Als het aan de politie ligt, wordt uw kenteken straks overal gescand. Niet alleen kijkt de politie of u iets op uw kerfstok heeft, maar ook of u op basis van uw reisprofiel van plan bent om rottigheid uit te halen: een soort Minority Report op de weg dus. Daarbij worden kentekenscans mogelijk centraal opgeslagen en informatie en camerabeelden uitgewisseld tussen politie en de private sector.

Dit scenario destilleer ik uit een aantal stukken dat ik met een beroep op de Wet openbaarheid van bestuur (Wob) van het KLPD heb ontvangen. Nu al maken verschillende korpsen gebruik van Automated Number Plate Recognition (ANPR), oftewel kentekenherkenning. ANPR wordt op dit moment vooral toegepast voor handhaving, bijvoorbeeld om mensen met openstaande boetes uit het verkeer te plukken. Maar ANPR kan veel meer, zeker als er een landelijk dekkend systeem is.

De registraties geven een rijk beeld van waar auto’s zijn geweest. Die informatie kan toegepast worden in opsporingsonderzoeken en gebruikt worden voor intelligencedoeleinden. Een centrale stuurgroep onderzoekt de mogelijkheid van van zo’n landelijke toepassing en komt binnenkort – onbekend is wanneer – waarschijnlijk met een voorstel.

Waarom is dit belangrijk?

Uit een aantal openbaargemaakte stukken (waaronder een basisdocument van de landelijke werkgroep, Implementatie en Doorontwikkeling ANPR, IDA) blijkt wel waar de voorkeur van de politie naar uit gaat. Ook wordt gewerkt aan een communicatiestrategie. Uiteraard is het niet de bedoeling dat de burger nu al meepraat. Om te voorkomen dat we voor voldongen feiten worden gesteld, nu alvast een bijdrage aan de discussie. Hieronder vindt u enkele tekstfragmenten. Gezamenlijk geven ze een duidelijk beeld van de koers die men dreigt in te slaan. Alle openbare documenten staan onderaan. Een eerder, wat beperkter verhaal, staat hier.

Tot slot nog even wat u niet mag weten van het KLPD (de zwartgemaakte stukken in de documenten):

– Het KLPD werkt samen met het Eindhovense bedrijf Technet.

– Verantwoordelijke bij de Raad van Hoofdcommissarissen (en auteur van het conceptrapport Beelden van de Samenleving is Pieter Jaap Aalbersberg, portefeuillehouder Publiek-Private Samenwerking en Intelligence van de Raad van Hoofdcommissarissen. Blijkbaar is dit ook al privacygevoelige informatie.

– De locatie van de vaste ANPR-opstellingen worden niet prijsgegeven. Tips kunt u kwijt in de comments, dat werkt wellicht sneller dan een bezwaarschrift. Momenteel werk ik aan een overzichtskaart.

Uit: ANPR Naar een landelijke toepassing

Hotlists worden landelijk samengesteld als afgeleide van bestaande registers zoals het opsporingsregister of het kentekenregister. De kentekenverzameling kan naar eigen inzicht worden aangevuld met gegevens uit het korps dat ANPR inzet. Denk daarbij aan speciale doelgroepen en/of subjecten in onderzoeken van CIE (Criminele Inlichtingen Eenheid), TGO’s (teams grootschalig optreden) of BRT’s (bovenregionale recherche teams).

Opsporing: gepleegde en te plegen strafbare feiten opsporen door balansverstoorders uit de anonimiteit van verkeersstromen te halen. Met ANPR kan bijvoorbeeld een overzicht gemaakt worden van voertuigen die op een bepaald tijdstip in de buurt van een plaats delict aanwezig waren. Een andere toepassingsmogelijkheid is om via ANPR inzicht te verkrijgen in verkeersstromen om vervolgens afwijkende patronen te herkennen.

Wanneer een ongewoon reispatroon door middel van analyse van het politieregister ANPR aan het licht komt, kan dat voor de politie reden zijn om een onderzoek in te stellen. Zo kunnen potentiële criminele activiteiten tijdig worden onderkend.

De meerwaarde die ANPR in de toekomst kan bieden is vooral gericht op (proactieve) informatieanalyse, datamining en het versterken van de informatiepositie van de politie. Doelstelling is het ontdekken van trends, patronen en profielen om daar passende interventiescenario’s voor te kunnen opstellen of zelfs ‘criminaliteitsvoorspellingen’ uit te kunnen destilleren. Dat vraagt om een andere soort van analyses, andere vakinhoudelijke kennis en vanwege de bijzondere verstrekkende zoekmogelijkheden om autorisaties van een zeer beperkte kring van politieambtenaren die de vereiste deskundigheid en ervaring bezitten.

De effectiviteit van ANPR zal toenemen naarmate de inzet breder wordt. Nu wordt ANPR regionaal en periodiek ingezet. De ANPR-systemen kunnen echter ook structureel en landelijk worden ingezet. Te denken valt aan een koppeling van de ANPR-systemen aan de bestaande camera’s van Rijkswaterstaat die langs de snelweg hangen en aan een koppeling aan de camera’s van stadstoezicht. Zo kunnen (potentiële) wetsovertreders nationaal, regionaal en binnen de stad gesignaleerd en eventueel gevolgd worden.

Een bredere inzet kan ook betekenen dat er meerdere hotlists worden gekoppeld aan de ANPR-camera. Op dit moment wordt vooral gecontroleerd met gegevens van de Rijksdienst voor het Wegverkeer, gegevens van het Centraal Justitieel Incassobureau, gegevens van Politie en gegevens van Justitie. Deze verzameling kan uitgebreid worden met hotlists van andere overheidsinstellingen.

Samenwerking draagt bovendien bij aan het streven van het kabinet naar één controlerende overheid. Door (al dan niet structureel) samen te werken met eerdergenoemde partijen ontstaat een veel groter arsenaal aan bevoegdheden, interventiemogelijkheden en informatie die in samenhang kan worden ingezet. Deze samenwerking vindt al vaak plaats in het kader van het integrale veiligheidsbeleid, de bestuurlijke aanpak van de georganiseerde criminaliteit, de inzet van Bibob en de multidisciplinaire samenwerking met de Bijzondere Opsporingsdiensten.

(…) Vanwege de identificerende en signalerende werking krijgt de politie een steeds beter beeld van (potentiële) balansverstoringen en (potentiële) balansverstoorders met een veiligere samenleving als gevolg. (…)

Verder leren de ervaringen van de politie in Groot Brittannië dat de met ANPR verkregen informatie een grote bijdrage levert aan het oplossen of voorkomen van terroristische aanslagen en zware delicten [wat onzin is, in Engeland gaan er juist stemmen op om het aantal ANPR controles drastisch terug te brengen, dt.]. Wat dat aangaat kan ANPR dus ook gebruikt worden voor bewaken en beveiligen, het vergaren van informatie en intelligence of het tegenhouden van een aanslag. Dergelijke toepassingen zijn natuurlijk wel afhankelijk van de dichtheid van het cameranetwerk.

Een voorbeeld van hoe de toepassing van ANPR de privacy van een burger kan raken is proactief onderzoek. In theorie is het mogelijk dat personen die niets met een specifiek delict te maken hebben maar die op het verkeerde moment op een verkeerde plaats verblijven in een ‘potentiële verdachten’ bestand terechtkomen. Van belang is dus om als politie goed uit te leggen wat proactief onderzoek inhoudt en dat voldoende wettelijke waarborgen bestaan om onterecht te worden bestempeld als een verdachte.

Het uitgangspunt daarbij is de inzet van ANPR als handhavinginstrument. Die staat nauwelijks ter discussie en kan relatief eenvoudig worden gerealiseerd. De mogelijkheid om in de toekomst ANPR in te zetten voor opsporingsdoeleinden mag echter niet uit het oog verloren worden en dient meegenomen te worden in de doorontwikkeling van het instrument.

Uitgangspunt voor verdere implementatie en doorontwikkeling van ANPR is een landelijke organisatie die de ANPR standaarden ontwikkelt en bewaakt en die aanspreekpunt is voor deelnemers en ketenpartners in de ANPR strategie. Daarnaast draagt deze organisatie de zorg voor het beheer van een landelijke database met landelijke hotlists. (…) Het voordeel van deze landelijke regie met regionale autonomie is dat een landelijke ANPR-dekking relatief snel bewerkstelligd kan worden.

Uit Beelden van de Samenleving een visiedocument van de Raad van Hoofdcommissarissen, februari 2009

Rol van informatiegestuurd cameratoezicht. Informatiegestuurd cameratoezicht richt zich (in tegenstelling tot andere vormen van cameratoezicht) niet alleen op het verzamelen en verwerken van informatie, maar ook op het analyseren (veredelen) en uitwisselen van deze informatie met publieke én private partners.

Zo, dan bent u weer bij. Hieronder de documenten en daaronder een filmpje.

De documenten:

ANPR naar een landelijke toepassing

Beelden van de samenleving

Digitale surveillance op snelwegen

bijlage 2 IDA (overzicht ANPR-initiatieven per korps)

Beschrijving legitimiteitsvraagstukken

Juridisch advies ANPR (hier een verhaal daarover)

Proces Catch Ken Plan van uitvoering

Opdracht juridische werkgroep

Door Dimitri Tokmetzis
09:00 donderdag 12 augustus 2010

Find this story at 12 August 2010

(cc) 2001-2013 Stichting Sargasso

Mark Kennedy, a British police officer who spent seven years infiltrating environmental and activist groups while working undercover for the Metropolitan Police force in London, may have monitored an American computer scientist and spied on others while in the United States.

The computer scientist, Harry Halpin, said that he was at a gathering of activists and academics in Manhattan in January 2008 that Mr. Kennedy — then using the pseudonym Mark Stone — also attended. He said Mr. Kennedy collected information about him and about a man and a woman who were accused later that year of associating with “a terrorist enterprise” and sabotaging high-speed train lines in France.

In addition to Mr. Halpin’s assertions, documents connected to the case indicate that prosecutors in Paris looked to American officials to provide evidence about a handful of people in the United States and events that took place in New York in 2008.

“Mark Kennedy spied upon myself on United States soil, as well as Julien Coupat and Yildune Levy,” Mr. Halpin wrote in an e-mail, naming two defendants in the group known in France as the Tarnac 10, after the small mountain village where several of them had lived in a commune.

Mr. Halpin added that Mr. Coupat introduced him to Mr. Kennedy in the fall of 2007. “It appears that Mark Kennedy also passed information to the F.B.I. that I knew Julian Coupat,” he added.

Reached via e-mail on Thursday, Mr. Kennedy, who now works with The Densus Group, a security consulting firm based in the United States, declined to comment on Mr. Halpin’s statements.

In 2010, Mr. Halpin said that F.B.I. agents detained him for five hours after he arrived at John F. Kennedy International Airport from Europe, seizing his computer and threatening put him in jail if he did not agree to provide information about Mr. Coupat. Mr. Halpin said that he refused but the agents let him go when they were asked to explain the charges against him.

A spokesman for the F.B.I. in New York, James Margolin, declined to comment on the encounter described by Mr. Halpin.

The accounts of events in New York provided by Mr. Halpin and others added a new twist to two dramas that have received widespread attention in Europe, where they have slowly unraveled over the past few years.

Mr. Kennedy’s actions while spying on political activists in Britain have brought embarrassment to Scotland Yard, as officials there have been forced to confront allegations of inappropriate behavior by some undercover operatives.

As reported in The Guardian newspaper, Mr. Kennedy was said to have had sexual relationships with a number of women connected to groups he had infiltrated.

In 2011, the trial of six people accused of planning to take over a coal-fired power plant collapsed amid claims, denied by Mr. Kennedy, that he had acted as an agent provocateur. Mr. Kennedy was also shown to have worked undercover in more than 20 other countries, including Iceland, Spain and Germany, where members of parliament have raised questions about his role.

Eventually, 10 women, including three who said they had intimate relationships with Mr. Kennedy, sued the police in London saying that they had formed strong personal ties with undercover officers. Later, it was reported in British papers that Mr. Kennedy sued the police, saying that his superiors had failed to prevent him from sleeping with an activist and falling in love.

In France, l’affaire de Tarnac, as it is known, has become a cause célèbre among civil libertarians who have criticized the use of terrorism statutes against people suspected of sabotage but not accused of harming anyone. The defendants have denied wrongdoing, but the authorities have portrayed them as dangerous subversives who plotted attacks against the state then “refused to answer questions, or gave whimsical answers” about their activities.

An unusual element of the case involves a book called “The Coming Insurrection” by an anonymous group of authors called the Invisible Committee. The book advocates rebellion against capitalist culture, encourages readers to form self-sufficient communes and calls for “a diffuse, efficient guerrilla war to give us back our ungovernableness.” Prosecutors have said that Mr. Coupat and his comrades wrote the volume. The suspects denied authorship but Mr. Coupat told journalists in France that the book had merit.

While the Tarnac case has moved slowly through the French legal system, documents have emerged showing that F.B.I. agents were posted outside the Manhattan building where the activists gathered in 2008, videotaping the arrival and departure of Mr. Halpin, Mr. Coupat and Ms. Levy, among others. Those tapes were later given to French prosecutors along with a detailed log compiled by the F.B.I. agents.

As the French investigation continued, documents show that prosecutors in Paris asked officials in the United States about a “meeting of anarchists” in New York and about several people who could be connected to Mr. Coupat. They also asked for information about a low-grade explosive attack in March 2008 that damaged an armed forces recruitment center in Times Square.

In 2012, letters show that Justice Department officials said they had not identified any connection between the people at the Manhattan gathering and the attack on the recruitment center. The officials also gave French prosecutors background information on some American citizens who appeared to have visited the commune in Tarnac and records of an interview that F.B.I. agents had conducted with an assistant professor and French philosophist at New York University who had translated “The Coming Insurrection.”

The professor, Alexander Galloway, told the agents that he had taught the books in a class on political theory and French philosophy, but had never met Mr. Coupat.

Official documents do not mention Mr. Kennedy but several people from New York said that he spent about a week there in early 2008 on his way to visit a brother in Cleveland. During that period, witnesses said Mr. Kennedy attended several informal gatherings, sometimes with Mr. Coupat and Ms. Levy.

…

March 15, 2013, 3:06 pm
By COLIN MOYNIHAN

Find this story at 15 March 2013

Copyright 2013 The New York Times Company

The family of a teenager whose murder by a far-right commando rocked Spain in 1980 called Friday for an official inquiry after a newspaper reported that her killer has worked for police as an advisor since his release from jail.

Yolanda Gonzalez, a 19-year-old Socialist Party activist who had appeared in photographs at the head of student protest marches, was shot two times in the head at close range in a field near Madrid by a far-right commando who suspected her of belonging to the armed Basque separatist group ETA.

Gonzalez’s murder shocked Spain, which at the time was going through a tumultuous transition to democracy following the death of right-wing dictator General Francisco Franco.

The man who shot Gonzalez, Emilio Hellin Moro, a former member of the Grup 41 commando with ties to the far-right party Fuerza Nueva, changed his name to Luis Enrique Hellin after he was released from jail in 1996 after serving 14 years of a 43-year jail sentence, top-selling newspaper El Pais reported last month.

According to the left-leaning paper, the 63-year-old expert on IT-related criminal investigations secured contracts under the changed name with Spain’s security forces, acting for years as an advisor to Spain’s top court and proving training courses to police on how to carry out electronic eavesdropping and comb computers and cellphones for evidence.

…

Agence France-PresseMarch 8, 2013 17:30

Find this story at 8 March 2013
Copyright 2013 GlobalPost

Smart technology and the sort of big data available to social networking sites are helping police target crime before it happens. But is this ethical?

Companies such as Facebook have begun using algorithms and historical data to predict which of their users might commit crimes. Illustration: Noma Bar

The police have a very bright future ahead of them – and not just because they can now look up potential suspects on Google. As they embrace the latest technologies, their work is bound to become easier and more effective, raising thorny questions about privacy, civil liberties, and due process.

For one, policing is in a good position to profit from “big data”. As the costs of recording devices keep falling, it’s now possible to spot and react to crimes in real time. Consider a city like Oakland in California. Like many other American cities, today it is covered with hundreds of hidden microphones and sensors, part of a system known as ShotSpotter, which not only alerts the police to the sound of gunshots but also triangulates their location. On verifying that the noises are actual gunshots, a human operator then informs the police.

It’s not hard to imagine ways to improve a system like ShotSpotter. Gunshot-detection systems are, in principle, reactive; they might help to thwart or quickly respond to crime, but they won’t root it out. The decreasing costs of computing, considerable advances in sensor technology, and the ability to tap into vast online databases allow us to move from identifying crime as it happens – which is what the ShotSpotter does now – to predicting it before it happens.

Instead of detecting gunshots, new and smarter systems can focus on detecting the sounds that have preceded gunshots in the past. This is where the techniques and ideologies of big data make another appearance, promising that a greater, deeper analysis of data about past crimes, combined with sophisticated algorithms, can predict – and prevent – future ones. This is a practice known as “predictive policing”, and even though it’s just a few years old, many tout it as a revolution in how police work is done. It’s the epitome of solutionism; there is hardly a better example of how technology and big data can be put to work to solve the problem of crime by simply eliminating crime altogether. It all seems too easy and logical; who wouldn’t want to prevent crime before it happens?

Police in America are particularly excited about what predictive policing – one of Time magazine’s best inventions of 2011 – has to offer; Europeans are slowly catching up as well, with Britain in the lead. Take the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD), which is using software called PredPol. The software analyses years of previously published statistics about property crimes such as burglary and automobile theft, breaks the patrol map into 500 sq ft zones, calculates the historical distribution and frequency of actual crimes across them, and then tells officers which zones to police more vigorously.

It’s much better – and potentially cheaper – to prevent a crime before it happens than to come late and investigate it. So while patrolling officers might not catch a criminal in action, their presence in the right place at the right time still helps to deter criminal activity. Occasionally, though, the police might indeed disrupt an ongoing crime. In June 2012 the Associated Press reported on an LAPD captain who wasn’t so sure that sending officers into a grid zone on the edge of his coverage area – following PredPol’s recommendation – was such a good idea. His officers, as the captain expected, found nothing; however, when they returned several nights later, they caught someone breaking a window. Score one for PredPol?

Trials of PredPol and similar software began too recently to speak of any conclusive results. Still, the intermediate results look quite impressive. In Los Angeles, five LAPD divisions that use it in patrolling territory populated by roughly 1.3m people have seen crime decline by 13%. The city of Santa Cruz, which now also uses PredPol, has seen its burglaries decline by nearly 30%. Similar uplifting statistics can be found in many other police departments across America.

Other powerful systems that are currently being built can also be easily reconfigured to suit more predictive demands. Consider the New York Police Department’s latest innovation – the so-called Domain Awareness System – which syncs the city’s 3,000 closed-circuit camera feeds with arrest records, 911 calls, licence plate recognition technology, and radiation detectors. It can monitor a situation in real time and draw on a lot of data to understand what’s happening. The leap from here to predicting what might happen is not so great.

If PredPol’s “prediction” sounds familiar, that’s because its methods were inspired by those of prominent internet companies. Writing in The Police Chief magazine in 2009, a senior LAPD officer lauded Amazon’s ability to “understand the unique groups in their customer base and to characterise their purchasing patterns”, which allows the company “not only to anticipate but also to promote or otherwise shape future behaviour”. Thus, just as Amazon’s algorithms make it possible to predict what books you are likely to buy next, similar algorithms might tell the police how often – and where – certain crimes might happen again. Ever stolen a bicycle? Then you might also be interested in robbing a grocery store.

Here we run into the perennial problem of algorithms: their presumed objectivity and quite real lack of transparency. We can’t examine Amazon’s algorithms; they are completely opaque and have not been subject to outside scrutiny. Amazon claims, perhaps correctly, that secrecy allows it to stay competitive. But can the same logic be applied to policing? If no one can examine the algorithms – which is likely to be the case as predictive-policing software will be built by private companies – we won’t know what biases and discriminatory practices are built into them. And algorithms increasingly dominate many other parts of our legal system; for example, they are also used to predict how likely a certain criminal, once on parole or probation, is to kill or be killed. Developed by a University of Pennsylvania professor, this algorithm has been tested in Baltimore, Philadelphia and Washington DC. Such probabilistic information can then influence sentencing recommendations and bail amounts, so it’s hardly trivial.
Los Angeles police arrest a man. The force is using predictive software to direct its patrols. Photograph: Robert Nickelsberg/Getty Images

But how do we know that the algorithms used for prediction do not reflect the biases of their authors? For example, crime tends to happen in poor and racially diverse areas. Might algorithms – with their presumed objectivity – sanction even greater racial profiling? In most democratic regimes today, police need probable cause – some evidence and not just guesswork – to stop people in the street and search them. But armed with such software, can the police simply say that the algorithms told them to do it? And if so, how will the algorithms testify in court? Techno-utopians will probably overlook such questions and focus on the abstract benefits that algorithmic policing has to offer; techno-sceptics, who start with some basic knowledge of the problems, constraints and biases that already pervade modern policing, will likely be more critical.

Legal scholar Andrew Guthrie Ferguson has studied predictive policing in detail. Ferguson cautions against putting too much faith in the algorithms and succumbing to information reductionism. “Predictive algorithms are not magic boxes that divine future crime, but instead probability models of future events based on current environmental vulnerabilities,” he notes.

But why do they work? Ferguson points out that there will be future crime not because there was past crime but because “the environmental vulnerability that encouraged the first crime is still unaddressed”. When the police, having read their gloomy forecast about yet another planned car theft, see an individual carrying a screwdriver in one of the predicted zones, this might provide reasonable suspicion for a stop. But, as Ferguson notes, if the police arrested the gang responsible for prior crimes the day before, but the model does not yet reflect this information, then prediction should be irrelevant, and the police will need some other reasonable ground for stopping the individual. If they do make the stop, then they shouldn’t be able to say in court, “The model told us to.” This, however, may not be obvious to the person they have stopped, who has no familiarity with the software and its algorithms.

Then there’s the problem of under-reported crimes. While most homicides are reported, many rapes and home break-ins are not. Even in the absence of such reports, local police still develop ways of knowing when something odd is happening in their neighbourhoods. Predictive policing, on the other hand, might replace such intuitive knowledge with a naive belief in the comprehensive power of statistics. If only data about reported crimes are used to predict future crimes and guide police work, some types of crime might be left unstudied – and thus unpursued.

What to do about the algorithms then? It is a rare thing to say these days but there is much to learn from the financial sector in this regard. For example, after a couple of disasters caused by algorithmic trading in August 2012, financial authorities in Hong Kong and Australia drafted proposals to establish regular independent audits of the design, development and modification of the computer systems used for algorithmic trading. Thus, just as financial auditors could attest to a company’s balance sheet, algorithmic auditors could verify if its algorithms are in order.

As algorithms are further incorporated into our daily lives – from Google’s Autocomplete to PredPol – it seems prudent to subject them to regular investigations by qualified and ideally public-spirited third parties. One advantage of the auditing solution is that it won’t require the audited companies publicly to disclose their trade secrets, which has been the principal objection – voiced, of course, by software companies – to increasing the transparency of their algorithms.

The police are also finding powerful allies in Silicon Valley. Companies such as Facebook have begun using algorithms and historical data to predict which of their users might commit crimes using their services. Here is how it works: Facebook’s own predictive systems can flag certain users as suspicious by studying certain behavioural cues: the user only writes messages to others under 18; most of the user’s contacts are female; the user is typing keywords like “sex” or “date.” Staffers can then examine each case and report users to the police as necessary. Facebook’s concern with its own brand here is straightforward: no one should think that the platform is harbouring criminals.

In 2011 Facebook began using PhotoDNA, a Microsoft service that allows it to scan every uploaded picture and compare it with child-porn images from the FBI’s National Crime Information Centre. Since then it has expanded its analysis beyond pictures as well. In mid-2012 Reuters reported on how Facebook, armed with its predictive algorithms, apprehended a middle-aged man chatting about sex with a 13-year-old girl, arranging to meet her the day after. The police contacted the teen, took over her computer, and caught the man.

Facebook is at the cutting edge of algorithmic surveillance here: just like police departments that draw on earlier crime statistics, Facebook draws on archives of real chats that preceded real sex assaults. Curiously, Facebook justifies its use of algorithms by claiming that they tend to be less intrusive than humans. “We’ve never wanted to set up an environment where we have employees looking at private communications, so it’s really important that we use technology that has a very low false-positive rate,” Facebook’s chief of security told Reuters.

It’s difficult to question the application of such methods to catching sexual predators who prey on children (not to mention that Facebook may have little choice here, as current US child-protection laws require online platforms used by teens to be vigilant about predators). But should Facebook be allowed to predict any other crimes? After all, it can easily engage in many other kinds of similar police work: detecting potential drug dealers, identifying potential copyright violators (Facebook already prevents its users from sharing links to many file-sharing sites), and, especially in the wake of the 2011 riots in the UK, predicting the next generation of troublemakers. And as such data becomes available, the temptation to use it becomes almost irresistible.

That temptation was on full display following the rampage in a Colorado movie theatre in June 2012, when an isolated gunman went on a killing spree, murdering 12 people. A headline that appeared in the Wall Street Journal soon after the shooting says it all: “Can Data Mining Stop the Killing?” It won’t take long for this question to be answered in the affirmative.

In many respects, internet companies are in a much better position to predict crime than police. Where the latter need a warrant to assess someone’s private data, the likes of Facebook can look up their users’ data whenever they want. From the perspective of police, it might actually be advantageous to have Facebook do all this dirty work, because Facebook’s own investigations don’t have to go through the court system.

While Facebook probably feels too financially secure to turn this into a business – it would rather play up its role as a good citizen – smaller companies might not resist the temptation to make a quick buck. In 2011 TomTom, a Dutch satellite-navigation company that has now licensed some of its almighty technology to Apple, found itself in the middle of a privacy scandal when it emerged that it had been selling GPS driving data collected from customers to the police. Privacy advocate Chris Soghoian has likewise documented the easy-to-use “pay-and-wiretap” interfaces that various internet and mobile companies have established for law enforcement agencies.

Publicly available information is up for grabs too. Thus, police are already studying social-networking sites for signs of unrest, often with the help of private companies. The title of a recent brochure from Accenture urges law enforcement agencies to “tap the power of social media to drive better policing outcomes”. Plenty of companies are eager to help. ECM Universe, a start-up from Virginia, US, touts its system, called Rapid Content Analysis for Law Enforcement, which is described as “a social media surveillance solution providing real-time monitoring of Twitter, Facebook, Google groups, and many other communities where users express themselves freely”.

“The solution,” notes the ECM brochure, “employs text analytics to correlate threatening language to surveillance subjects, and alert investigators of warning signs.” What kind of warning signs? A recent article in the Washington Post notes that ECM Universe helped authorities in Fort Lupton, Colorado, identify a man who was tweeting such menacing things as “kill people” and “burn [expletive] school”. This seems straightforward enough but what if it was just “harm people” or “police suck”?

As companies like ECM Universe accumulate extensive archives of tweets and Facebook updates sent by actual criminals, they will also be able to predict the kinds of non-threatening verbal cues that tend to precede criminal acts. Thus, even tweeting that you don’t like your yoghurt might bring police to your door, especially if someone who tweeted the same thing three years before ended up shooting someone in the face later in the day.

However, unlike Facebook, neither police nor outside companies see the whole picture of what users do on social media platforms: private communications and “silent” actions – clicking links and opening pages – are invisible to them. But Facebook, Twitter, Google and similar companies surely know all of this – so their predictive power is much greater than the police’s. They can even rank users based on how likely they are to commit certain acts.

An apt illustration of how such a system can be abused comes from The Silicon Jungle, ostensibly a work of fiction written by a Google data-mining engineer and published by Princeton University Press – not usually a fiction publisher – in 2010. The novel is set in the data-mining operation of Ubatoo – a search engine that bears a striking resemblance to Google – where a summer intern develops Terrorist-o-Meter, a sort of universal score of terrorism aptitude that the company could assign to all its users. Those unhappy with their scores would, of course, get a chance to correct them – by submitting even more details about themselves. This might seem like a crazy idea but – in perhaps another allusion to Google – Ubatoo’s corporate culture is so obsessed with innovation that its interns are allowed to roam free, so the project goes ahead.

To build Terrorist-o-Meter, the intern takes a list of “interesting” books that indicate a potential interest in subversive activities and looks up the names of the customers who have bought them from one of Ubatoo’s online shops. Then he finds the websites that those customers frequent and uses the URLs to find even more people – and so on until he hits the magic number of 5,000. The intern soon finds himself pursued by both an al-Qaida-like terrorist group that wants those 5,000 names to boost its recruitment campaign, as well as various defence and intelligence agencies that can’t wait to preemptively ship those 5,000 people to Guantánamo.

…

Evgeny Morozov
The Observer, Saturday 9 March 2013 19.20 GMT

Find this story at 9 March 2013

© 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved.

Police scan your Facebook comments.Photo / File

Police have developed a specialist software tool which mines social media for information.

The Signal tool was developed for high-profile public events and emergencies and works by scanning public-facing material on social media networks such as Facebook and Twitter.

Police director of intelligence Mark Evans said it was “not typically” used as an evidence gathering or investigative tool although it could be.

Social media use by law enforcement around the world has grown with the International Association of Police Chiefs finding 77 per cent of agencies used it most commonly to investigate crime. The survey of 600 agencies across the United States found it had helped solve crimes.

Mr Evans said the tool was developed as part of preparations for the Rugby World Cup because police “wanted the ability to scan social media comments in and around the stadiums in real time”.

Since then, it had been used for royal visits, Waitangi Day and during the Auckland cyclone. Mr Evans said Signal was not used to crawl random postings. Instead, police would set a geographical area and put in key words.

As an example, he said a large sporting event could see “protest”, “traffic”, “accident” or “delays”.

He said the strength of Signal was its ability to help police “identify and analyse social media feeds relevant to crime and public safety” at a specific time and place.

In doing so, Mr Evans said police were able to judge the impact of an event which had happened or stop a problem escalating. It also helped target people and resources where they were needed, he said.

During the Rugby World Cup, it allowed police to detect a boy racer convoy heading from Auckland to Hamilton.

The drivers “felt they would be able to get away with dangerous behaviour on the roads because they believed police resources would be busy elsewhere”, he said.

…

Signal was developed as part of a $60,000 emergency management tool.

Global police use of social media

53 per cent – Created a fake profile or undercover identity
48 per cent – Posted surveillance video or images
86 per cent – Viewed profiles of suspects
49 per cent – Viewed profiles of victims

Source: IACP Social Media Survey 2012

By David Fisher @@DFisherJourno
5:30 AM Saturday Feb 23, 2013

Find this story at 23 February 2013

© Copyright 2013, APN Holdings NZ Limited

Er gilt als der böseste Deutsche im Internet: Martin Münch liefert Polizei und Geheimdiensten Überwachungs-Software. Auch Diktatoren drangsalieren mit den Programmen ihre Bürger.

Im Disney-Film “Mulan” ist alles so einfach. Die Heldin kämpft zusammen mit lauter Männern im chinesischen Militär gegen die Hunnen. Der Film zeichnet Mulans Gegner als schattige, gesichtslose Wesen. Die feindliche Reiterarmee verdunkelt den Horizont. Gut gegen Böse – ein Klassiker.

Martin Münch lebt in einem Disney-Film. Er weiß, wer die Bösen sind. Er weiß, dass er zu den Guten gehört. Es gibt nur ein Problem: Alle anderen wissen es nicht. Für sie steht Münch auf der falschen Seite des arabischen Frühlings, auf der Seite der Unterdrücker. Menschenrechtler prangern an, er liefere Überwachungssoftware an Diktaturen, willentlich oder leichtfertig.

Münch, 31, entwickelt Spähsoftware für Computer und Handys. Sie infiziert das digitale Gedächtnis, sie schnüffelt in der virtuellen Intimsphäre. Polizei und Geheimdienst können dank ihr sehen, welche Krankheitssymptome der Überwachte im Web googelt. Sie hören, was er mit der Mutter über das Internet-Telefon-Programm Skype bespricht. Sie lesen seinen Einkaufszettel auf dem Smartphone. Der Trojaner, der das alles kann, heißt Finfisher. Trojaner wird diese Art Software genannt, weil die Spionagefunktionen eingeschmuggelt werden in einer harmlosen Hülle.
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Martin Münchs Firma Gamma entwickelt den Trojaner Finfisher. (Foto: Robert Haas)

Seit kurzem testet auch das Bundeskriminalamt, ob Finfisher als Bundestrojaner taugt. Auf sein Produkt ist Münch stolz. Zum ersten Mal zeigte er jetzt deutschen Journalisten, dem NDR und der Süddeutschen Zeitung, wie Finfisher funktioniert. Bisher durften Medien nicht in die Entwicklerbüros in Obersendling in München.

Auf den Glastüren steht der Firmenname: Gamma Group. Ein Dutzend Mitarbeiter sitzt vor Bildschirmen, die Programmierer gleich vor mehreren. Hinter dem Bürostuhl des Chefs Münch hängt eine Aluminiumplatte mit dem Firmenlogo. Er teilt sich seinen Schreibtisch mit dem Kollegen, der den IT-Notruf betreut. Ihm gegenüber klingelt also das Telefon, wenn irgendwo auf der Welt die Strafverfolgung klemmt. Er ist also sehr nah dran an den Ermittlern, auch sprachlich. “Wenn wir Pädophile verhaften, haben wir ein Problem: Die sperren ihre Rechner automatisch”, sagt Münch, als fahre er bei den Einsätzen mit, und präsentiert schwungvoll die Lösung: einen USB-Stick von Gamma in den PC, und die Daten sind gerichtsfest gesichert.

Münch kann so technisches Spielzeug gut erklären. Vielleicht, weil er sich das alles selbst beigebracht hat. Er hat keine Fachausbildung, er hat nicht Informatik studiert, nur drei Semester Jazzklavier und Gitarre. Er war mit einer Band auf Deutschlandtournee, trat als Bassist einer Casting-Girlband bei “Popstars” auf. Steht er dagegen heute auf der Bühne, zeigt er auf Sicherheitskonferenzen, wie man Rechner infiziert. Für die Ermittler ist Münch ein bisschen wie Mushu, der kleine Drache aus “Mulan”, dem Disney-Film von 1998. Er ist der coole Helfer, der Mulan bei der Armeeausbildung und im Kampf beisteht. Münch hat eine Firma, über die er 15 Prozent der Anteile der Gamma International GmbH hält. Er hat sie Mushun genannt, nach dem Drachen aus dem Film, nur mit einem zusätzlichen “n” am Ende, sagt er. Dann lacht er verlegen. Doch ist er nicht nur Miteigentümer, sondern auch Geschäftsführer bei Gamma.

Mit Medien hat Münch noch nicht viel Erfahrung. Der Süddeutschen Zeitung und dem britischen Guardian liegen Dokumente vor, die zeigen, dass die Gamma-Gruppe eine Firma im Steuerparadies Britische Jungferninseln besitzt. Darauf angesprochen, bestritt Münch vor einigen Wochen erst vehement, dass die Gesellschaft überhaupt existiert. Als der Guardian dann Belege schickte, entschuldigte er sich. Er habe gedacht, dass die Tochter wirklich nicht existiert, schrieb er nach London. Auch nun beantwortet Geschäftsführer Münch Fragen zum Geschäft immer wieder ausweichend. Zahlen, Firmenpartner kenne er nicht. “Ich bin ein kleiner Techniker”, sagt Münch. Die strategischen Entscheidungen in der Firma treffe aber trotzdem er.
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So bewirbt der Gamma-Prospekt den Trojaner für Handys namens Finspy Mobile.

Gammas Bestseller aus der Finfisher-Familie heißt Finspy. Münch beugt sich über den Apple-Laptop und zeigt, was das Programm kann. Er steckt das Internetkabel in den Rechner und tippt “mjm” in das Feld für den Benutzernamen, für Martin Johannes Münch. Zuerst wählt der Nutzer das Betriebssystem aus, das er angreifen will: ein iPhone von Apple, ein Handy mit Googles Betriebssystem Android oder einen PC mit Windows oder dem kostenlosen System Linux? Der Ermittler kann eingeben, über wie viele Server in verschiedenen Ländern der Trojaner Haken schlägt, bis auch technisch versierte Opfer nicht mehr nachvollziehen können, wer sie da eigentlich überwacht. Der Trojaner kann ein Sterbedatum bekommen, an dem er sich selbst löscht. Genehmigt ein Richter später eine längere Überwachung, kann das Datum nach hinten geschoben werden.

Dann darf der Ermittler auswählen, wie fies der Trojaner werden soll, was er können darf: das Mikrofon als Wanze benutzen. Gespeicherte Dateien sichten und sichern, wenn sie gelöscht oder geändert werden. Mitlesen, welche Buchstaben der Nutzer auf der Tastatur drückt. Den Bildschirm abfilmen. Skype-Telefonate mitschneiden. Die Kamera des Rechners anschalten und sehen, wo das Gerät steht. Handys über die GPS-Ortungsfunktion zum Peilsender machen. Finspy präsentiert die überwachten Geräte als Liste. Flaggen zeigen, in welchem Land sich das Ziel befindet. Ein Doppelklick, und der Ermittler ist auf dem Rechner.

Der Trojaner ist so mächtig, als würde jemand dem Computernutzer über die Schulter gucken. Deswegen kommen Ermittler so auch Verdächtigen auf die Schliche, die ihre Festplatte mit einem Passwort sichern und nur verschlüsselt kommunizieren. Der Trojaner liest einfach das Passwort mit. Doch die meisten Funktionen von Finspy sind in Deutschland illegal.

Und Finspy kostet. Der Preis geht bei etwa 150.000 Euro los und kann ins siebenstellige gehen, sagt Münch. Denn Gamma baut für jeden Kunden eine eigene Version des Trojaners, die mit dem Recht des Landes konform sein soll. Für jeden überwachten Computer müssen Ermittler eine Lizenz von Gamma kaufen. Die meisten Behörden würden fünf Lizenzen erwerben, sagt Münch, manchmal vielleicht auch zwanzig. “Ziel sind einzelne Straftäter.” Ein “mutmaßlich” benutzt er nicht, im Gespräch verwendet er die Worte “Kriminelle” und “Straftäter”, als seien es Synonyme für “Verdächtige” und “Zielperson”.

Alaa Shehabi ist so eine Zielperson. Ihr Vergehen: Sie kritisierte die Regierung ihres Landes. Die junge Frau ist in Bahrain geboren, einem Inselstaat im Persischen Golf, etwa so groß wie das Stadtgebiet von Hamburg. Ein Königreich – und ein Polizeistaat. Der sunnitische Regent Hamad Ben Isa al-Khalifa herrscht über eine schiitische Bevölkerungsmehrheit. Als der arabische Frühling vor zwei Jahren auch in sein Land schwappte und Shehabi mit Tausend anderen Reformen forderte, rief der König die Armee von Saudi-Arabien zur Hilfe. Fotos und Videos im Internet zeigen geschundene Körper, von Tränengas verätzte Augen und von Schrotkugeln durchlöcherte Leiber. Es sind die Bilder eines blutig niedergeschlagenen Protestes.
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Die Polizei greift mit Tränengas an: Bei Protesten starben Demonstranten (Foto: Getty Images)

Die Formel-1-Veranstalter sahen darin kein Problem und luden vergangenen April zum Großen Preis von Manama, einem glitzernden Großereignis mitten in einem gebeutelten Land. König Khalifa wollte zeigen, wie weltoffen Bahrain sei. Die Opposition hingegen versuchte, zumindest einigen angereisten Journalisten die Wahrheit zu berichten. Auch Shehabi, die ihre dunklen Haare unter einem Schleier verbirgt, traf sich mit Reportern. Sie erzählte von der Polizeigewalt, von den Verletzten, den Toten. Sie brach ein Tabu.

Shehabi war vorsichtig, achtete darauf, dass niemand sie beobachtete, schaltete während des Interviews ihr Handy aus. Trotzdem besuchten Polizisten sie wenig später. Sie fragten, was sie den Journalisten erzählt habe, und warnten sie, so etwas nie wieder zu tun. Die Beamten ließen sie laufen, doch dann kam die erste E-Mail. Im Betreff stand “torture report on Nabeel Rajab”, im Anhang angeblich Fotos des gefolterten Rajab. Er ist ein Freund Shehabis, ein Oppositioneller wie sie. Shehabi versuchte, die Datei zu öffnen. Es ging nicht. Gut für sie: Denn im Anhang war ein Trojaner von Gamma versteckt. Shehabis E-Mails sollten mitgelesen, ihre Telefonate abgehört werden. Der Polizeistaat Bahrain hatte sie im Visier, und Martin Münchs Software half dabei. Auch andere Oppositionelle berichten von ominösen E-Mails. Mal lockten sie ihre Opfer damit, dass der König zum Dialog bereit sei, mal mit vermeintlichen Folterfotos.

Selbst im Ausland haben Exil-Bahrainer diesen Regierungs-Spam bekommen. Husain Abdulla etwa, der im US-Bundesstaat Alabama eine Tankstelle betreibt und in Washington Lobbyarbeit für Bahrains Opposition macht. Das Königshaus hat ihm deswegen die Staatsbürgerschaft entzogen, wollte ihn aber trotzdem überwachen und schickte ihm einen Trojaner. Die bahrainische Regierung versuchte also, auf US-Boden einen US-Bürger auszuspähen. Gamma macht’s möglich: “Wenn Finspy Mobile auf einem Handy installiert ist, kann es aus der Ferne überwacht werden, wo auch immer sich das Ziel in der Welt befindet”, heißt es dazu in einem Prospekt.

Die Universität von Toronto in Kanada hat die EMails an Shehabi und Abdulla untersucht. An ihrem Forschungsinstitut Citizen Lab entschlüsselte Morgan Marquis-Boire, Software-Ingenieur bei Google, das Spähprogramm. Er baut einen virtuellen Sandkasten, setzt einen Computer in die Mitte und lässt den Trojaner auf das abgegrenzte Spielfeld. Dann protokolliert Marquis-Boire, wie das Programm den PC kapert, Passwörter kopiert, Skype-Gespräche aufzeichnet, den Bildschirm abfotografiert. Die gesammelten Daten funkt der Trojaner an einen Server in Bahrain. Marquis-Boire entdeckt im Programmcode das Kürzel “finspyv2” – die zweite Version von Finspy. Auch “Martin Muench” steht da. Münch schreibt seinen Namen seit Jahren mit “ue”.
Citizen Lab fand Münchs Namen im Code des Trojaners. (Foto: Citizen Lab)

Schnüffelsoftware für einen Polizeistaat? Auf die Vorwürfe reagiert Gamma merkwürdig. Münch verschickt eine Pressemitteilung, in der steht, dass eine Demoversion für Kunden gestohlen worden sei. Eine klare Aussage zu Bahrain gibt es nicht. Münch sagt nicht, wer Gammas Kunden sind. Er sagt auch nicht, wer nicht Kunde ist. Alles ganz geheim. So muss die Firma damit leben, dass Reporter ohne Grenzen und andere Menschenrechtsaktivisten in dieser Woche eine offizielle Beschwerde beim Bundeswirtschaftsministerium einlegten. Sie verlangen schärfere Kontrollen, wohin Gamma exportiert, und berufen sich dabei auf – allerdings freiwillige – Empfehlungen der Organisation für wirtschaftliche Zusammenarbeit und Entwicklung (OECD). Nimmt das Ministerium die Beschwerde an, könnten als nächster Schritt Gamma und die Aktivisten versuchen, hinter verschlossenen Türen im Ministerium eine Einigung zu finden.

Münch wiederholt bei jeder Gelegenheit, dass seine Firma die Exportgesetze in Deutschland einhält. Das soll vorbildlich wirken, aber in Wirklichkeit werden aus München gar keine Finfisher-Produkte verschickt. Das geschieht von England aus. In Andover, nicht weit von Stonehenge, sitzt die Muttergesellschaft von Gamma International, die Gamma Group. Gründer und neben Münch Mehrheitseigentümer ist Louthean Nelson; die Gruppe beschäftigt 85 Mitarbeiter.

In Großbritannien und Deutschland gilt allerdings dieselbe EU-Verordnung über den Export von Überwachungstechnik. Überwachungstechnologien sind im Sinne dieses Gesetzes keine Waffen, sondern Güter, die sowohl zivil als auch militärisch genutzt werden können. Fachwort: dual use. Dementsprechend sind die Auflagen deutlich harmloser als für Panzerverkäufe. Am Ende läuft es darauf hinaus, dass Gamma vom Kunden ein Zertifikat bekommt, demzufolge Finfisher wirklich beim richtigen Adressaten installiert wurde, gestempelt vom Staat selbst. Das Papier heftet Gamma ab. Wie oft und genau das Bundesamt für Ausfuhrkontrolle Gamma prüft, wollen weder Münch noch das dafür zuständige Bundeswirtschaftsministerium sagen.

Wie viele Diktaturen Gamma-Kunden sind, ist nicht bekannt. Das Institut Citizen Lab aus Toronto hat in vielen Ländern Server mit Spuren von Finfisher gefunden. Brunei, Äthiopien, Turkmenistan, die Vereinigten Arabischen Emirate – klingt wie das Kellerduell im Demokratie-Ranking. Doch auch in Staaten wie Tschechien und den Niederlanden fanden die Informatiker Gamma-Server. All diese Länder müssen aber nicht Kunden sein. Jeder Geheimdienst könne schließlich die Daten seines Finfisher-Trojaners durch diese Staaten umleiten, um sich zu tarnen, erklärt Münch. Solche Aussagen können Externe technisch nicht überprüfen.

In der ungeliebten Öffentlichkeit steht Gamma seit dem arabischen Frühling. Ägyptische Protestler fanden in einer Behörde ein Angebot der Firma an ihre gestürzte Regierung, einen Kostenvoranschlag für Software, Hardware, Training, 287.137 Euro. Eine Lieferung habe es nie gegeben, behauptet Münch.

Für Andy Müller-Maguhn ist Gamma trotzdem ein “Software-Waffenlieferant”. Er hat eine Webseite zu dem Thema aufgesetzt mit dem Namen buggedplanet.info. Dort protokolliert er Unternehmensdaten, Presseberichte, verwickelte Personen. Müller-Maguhn war früher Sprecher des Chaos Computer Clubs. Ein Video auf Youtube zeigt, wie er sein Projekt 2011 auf der Jahreskonferenz des deutschen Hackervereins präsentiert. Müller-Maguhn ruft seine Seite über Münch auf; die erscheint auf einer Leinwand, mit Geburtsdatum, Privatadresse und Foto von Münch. Der steigt da gerade aus einer Cessna, mit Sonnenbrille und Fliegerjacke, und sieht ein bisschen proletenmäßig aus. Müller-Maguhns Zuschauer lachen.

Seine Webseite ist auch ein Pranger. “Dass ihre privaten Details in der Öffentlichkeit diskutiert wurden, halte ich für sehr fair, wenn man sich anschaut, was die mit den Leben anderer gemacht haben”, sagt Müller-Maguhn auf der Bühne. “Ich glaube, das ist ein Weg, damit die Leute über Privatsphäre nachdenken.” Applaus und Jubel sind kurz lauter als seine Stimme. Er zuckt mit den Schultern. “Sie wollten nicht am öffentlichen Diskurs teilnehmen. Das wäre vielleicht die Alternative.”

Seit seine Adresse bekannt ist, bekommt Münch Postkarten, auf denen nur steht: “Ich habe ein Recht auf Privatsphäre.” Kein Absender.

Spricht Münch über seine Kritiker, klingt er ehrlich entrüstet: “Wir haben immer dieses Bad-Boy-Image. Ist aber kein schönes Gefühl.” Zumal es unverdient sei: “Manche Leute sagen: ,Das mag ich nicht, das geht ins Privatleben.’ Aber die Tatsache, dass sie es nicht mögen, heißt nicht, dass wir etwas Illegales machen.” Er selbst finde zum Beispiel die Fernsehsendung Deutschland sucht den Superstar “scheiße”, aber deswegen sei die nicht illegal.

…

Quelle: SZ vom 09.02.2013/bbr

9. Februar 2013 10:46 Finfisher-Entwickler Gamma
Von Bastian Brinkmann, Jasmin Klofta und Frederik Obermaier

Find this story at 9 February 2013

Copyright: Süddeutsche Zeitung Digitale Medien GmbH / Süddeutsche Zeitung GmbH

John Catt, who has no criminal record, wins legal action to have records deleted from police database of suspected extremists

An 88-year-old campaigner has won a landmark lawsuit against police chiefs who labelled him a “domestic extremist” and logged his political activities on a secret database.

The ruling by three senior judges puts pressure on the police, already heavily criticised for running undercover operatives in political groups, to curtail their surveillance of law-abiding protesters.

The judges decided police chiefs acted unlawfully by secretly keeping a detailed record of John Catt’s presence at more than 55 protests over a four-year period.

The entries described Catt’s habit of drawing sketches of the demonstrations. Details of the surveillance, which recorded details of his appearance such as “clean-shaven” and slogans on his clothes, were revealed by the Guardian in 2010.

The pensioner, who has no criminal record, is among thousands of political campaigners recorded on the database by the same covert unit that has been embedding spies such as Mark Kennedy – a police officer who infiltrated environmental protest groups – in political movements for more than a decade.

On Thursday Lord Dyson, who is the Master of the Rolls, and two other appeal court judges ordered Bernard Hogan-Howe, the commissioner of the Metropolitan police, to delete Catt’s file from the database, ruling that the surveillance had significantly violated his human rights.

The judges noted that the police could not explain why it was necessary to record Catt’s political activities in minute detail.

Lawyers for the police had argued that the anti-war activist regularly attended demonstrations against a Brighton arms factory near his home, which had at times descended into disorder.

The judges dismissed arguments from Adrian Tudway, the police chief then in charge of the covert unit, that police needed to monitor Catt because he “associates closely with violent” campaigners against the factory of the EDO arms firm.

They said it was “striking” that Tudway had not said the records held on the pensioner had helped police in any way.

“Mr Tudway states, in general terms, that it is valuable to have information about Mr Catt’s attendance at protests because he associates with those who have a propensity to violence and crime, but he does not explain why that is so, given that Mr Catt has been attending similar protests for many years without it being suggested that he indulges in criminal activity or actively encourages those that do.”

The judges added that it appeared that officers had been recording “the names of any persons they can identify, regardless of the particular nature of their participation”.

Catt said: “I hope this judgment will bring an end to the abusive and intimidatory monitoring of peaceful protesters by police forces nationwide.

“Police surveillance of this kind only serves to undermine our democracy and deter lawful protest.”

A similar court of appeal ruling four years ago forced the Met to remove 40% of photographs of campaigners held on another database.

In a separate ruling, which also challenged the police’s practice of storing the public’s personal data on databases, the three judges ordered the Met to erase a warning that had been issued against an unnamed woman.

Three years ago officers had warned the woman for allegedly making a homophobic comment about a neighbour. But she argued that police had treated her unfairly as she had not been given an opportunity to respond to the allegation.

She took legal action to prevent the Met keeping a copy of the warning notice on their files for 12 years. She feared it could be disclosed to employers when they checked her criminal record.

…

Rob Evans, Paul Lewis and Owen Bowcott
The Guardian, Thursday 14 March 2013 16.46 GMT

Find this story at 14 March 2013
© 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved.

Inquest told the victim’s wheelchair was not secured and he died when it tipped over

A double amputee died when his unsecured wheelchair tipped over backwards as he was being transported to hospital in an ambulance operated by under-fire outsourcing firm G4S.

An inquest jury found that the driver and staff of the security firm had not received sufficient training to move patients safely between their homes, hospitals and clinics.

Retired newsagent Palaniappan Thevarayan, 47, suffered fatal head injuries when his wheelchair came loose from the floor clamps in the back of the vehicle taking him to St Helier Hospital, in Sutton, Surrey, from a dialysis centre in Epsom hospital in May 2011.

The jury at Westminster Magistrates Court this week heard that driver John Garner, who had worked for the company since 2005, and fellow G4S staff had not had their manual handling training updated since 2009. G4S, which was heavily criticised for its failure to recruit enough security guards for last year’s Olympic Games, operates public sector contracts in border control, security, prisoner and patient transport worth £350million a year. The global security company continues to work with St Helier along with four other NHS Trusts in the London area carrying out 400,000 patient journeys a year.

Westminster Coroners Court heard that Mr Thevarayan’s wheelchair tipped backwards resulting in a serious head injury. It emerged that the chair had not been attached to the ambulance floor by the necessary ratchet clamps and was not securely restrained. He was being taken to hospital after developing problems with a blocked catheter.

Delivering a narrative verdict, the jury said: “Patient transport service staff were not sufficiently trained in the safe transportation of patients by ambulance.”

Mr Thevarayan, who was originally from India, had previously had both legs amputated after suffering complications with his diabetes. He was undergoing dialysis three times a week for kidney failure and was nearing the top of the transplant list.

The inquest heard that he had to wait for more than six hours for emergency surgery after being transferred to St George’s Hospital, Tooting, following the incident. His wife and full time carer Nirmala said he had been given only a 50:50 chance of survival if operated on immediately.

She told the inquest she wanted answers about his treatment by G4S and wanted to know why it had taken so long for him to receive surgery. ‘I want to know why they didn’t look after him properly’, she said. “And in hospital, why did they take so long to treat him?” she added.

Assistant deputy coroner Kevin McLoughlin said to Mrs Thevarayan and her son and daughter who sat through the four-day inquest: “I pay tribute to the calm dignity which you and your family have conducted yourself through what must have been heart-breaking evidence.”

In a statement G4S said: “We can confirm that the member of staff involved in this tragic incident had received all the mandatory training required at the time.

“Following this incident we immediately installed an additional team of professionals to review our procedures and ensure that training fully covers all points pertinent to this incident. Improvements have been made to our systems for recording training, and the content of our staff training has been reviewed and enhanced to address lessons learned from this incident.”

…

JONATHAN BROWN

Friday 08 March 2013

Find this story at 8 March 2013

© independent.co.uk

The company which failed to meet its Olympics security contract confirms a big fall in profits.

Annual profits fell by a worse than expected 32% at G4S, the firm at the centre of last year’s Olympics security fiasco.

Pre-tax profit for 2012 dropped to £175m from £257m the previous year as a result of a £70m loss on its contract to supply security personnel to the Olympic and Paralympic Games in London.

The Armed Forces had to be called in to cover staff shortfalls when G4S admitted just ahead of the Games that it had failed to hire enough guards to cover its contract.

It had been obliged to provide 10,400 people but managed to fulfil 83% of its contracted shifts.

The failures led to chief operating officer David Taylor-Smith and Ian Horseman Sewell, who was head of global events, to quit their jobs while chief executive Nick Buckles remained in his post.

Mr Buckles told MPs on the Home Affairs Select Committee in July that the staffing failure was a fiasco and a “humiliating shambles”.

A report for G4S by auditors PwC found that monitoring and tracking of the security workforce was inadequate and that management failed to appreciate the scale and exact nature of the project.

…

8:27am UK, Wednesday 13 March 2013

Find this story at 13 March 2013

Copyright ©2013 BSkyB

G4S failed to supply enough personnel for the London 2012 Olympics, forcing the Government to draft in soldiers Getty Images

G4S’s Olympics fiasco drove annual profits down by a third at the security company last year.

The company also announced this morning that its chief financial officer, Trevor Dighton, would retire on April 30. He will be replaced by Ashley Almanza, who held the same position at energy company BG Group.

…

Katherine Griffiths
Last updated at 12:08PM, March 13 2013

Find this story at 13 March 2013

© Times Newspapers Limited 2013

Mark Jenner lived with a woman under a fake name. Now she has testified to MPs about the ‘betrayal and humiliation’ she felt

Mark Jenner, the undercover officer in the Metropolitan police’s special demonstration squad, who went by the name of Mark Cassidy for six years – then disappeared.

He was a burly, funny scouser called Mark Cassidy. His girlfriend – a secondary school teacher he shared a flat with for four years – believed they were almost “man and wife”. Then, in 2000, as the couple were discussing plans for the future, Cassidy suddenly vanished, never to be seen again.

An investigation by the Guardian has established that his real name is Mark Jenner. He was an undercover police officer in the Metropolitan police’s special demonstration squad (SDS), one of two units that specialised in infiltrating protest groups.

His girlfriend, whose story can be told for the first time as her evidence to a parliamentary inquiry is made public, said living with a police spy has had an “enormous impact” on her life.

“It has impacted seriously on my ability to trust, and that has impacted on my current relationship and other subsequent relationships,” she said, adopting the pseudonym Alison. “It has also distorted my perceptions of love and my perceptions of sex.”

Alison is one of four women to testify to the House of Commons home affairs select committee last month.

Another woman said she had been psychologically traumatised after discovering that the father of her child, who she thought had disappeared, was Bob Lambert, a police spy who vanished from her life in the late 1980s.

A third woman, speaking publicly for the first time about her six-year relationship with Mark Kennedy, a police officer who infiltrated environmental protest groups, said: “You could … imagine that your phone might be tapped or that somebody might look at your emails, but to know that there was somebody in your bed for six years, that somebody was involved in your family life to such a degree, that was an absolute shock.”

Their moving testimony led the committee to declare that undercover operations have had a “terrible impact” on the lives of innocent women.

The MPs are so troubled about the treatment of the women – as well as the “ghoulish” practice in which undercover police adopted the identities of dead children – that they have called for an urgent clean-up of the laws governing covert surveillance operations.

Jenner infiltrated leftwing political groups from 1994 to 2000, pretending to be a joiner interested in radical politics. For much of his deployment, he was under the command of Lambert, who was by then promoted to head of operations of the SDS.

While posing as Cassidy, he could be coarse but also irreverent and funny. The undercover officer saw himself as something of a poet. A touch over 6ft, he had a broad neck, large shoulders and exuded a tough, working-class quality.

By the spring of 1995, Jenner began a relationship with Alison and soon moved into her flat. “We lived together as what I would describe as man and wife,” she said. “He was completely integrated into my life for five years.”

Jenner met her relatives, who trusted him as her long-term partner. He accompanied Alison to her mother’s second wedding. “He is in my mother’s wedding photograph,” she said. Family videos of her nephew’s and niece’s birthdays show Jenner teasing his girlfriend fondly. Others record him telling her late grandmother about his fictionalised family background.

Alison, a peaceful campaigner involved in leftwing political causes, believes she inadvertently provided the man she knew as Mark Cassidy with “an excellent cover story”, helping persuade other activists he was a genuine person.

“People trusted me, people knew that I was who I said I was, and people believed, therefore, that he must be who he said he was because he was welcomed into my family,” she said.

It was not unusual for undercover operatives working for the SDS or its sister squad, the national public order unit, to have sexual relationships with women they were spying on. Of the 11 undercover police officers publicly identified, nine had intimate sexual relations with activists. Most were long-term, meaningful relationships with women who believed they were in a loving partnership.

Usually these spies were told to spend at least one or two days a week off-duty, when they would change clothes and return to their real lives. However, Jenner, who had a wife, appears to have lived more or less permanently with Alison, rarely leaving their shared flat in London.

It was an arrangement that caused personal problems for the Jenners. At one stage, he is known to have attended counselling to repair his relationship with his wife. Bizarrely, at about the same time, he was also consulting a second relationship counsellor with Alison.

“I met him when I was 29,” she said. “It was the time when I wanted to have children, and for the last 18 months of our relationship he went to relationship counselling with me about the fact that I wanted children and he did not.”

Jenner disentangled himself from the deployment in 2000, disappearing suddenly from Alison’s flat after months pretending to suffer from depression.

The police spy left her a note which read: “We want different things. I can’t cope … When I said I loved you, I meant it, but I can’t do it.” He claimed he was going to Germany to look for work.

It was all standard procedure for the SDS. Some operatives ended their deployments by pretending to have a breakdown and vanishing, supposedly to go abroad, sending a few letters to their girlfriends with foreign postmarks.

Alison was left heartbroken and paranoid, feeling that she was losing her mind. She spent more than a decade investigating Jenner’s background, hiring a private detective to try to track him down. She had no idea he was actually working a few miles away at Scotland Yard, where he is understood to still work as a police officer today.

The strongest clue to Jenner’s real identity came from an incident she recalled from years earlier when he was still living with her. “I discovered he made an error with a credit card about a year and a half into our relationship,” she said. “It was in the name Jenner and I asked him what it was and he told me he bought it off a man in a pub and he had never used it. He asked me to promise to never tell anyone.”

The Metropolitan police refused to comment on whether Jenner was a police spy. “We are not prepared to confirm or deny the deployment of individuals on specific operations,” it said.

Alison told MPs that the “betrayal and humiliation” she suffered was beyond normal. “This is not about just a lying boyfriend or a boyfriend who has cheated on you,” she said. “It is about a fictional character who was created by the state and funded by taxpayers’ money. The experience has left me with many, many unanswered questions, and one of those that comes back is: how much of the relationship was real?”

Paul Lewis and Rob Evans
The Guardian, Friday 1 March 2013

Find this story at 1 March 2013

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Inquiry hears claims of 10 or more women having sexual relations with undercover officer who infiltrated eco-activists

Mark Kennedy’s evidence saying he had sexual relationships with two people is disputed by women taking legal action against the police. Photograph: Philipp Ebeling

Mark Kennedy, the police spy who infiltrated the environmental movement, appears to have misled parliament over the number of sexual relationships he had with women while he was working undercover.

Kennedy told a parliamentary inquiry that he had only two relationships during the seven years he spied on environmental groups.

However, at least four women had come forward to say that he slept with them when he was a police spy.

Friends who knew Kennedy when he was living as an eco-activist in Nottingham have identified more than 10 women with whom he slept.

Kennedy was the only undercover police officer to give evidence to the inquiry conducted by the home affairs select committee.

He testified in private, but transcripts of his evidence released on Thursday reveal that he claimed he had sexual relationships with “two individuals”.

But three women who say they are Kennedy’s former lovers are part of an 11-strong group taking legal action against police chiefs for damages.

A fourth, named Anna, previously told the Guardian she felt “violated” by her sexual relationship with Kennedy, which lasted several months.

…

Rob Evans and Paul Lewis
The Guardian, Friday 1 March 2013

Find this story at 1 March 2013

© 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved.

Here you can browse the report which was ordered by the House of Commons to be printed 26 February 2013.

Find this story at 1 March 2013

Contents

Terms of Reference

Introduction

The legal framework governing undercover policing

Responsibility for undercover policing

The use of dead infants’ identities

Operation Herne

Conclusion

Conclusions and recommendations

Formal Minutes

Witnesses

List of printed written evidence

List of Reports from the Committee during the current Parliament

Oral and Written Evidence

5 February 2013 i

5 February 2013 ii

5 February 2013 iii

5 February 2013 iv

Written Evidence

The story of Bob Lambert reveals just how far police may have gone to infiltrate political groups

The grave of Mark Robinson and his parents in Branksome cemetery in Poole, Dorset. Bob Lambert adopted the boy’s identity, abbreviating his second name to Bob. Photograph: Roger Tooth for the Guardian

The words inscribed on the grave say Mark Robinson “fell asleep” on 19 October, 1959. He was a seven-year-old boy who died of a congenital heart defect, the only child to Joan and William Robinson. They died in 2009 and are buried in the same grave, listed on the headstone as “Mummy” and “Daddy”.

It is perhaps some solace that Mark’s parents never lived long enough to discover how the identity of their son may have been quietly resurrected by undercover police without their knowledge. The controversial tactic – in which covert officers spying on protesters adopted the identities of dead children – stopped less than a decade ago. More than 100 children’s identities may have been used.

Last week the home secretary, Theresa May, announced that a chief constable from Derbyshire would take over an inquiry into undercover policing of protest, after revelations by the Guardian into the use of stolen identities.

Despite an internal investigation that has cost £1.25m, senior officers seem genuinely baffled at the activities of two apparently rogue units that have been monitoring political campaigners since 1968.

The story of the officer who appears to have used the identity of Mark Robinson, adopting it as his own, reveals much of what has gone wrong with police infiltration of political groups. Bob Lambert, who posed as an animal rights campaigner in the 1980s, not only adopted the identity of a dead child. He was also accused in parliament of carrying out an arson attack on a Debenhams department store and deceiving two women into having long-term sexual relationships with him.

One of them has now revealed how Lambert fathered a child with her before vanishing from their lives when his deployment came to an end in 1989. She only discovered he was an undercover police officer eight months ago – more than 20 years after he disappeared from the lives of mother and child, claiming to be on the run.

Using the pseudonym Charlotte, she said in a statement to the home affairs select committee: “There can be no excuses for what he did: for the betrayal, the manipulation and the lies … I loved him so much, but now have to accept that he never existed.”

Gravestone

The story of how Bob Lambert became Bob Robinson begins on the outskirts of Poole, Dorset, in 1983. For almost 25 years, a sculpture of the boy stood guard above the grave in Branksome cemetery. “Safe in the arms of Jesus,” the engraving said.

Lambert would have come across the boy’s paperwork in St Catherine’s House, the national register of births, deaths and marriages. It was a rite of passage for all spies working in the Special Demonstration Squad (SDS), a unit dedicated to spying on protesters. For ease of use, SDS officers looked to adopt the identities of dead children who shared their name and approximate date of birth. They called it “the Jackal Run”, after its fictional depiction in Frederick Forsyth’s novel The Day of the Jackal.

Mark Robinson was the ideal match. He was born in Plumstead, south-east London, on 28 February, 1952 – just 16 days before Lambert’s date of birth. His second name was Robert, which the spy could abbreviate to Bob. He died of acute congestive cardiac failure after being born with a malformed heart. Other SDS officers are known to have chosen children who died of leukaemia or were killed in road accidents.

Undercover police did not merely adopt the names of dead children, but revived entire identities, researching their family backgrounds and secretly visiting the homes they were brought up in.

When the spy made his debut in London as a long-haired anti-capitalist, he introduced himself as Bob Robinson and said he was born in Plumstead. He had fake identity documents, including a driving licence in the name of Mark Robinson. Recently, he is understood to have said his full undercover alias was Mark Robert Robinson. The date of birth he gave is still in a diary entry of one close friend: it was the same date as that of the dead child.
Bob Lambert, aka Bob Robinson Photograph: guardian.co.uk

Double life

It was the start of a surreal double life. For most of the week he lived as Robinson, a gardener and active member of the environmental group London Greenpeace. For one or two days a week, he returned to the more conventional life with his wife and children in Hertfordshire. SDS insiders say Lambert was revered as one of the best operatives in the field. He helped jail two activists from the Animal Liberation Front who were convicted of planting incendiary devices in branches of Debenhams in protest at the sale of fur in July1987.

Lambert’s relationship with Charlotte, then 22, helped bolster his undercover credibility. When they met in 1984, Lambert was her first serious relationship, and 12 years her senior.

“He got involved in animal rights and made himself a useful member of the group by ferrying us around in his van,” she said. “He was always around, wherever I turned he was there trying to make himself useful, trying to get my attention. I believed at the time that he shared my beliefs and principles. In fact, he would tease me for not being committed enough.”

Around Christmas that year, Charlotte became pregnant. “Bob seemed excited by the news and he was caring and supportive throughout the pregnancy,” she said. “Bob was there by my side through the 14 hours of labour in the autumn of 1985 when our son was born. He seemed to be besotted with the baby. I didn’t realise then that he was already married with two other children.”

Two years later, Lambert’s deployment came to an end. He told friends police were on his tail and he needed to flee to Spain. “He promised he would never abandon his son and said that as soon as it was safe I could bring our baby to Spain to see him,” Charlotte said. Instead, the man she knew as Bob Robinson disappeared forever.

She was left to bring up their son as a single parent. It was an impoverished life, made worse because there was no way she could receive child maintenance payments. “At that time I blamed myself a lot for the break-up and for the fact that my son had lost his father,” she said.

When Charlotte’s son became older, the pair tried to track down Bob Robinson, who they presumed was still living in Spain. They could not have known he was working just a few miles away.

In the mid-1990s, Lambert was promoted to head of operations at the SDS, giving him overarching responsibility for a fleet of other spies. Just like their boss, they adopted the identities of dead children before going undercover to cultivate long-term and intimate relationships with women. That was the unit’s tradecraft and Lambert, with his experience in the field, was its respected spymaster. “I chatted to Bob about everything.” said Pete Black, an SDS officer who infiltrated anti-racist groups under Lambert. “You used to go in with any sort of problems, and if he could not work out how to get you out of the shit, then you were fucked.”

After his senior role in the SDS, Lambert rose through the ranks of special branch and, in the aftermath of 9/11, founded the Muslim Contact Unit, which sought to foster partnerships between police and the Islamic community.

Intimate relationships

He was awarded an MBE for services to policing and retired to start a fresh career in academia, with posts at St Andrews and Exeter universities.

‘It was my Bob’

In 2011, Lambert’s past returned to haunt him. That year Mark Kennedy, another police spy, was revealed to have spent seven years infiltrating eco activists. He had several intimate relationships with women, including one that lasted six years. Kennedy worked for the National Public Order Intelligence Unit, another squad dedicated to monitoring protesters and the second, according to the Metropolitan police, believed to have used the identities of dead children.

Amid the outcry over Kennedy’s deployment, there was a renewed push among activists to unmask police infiltrators. It was some of Lambert’s old friends in London Greenpeace who eventually made the connection, comparing YouTube videos of Lambert speeches with grainy photographs of Bob Robinson in the 1980s.

Lambert was giving a talk in a London auditorium when members of the audience – veterans from London Greenpeace – confronted him about his undercover past. He left the stage and walked out of a side door. Outside, he was stony-faced as he was chased down the street by a handful of ageing campaigners. He jumped into a taxi and melted into the afternoon traffic.

It was only the start of a cascade of claims to tarnish the senior officer’s reputation. In June last year, the Green MP Caroline Lucas used a parliamentary speech to allege that Lambert planted one of three incendiary devices in branches of Debenhams. No one was hurt in the attack on the Harrow store, in north-west London, which caused £340,000 worth of damage. Pointing to evidence that suggested Lambert planted the device, the MP asked: “Has another undercover police officer crossed the line into acting as an agent provocateur?”

…

Rob Evans and Paul Lewis
The Guardian, Thursday 21 February 2013 18.00 GMT

Find this story at 21 February 2013
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Met police’s deputy assistant commissioner admits to Commons committee that both units broke internal guidelines

Keith Vaz, chairman of the Commons home affairs committee, criticised the Met police for not apologising for the ‘gruesome’ practice. Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian

Police chiefs have admitted that a second undercover unit stole the identities of dead children in the late 1990s or even more recently in a series of operations to infiltrate political activists.

Growing evidence of the scale of the unauthorised technique – nicknamed the “jackal run” after its fictional depiction in Frederick Forsyth’s novel The Day of the Jackal – now means the number of families affected could total more than 100.

The Metropolitan police’s deputy assistant commissioner Patricia Gallan told a parliamentary inquiry that both secret police units broke internal guidelines when they employed the technique, which MPs criticised as “gruesome” and “very distressing”.

She had been called to give evidence to the Commons home affairs committee following the Guardian’s disclosures that the Metropolitan police had secretly used the tactic without consulting or informing the children’s parents in order to bolster their fake persona when operating undercover.

But, despite mounting concern over the practice, she declined to apologise to the families of the children until Scotland Yard had completed an internal investigation.

She said: “I do absolutely appreciate the concern and I understand the upset and why people are very distressed about this.”

Keith Vaz, chairman of the committee, told her: “I’m disappointed that you’ve not used the opportunity to be able to send out a message to those parents who have children who may have had their identity being used that the Met is actually sorry that this has happened.”

In another development, a family who believe that their son’s identity was stolen as recently as 2003 has lodged a complaint against Scotland Yard. Barbara Shaw, the mother of a baby who died after two days, is pressing the police to reveal the truth and to issue an apology. She said she was deeply upset to discover that her child’s identity was used in this way. “He is still my baby. I’ll never forget him,” Shaw said.

The Guardian has disclosed that, over three decades, undercover police officers in a covert unit known as the special demonstration squad had been hunting through birth and death records to find children who had died in infancy. Once they found a suitable candidate, they then created an alter ego to infiltrate political groups for up to 10 years. They were issued with official records such as national insurance numbers and driving licences to make their personas more credible, in case the campaigners in the groups they were spying on became suspicious and began to investigate them.

The SDS adopted the technique after it was founded in 1968. The evidence suggested that the unit stopped using it in the mid-1990s when officials records became more computerised.

However it now appears that the tactic has been used more recently by a second unit which started operating in 1999.

The National Public Order Intelligence Unit (NPOIU), which is still running, was also tasked with gathering intelligence on protesters.

Gallan told the committee that the practice “has been from the evidence I have seen confined to two units, the SDS and the NPOIU”.

Pressed by MPs on whether the squads had gone “rogue” and had gone out of control, Gallan said they were operating at the time outside of police’s guidelines for undercover operations. “From what I have seen, the practices at that time would not be following the national guidelines.” She said the units had departed from the accepted practices, but she had yet to find out why.

MPs also heard allegations that a suspected undercover police officer stole the identity of the dead child, Rod Richardson, when he posed as an anticapitalist protester for three years.

Jules Carey, the lawyer for the family, told the committee : “I am instructed by one family who have a son who was born and died in 1973 and we believe that a police officer used the name Rod Richardson which is the name of the child and was deployed as an undercover police officer in about 2000 to 2003 using that name and infiltrated various political groups.

…

Rob Evans and Paul Lewis
The Guardian, Tuesday 5 February 2013 21.15 GMT

Find this story at 5 February 2013 
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