some keyboard warriors may be malignant; some may be relatively innocent but of questionable mental health. An absence of civility is characteristic of much of this communication. And there is confusion as to whether much of this debate should be regarded as a private or public activity. 

In the recent case of Comcare v Banerji , the High Court was called upon to determine a challenge to the validity of provisions of the Public Service Act 1999 (Cth) that required employees of the Australian Public Service ("APS") to at all times behave in a way that upholds the apolitical character of the APS. Ms Banerji, an APS employee, used Twitter to broadcast more than 9,000 tweets, many of which were critical of her Department, other employees, government and opposition policies and Members of Parliament. Ms Banerji argued that insofar as the provisions of the Public Service Act purported to authorise sanctions against an APS employee for political communications that did not, on their face, disclose her true name, or the fact of her being an APS employee, they were invalid as an unjustified burden on the constitutionally implied freedom of political communication. The Court held that the maintenance of an apolitical public service is a legitimate purpose compatible with the system of responsible government contemplated by s 64 of the Constitution 

One academic commentator criticised the decision on the basis that it allowed sweeping intrusions into the private lives of public servants . In this regard, it must be remembered that the implied freedom could be invoked at all only because Ms Banerji claimed to be contributing to public debate about matters of public interest. It is a contradiction in terms to claim to be speaking in the public square about the public interest while at the same time insisting that one is engaged in a private activity. 

Keane J throws a bucket of cold water on proposals for a broad common law cause of action regarding an invasion of privacy, stating 

In Australian Broadcasting Corporation v Lenah Game Meats Pty Ltd , a majority of the Justices of the High Court expressed themselves to be open to the development of the common law to accept "a principle protecting the interests of the individual in leading, to some reasonable extent, a secluded and private life ... 'free from the prying eyes, ears and publications of others'". 

Given the tenor of the reasons of the majority in Lenah Game Meats, it would not be surprising were the High Court now to accept a tort of invasion of privacy, along the lines of the US Restatement. But such a cause of action would probably be confined to cases of intentional intrusion, physically or otherwise, upon the solitude or seclusion of an individual or his or her private affairs . In the case of the publicising of a matter concerning the private life of an individual, the conduct would be actionable if the matter publicised is of a kind that would be highly offensive to a reasonable person and is not of legitimate concern to the public. 

Modern experience suggests that, when the public interest in knowing the truth about government and public affairs collides with the protection of an individual's privacy, "privacy almost always loses" . In the Supreme Court of the United States in Bartnicki v Vopper, Justice John Paul Stevens, delivering the opinion of the Court, observed that "privacy concerns give way when balanced against the interest in publishing matters of public importance". It is also likely that a new cause of action along the lines adumbrated in the US Restatement would not be available to a corporation because the cause of action is concerned to protect human dignity, not the opportunity to exploit information about business. 

Salacious celebrities 

That leads us to consider for a moment the extent to which the law, in seeking to protect privacy, should be concerned to protect individual property or financial interests associated with privacy or something more basic such as our shared dignity as human beings. It might be thought that after a thousand years of common law, financial and property interests are already sufficiently protected. The question as to the extent to which the law should protect human dignity has arisen in an acute form in cases where celebrities have sought to monetise their private lives. Should the law aid individuals to profit from the commercialisation of their intimate moments? I would not presume to offer an answer to this question; but Louis Brandeis seems to have suggested an answer that some might find surprising. In the seminal article on privacy by Brandeis and Warren that I mentioned earlier, the preservation of individual privacy is presented as an aspect of human dignity in relation to which the community as a whole has an interest. 

In this regard, Brandeis and Warren wrote, in a passage that I need to cite at some length:

Gossip is no longer the resource of the idle and of the vicious, but has become a trade, which is pursued with industry as well as effrontery. To satisfy a prurient taste the details of sexual relations are spread broadcast in the columns of the daily papers. To occupy the indolent, column upon column is filled with idle gossip, which can only be procured by intrusion upon the domestic circle. The intensity and complexity of life, attendant upon advancing civilization, have rendered necessary some retreat from the world, and man, under the refining influence of culture, has become more sensitive to publicity, so that solitude and privacy have become more essential to the individual; but modern enterprise and invention have, through invasions upon his privacy, subjected him to mental pain and distress, far greater than could be inflicted by mere bodily injury. Nor is the harm wrought by such invasions confined to the suffering of those who may be made the subjects of journalistic or other enterprise. In this, as in other branches of commerce, the supply creates the demand. Each crop of unseemly gossip, thus harvested, becomes the seed of more, and, in direct proportion to its circulation, results in a lowering of social standards and of morality. Even gossip apparently harmless, when widely and persistently circulated, is potent for evil. It both belittles and perverts. It belittles by inverting the relative importance of things, thus dwarfing the thoughts and aspirations of a people. When personal gossip attains the dignity of print, and crowds the space available for matters of real interest to the community, what wonder that the ignorant and thoughtless mistake its relative importance. Easy of comprehension, appealing to that weak side of human nature which is never wholly cast down by the misfortunes and frailties of our neighbors, no one can be surprised that it usurps the place of interest in brains capable of other things. Triviality destroys at once robustness of thought and delicacy of feeling. No enthusiasm can flourish, no generous impulse can survive under its blighting influence.(emphasis added)

In this passage, considerations of human dignity underlie Brandeis' view of the need for legal protection for the privacy of the individual. The other side of the coin of concern about our shared human dignity has its practical manifestation in a concern for the moral "health" of the community. Breaches of individual privacy can cause harm not only to the dignity of the individual whose privacy is violated, but they are also apt to diminish the dignity of others as members of a community demoralised by gossip obsessed with other people's moral failings. In Brandeis' view, privacy is not merely something which individuals should be able to assert against governments, or as against the media who seek to uncover our private moments whether for public amusement or public disapproval. Respect for privacy may encompass the broader concern that human dignity itself requires the keeping of a respectful distance from each other's private life. On this view, the right to a happy private life for all citizens is not protected by imposing legal limits on the power of the State or the fourth estate to intrude upon the life of the individual; there should also be a brake upon the demoralisation of the community and the degradation of public discourse by the sharing of what belongs to our private lives and our intimate moments. 

While some may wish the law did more to rein in the compulsive oversharing of their friends and family on social media, the suggestion in the seminal article on privacy by Brandeis and Warren that the notion of the right to privacy includes an obligation to respect the entitlement of other individuals to freedom from the public sharing of information of a private nature seems largely to have escaped critical attention. That is not surprising: its implications are far from straightforward and are not particularly attractive. 

If we accept that we all have an interest as a matter of our shared human dignity in ensuring that our private lives should be kept private to ourselves, then is not the celebrity who seeks to commercialise his or her private moments in breach of this mutual expectation? If I take seriously the notion that your private life is none of my business, should the law help you to monetise your attention-seeking affront to our shared dignity, if the only reason you are doing so is to be paid for publishing your intimate moments? 

If the logic of this position were to be accepted, then the courts would refuse the protection of the tort of invasion of privacy where it is invoked to vindicate a celebrity's financial interest in being able to turn the intimate moments of his or her life, or family life, into money. Of course, this is not how the law has developed. Since the decision in Douglas v Hello, English law has allowed celebrities to claim recompense when others interfere with their opportunity to exploit their intimate moments for profit. 

It may be objected that my interpretation of what Brandeis had in mind in the passage I have read out is unduly strained. I don't think that it is. 

Louis Brandeis was clearly concerned with the debilitating effects of gossip and its tendency to debase the standards necessary to the public life of the nation. And the thinking revealed in the passage I have read from Brandeis' seminal article is of a piece with his general outlook and his personal habits. 

Brandeis himself took the idea of privacy, and the demands which it made on the individual, very seriously. He lived his life on the basis that if one was serious about preserving one's privacy, one would have to accept a measure of self-discipline and inconvenience to that end. For him, physical boundaries marked out his private space. He would not allow a telephone to be installed in his own home. Once he was in the sanctum of his own home, even his fellow citizens and friends had to keep their distance. Even outside the sanctity of his own home, Brandeis was not willing to surrender to the social opportunities facilitated by the telephone. He steadfastly refused to use the telephones which were installed in his chambers in the Supreme Court. 

Many would object that Brandeis' distinctly illiberal view of the demoralising potential of oversharing of private matters in public life is too extreme. I doubt that any of us takes privacy as seriously as Louis Brandeis evidently did. A rigorous implementation of the notion of freedom from information touched on in his seminal article on privacy could lead to limits on freedom of expression that would appear to us to be very right wing indeed. Such limits might be welcome in Plato's Republic, but they are quite unacceptable in an open society. While some might welcome relief from the relentless streaming of gossip about other people's private lives, for most of us the prospect of bonfires stoked by copies of "New Idea" – a great leap forward to Fifteenth Century Spain – is simply too alarming to countenance. 

Solutions? 

In Australia, we don't have the constitutional foundation for "the zone of privacy" approach discovered by the US Supreme Court in Griswold v Connecticut. Some say that the US Constitution does not, in truth, provide such a foundation either. Be that as it may, drawing the contours of the zone of privacy is an exercise that depends very much on the views of the Judges who on issues of this kind divide in conformity with the views of the political party that appointed them. In Australia, we have neither that blessing nor that curse. Perhaps we need to recognise that relying upon judicial development of the law to solve the problem of privacy has been, at best, a hit and miss affair. The example of Louis Brandeis – one of the very greatest of the judges of the 20th Century – shows that reliance upon judicial reconciliation of the competing values that underlie our appreciation of privacy and the public interest may lead to conclusions that sit awkwardly with the zeitgeist. 

We can, I think, say with some confidence, that experience also shows that it is not prudent to rely upon the media – whether old or new – to solve the problem of striking the right balance between the claims of the public and the private. It is not unfair, I hope, to observe that much of the current agitation for changes to our laws of defamation in favour of greater freedom of speech, and consequently less protection for the privacy and reputation of individuals, comes from those who own, or have ready access to, the mass media and whose financial interests are advanced by reducing the ability of those they harm to claim meaningful redress. 

As Jack Lang famously said: "Always back self-interest. It is the only horse in the race that is always trying." The vested interests of the old media are such that they can always be expected to sacrifice the privacy of citizens, that is to say, all those of us who do not own media outlets, in order to make more sales. The recent litigation involving the journalist Annika Smethurst helps to make this point. The arguments propounded in that case by the media outlets carefully eschewed any attempt to press forward from the decision in Lenah Game Meats towards a broader protection of privacy. 

The position taken by the media in Smethurst is a reminder, if one were needed, that, when the owners of the media are faced with a choice between the right to know and the right to privacy, they can be expected to favour the right with the dollar signs attached - and that will be so wherever one might think the balance of the public interests lies. 

The legitimate self-interest whose energy we need to harness is the interest that all of us have as citizens. It is definitely not the interest of media outlets, such as Fox News, which lies in pandering to the prejudices of its audience and stoking their distrust and disapproval of their fellow citizens. 

The new media, in particular online carriers of user-generated content, have the power to collect vast amounts of information about all of us, and to sell that information to their advertisers. It is in the interest of these platforms to exercise that power as free from responsibility for the harm they cause as they can be. 

If you are a user of social media platforms, you should be aware that they know a great deal about you, and that they are willing to share what they know about you with their advertisers, and possibly others, in return for money. And I have little doubt that Louis Brandeis would say that you should also know that that is so largely because you have collectively enabled them to act as they do, and that, therefore, it is your responsibility collectively to do something about it. 

In the end, there is no comprehensive and stable solution to the legal problems of privacy because there is no bright and eternal line between the private and the public aspects of civilised life. And it is difficult in the extreme to legislate for civility. If we are to do something practical about the debasing of political discourse and the coarsening of public life, it is both necessary and prudent to involve our legislatures, no doubt with the assistance of our law reform agencies and the academic scholarship into which they can tap. It is important to remember that government is not necessarily the enemy, especially in a democracy where we can change our legislature and executive, but not our plutocrats. And we need to engage with each other through them in a spirit of good citizenship ...

NGOs

'Pandemic Powers: Why Human Rights Organizations Should Not Lose Focus on Civil and Political Rights' by Eda Seyhan in (2020) Journal of Human Rights Practice comments 

In response to the rise of ‘populism’ and the perceived threat to human rights that it represents, human rights advocates have argued that NGOs must speak to the economic anxieties of majority populations by increasing work on economic and social rights. In this essay, I present a counter-argument to this proposal, drawing on insights from the COVID-19 pandemic and my experiences working at Amnesty International and monitoring emergency powers during the pandemic for Covid State Watch. I argue that international human rights NGOs should retain a focus on civil and political rights for three reasons. The COVID-19 pandemic has (1) revealed and reinforced the vast repressive power of the state and consequent serious risks to civil and political rights in the global North and (2) demonstrated that human rights NGOs are often alone in challenging restrictions to civil and political rights, especially during crises. I further suggest that, in contrast to the civil and political rights sphere, (3) human rights NGOs offer little ‘value added’ in the field of economic and social rights in the global North. I conclude by proposing that human rights serve their most useful function when they protect those who few others are willing to defend, such as the vector of disease, the terrorist and the criminal. 

 Seyhan argues 

 The election of Donald Trump in the USA, the vote in the UK to leave the EU (‘Brexit’), and electoral advances by far-right politicians in Europe have prompted widespread soul-searching among human rights advocates. The implications of the rise of ‘populists’ for the future of human rights has been the subject of vigorous debate by scholars—including in this journal—and practitioners. During my time at Amnesty International, similar debates took place in working groups and planning meetings. How should human rights NGOs tackle what Amnesty International has called the rising ‘politics of demonization’ and the perceived existential threat that it poses to the international human rights system? 

While differences of opinion naturally exist, there is one answer to this question that has galvanized human rights advocates more than any other. It was partly articulated by Alston (2017) and can be summarized crudely as follows: The human rights system faces an existential threat. Countries who once championed human rights are now openly questioning their legitimacy. Inequality and exclusion are at least partly to blame. People who feel ‘badly done by as a result of … globalization-driven economic change’ have a sense of ‘fear and resentment’ that is effectively capitalized by ‘populist’ leaders (ibid: 6). Most people feel they ‘have no stake in the human rights enterprise’ which exists to protect ‘“asylum seekers”, “felons”, [and] “terrorists”’ (ibid.), in part because NGOs have focused on the rights of marginalized minorities and not widespread economic and social rights violations. Based on this narrative, many human rights advocates think that any future strategy must include significant work on economic and social rights and must attempt to win working class support. 

Based on my experience working at Amnesty International and later monitoring state repression during the COVID-19 pandemic as Covid State Watch, I believe that international human rights organizations should maintain a focus on civil and political rights in their work on the global North rather than redirecting resources towards work on economic and social rights, for three main reasons, two of which have been highlighted by the pandemic. This short essay briefly introduces the work of Covid State Watch before outlining each of these reasons, presenting them as provocations rather than a fully-fledged strategy. 

I argue that, firstly, the COVID-19 pandemic has revealed and reinforced the vast amount of power, and resulting threat to civil and political rights, that modern states have amassed. Secondly, the pandemic has demonstrated that very few actors with the resources and reach of human rights NGOs are willing to monitor and challenge executive power, especially during crises. Thirdly, human rights practice is far from the best tool to fight inequality and poverty—in fact, human rights NGOs have the potential to crowd out more radical demands for economic justice and thereby to serve reactionary rather than revolutionary ends. 

My argument is based on recognition that international human rights NGOs exist (whether they should is the subject of a different debate), that they have power (a brand, access to decision-makers, staff, money, and so on), and that, having weathered many crises, they are unlikely to disappear soon. When referring to NGOs, I mean large international human rights organizations like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch. My reflections in this essay are limited to the global North because I have mostly worked in and on Europe and have limited experience of human rights advocacy elsewhere. Finally, I use the distinction between economic and social rights and civil and political rights as shorthand for different areas of work by NGOs, acknowledging that there is an economic dimension to every right.

Official Secrets

The UK Law Commission (counterpart of the ALRC) report on official secrets comments 'Reform is needed to bring the law into the 21st century and protect the United Kingdom from espionage (spying) and unauthorised disclosures (leaks)'. The report was tabled in Parliament yesterday. 

The Commission states 

 In the last twenty years, new communications and data technology has changed the nature of espionage and leaks. For example, hostile states can conduct cyber-attacks on the UK through multiple servers across multiple countries. At the same time, the potential impact of spying and leaks has increased: a single disclosure could contain terabytes of data. 

However, the Official Secrets Acts 1911, 1920, 1939 and 1989 that help protect the country from spying and leaks are outdated and no longer fit for purpose. The Law Commission’s recommendations aim to ensure the law can protect against the nature and scale of modern threats and allow Government to respond effectively to illegal activity. At the same time, our aim is for the recommendations to be proportionate, in line with human rights obligations and ensure that Government can be held to account.

Its recommendations include: 

  • Updating the archaic language of the Official Secrets Acts to ensure the legislation is fit for purpose. For example, we recommend replacing the word “enemy” with “foreign power”, which would include terrorist organisations and companies controlled by a state. 
  •  For prosecutions of public servants (crown servants and contractors) who leak information, we recommend removing the requirement to prove that the leak caused damage. Instead, the offence should require proof of a sufficiently culpable mental state (which should be decided by Parliament). For example, knowledge or belief that the disclosure would cause damage. 
  •  For cases of espionage carried out against the UK from abroad, we recommend that an offence would be committed irrespective of whether the individual is a British citizen, provided there is a significant link between the individual’s behaviour and the interests of the United Kingdom. 
  •  A statutory public interest defence should be available for anyone – including civilians and journalists – charged with an unauthorised disclosure offence under the Official Secrets Act 1989. If it is found that the disclosure was in the public interest, the defendant would not be guilty of the offence. 
  •  Public servants and civilians should be able to report concerns of wrongdoing to an independent statutory commissioner who would be tasked with investigating those concerns effectively and efficiently. 
  •  Parliament should consider increased maximum sentences for the most serious offences in relation to leaks. However, the Law Commission does not make a recommendation on what new maximum sentences should be.
In discussing espionage offences the Commission comments 

The Russia report, published by the Intelligence and Security Committee of Parliament in July 2020, has highlighted the need for reform of the 1911 Official Secrets Act to ensure that espionage can be properly prosecuted. We agree. 
 
In our Report, we make a number of specific recommendations, which are designed to modernise the law and ensure that it addresses the nature of the threat of espionage now facing the UK. For example: Currently, a person who is not a British national or public servant doesn’t commit an offence if they engage in espionage against the UK whilst abroad. In the modern, interconnected world, in which many acts of espionage are committed from abroad, this definition is too restrictive. The offences should be expanded so that they can be committed irrespective of the individual’s nationality. Instead, the test should be whether there is a “significant link” between the individual’s behaviour and the interests of the United Kingdom. “ 
 
Significant link” should be defined to include where the conduct relates to a site or data owned or controlled by the UK government – e.g. data held on foreign servers. 
 
Finally, we recommend that the new espionage statute contains modern language and updated provisions. In addition to replacing “enemy” with “foreign power”, we recommend replacing the terms “sketch, plan, model, note and secret official pass word and code word” with “document, information or other article” (which should be defined to include any program or data held in electronic form) when outlining the type of information that could be stolen. 
 
We make no recommendations about the registration of foreign agents, which was raised in the ISC’s Russia report, because this was not a matter that we addressed in our Consultation Paper.

 In relation to unauthorised disclosure offences it offers recommendations to reform the Official Secrets Act 1989 to improve protections against leaks. The recommendations include: 

  •  For public servants, offences should not continue to require proof of damage, as is currently the case. Instead, they should require proof of a sufficiently culpable mental state, by which we mean, for example, proof of the defendant’s knowledge or belief that the disclosure would cause damage. It would be for Parliament to determine in new legislation what the mental fault element should be. 
  • For Parliament to consider increased maximum sentences for the most serious offences related to unauthorised disclosures. We recommend this because the current maximum of two years doesn’t always reflect the damage that a disclosure could cause, or the culpability of an individual. However, the Law Commission does not make a recommendation on what new maximum sentences should be. Similar to the espionage offences, an unauthorised disclosure offence is not committed if the disclosure of information is made by someone who isn’t a British citizen or crown servant and is abroad when they make the disclosure. Therefore, a UK government contractor who is not a British citizen would be guilty of the offence if the disclosure was made in the UK but not if the disclosure was made abroad. We therefore recommend that sections 1-4 of the Official Secrets Act 1989 be amended to make clear that an offence is committed when an unauthorised disclosure is made by a government contractor abroad irrespective of whether they are a British citizen. 
For unauthorised disclosures in the public interest 

 The Law Commission’s recommendations offer protections for disclosures that are made in the public interest, ensuring that the UK meets its obligations under Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights, concerning the right to freedom of expression. It is important to stress that we are not making recommendations on the fine detail of such a defence, as we did not consult on the area and believe that there are matters central to that defence that are essentially political. Further work will therefore need to be done to establish a workable defence. We have recommended this model on the basis that this is the what Article 10 requires. There are many reasons (such as how the defence might work in practice) why Parliament may wish to go further than what Article 10 requires. 

Our recommendations include: A statutory public interest defence should be available to anyone charged with an offence under the Official Secrets Act 1989 (including civilians and journalists), that they can rely upon in court, if the court found that the disclosure was in the public interest. This would require both the subject matter being disclosed being in the public interest AND the manner of disclosure also being in the public interest. We do not outline which factors define the public interest, as this is a political question and therefore should be determined by Government and Parliament. 

We recommend that an independent, statutory commissioner should be established to receive and investigate allegations of wrongdoing or criminality where otherwise the disclosure of those concerns would constitute an offence under the Official Secrets Act 1989. This would be available to all, although we envisage that it would be used most by public servants. In rare cases where disclosing to the commissioner would not be sufficient to protect the public servant’s Article 10 rights, or they nonetheless disclosed without authorisation, they would of course be entitled to advance a public interest defence in line with the above.

01 September 2020

Digital Platforms

'The Political Power of Platforms: How Current Attempts to Regulate Misinformation Amplify Opinion Power' by Natali Helberger in (2020) 8(6) Digital Journalism 842-854 comments 

This contribution critically reviews the ongoing policy initiatives in Europe to impose greater societal responsibility on social media platforms. I discuss the current regulatory approach of treating social platforms as mere 'intermediaries' of the speech of others and propose a different perspective. Instead of perceiving platforms as intermediaries and facilitators of the speech of others, I view social media platforms as active political actors in their own right, and wielders of considerable opinion power. I will explain how taking the perspective of opinion power throws a very different, and rather alarming light on the recent regulatory initiatives. 

 Helberger argues 

What if … Facebook was a government? It would govern a huge nation. With an expected rise in 2020 to 2.6 billion users, it would connect more people than are governed by any one nation on this planet. These people not only use Facebook to chat, watch videos or read news. They are also citizens with political leanings, interests and the power to vote. They are all united through one platform – a platform that knows more about voters’ personal preferences, political engagement and psychographic trigger points than many governments in this world. If Facebook was a government, it would have its own laws (actually it does). Like any state, platforms also have to organize their citizens, but their laws are not determined by democratically elected parliaments. These laws are given by the platforms to the people who use them, in the form of Terms of Use, Privacy Policies and community guidelines. Contractual freedom is the platform’s fundamental right, and because of the prerogative of contractual freedom, we have largely come to accept that these contracts and terms create quasi-binding rules or a system of micro regulation that, on occasion, can even overrule national laws – at least on the platform. 

Facebook is not a government – yet. Moreover, the current political debate around the regulation of social media platforms in Europe, but also in the US, is still very much framed in terms of governing a set of commercial actors whose business model is to connect and facilitate the speech of their billions of users. In this commentary, I propose a different perspective. Instead of perceiving platforms as intermediaries and facilitators of the speech of others, I view social media platforms as effective political actors in their own right, and wielders of considerable opinion power (defined in Section three below). I will argue that, in media law and policy, we have a long tradition of thinking about and dealing with sometimes dominant opinion power in the media. This is because we understand that opinion power in the media can far too easily translate into political power. I will explain how, when viewed through the lens of opinion power, some of the recent European initiatives on platform governance appear in a new and rather alarming light. Finally, I will make a suggestion for the way forward.

Understandings of GMO and AI

'Extreme opponents of genetically modified foods know the least but think they know the most' by Philip M. Fernbach, Nicholas Light, Sydney E. Scott, Yoel Inbar and Paul Rozin in (2019) 3 Nature Human Behaviour 251–256 reports

There is widespread agreement among scientists that genetically modified foods are safe to consume and have the potential to provide substantial benefits to humankind. However, many people still harbour concerns about them or oppose their use. In a nationally representative sample of US adults, we find that as extremity of opposition to and concern about genetically modified foods increases, objective knowledge about science and genetics decreases, but perceived understanding of genetically modified foods increases. Extreme opponents know the least, but think they know the most. Moreover, the relationship between self-assessed and objective knowledge shifts from positive to negative at high levels of opposition. Similar results were obtained in a parallel study with representative samples from the United States, France and Germany, and in a study testing attitudes about a medical application of genetic engineering technology (gene therapy). This pattern did not emerge, however, for attitudes and beliefs about climate change.

The Introduction to the Monash Data Futures Institute AI For Social Good? Australian public attitudes toward AI and society report by Neil Selwyn, Beatriz Gallo Cordoba, Mark Andrejevic and Liz Campbell states 

 Artificial Intelligence is now influencing almost all aspects of society: employment; manufacturing; telecommunications; banking and finance; health services and even our national security. The abundance of research into the legal, ethical and societal implications of AI across industry and government reflects its potential for an enduring, transformative impact. However, the views of the public remain underrepresented. The Monash Data Futures Institute (in partnership with the Faculties of Law, Education and Arts), is proud to present this first major study of Australian’s attitudes to AI. We believe it to be vital to paving the way for more frequent and systematic contributions of public opinion, to the formation of public policy, shaping the future of AI technology in Australia and educating the public about AI’s benefits and risks 

The report’s findings show very strong public support for the establishment of a new regulatory body to address AI development, as well as support for the increased governance and oversight of AI development through legislation and industry guidelines. The most immediate priority arising from our findings is the development of public education efforts to enhance what might be termed ‘public understandings of AI’. Similarly, our findings point to high levels of public trust in CSIRO, university researchers and bodies such as the Office of the Chief Scientist of Australia and Australian Human Rights Commissioner – therefore suggesting the benefits of these organisations playing prominent public-facing roles in any efforts to manage and oversee AI development in the future. 

Perhaps the most immediate priority arising from our findings is the development of public education efforts to enhance what might be termed ‘public understandings of AI’. Indeed, our survey suggests that many people will change their initial opinions and preconceptions about AI when provided with further information, examples and questions. 

This survey was administered as a scoping study rather than an exercise in providing specific recommendations or agendas for further action. Nevertheless, our findings suggest that further dialog amongst policymakers and the broader Australian ‘AI community’ would be of value.

The report notes 

 The past ten years or so have seen artificial intelligence (AI) technologies become a prominent topic of discussion across Australian society. Yet, the ongoing implementation of these technologies remains a highly contested topic. This Monash Data Futures Institute report presents one of the first comprehensive pictures of Australian public understandings, attitudes and opinions relating to AI and society. 

Based on a nationally-representative public opinion survey of over 2000 Australian adults, the report examines key areas of public understanding, optimism and concern regarding the societal application of AI technologies. As industry and policy-makers continue to develop, implement and manage AI across most areas of Australian society, this report explores the often-overlooked views of the general public – in many ways, the ultimate ‘end users’ of these powerful technologies. 

Key findings from the survey include:

  • While nearly nine-in-ten people are aware of the term, the majority of the Australian public consider themselves to have little knowledge of ‘artificial intelligence’. Just over one-quarter of respondents described themselves as knowing ‘a fair bit’ or ‘a lot’ about AI. These are most likely to be people with computer science or programming expertise, aged between 18–24 years, and/or from households where a language other than English is spoken. 

  • People’s immediate understandings of AI are varied. The most popular ways in which AI is described reflect ideas of robots ‘taking on work’ and/or ‘taking over the world’. That said, many respondents have more sophisticated understandings – for example, making immediate associations with computers being programmed to perform tasks, learning from data, and displaying human-like thinking. 

  • There are relatively high levels of support from the Australian public for the development of AI. Having completed the survey, around two-thirds of respondents (63.5%) stated that they ‘somewhat support’ or ‘strongly support’ the development of AI. In comparison, only 12% describe themselves as either ‘somewhat’ or ‘strongly’ opposed to AI. 

  • Many people will change their opinions on the basis of receiving more information about AI, and being asked to think through issues relating to AI and society. Specifically, we found 43% of the respondents who initially considered themselves ‘opposed’ to the development of AI to shift subsequently to either a ‘neutral’ or ‘supportive’ stance once having engaged with all the survey questions. 

  • We found consistently high levels of support for the use of AI to address social, humanitarian and environmental challenges. Particularly strong support was expressed for the use of AI to address challenges in areas such as health and medicine, alongside environmental challenges and crisis response. The only area with notably lower levels of support is the use of AI to generate culture for popular consumption (such as films, books, music or art). 

  • The majority of the public agrees with the need for industry guidelines and/or new legislation to address all possible harms associated with AI. We find high levels of support for legislation and industry governance related to banning the use of lethal autonomous weapons, ensuring the safety of autonomous vehicles, and protecting data privacy. 

  • The Australian public has high levels of confidence in CSIRO and university researchers to develop AI in the best interests of the public. The lowest levels of confidence to develop AI in the best interests of the public are expressed for Amazon and Facebook. 

  • In terms of managing the development of AI, high levels of confidence are expressed for CSIRO, as well as independent government bodies such as the Office of The Chief Scientist, and the Australian Human Rights Commissioner. 

  • There is very strong support (87.3% of respondents) for establishing a new regulatory body in Australia to govern and promote responsible innovation in the area of AI. 

  • The Australian public is especially hopeful about the potential benefits of AI in healthcare and medicine for advanced diagnosis, development of medicine and disease treatments. Conversely, the prospect of the increased use of AI in the workplace is seen in mixed terms. The most prevalent fears expressed by our survey respondents relate to AI-based surveillance and loss of privacy, alongside the misuse of AI technology by governments and companies acting with malintent. 

  • Notwithstanding specific concerns, our survey finds the Australian public to be generally optimistic about the impact of AI on their lives and society. The majority of the public (69.4%) agrees that AI will do more ‘social good’ than ‘social harm’. 

  • While not necessarily convinced that such technology will ever exist, most people imagine that AI capable of exceeding human intelligence would have an overall ‘good’ or ‘more or less neutral’ impact on humanity. Only 5.1% of respondents see the possible future development of high-level machine intelligence as ‘extremely bad’ and/or maybe even ‘leading to human extinction’.