The big lie: 'You have nothing to fear'

Unless you've been living under a rock, you've heard one of the various jokes that plays off the old theme of the "three biggest lies." The answers, some of them salacious, vary, but center on such themes as "the check is in the mail" or "I'm from the government and I'm here to help you."

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But now checks are becoming a thing of the past. The government is now trusted implicitly and without question by many. So maybe it's time for some new candidates for "biggest lies" in the high-tech, online world.

My choices are as follows: "All systems should be up and running again by Monday morning." "We here at (insert the name of your bank, insurance company, credit card company) respect your privacy." And, "If you're not doing anything wrong, you have nothing to fear."

The final statement is usually trotted out any time there is a further intrusion into our privacy and it usually comes coupled with a supposed benefit we will receive by submitting to yet one more indignity. Until Sept. 11 of last year, privacy invasions were supposed to save us from crime. Now, the proponents have upped the ante to include saving us from terrorism.

When asked to show how the intrusions will help, those supporting these measures often falter. In my own hometown, the city council has fallen for the scam and installed video cameras on downtown streets. I'm still trying, without success, to construct a scenario in which one of these cameras captures a crime or a terrorist act early enough for police to respond to and prevent it.

The sole benefit, then, seems to come from the ability to solve such an occurrence. In the case of terrorism, of course, solving it is too little too late. Terrorists usually kill themselves along with their victims and don't mind leaving behind clues. In the case of crimes, solving them would depend on whether the movable cameras were pointed in the right direction at the right time and zoomed in to a proper magnification to get a usable photo -- a small chance at best.

As the case in favor of the cameras begin to crumble, those pushing them bring out the last and, they think, indisputable argument: "Well, if you're not doing anything wrong, you have nothing to fear."

I have to admit that the statement is a show-stopper, but not because it's really indisputable. The flaws in it are so many and so varied that I wonder where to begin and whether it's worth it. I always try to operate from Mark Twain's observation: "You can't reason someone out of something they weren't reasoned into." My suspicion always is that many people who use this argument haven't really thought it through, despite the fact it has been the mantra of almost every totalitarian regime, and has subsequently been found to be false.

My objections fall roughly into four categories. At the risk of alliteration abuse, I call these perceptual, political, practical, and philosophical.

One of the most obvious is the perceptual. Those who talk the most about doing something wrong assume that the operative definition of "wrong" will be one that they share. The thought never even enters their mind that some day the power might shift, and that they might become a member of some minority constituency. Things that they -- and the people in power -- now think of as harmless and benign might come to be seen as "wrong" by someone who can use invasive technology against them.

This is the same concept ignored by people who want the government to be intrusive in other areas. Those who stump for government-sponsored public prayer, for example, usually imagine that the prayer invoked will be theirs, or at least one they can tolerate. They recoil at the idea that the prayer might come from someone they find theologically unacceptable. They refuse to believe that the tide might turn, despite centuries of evidence that it does.

From the political point of view, our whole national ethic is based on having a government that is non-intrusive, at least without some evidence of wrongdoing. This is the foundation of our Bill of Rights. This is why the police can't just come into your house and search it on a whim to see if you're doing something wrong. This is also why the police can't stop you on the street without cause, turn you upside down, and shake you to see what comes out of your pockets.

Although it's easy to make an argument that video surveillance makes sense and causes few privacy concerns in some applications, that doesn't justify its widespread use on people going about their daily business, especially in the absence of a clear expected benefit.

Surveillance proponents are quick to point out that we tolerate video surveillance in banks, and they're absolutely right. We do. But banks are high-risk operations and the cameras offer some measure of protection to the employees, the customers, and the money. We should probably also have them at nuclear power plants, water treatment facilities, and at airport perimeters.

In each of these cases, the security benefit is high and outweighs any potential abuse of the system. Bank security tapes are generally viewed only in the case of a problem. Anyone trying to enter a nuclear power plant or scale the fence at the airport ought to expect video surveillance as part of the risk. But to have the local police on a "fishing expedition" on Main Street seems to go against something basic to our form of government.

From a practical viewpoint, innocent acts don't always appear innocent. As I said in a previous column (see " Personal knowledge: Do we know too much or too little? ",) when someone knows too little about us it can be as bad as someone knowing too much. Isolated facts, taken out of context, can lead to erroneous conclusions and can be damaging. The antidote is to provide even more information, which then leads to even less privacy.

There are many things we don't want known that are perfectly innocent. Take my town, for example, with its plethora of surveillance cameras. Suppose a politician whom the police oppose accompanies a friend to an AA meeting, purely for support. Now, the police have a videotape of him coming and going from the meeting and begin the rumor that he is an alcoholic.

The politician is now faced with the unpleasant task of denying he is an alcoholic, even though there is nothing "wrong" in having a drinking problem and seeking treatment for it. The rumor, however, can be politically damaging -- and the denial could be even more harmful, especially when the rumor mongers produce video "evidence." Even if the poor friend surrenders his own anonymity and comes forward to explain the situation, the damage will probably already be done. The politician did nothing "wrong," but had plenty to fear.

The most compelling argument, however, is the philosophical. Our dignity as persons is wrapped up in our autonomy and our ability to control who has access to us, whether physical contact or video surveillance. If we cannot live our daily lives without our every innocent and trivial movement being recorded and analyzed by government agents, then we have lost something significant. To the extent that the government spies on us, it can control us.

Every time our right to self-control is infringed upon, especially when that infringement comes from the government, we need to have a countervailing benefit, or expected benefit, that outweighs the harm from the intrusion. Those who want to infringe bear the burden of proving that such a proportion exists.

Have another idea? Join our Ethics Matters forum at www.infoworld.com/forums/ethics or write to me at ethics_matters@infoworld.com.