Tuesday, March 01, 2016 

Envy, America and civil liberties.

They do things differently in America.  There, various gullible fools and paid shills (surely highly principled and privacy conscious individuals? Ed.) have been protesting outside the FBI building against the demand that Apple break the encryption on the recovered iPhone of one of the San Bernardinho attackers.  Both sides, it's fair to say, are chancing their arm: the FBI hasn't provided the slightest of evidence that Syed Rizwan Farook's phone contains anything they won't have already accessed or found from all the other material they've seized, much less a link to possibly imagined accomplices. Their real aim seems to be to strike a blow against the movement towards encryption post-Snowden, and they've done so by biding their time, waiting for a highly unrepresentative hard case where they've figured the public will (mostly) be on their side.

Apple for their part, far from making a principled stand, have decided this is yet another issue on which they can draw a line between themselves and the "opposition", despite sharing all the rest of their values. Masters of marketing as they are, continuing to succeed in presenting their products as highly aspirational and exclusive despite every other person having one, this time they figure they can occupy the moral high ground and further ingratiate themselves with the tech-obsessive, civil libertarian crowd. They're doing this through an astroturf campaign that presents a tax avoiding, cheap Chinese labour using corporation as far superior to a government, but still, right?

Had say the FBI been more set on keeping tabs on actual extremists than entrapping innocents, they might have had more chance of preventing San Bernardinho.  Likewise, it seems a bit rich of Apple to pretend to care about privacy and the implications of the FBI's order considering just how easy they made it to "hack" into iClouds, even if Apple is nowhere near hypocritical on such matters as Facebook and Google are, making their money almost solely through the monetisation of the data we share with them.

This said, the FBI vs Apple battle has a glamour and definable quality to it that the opponents of the Investigatory Powers Bill would kill for.  In a fight where the opposition is arguing about something intangible, and when a majority of the British public have long been prepared to give up a little privacy/liberty in return for the promise of more security, the Home Office knows the odds are stacked in its favour.  That confidence can be seen in the changes made to the now published bill since the draft was made available in November: advised by an unusually assertive Intelligence and Security Committee to make more clear the privacy protections, the Home Office has done so by inserting "privacy" into a single heading.  The actual wording underneath is identical.

The news release sent out last night was clear about how seriously the various reviews by the ISC, David Anderson and the bill's own joint committee had been taken, as well as all the other submissions from interested parties, and how changes had been made accordingly.  Strangely then, the bill seems barely distinguishable from the draft version.  What is new is that since November the police seem to have realised they weren't being allowed to join the data intercepting party, and so now they too will be allowed to hack in certain circumstances, as well as access internet connection records (ICRs) across the board, rather than just those relating to "illegal websites" and communication services.

According to the Home Office, that this power wasn't included in the draft was merely an oversight, as the police are already getting their hack on.  Regardless, it helps with the example of how retained ICRs could be used, like in the case of "Amy" detailed in the operational case (PDF).  Amy is 15, and impressionable.  One morning she disappears: her parents ring her mobile but it is switched off.  Luckily, the police via an ICR request discover the use of a particular messaging app, along with social media.  They contact those providers, and discover she contacted a particular individual, who less fortunately was using a false name.  But wait!  He did register an account with a genuine mobile phone number, which the police make communications data requests for, and discover he had contacted a hotel chain on.  A live booking is found, the police descend, and Amy is saved from a slavering 40-year-old with previous child exploitation convictions!

If this seems more than a little fatuous, then it and the other examples of how the new powers could be used similarly don't explain why ICRs need to be retained for 12 months, as all relate to immediate, live investigations.  The majority of the examples cited involve child sexual exploitation, or how more suspected paedophiles could be identified if only ICRs with their additional detail were retained.  It's fine to argue this would be the case, but it simply doesn't follow that prosecutions would be the result: that would require further police resources, which are not being provided, and also that additional evidence would be discovered as a result, as an IP address accessing a website at a particular time isn't enough on its own.

Where the government has deigned to provide more substantial evidence to back its arguments is on bulk interception (PDF), which is odd as it isn't quite as controversial as the retention of ICRs.  This raises just as many questions as it answers, however: bulk interception we're informed has "played a significant part in every major counter terrorism investigation of the last decade, including in each of the seven terrorist attack plots disrupted since November 2014".  Indeed, the case studies provided claim that bulk interception found the liquid bomb plotters; the 2007 beheading plot group; and played a key role in the disruption of the plot to attack the London Stock Exchange among other targets in 2010.  These are fairly remarkable admissions, if that is they're accurate.  One wonders if there aren't some police officers or informers who'd be more than a little miffed if they were aware of just how much emphasis is being put on bulk interception when previously no such claims have been made.  Is this a sudden burst of openness, an attempt to at least try to meet the requests of the reviewers or something more sinister?

While some of the privacy protections have then been ever so slightly tightened, and the government has also published the codes of practice, the fundamentally objectionable intention of retaining data on every single one of us, accessible without a warrant to the police and other state bodies excluding local authorities remains.  These are powers not deemed necessary anywhere else in the world, with little in the way of safeguards to ensure they are not abused, or indeed any true reassurance that the bulk interception powers obtained and operated without debate until the Snowden revelations have not been misused.  Having rushed through the draft process, with the reviewing bodies working overtime to get their recommendations heard, the government now wants to rush through the parliamentary stage in similar fashion.  They are doing so against the drumbeat of the EU referendum, knowing little other than the Budget is going to garner attention between now and June the 23rd.  They at the same time smartly made clear today that freedom of information will not be getting restricted, delighting journalists, while also claiming to have strengthened hacks' protections from cops snooping on their sources.  Wish that both sides could lose as I do in America, you can't been help envy how at the very least the casual loss of privacy and rise of surveillance prompts debate and protest.  Here?  Nothing except whimpers from the usual suspects.

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Wednesday, November 04, 2015 

The securocrats win again! The securocrats win again!

Last week, you won't have missed the release of the latest James Bond film, Spectre.  By most accounts it's quite good, although there's always the lingering suspicion that as Bond is pretty much the only distinctly British franchise still going that pulls in any money, the critics tend to go rather soft on it.

Last week, as you might have missed and in what was either an example of serendipity, good fortune, or grotesque cynicism, also saw the intelligence agencies come out from the shadows as never before.  The Times was given unprecedented access to GCHQ's "doughnut" home in Cheltenham, hacks apparently free to poke around, ask questions and see how there's absolutely nothing to be suspicious about when it comes to our friends intercepting and sifting through bulk data.  Not quite as unprecedented but still relatively novel was a further speech by head of MI5 Andrew Parker, again making clear just how we have nothing to fear from his organisation's request for the laws governing his operation to be updated, sentiments reminiscent of his live interview on the Today programme a month previous.  This charm offensive, very different to the previous attempt at one which rather fell at the first hurdle when the new head of GCHQ essentially said that the major internet firms were just as bad as the terrorists, has continued up to and including today.  Despite GCHQ coming round and smashing up the Guardian's hard drive with the Snowden files on it, the paper has found space for a senior GCHQ officer called "Peter" to correct some unfortunate "myths" that have arisen.  He concludes, obligatorily, with a reference to Bletchley Park.

The publication today of the draft Investigatory Powers Bill would never had occurred had it not been for Snowden's revelations, something that Theresa May and the government would rather chew glass than recognise.  Then again, it's almost as if Snowden didn't happen anyway.  Despite today's bill outlining precisely what GCHQ especially and the security services as a whole were getting up to, as it had to thanks to the government recognising that RIPA was no longer fit for purpose, the change is now everything will be totally above board rather than hidden behind layers of secrecy and obfuscation.  The bulk interception via Tempora, the hacking and breaking into of servers and the computers of targets, the gathering, both overt and covert of "bulk personal datasets", it all remains, despite any cautious remarks made by David Anderson in his report.  The other innovations are those to oversight, with the creation of a single commissioner to act as reviewer of terrorism legislation and effective spook watchdog, and the "double lock", whereby ministers will need to also have the OK of a "judicial commissioner" to authorise an interception warrant.

Considering the major spin operation that went before the publication of this bill, with myriad leaks and hacks invited in for high-level briefings, just how quickly the new "double lock" has unravelled is something to behold.  David Davis and others have realised that rather than it being a case of the "judicial commissioners" reviewing the evidence, as the minister will have before granting permission, all they'll essentially be doing is examining whether the correct protocol has been followed.  Barring an alteration, they will be little more than a rubber stamp.  This is in line with the Intelligence and Security Committee report and sort of follows the compromise outlined in the RUSI report, but is in contradiction of Anderson who advised full judicial oversight.  Now that the bill has finally been published, beyond outlining his role Anderson seems to be taking a step back, leaving parliament to make its decision.

Whether that's entirely wise when Andy Burnham before even seeing the full bill declared that it wasn't a return of the snoopers' charter, wasn't an act authorising mass surveillance is very much open to question.  Nick Clegg, who blocked the attempt back in 2012 to ram through this bill's predecessor was also apparently mollified.  And indeed, it would be churlish to deny that the government hasn't been forced by the work of Anderson and others to justify exactly what powers it wants and set out its case: the documents published alongside the bill are voluminous, to the point where anyone trying to make sense of them has been all but crushed under the digital weight of all the PDFs.

Key to the most controversial new measure, the requirement for ISPs to retain 12 months worth of data on which sites and services every one of us use, accessible without a warrant to the police, security services and everyone except your local councillor Tom Cobley, is the operational case (PDF).  Provided within are examples of just what the authorities are currently unable to do due to their current powers; there is not a single case study provided relating to terrorism.  Instead it focuses on the other standard justification, preventing or investigating child sexual exploitation, with a couple of other examples concerning organised crime and fraud tacked on at the end.  As the police cannot simply ask Facebook, Google or Twitter on the off chance if the person they are investigating on the basis of the communications data they have obtained under the current laws also used their services, as this would not be "proportional" or meet the current necessity tests, the only alternative seemingly is to get ISPs to retain the IP addresses visited instead.

If it doesn't immediately follow how if the former is not proportional wholesale retention is, the answer fairly obviously is that going through the same hoops is rather tiresome for the police and others.  That, and since the Snowden revelations cooperation with overseas based service operators have been grudging at best, it's the obvious recourse: go after the organ grinders, not the monkeys.  If it still doesn't make sense that this data will be available to the police without a warrant given the potential for abuse, nor that a whole year's worth of data will be expected to be retained, data that ISPs currently do not retain, then sadly the answer seems to be the point is this is all about the potential for fishing expeditions.  Related in the operational case is that of 6025 referrals to the National Centre for Missing and Exploited Children, 14% or 862 could have been taken forward if ICR data had been retained.  More pertinent however is that 3470 referrals contained both fixed and dynamic IP data.  As it is not clear whether these referrals would also contain the specific time one of these IPs accessed the indecent images in the referral, the government appears to be proposing the police have the capability to go through the whole log for that IP.  The potential is there for the police not just to act on that specific referral, but also on any other "illegal" or questionable websites that have been visited.  There are plenty of examples of individuals being arrested for one offence, only for that to be dropped and then charges to be brought over "extreme pornography" following searches of seized devices, including in cases where the evidence has been highly questionable or where they were extenuating circumstances.

And then, of course, there's the potential for this cache of data to be misused, abused or hacked.  Despite Theresa May claiming the police would not be able to make a request to find out if someone visited a specific website, Adam Banks points out the bill and fact sheets suggest the powers are far broader than that.  The analogy made to an itemised phone bill is a nonsense: phone numbers are just that, numbers.  We share things with our ISPs that we would have never have done previously with our mere phone provider: the URLs up to the first slash we visit might not reveal entirely our darkest secrets, desires, fears, but they most certainly give more than an inkling.  This is the data that the government thinks should be made accessible to state bodies, excluding local authorities, without a warrant.  If this isn't a mass surveillance programme, then what on earth would amount to one?

Except, typically, today's new power won't affect the terrorists and the more teched up crims.  They'll already be using Tor or other darknets, sat behind proxies or VPNs.  That the operational case doesn't mention terrorism is the giveaway: those who really do have something to hide know that the authorities are out to get them and act accordingly.  Those caught up will be the curious, the idiots, those who previously would have been detected anyway, if slightly further down the line.  Anyone who wasn't aware of what's on the cards now will be, further reducing the efficacy of the new law.

Ministers seem to be relying on how as a nation we have always been far less concerned about privacy and the actions of our intelligence agencies than either the Americans, aware of the scandals involving the FBI and CIA, or the Germans, living with the legacy of the Nazis and then the Stasi.  It is Bletchley Park, Alan Turing, Enigma, Bond, rather than Peter Wright, the infiltration of groups on the left, the remaining questions over collusion in Northern Ireland, the refusal until very recently to operate in so much as half light, let alone be as open as the security services can be.  As David Allan Green has identified, the strategy has been to try and buy off those most likely to make a fuss.  The Wilson doctrine might have been declared illegal, but a judge and the prime minister will have to sign off before any MP can have their communications intercepted.  The media meanwhile can be reassured that their sources have been given more protection than has been the case, not that the press other than the usual coalition of Guardian, Independent and FT was likely to say anything in opposition anyway.  When it comes to ordinary folk, those with the most to lose from these plans, only the traditional voices, those derided and ignored before, are speaking up.  Judicial oversight of warrants might yet be tightened, but the securocrats have played a blinder on everything else.  Once again, they've won. 

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Monday, June 15, 2015 

Magna Carta and all that.

I'd like to think we can all agree it takes a special kind of cretin to use the 800th anniversary of Magna Carta, the document that established all are equal under the law, to argue in fact only they can "restore the reputation of human rights".  Considering the chief argument being made for a British Bill of Rights is it would prevent criminals, terrorists and other unworthy sorts from invoking Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights, that of the right to a private and family life in order to avoid deportation, although how this would be accomplished without also leaving said convention at the same time as ripping up the Human Rights Act has never been answered, it does put in a whole new perspective David Cameron's decision to say it was "ironic" that "the good name of human rights has sometimes become distorted and devalued".  Call me a stuffy pedant, but I'd say it was beyond ironic, in fact an example of a politician without the slightest sense of shame to use Magna Carta as a backdrop to say some will be more equal than others under the law if and when he gets his way.

Then again, Magna Carta has always been a symbol rather than anything real in any case.  Everything you think you know about it is almost certainly wrong, and as Jack of Kent so admirably argues, there is no contradiction in politicians and other worthies celebrating a document that cannot be relied on in court while wanting to repeal one on which you can.  Rights in the view of so many are things you can expect to be given to you as hard and fast as you can take them, and if you can't, well hard cheese.  It's also noticeable historians chuckle and roll their eyes at all this nonsense, knowing full well that Magna Carta sure didn't stop King after King from doing whatever the hell they liked, while politicians, often in the main law or PPE graduates, go into raptures over it.  Not all of them, obviously, but a fair number.

Cameron's dedication to destroying an act that does work, frankly all too well for the government and establishment's liking, is of a piece with the fondness of the spooks for the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act 2000.  Described by the independent reviewer of terrorism legislation last week as "undemocratic" and "intolerable", with the situation in which we are currently in deemed "unnecessary", I wondered if the intelligence agencies wouldn't finally see sense and embrace David Anderson's recommendations, couched as they were in language and arguments that mollified libertarians like me while still providing the agencies with the powers they say they need.

Yesterday's front page piece in the Sunday Times rather answered such thinking.  According to a number of anonymous sources, the cache of files taken by Edward Snowden has been successfully cracked by both the Chinese and Russians, leading to MI6 needing to extract a number of agents for fear they could have been killed as a result.  The entire report, without needing to read the responses from those in the know, such as Glenn Greenwald, Ryan Gallagher and the Graun, is bollocks of the hairiest, most obvious kind.  Snowden apparently has blood on his hands, and yet there is no evidence of anyone being harmed.  Que?

You don't have to question how the Russians and Chinese could have gained access to the files when the only people in possession of them are journalists, Snowden himself having destroyed his copies after he handed them over, something not previously questioned by anyone.  Nor does another howler, like the precise figure of 1.7m documents accessed by our enemies when the NSA previously admitted it simply didn't and couldn't know how many files Snowden had taken give the game away.  It's how crude and transparent the sourcing is: when Seymour Hersh questions the official version of events in the killing of bin Laden, his reliance on unnamed intelligence sources is ridiculed.  Hersh's recent exposes may be nonsense, but they are no less believable than a supposed newspaper of record (stop sniggering) noting down everything briefed to it by a government and then reprinting it verbatim.

The "exclusive" given to the Sunday Times is revenge, plain and simple.  David Anderson confirmed in his report that without Snowden, absolutely nothing would have changed.  The Intelligence and Security Committee had never asked precisely how GCHQ monitored the internet, so it hadn't thought it necessary to keep them up to date with things like Tempora or their relationship with the NSA.  Anderson's recommendation that judges review and authorise warrants rather than politicians raises the possibility they might be slightly more critical in their appraisal than ministers have previously, and that would never do.

There's also the simple spite factor, that and letting everyone know how they might react in the future.  The smashing up of the Guardian's copy in this country of the Snowden files was utterly pointless when it came to "ending the debate", but it carried with it the message of acting because they could.  Smearing Snowden further and claiming those dastardly Rushkies and Chinese have got their hands on the locations of our brave spies is meant to reinforce how so much as talking about things we're not supposed to know is to damage our security.  You might think you've won this round, it says, with the Anderson report, but just you wait.  When all else fails, appeal to the court of public opinion, with its memories of Bletchley Park and hagiographies of Alan Turing.

It's utterly pitiful behaviour, and yet it shows how worried the government and the securocrats are.  They've done everything they can to deny there is any need for a debate or to worry about what those in the shadows are up to, when even the American authorities have in the main accepted the powers they had went too far in some areas.  Instead of going down the same path, the Anderson report having given them the chance to back down without losing much in the way of face, the age old tactic of anonymous briefing to a trusted hack and newspaper is the response.  When you can't make the perfectly reasonable argument that we can't foresee the future, can't know what the next threat might be, and so have to be ready for every eventuality without resorting to outright lies, there is clearly a problem with accountability.  They saw back in 1215 that absolute power corrupts absolutely.  800 years on some still need to learn that lesson.

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Thursday, June 11, 2015 

When maintaining the status quo feels like something to celebrate.

David Anderson QC's review of the various laws authorising and regulating the interception of data by the state is as good as we possibly could have hoped for.  Compared to the work of parliament's Intelligence and Security Committee, well, there's no comparison.  Not a single redaction for a start, very little in the way of obfuscation or outright distraction, regardless of how transparent those attempts to muddy the debate have been, and outright recognition that if it had not been for the whistleblowing of Edward Snowden, we would still know almost nothing about the way GCHQ hoovers up our data with the very minimum of oversight.  Anderson still, contradictorily, criticises Snowden, but that is to be expected.  The independent reviewer of terrorism clearly does not swallow the bluster from the security services that major damage has been done to them, despite accepting "national security" has been affected.  When national security is defined so widely, and presumably in this instance includes damage to the reputation of said security services, it could hardly be otherwise.

He does nonetheless accept the pleas of GCHQ for the bulk interception of data to be allowed to continue.  He did at least manage to persuade the powers that be to disclose the general outline of the examples previously provided to the ISC for why bulk interception, which if nothing else gives us something of an idea as to what we're giving up in terms of privacy in order to prevent.

This is not to say the examples given are beyond question (they're contained in Annex 9 of the report): most eye-catching is the claim that without bulk data, an airline worker with links to al-Qaida would not have been convicted.  As Joshua Rozenberg writes, this almost certainly refers to the case of Rajib Karim, who was in email contact with the then leader of al-Qaida in Yemen, Anwar al-Awlaki, since killed in a US drone strike.  You would of course expect someone like al-Awlaki to be under surveillance, although how precisely GCHQ identified Karim we can't know.  Nor can we know how exactly "bulk data" is being defined in this instance: yes, Karim might not have been identified if al-Awlaki also hadn't been targeted, presumably under the rules governing bulk interception rather than as a specific target, but that's rather different to how our "external communications", i.e. the use of any website not hosted in the UK are considered by the intelligence agencies to fall under bulk interception as a whole.  Two of the case studies provided do not so much as relate to subsequent law enforcement action in this country at all.  While this is evidence of the efficacy of bulk interception in cases where intelligence or what we would normally consider to be standard surveillance techniques have started off the investigation, it hardly convinces that the ordinary sifting through of the vast amounts of data being collected will ever on its own save lives, or outweigh the potential abuse of such access to personal data.


That aside, the report on the whole is so well argued that if the intelligence agencies had any sense, they would take a good hard look at Anderson's recommendations and five principles, of minimising no-go areas, limited powers, rights compliance, clarity and transparency and a unified approach and adopt them as their own.  Anderson writes of just how co-operative everyone was with him, as you would expect, and yet these are the same agencies that once free of the presence of those reviewing them go back to demanding redactions in reports, that over-the-top levels of secrecy be maintained and the delivering of self-defeating lectures that we're all so familiar with.  There is in essence absolutely nothing in the report they should disagree with, at least if they realise things can no longer go on as they were, but whether organisations which by their very nature have to be paranoid and constantly on the lookout for new ways to break things can handle such concepts remains unclear.

The problem you suspect will in fact be more with the politicians than the agencies themselves.  Ministers will be loth to give away to judges the authorising of interception warrants, not least because it's another power they'll lose.  So too will it affect their direct line into the agencies, and considering the past at times fractious relationship between the spies and politicians, that's not something necessarily to be welcomed.  Anderson also reiterates the past criticisms of the proposed Data Communications Bill, aka the snoopers' charter, essentially saying the case for it has still to be made, despite "compulsory retention of records of user interaction with the internet" being "useful", as he terms it.  Well yes, useful it would certainly be; as for being justifiable, in the same way as bulk interception is justifiable, not without safeguards far beyond what has been outlined so far.  


All things considered though, especially when we think of how with a Tory majority, a Labour party that looks certain to head back to the right and when the only party remotely interested in civil liberties as a whole has been reduced to a rump, this report in different hands could have been the sum of all fears.  Instead it looks set to merely maintain the status quo.  These days, that feels like a victory.

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