Current and former officers from the Long Beach Police Department in Southern California have told Al Jazeera that their police-issued phones had Tiger Text installed on them.
The Tiger Text app is designed to erase text messages after a set time period. Once the messages have been deleted, they cannot be retrieved - even through forensic analysis of the phone.
The police officers who spoke with Al Jazeera said the confidential messaging system was used to share details of police operations and sensitive personnel issues.
This may be true. But even if this was the full extent of TigerText usage, it's still a problem. Personnel issues can become matters of public interest, especially in civil rights lawsuits. Details of police operations are normally inaccessible to the public, but in rare cases, these too become matters of public interest.
On top of that, there's a good possibility some of these vanished discussions may have been pertinent to criminal trials. Defendants should have the chance to obtain relevant discussions that may help their defense, but Tiger Text ensures information that prosecutors might be obligated to turn over to the defense is now completely inaccessible.
In fact, the Al-Jazeera article quotes two former officers as claiming their superiors told them to use TigerText specifically to prevent conversations from being discoverable. The department has denied giving officers these instructions, but former officers claim the PD's participation in the discovery process is anything but "on the up and up."
The Long Beach PD had more than 100 officers using TigerText to preemptively destroy possible public records and/or evidence. The use of self-destructing messages, if nothing else, violates record preservation laws. Depending on what disappeared into the ether, there's a good chance criminal cases were also affected by the rolling destruction of communications.
The Long Beach Police Department has suspended its use of a mobile texting application that permanently erases messages after civil liberties advocates and media outlets raised concerns that the app could be used to hide evidence useful to the other side in criminal and civil court cases.
In a statement, the city said the decision to halt the use of TigerText came “pending further review of whether the use is consistent with the city’s record retention policy and administrative regulations for the use of mobile devices.”
The PD claims it used TigerText as a stopgap solution when it moved away from Blackberry phones. Supposedly the search for an encrypted messaging system led the LBPD to this program, despite there being plenty of other options on the market in 2014. I guess the built-in autodelete feature was a pleasant bonus. TigerText was originally developed for the medical industry to allow care providers to send sensitive patient information to each other. The self-destruct feature helped hospitals comply with HIPAA regulations -- both by encrypting communications and ensuring records no longer needed were removed from issued phones.
To its credit, the swift abandonment of TigerText means future violations will be minimal. The PD has also promised to release more info about the department's utilization of the messaging app, including which officers and commanders used the app. But the damage that has been done probably can't be undone. If no messages were archived, the last four years of TigerText communications no longer exist. Nothing can be proven one way or another and taxpayers who paid $10,000 a year to help the PD destroy public records will just have to take the department's word that nothing illegal or unconstitutional occurred while TigerText was in use. That's a giant leap of faith most people won't make. If the Long Beach PD didn't have a trust issue before, it definitely has one now.
A public records request sent to the Louisiana State Police has uncovered something disturbing. Although the LSP continues to refuse to release the document in question, it appears this law enforcement agency has been using a bogus list of supposed Antifa members compiled by 8chan users to keep tabs on Americans opposed to Trump.
The public records lawsuit [PDF] filed by Harvard lecturer (and former staff attorney for Orleans Public Defenders) Thomas Frampton on behalf of records requester William Most, alleges law enforcement's refusal to hand over the "antifa.docx" file referenced in obtained emails is an indication the state police actually believe this bogus "Antifa" list -- compiled from a list of signatories to an anti-Trump petition -- is credible enough to be used in ongoing investigations and litigation.
Here's Frampton's summation of the situation, as gleaned from the state police's responses to Most's repeated requests for a copy of the Antifa doc.
On August 27, 2018, while searching through the first batch of 64 emails, Mr. Most noticed several high-ranking LSP officers sharing a document entitled “full list of antifa.docx” in August 2017. The dossier was also shared with non-LSP law enforcement, including an official from the Lafayette Parish Sheriff’s Office.
The LSP “Antifa” emails were sent just days after the conspiracy theory website “8Chan” published a fake dossier of what purported to be a full list of “Antifa.” The hoax was promoted on Neo-Nazi websites like Stormfront. The purported “Antifa” roster contains the names of thousands of ordinary, law-abiding citizens who signed an online petition against President Trump.
LSP has refused to disclose the “full list of antifa.docx” records. The Agency claims that releasing the document could “compromise” an ongoing criminal investigation in which LSP anticipates arrests, and reveal the identity of its “Confidential Informant.”
This suggests two things, neither of which make the LSP look any better. Either it truly believes the hoax doc is real, rather than just names take from an online petition, or it's trying to avoid having to admit it was duped by a confidential informant, even if only temporarily.
The ever-present resistance to transparency by the state police is detailed in the filed motion as well. It's not just the appearance of an undelivered "antifa.docx" file in an email string, but the agency's refusal to meet court-ordered timelines or even begin work on fulfillment when its public records team says it will.
Defendant has completely withheld access to hundreds of records responsive to the Plaintiff's initial and modified request, but this lawsuit deals only with the inspection of five (5) specific records, the attachments to the five emails identified in [Paragraph]l19 of this Petition. Defendant has withheld these records after months of arbitrary and capricious stalling and delay; first negligently, apparently, then intentionally; despite multiple offers by Mr. Most to accept redacted portions of the record; and notwithstanding good-faith pre-litigation efforts by Mr. Most to explain to Louisiana State Police why the records are not exempt from disclosure.
But it's the Antifa doc that's making headlines. Alone it could mean nothing more than something passed around by law enforcement officers and officials before being discarded. Coupled with the LSP's insistence that release of the document would compromise both an investigation and its confidential informant, the refusal to release the docx file suggests the agency has opened investigations predicated on a hoax. However strongly one may feel about the criminality of Antifa's actions, there's nothing in this document justifying investigations and surveillance of people who did nothing more than sign an online petition. If the LSP fell for a hoax and opened investigations based on protected speech (the signing of online petitions), it's going to be facing a lot more litigation in the future.
Last week, the Broward County School Board went after a Florida newspaper, claiming it should be held in contempt of court for publishing information the school district didn't properly redact. The Sun Sentinel obtained a copy of the Parkland school shooter's educational records as the result of a public records suit. Certain information was redacted -- or at least was supposed to be -- to comply with state and federal privacy laws.
What was delivered to the Sun Sentinel by the district had black redaction bars covering two-thirds of the document. Unfortunately, the redactions were merely cosmetic. Anyone with a copy of the PDF could select the "redacted" text in the PDF and paste it into a text editor to see what was supposed to have been withheld. The school board screwed up, making it possibly liable for privacy law violations, but it went to court claiming it was all the Sun Sentinel's fault anyone's privacy got violated.
The Sun Sentinel has now responded -- both with an editorial middle finger and a filing in court. (h/t Brittany Wallman) If everything goes the Sun Sentinel's way, not only will it not face contempt charges (there's been no ruling on the motion, so it appears the judge doesn't believe closing barn doors post-livestock exodus qualifies as an emergency), but might collect some cash from the school district for trying to silence the paper.
In a rush to deflect from its own negligence in publicly disclosing the CEN (Collaborative Educational Network) report at issue in a wholly unsecured format, the School Board now seeks to have this Court find the Sun Sentinel in contempt for exercising their First Amendment rights to truthfully report on a matter of the highest public concern: the exact nature of the special educational services the School District provided (or notably failed to provide) to Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School (“MSD”) shooter Nikolas Cruz—who now stands charged with multiple counts of capital murder. On their face, neither the civil court’s operative July 26, 2018 order (the “Civil Order”)—requiring the School District to disclose a redacted version of the CEN report—nor the criminal court’s August 3, 2018 order (the “Criminal Order”) in any way limited the Sun Sentinel’s ability to publish the report’s contents. Indeed, to have done so would have constituted an unconstitutional prior restraint.
By posting an improperly redacted version of the CEN report to its website for public download, the School District itself may have failed to comply with the court’s orders. In any event, there is no dispute that the Sun Sentinel lawfully obtained the report from the School District’s website and the information sought to be shielded by the redactions. Under such circumstances the law is clear: a First Amendment right to publish firmly attaches and no contempt proceeding may lie.
The motion points out the court never restricted what the paper could publish. Any court-ordered redactions were the responsibility of the school district, which was being sued for refusing to release the report at all. The in camera review conducted determined what could and couldn't be redacted by the school board. It had nothing to do with the Sun Sentinel, which was only the recipient of a document ordered to be produced. The paper acquired the document lawfully -- as did anyone else who downloaded the version with the faulty redaction. It was under no legal obligation to withhold information the school board meant to withhold, but didn't.
Even though the school district claims it handled everything correctly in regards to the Parkland school shooter, the Sun Sentinel points out in its editorial there are a handful of details that show school administrators mishandled situations involving a volatile student.
School officials didn’t properly advise Cruz of his legal options when he was faced with removal from Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School his junior year, leading him to give up special education services.
When Cruz failed to file the required written rejection of special education services, school officials nudged him, writing it up for him to sign.
The district “did not follow through” on Cruz’s subsequent request to return to the therapeutic environment of Cross Creek School for special education students.
The contempt motion looks like nothing more than a punitive move by the school board to punish a news outlet for exposing its mistakes to the world. If this anti-SLAPP motion secures a ruling in favor of the paper, the board's attempt to punish the news outlet for publishing lawfully-obtained documents will put taxpayers on the hook for the paper's legal fees.
A man convicted for fraud makes his second appearance in the Fourth Circuit Appeals Court. The first was an attempt to have his sentence vacated via complaints of prosecutorial misconduct. Gregory Bartko not only discovered a government witness had perjured himself, but during his trial, the prosecution routinely delayed its production of evidence -- something the district court noticed. It didn't result in a new trial, but it did bring judicial hellfire down on the heads of the prosecution team.
The Fourth Circuit's 2013 decision doesn't pull punches.
A cursory review of this Court’s opinions reveals recent consideration of at least three cases involving discovery abuse by government counsel in this district. [...] And this case, which confronts us with three alleged constitutional violations—two instances of withholding discoverable evidence and one choice to leave uncorrected a witness’s false testimony—only adds to the list.
[...]
Mistakes happen. Flawless trials are desirable but rarely attainable. Nevertheless, the frequency of the “flubs” committed by this office raises questions regarding whether the errors are fairly characterized as unintentional…
[Quoting an earlier case involving the same prosecutor's office] “This is a repeat offense by the government. The order is entered by the court requiring disclosure by a certain date, and the government simply ignores it. And their explanation for ignoring it is, ‘I missed it. So what. There’s no prejudice.’ And it just happens again and again.”
Moreover, the government’s responses to queries regarding its practices are less than satisfactory. For example, in this case, when asked at oral argument about its failure to correct Scott Hollenbeck’s testimonial misstatement regarding promises he had received, the government suggested that at the time Hollenbeck made the misstatement, trial counsel had no recollection of the promises made to him. But as Judge Keenan aptly noted, such an idea “just strains credulity.” [...] And here, when we gave counsel an opportunity to correct her farfetched assertion, she refused. Faced with such behavior, we must conclude that this office is uninterested in placating concerns about its practices.
In this case, the multiple prosecutorial "errors" failed to undermine the case against Bartko, resulting in the government getting away with multiple due process violations. The court notes this is the government acting in bad faith and rolling the dice that the presented case will survive its misconduct.
Remedies elude defendants because discovery violations ultimately prove immaterial to the verdict. But that is not the true problem. The problem is that the government appears to be betting on the probability that reams of condemning evidence will shield defendants’ convictions on appeal such that at the trial stage, it can permissibly withhold discoverable materials and ignore false testimony.
The court noted the violations may have been "harmless" in the context of this specific case, but they are far from harmless in terms of due process. The appeals court asked the DOJ's Office of Professional Responsibility to investigate the US Attorney's office in North Carolina -- especially prosecutor Clay Wheeler's [ed: oh, the irony available at that link] -- repeated flouting of discovery rules and orders.
Five years later, Bartko is receiving his second opinion from the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals -- this time pertaining to the DOJ's repeated refusal to hand over documents, specifically those related to the OPR's investigation of the prosecutor's office involved in his criminal case. The DOJ handed over a few documents listing Bartko as the "complainant," but for everything related to the court-requested investigation it gave him a Glomar.
The court is about as impressed with the OPR's arguments as it was with prosecutor Clay Wheeler and the US Attorney's Office during its last discussion with Bartko. From the opinion [PDF]:
Because Exemption 7(C) shields from disclosure “records or information compiled for law enforcement purposes” that “could reasonably be expected to constitute an unwarranted invasion of personal privacy,” 5 U.S.C. § 552(b)(7)(C), to invoke Glomar, OPR had to make a threshold showing that the FOIA request seeks records “compiled for law enforcement purposes.” OPR also bore the burden of making an across-the-board showing that the privacy interest the government asserts categorically outweighs any public interest.
[...]
In defense of its sweeping Glomar response, OPR offered only a bare-bones declaration that “[t]he records requested by [Bartko] from OPR consist of complaints or allegations of misconduct which, if they exist, would have been compiled as part of OPR’s investigations of Department of Justice attorneys who are alleged to have committed specific acts of professional misconduct which, if proved, could result in civil or criminal penalties.” J.A. 207. That is not even in the ballpark.
Not only that, but the OPR's own statements on its investigatory process made it clear most cases are closed quickly due to lack of evidence and those that survive are shopped out to other offices to handle reprimands, etc. As the court notes, this disconnects OPR from its firmly-held illusion that it possesses "law enforcement" info.
[The] description of OPR’s review process reveals just how attenuated its “law enforcement” function is. For starters, most matters do not even result in an investigation, making a finding of law-enforcement-triggering misconduct implausible in the vast majority of cases. That summary treatment seems to have been what was accorded to the Fourth Circuit’s referral in Wheeler’s case because there is no record evidence or attestations from OPR indicating that they interviewed witnesses or requested additional documents for review.
The OPR also claimed any release of investigation records would violate prosecutor Clay Wheeler's privacy. The court says there's a slim possibility that might be true, but the DOJ has provided no reason for it to believe these assertions.
Much like its vaporous justification for claiming that the requested documents constituted law-enforcement records, OPR just sweepingly asserted that the disclosure of any record regarding any allegation of misconduct would be an unwarranted invasion of Wheeler’s privacy. OPR ignores altogether its obligation to specifically identify the privacy interest at stake, which can vary based on many factors, including frequency, nature, and severity of the allegations.
Not only that, but there's more than Wheeler's privacy interest at stake. The public also has a right to know about government misconduct -- an interest the DOJ apparently believes doesn't exist.
OPR also made no apparent effort to weigh any privacy interest against the countervailing public interest in the disclosure of information concerning allegations of government attorneys’ misconduct. OPR cannot issue a blanket proclamation that a loss of privacy would be “unwarranted” without considering whether there is a public interest that might well warrant it.
This puts Bartko in line for some disclosure, roughly five years after he asked for it. Unfortunately, it appears from what little he has received, the prosecutor who engaged in misconduct was allowed to resign and avoid an OPR investigation. But what he will finally obtain should show how often that office engaged in behavior bad enough to warrant official court notice. And that's something of interest to everyone, not just the person whose case suffered directly from this abuse of due process.
Earlier this month Ars Technica reported on the arrest of the alleged operators of Mugshots.com, a website that does what it says on the tin: hosts mugshots. The issue is, the site operators didn't just host mugshots; they also charged people to have their mugshots removed from the site through a companion site, Unpublisharrest.com.
Assuming the arrest warrant is fairly stating things, the site's operators may not have had the best of intentions in running their site the way they did. According to the facts alleged they were more interested in making money by charging people to have their pictures removed from their site than in serving as any sort of public records archive.
But it shouldn't matter why they pursued the editorial policy that they did. First of all, mugshots are generally public records, and for good reason. As South Dakota's attorney general Mark Jackley noted last year, when South Dakota declared them to be public records:
"The release of criminal booking photographs to the public will result in greater transparency in the criminal process, enhance public safety, and will further assist the media and the public in the proper identification of individuals in the criminal process."
People are ordinarily allowed to share public records on their websites, just as they may share any other lawful information. People are also free to be arbitrary and capricious in how they choose what information to share. They are even free to be financially motivated in making those decisions.
But according to authorities in California, if the decision on what information to share is linked to a profit incentive (from the arrest warrant: "The motive behind posting the damaging material is financial gain."), and that information is a mugshot, you go to jail. In the case of the Mugshots.com operators, authorities have predicated their arrest on some alarming statutory language:
As of January 1, 2015, California Civil Code Section 1798.91 .1, Subdivision makes it unlawful for any person engaged in publishing or otherwise disseminating a booking photograph through a print or electronic medium to solicit, require, or accept the payment of a fee or other consideration from a subject individual to remove, correct, modify, or to refrain from publishing or otherwise disseminating that booking photograph. By posting the booking photograph online, and requiring a fee to have it removed, the owners and operators of Mugshots.com and Unpublisharrest.com are operating their websites for an unlawful purpose.
In addition, the authorities construed what the operators of Mugshots.com did as identity theft:
California Penal Code Section 530.5 defines identify theft, stating: "Every person who willfully obtains personal identifying information . . . of another person, and uses that information for any unlawful purpose. . . without the consent of that person, is guilty of a public offense. Section 530.55 identifies a 'person' as a natural person, firm, company, corporation or any other legal entity. The section defines 'personal identifying information' as any 'name, address . . . or other unique physical representation.' Because Mugshots.com and Unpublisharrest.com have used, and continue to use, the booking photographs and PII of individuals for purposes of selling the service of removing the photographs and information, the owners are in violation of California Penal Code Section 530.5, identity theft, a felony."
Taken together, the arrest warrant concludes, the site operators are guilty of extortion and conspiracy to commit extortion. But to prove extortion prosecutors must show that the accused threatened a victim either with violence, the accusation of a crime, or the exposure of a secret, if they didn't pay the accused. Yet the defendants are accused of none of these things. Not only is there no issue of threatened violence, but what the site operators are alleged to have done in no way involves revealing a secret or accusing another of a crime. Instead it is the state that has already accused the site operators' purported "victims" of a crime, and its having done so is no secret. The state's accusation against these people became public when it originally released the mugshots, meaning there is nothing that the site operators could have been threatening to reveal that wasn't already revealed.
This apparently sloppy reading of the extortion statute, compounded with the 2015 statutory language giving mugshots a sort of magical status that prevents them from being treated as an ordinary public record, represents a chilling incursion on protected First Amendment activity. It's one thing to impose liability for publishing content that isn't lawful, perhaps because it's defamatory, infringing, or somehow intrinsically wrongful unto itself. But it's another thing entirely to impose liability for publishing content that is entirely lawful – especially, as in this case, when it is not only lawful but a public record.
California authorities would likely argue that the prosecution is not about liability for speech, but liability arising from the decisions about what speech got spoken. (Or, more particular to this case, remained spoken, for the state is not prosecuting the site operators for having posted the mugshots in the first place.) But this is a distinction without a difference. Indeed, decisions about what we choose to say can be as expressive as anything we actually do say. The government ordinarily does not get to come in and force us to make those decisions in any particular way. Freedom of expression means that we are at liberty to decide what to say, and then what not to say, for whatever reason we might decide. Even when these expressive choices are guided by a profit motive.
Were that not the case, think of how chilling it would be to profit-driven news media if their editorial decisions had to be free from any financial concern in order to retain First Amendment protection. Even in terms of mugshots themselves, think about how chilling it would be if others could not freely use them to tell us about the world around us, if there was money to be made in the process. As case in point, the very same week the arrest warrant was used to extradite the site operators back to California, the New York Times ran a story about the efforts of journalist and photographer Eric Etheridge to document the lives of Freedom Riders.
Among the important artifacts of this historic campaign are more than 300 mug shots taken of the Freedom Riders in Jackson, now the subject of “Breach of Peace: Portraits of the 1961 Mississippi Freedom Riders” (Vanderbilt University Press). In it, the journalist and photographer Eric Etheridge provides visual and oral histories of these courageous men and women, juxtaposing vintage mug shots with short biographies, interviews and contemporary portraits. Originally published in 2008, this expanded edition, with updated profiles and additional portraits…
It is a book that is for sale, so it would seem there is a profit motive somewhere. But consider whether this important historical work could be released if authorities in California – or, perhaps more saliently, in Mississippi, where the mugshots are from – could scrutinize the expressive decisions that went into the book's use of the pictures because it profited from that use.
Yet that's what the California authorities have decided they are entitled to do with the Mugshots.com site. The arrest warrant is dismissive towards the free speech interests of the site's operators, accusing them of "using freedom of speech theories in justifying the activity." Of course, that's what the First Amendment is for, to protect expressive activities that authorities do not like. And authorities really don't like what happened here.
As noted above, the optics in this case are not great. People felt desperate to have their mugshots removed from the Internet, and the site operators profited from that desperation. It feels criminal, but just because they may have had nefarious intent does not mean that they committed a crime. Just reading about the arrest brought to mind the Monty Python sketch where a bunch of gangsters connived a devious plot to go to a jeweler's to obtain an expensive watch - that they paid for.
Sure, it looks like they are up to no good, but to determine whether a crime has been committed we can't just consider how it looks. We have to look closely at the underlying lawfulness of the activity, not the optics surrounding it, and for the very same reason that California authorities are now interested in policing the use of mugshots: to prevent unwarranted inferences of criminal culpability. As the New York Times wrote about the Freedom Riders book:
If these mug shots inadvertently captured the humanity and special qualities of their principled subjects, as Mr. Etheridge observed, their intention was nefarious: to publicly impugn and humiliate people whose only crime was to advocate equality through peaceful protest. No matter their purpose, mug shots inevitably imply aberrance or delinquency, whether or not the people they depict are eventually found to be guilty.
But that's what the California prosecutors have done: impute "aberrance or delinquency" to draw unwarranted inferences about criminal culpability from an act that the law cannot constitutionally criminalize. This inference has already been used to strip the site operators of their constitutional right to express themselves anonymously due to at least three search warrants that were served on their service providers. These warrants were issued upon probable cause, but the only probable cause that can be construed here is that the site operators engaged in expressive activity authorities did not like. Efforts by these authorities to now extradite, further prosecute, and potentially leave the site operators vulnerable to civil damages should not be cheered by anyone who might prefer not to experience the same as a result of their own lawful expression.
It turns out the most oppressed demographic in this country is the one with power, guns, unions, extra rights, and plenty of civil immunity. Law enforcement agencies around the country currently besieged by public records requests are having their fears assuaged and brows unfurrowed by the nation's largest provider of automatic license plate reader technology.
We know you are experiencing an onslaught of Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) and Public Records Act (PRA) requests from the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) and MuckRock regarding your use of our license plate reader (LPR) technology. We write this letter to let you know, quite simply, we support you and are here for you.
Just to be clear, this "onslaught" is composed of one request per law enforcement agency. There's no point in doubling up on requests since that would just waste time and resources. There may be some inadvertent double filings, but that would only mean some agencies have seen more than one request for Vigilant documents. In no case are any agencies being targeted with mass duplicated requests. So, this "onslaught" might be cumulative in total, but it basically comes down to a 1/1 ratio of requests/agencies.
From there, Vigilant's letter [PDF] devolves into talking points about the great law enforcement work being done with its passive collection systems. It highlights a handful of nonspecific success stories -- stories it claims the EFF and MuckRock ignore -- as justification for 24/7 gathering of license plate/location data. Again, this poor attempt to slam both entities as anti-law enforcement fails. No one disputes ALPRs help catch criminals. The problem is they're often put into place with zero public comment, zero discussion by public officials, zero guidelines for data gathering and retention, and with an eye on law enforcement efficiency above everything else.
The letter tries to mock EFF as being noble fools for pointing out how many agencies have access to Vigilant plate data.
The EFF has noted that California agencies are sharing with the U.S. Forest Service, universities on the East Coast, and airports in Tennessee. EFF is apparently unaware that criminals travel across state lines. Perhaps these writers have not read the countless stories about crimes committed on college campuses, at airports and even in National Parks.
This willfully ignores the reason the EFF points out the long list of agencies with access to data. It's not that the EFF doesn't know suspected criminals move around the country or that criminal acts can occur anywhere. It's that hundreds of agencies are dipping into this data without clear, concise guidance on what they can access and how they can use it. For some agencies not tasked with law enforcement, it's unclear why they're even able to pull data from a database supposedly created for law enforcement use only.
But the most ridiculous part of the letter is its ending, in which Vigilant claims the EFF and MuckRock are doing this for the clicks.
The real impetus behind this campaign is so EFF and MuckRock can capitalize on the most well-known emotional trigger for fundraising: Fear. Their aim is to paint a false picture of sharing LPR data by leading their readers to believe it is reckless, unrestricted and used to track individuals. In short, they are attempting to scare individuals into hitting one of the countless "Contribute" and "Donate" buttons on their website.
Wow. Way to stick it to a couple of nonprofits, Vigilant. The "doing it for money/eyeballs/ad revenue/etc." argument is a full-throated admission you can't find anything legitimate to complain about. Vigilant sure seems defensive for an entity that believes it's nothing but a net gain for public safety. This letter is hilarious -- an admission Vigilant can be put on the defensive by a steady trickle of public records requests from around the nation.
It's also kind of hypocritical. Vigilant has brought lawsuits against states claiming their anti-ALPR laws violated the company's First Amendment right to collect license plate photographs en masse. Now, it's reaching out to law enforcement agencies to let them know Vigilant will be there for them while citizens exercise their First Amendment rights by requesting a much smaller quantity of public records. This open letter of Vigilant's is terrible optics. Either it shows Vigilant can be put on the defensive by people seeking information about its products, or it believes law enforcement officers are feeling threatened by the incremental increase in FOIA paperwork. Either way, it's a terrible look and a terrible response.
Back in 2016 we wrote about how Landis+Gyr, a large multinational company owned by Toshiba, completely freaked out when it discovered that documents about its smart energy meters, which the city of Seattle had contracted to use, were subject to a FOIA request. As we noted, Landis+Gyr went legal and did so in perhaps the nuttiest way possible. First it demanded the documents be taken down from Muckrock -- the platform that makes it easy for journalists and others to file FOIA requests. Then it demanded that Muckrock reveal the details of anyone who might have seen the documents in question. It then sued Muckrock and somehow got a court to issue a temporary restraining order (TRO) against Muckrock for posting these public records.
Eventually, with help from EFF, Landis+Gyr agreed to a settlement that stated that these documents were (a) public records and (b) the company would no longer attempt to take down the copies that Muckrock had obtained. From the settlement agreement posted on the public docket in the case:
Plaintiffs agree that they will take no further action against Defendants Mocek, Muckrock.com, and Morisy with respect to two public records previously released by the City to Muckrock.com on behalf of Mocek and automatically published on MuckRock.com.
This all ended in the summer of 2016. And, indeed, you can still find the documents hosted on Muckrock's website today. Here is the Managed Services Report 2015 and the Security Overview. Even though Landis+Gyr went to court over this and then agreed via its settlement that (1) these were public records that (2) could be left online, the company apparently doesn't want you reading them.
Last week, we received a notice from DocumentCloud -- which we use to host various documents as part of our reporting efforts -- that it had received a DMCA notice from lawyer Heather McNay of Landis+Gyr, demanding that it take down the copies of those very same public records that we had uploaded as part of our reporting on this story. It seems fairly clear to us that our posting of these public records as part of our reporting and commentary on a dispute created by Landis+Gyr itself was quintessential fair use for news reporting. And, of course, there a number of court rulings in various locations noting that copyright law cannot be used to prohibit the copying of public records (notably, that case involves a very similar situation involving a public records request in Washington State).
Either way, given that Landis+Gyr has promised in its settlement with Muckrock not to take any actions at all against Muckrock for hosting these public records, we'll note the incredible futility of the company then sending DMCA notices targeting those same public records, and scratch our collective heads over what the company is thinking when all it's doing is reminding everyone that (1) these documents exist online and (2) apparently the company would prefer you not look at these public records about its own systems.
The route to equipping the NYPD with body cameras ran through a federal courtroom. As part of the remedies handed down in a civil rights lawsuit against the NYPD's stop-and-frisk program, body cameras became required equipment for officers.
NYPD officials seemed to support the plan. Not so the ostensible representative of the NYPD, the Patrolmen's Benevolent Association (PBA). The NYPD's union fought the cameras much as they have fought anything with a hint of accountability. A report by the NYPD's internal oversight found officers much less concerned about body cameras and access to footage than their supposed union reps.
A long-delayed camera policy finally rolled out, making it clear cameras would serve officers and prosecutors much more than they would the general public. Now, the PBA is going to court to block the release of camera footage to the public. The PBA hopes the court will read public records laws the way it does, tossing body cam footage into the gaping hole of New York public records exemptions.
The union points to a New York statute, Civil Rights Law Section 50-a, that declares "all personnel records used to evaluate performance toward continued employment or promotion" must be "confidential and not subject to inspection or review," permitting their release only with the consent of the police officer or a court order. According to the union, body camera footage should be considered such personnel records.
The exemption is already awful, distancing officers from accountability by ensuring the public cannot access anything related to disciplinary actions or internal investigations. If a court finds in favor of the PBA, footage captured by officers while performing their duties in public would suddenly become internal records the NYPD would be forbidden by state law from releasing.
This would completely subvert one of the key public benefits of body cameras. As the ACLU points out, denying access to footage to the public turns body cameras into spywear.
A win for the PBA would turn body cameras, paid for with millions of dollars in taxpayer funds, into yet another NYPD mass surveillance tool to be used against vulnerable New Yorkers. Public support for body cameras will not last if the police accountability aspect of the devices is erased and they simply become public surveillance devices.
This would be a devastating blow for holding officers responsible for their actions and would negate the potential value body cameras could add to improving police-community relations.
The PBA is taking an extreme stance on this issue, which places the union in apparent opposition of the officers it represents. The lawsuit also names the NYPD as a defendant. The department has argued body cam footage is not a "personnel record," but is documentation of an event. According to the NYPD's arguments, it retains the right to release footage at its discretion after making any redactions necessary to comply with New York privacy laws.
The NYPD is finally trying to do something to repair its relationship with the communities they serve by releasing footage of controversial incidents. No sooner does the NYPD take a small step towards transparency and accountability than Pat Lynch and the PBA arrive on the scene to sue this urge into submission. The public isn't being served by this public sector union. Considering the PBA is suing the employer of the officers it represents, it could be argued the union isn't doing much to serve its members either. This lawsuit pit officers against the public at a crucial time when taking a less antagonistic stance would be far more beneficial.
Some surprising news out of Florida: actual public officials being held accountable for public records law violations. We're used to hearing about officials finding new and creative ways to dodge public records requests. We're also used to hearing about officials using tried-and-true methods to avoid turning over records, like demanding astronomical fees or abusing exemptions.
In a move that should send a chill down the spines of thousands of elected officials in Florida, former Martin County Commissioner Anne Scott, a retired judge originally from Chicago, and current Commissioner Ed Fielding were booked Tuesday night into the county jail after being indicted in a public records scandal that already cost taxpayers upward of $25 million.
The charges aren't much -- a misdemeanor count worth up to a year in jail -- but they're a start. (Another involved government employee -- sitting commissioner Amber Heard -- faces a civil charge and a fine of $500.) Unfortunately, the charges look minuscule compared to the amount taxpayers will have to come up with to settle lawsuits stemming from the actions of these politicians.
Scott, Fielding and Heard, who is in her fourth term on the County Commission, are accused of failing to surrender emails to developers investigating why the commission suddenly started voting against them.
The emails were requested by Lake Point, a mining company on the banks of Lake Okeechobee. The company was out to prove that commissioners were illegally communicating and discussing public business in private and conspiring with members of the public against the company’s interests.
It took several years for the trio to produce their emails. When she was asked to show emails from her private Yahoo account, Heard claimed it had been hacked. In a civil lawsuit, several witnesses testified Heard was lying.
So far, the county has lost one civil lawsuit over the public records and was ordered to pay $500,000 of Lake Point’s legal bill.
That's only the start of the taxpayer pain. Several years of legal costs have already been footed by residents as these government officials argued on behalf of themselves and against the public's interest. The Miami Herald reports a massive payout may be on the horizon. A second lawsuit filed by the mining company alleging breach of contract is about to be settled, with the estimated payout being $25 million.
In the end, it's not a win for the public in terms of dollar amount, but it is at least a sign the government will do something about its own misbehaving employees… provided the collateral damage becomes too big to ignore. It would be nice to see something more proactive but given the number of things governments routinely let slide, we'll chalk this up as a small-w win.
Cops and the press can be best friends. In some cases, they are. Anytime an officer shoots or beats someone, at least one obliging outlet steps up to publish the department's statement as well as any criminal history they've been able to dig up on the shooting/beating victim. And if the police aren't willing to turn over criminal records, some outlets will do the heavy lifting for them.
But they can also be antagonists. Generally speaking, law enforcement is a closed shop. It usually takes diligent efforts by journalists to pry loose documents pertaining to misconduct or misbehavior. State laws tend to make this more difficult than it should be by granting law enforcement agencies tons of public records exemptions.
The department's Facebook post opens up with some speculation about the journalist's intentions:
For six months, a reporter at a local newspaper has been seeking essentially the complete case file of the tragic incident where a young man took his own life after exchanging gunshots with an Aurora Police officer in October, 2016. Both the reporter and the publication were especially interested in the officer’s dash cam video of the traffic stop that began the entire episode in an apparent attempt to disprove its justification. (The publication wrote an editorial on March 26, 2017, calling into question the officer’s actions and our explanation of events.) You can see the stop and events that led up to it on this post.
After pausing to note the state attorney general ruled in the department's favor in the dispute over the unreleased documents (and to praise the officer involved for his bravery and clearance of wrongdoing by the Illinois State Police investigation), Chief Ziman goes on to gripe at length about pesky journalists and public records requests. (Emphasis added.)
Aside from the video of the traffic stop, the reporter’s voluminous FOIA request included requests on all past contacts we had with Mr. Martell; past contacts we had with the driver of the car from which the original traffic stop initiated and that Mr. Martell had run from; and other detailed information on witnesses or other parties in the case. We denied the release of much of the information because doing so would have possibly identified witnesses or other bystanders--- something I find unacceptable as Chief of Police.
[...]
This is not the first request from this particular reporter that requires dozens and dozens of employee hours to fulfill. In fact, this is a regular practice for her--- many of which consist of hundreds of pages. When a FOIA request is filed, there is certain information we cannot release by law. Each FOIA filed with the police is reviewed by at least three people: the FOIA officer who assures the request is within legal parameters, a trained records clerk who redacts information that cannot be released, and an investigations supervisor who reviews the documents to assure nothing is released that shouldn’t be.
While I understand FOIA’s enhance openness and public transparency, many of the FOIA’s this reporter files don’t result in published articles. The hours the city has worked to fulfill her FOIA requests has cost taxpayers and resulted in police supervisors devoting their time on FOIA requests rather than concentrating on our crime fighting initiatives. The demand for trust between the community and the police is prolific. At some point, there has to be a trusting relationship between the media and the police.
First off, while it may be a pain to fulfill requests, the law allows citizens to file them. The state is obligated to fulfill them. Listening to someone complain about a singular aspect of their job directly related to accountability doesn't exactly affirm a stated commitment to accountability.
Further, the post insinuates records requests by this reporter are resulting in less crime fighting. This post invites the public to view the reporter as an impediment to efficient law enforcement, rather than someone simply doing her job as a journalist using tools the state has given her.
More statements made by Chief Ziman on Twitter distance her further from her supposed embrace of accountability. She mentions she doesn't care for the "fishing expedition mentality," but that's exactly what journalism is. It's seeking documents and info until enough is compiled to put an article together. The fact that some requested documents are never used by journalists does not make those requests any less valid.
Finally, the Facebook post says "there has to be a trusting relationship between the media and police." No, there absolutely does not. This is completely wrong. Journalism is nothing more than stenography if it allows government agencies to steer narratives and coverage. Chief Ziman seems to think reporters should accept every statement made by police officials at face value, rather than seek underlying documents. That's not trust. That's obeisance. It's worthless in the context of transparency and accountability.
Chief Ziman would rather be allowed to release only the documents she wants to release on a schedule that's convenient to her and her department. The problem is journalists, like the one she publicly berates here, keep getting in the way of her idealized trusting relationship with the press. The government needs more outside skepticism, not less, to keep it in line. Law enforcement officials complaining about lawful activity is always a bad look, especially when they're not being given the trust they're so obviously willing to undermine.
