Usually, the NSA’s whoppers are so ham-fisted everyone knows them for falsehoods. And if there’s any question, you can usually rely on the fact that when the agency’s lips move, it’s stretching the truth so far that it’s as good as a lie.
But from the start of Snowden’s revelations, one of the NSA’s tall tales has differed vastly from the others. It’s so subtle and ubiquitous, such a consummate Big Lie, that even the surveillance-state’s fiercest critics haven’t spotted it.
“[T]here’s a great deal of minimization procedures that are involved here, particularly concerning any of the acquisition of information that deals or comes from US persons. As I said, only targeting people outside the United States who are not US persons.”
“There have been queries … using US person identifiers, of communications lawfully acquired to obtain foreign intelligence targeting non-US persons reasonably believed to be located outside the United States … These queries were performed pursuant to minimization procedures approved by the FISA court and consistent with the statute and the Fourth Amendment.”
Yep, those are my emphases again — and I included “Fourth Amendment” because that’s the biggest clue of all. Here’s the text of that strangled, mangled, moribund member of the Bill of Rights:
“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.”
Anyone see notation there about “US persons” and “non-US persons?” Yet for basically its entire existence, the NSA has pretended that the Fourth prohibits the government from searching American citizens without a warrant (not that that’s stopped the spooks) while authorizing it to search the rest of the world willy-nilly.
But the Fourth’s language is so clear that even Clapper should comprehend it: without a warrant, the government may not “violate” anyone’s “person, house, papers, and effects.” Whether he’s Australian or American, from Utah or Uzbekistan, living in or visiting Mexico or Massachusetts is irrelevant.
“Wait a minute!” the NSA’s bureaucrats sneer. “‘People’ is just a synonym for ‘citizens.'”
Wrong. The Founding Fathers wrote “citizen” when that’s what they meant (remember, most of these Dead White Men were fluent in Greek and Latin, which is to say they understood and used language precisely). And though they employ “citizen” eleven times in the body of the Constitution, they mention only “people” and “persons” in the Bill of Rights. For example, when delineating the requirements for election to the House of Representatives, the Senate, and the presidency, the Constitution specifies the minimum number of years each official must have been a citizen.
But when the Constitution concludes, and its amendments begin, “citizen” goes on hiatus. As you may recall from high-school history, the Anti-Federalists insisted on adding ten amendments to the Constitution, the partial list of liberties known as the Bill of Rights. Anti-Federalists distrusted and loathed government, even the Constitution’s severely limited one: they eerily, accurately predicted today’s creeping totalitarian state and tried to protect themselves with a written guarantee that the government would never restrict their speech, disarm them, spy on them, etc.
The Anti-Federalists also realized that politicians and bureaucrats powerful enough to silence, disarm, and spy on foreigners will certainly pull the same stunts at home. That’s why the Bill of Rights consistently says “people,” as in the Ninth Amendment: “The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.” The nationality of the government’s victim doesn’t matter: politicians and bureaucrats may not silence, disarm, or spy on, etc., anyone. Then, bingo, when the Bill of Rights ends and nationality becomes pertinent again in the Eleventh Amendment, “citizen” pops up like clockwork.
Of course, at this point, discussions of the Constitution are somewhat academic: our rulers have amply demonstrated their disdain for it and us. But, unlike Sen. Dianne Feinstein or German Chancellor Angela Merkel, we should be as livid when the Feds spy on others as when they spy on us. The Constitution clearly, adamantly prohibits both.
Becky Akers is the author of two novels, Halestorm and Abducting Arnold. Both are set during the American Revolution, when Peeping Toms were horsewhipped rather than handsomely paid to spy on citizens.
At long last, there finally seems to be a recognition by members of the judicial branch that they are, in fact, there to provide checks and balances against government overreach. We’ve already covered the recent orders by Magistrate Judge John Facciola, who has twice sent the government back to fix its overly broad warrant requests seeking access to email accounts and cell phone content. (This is tempered somewhat by another Facciola decision, which declared the law enforcement agency in question didn’t need a search warrant for a supposedly “abandoned” phone.) Facciola isn’t the only judge pushing back against the government’s vague warrant requests, however.
In the past year, U.S. magistrate judges John Facciola in Washington, D.C., and David Waxse in Kansas City, Kan., have rejected or modified a number of applications for warrants to search people’s emails and other electronic communications at Internet firms such as Google Inc. and Yahoo Inc.
The rulings go against the grain of a federal judiciary that has generally approved them, according to current and former law-enforcement officials. They also come against the backdrop of a legal and political debate over the scope of government surveillance that has raged since the National Security Agency’s bulk collection of phone records was revealed last summer.
At issue is the Justice Department’s two-step process of obtaining all emails and other electronic information in the accounts of a person under investigation, and then using names and keywords to sift through it in hopes of finding evidence of wrongdoing.
The judges have ruled the government needs to refine its requests to comply with the Fourth Amendment, which protects against unreasonable searches.
This has been the government’s process for years: obtain everything and keep whatever is deemed “relevant” to the case. Both of these judges appear to realize that they are the last line of Fourth Amendment defense between the government and the public. Presumably, the Snowden leaks have played a part in this altered mindset. As both judges have pointed out in their orders, what the government has routinely sought is unbounded access to communications via unconstitutional warrants.
These two have suggested an alternate route, if the government can’t manage to operate within the constraints of the Constitution.
Both judges have suggested Internet service providers and other Web firms could do their own searches based on specific guidance from the Justice Department, and turn over only the information that appears relevant to an investigation. They have also proposed systems in which a court-appointed official or others could perform the initial search, providing a buffer between investigators and bulk data.
Of course, the government thinks these are terrible ideas.
“I don’t think ISPs or email providers have the institutional competence to conduct the searches of their customers for evidence of crimes,” said Neil MacBride, a former U.S. attorney in Virginia who described the magistrate judges’ rulings as “outliers.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s clear the government is no better than the private sector at performing targeted searches. Instead, it simply demands everything and expects to be trusted to only take a look at what is pertinent. Despite the fact that the government routinely asks (or rather, expects) the judicial branch, along with those defending the accused, to simply trust it with petabytes of someone’s personal data, it seems completely unwilling to trust a private company with fulfilling searches for relevant data on its behalf.
The days of the government simply saying “it’s complicated” and running broad warrant requests past technically-incompetent judges might finally be numbered.
Judge Waxse said he believed more people would come around to his view if they better understood recent technological advances and how service providers operate. “What Facciola and I are saying is, use what is now developed, and you can comply with the Fourth Amendment,” he said. “There are too many lawyers and judges who don’t have a clear grasp of how it all works.”
This is also part of the problem. Far too often, technically-ignorant judges have credulously accepted the government’s arguments because they don’t have the knowledge to challenge these assertions. They could seek the input of those who can parse the technological demands, but rather than do so, this crucial part of the system of checks and balances has simply allowed the government to portray its circumvention of the Fourth Amendment as unavoidable.
Following the revelations of the last several months, including documents showing the NSA misrepresented its bulk records collections for nearly three years straight, the government has been shown it cannot be trusted with unlimited access to people’s data and content. Hopefully, this pushback from the judicial branch will become the new standard.
During a recent House Judiciary Committee hearing concerning oversight, Rep. Zoe Lofgren decided to quiz Attorney General Eric Holder about the federal government’s surveillance efforts, starting off with a rather simple question. She notes that the bulk phone record collection program is considered to be legal by its supporters, based on Section 215 of the Patriot Act, which allows for the collection of “business records.” So, she wonders, is there any legal distinction between phone records and, say, internet searches or emails? In other words, does the DOJ believe that it would be perfectly legal for the US government to scoop up all your search records and emails without a warrant? Holder clearly does not want to answer the question, and first tries to answer a different question, concerning the bulk phone records program, and how the administration is supposedly committed to ending it. But eventually he’s forced to admit that there’s no legal distinction:
This is important. As you may recall, some of the attempts to deal with the phone record collection, including President Obama’s, focus only on ending the specific phone record collection program, not the underlying law (or the interpretation of that law). This isn’t to say that there are ongoing programs to do bulk warrantless collection of those other types of information, but it is worth recognizing that the government believes there would be no Constitutional issue if it decided to set up such a program.
All along, this has been the problem with Section 215. When it first was discussed, it was often called the “library” provision, as the example that people talked about was using Section 215 to collect the records of what books someone checked out of the library. However, as the phone collection program showed, it’s been turned into something much, much broader. Fixing this interpretation is going to take a lot more than just ending one program. It requires changing what is allowed by Section 215.
[T]he government continues to submit overly broad warrants and makes no effort to balance the law enforcement interests against the obvious expectation of privacy e-mail account holders have in their communications.
So far, so good, as far as upholding the Fourth Amendment goes. Then later in the month, Facciola appeared to switch sides, rejecting a warrant application for a cell phone search because, as he saw it, there was no need for the police to obtain one. This determination was based on the warrant application’s description of the phone as being “abandoned” by the suspect, when in all reality, it may have just been dropped inadvertently. This strange order put the police in the strange position of being forbidden to obtain a warrant, something that could potentially jeopardize the prosecution’s case if another judge later determines a warrant was, in fact, needed before performing the search of the phone.
Although Attachment B provides a sufficiently particularized list of the data that the government will search for and seize, the Forensic Analysis section fails to provide this Court with the same level of detail as to the methodologies to be used to conduct the search. Specifically, the government fails to articulate how it will limit the possibility that data outside the scope of the warrant will be searched. For the reasons stated below, the government’s Application for a search and seizure warrant will, therefore, be denied.
Specifically, Facciola finds this warrant approved from others he has blocked in the past, but the government still seems hesitant to explain exactly how it plans to limit its search to just pertinent data and documents.
The Court also requires a search protocol for a separate Fourth Amendment reason—to particularly describe the place to be searched. In a broad manner, describing the iPhone and its specific IMEI number certainly describes the “place to be searched” in a particular manner. But an electronic search is not that simple. An iPhone 4 has either 16 GB or 32 GB of flash memory, 10 which could allow storage of up to around two million text documents. Obviously no one—especially not a college student—would fill an iPhone with text documents, but it is inconceivable that the government would go file by file to determine whether each one is within the scope of the warrant. Instead, as the government has explained in extremely general terms, it will use some sort of “computer-assisted scans” to determine where to look because those scans will determine which parts will be exposed “to human inspection in order to determine whether it is evidence described by the warrant.”
Facciola notes that the fact that so much can be stored similarly increases the chance of abuse. All he’s asking for is for the government to be more specific in its description of how it will minimize accessing data not related to the case at hand, and all the government has provided so far is vagaries like “computer-assisted scan” and “keyword searches.”
It tells the Court nothing about what will actually happen and does not provide a means of searching so that this Court is assured that it is the type of particularized search that the Fourth Amendment demands. What the government has submitted is no better than the vague explanation in In re Search of Odys Loox that it will “image each device, search them, and keep all files.”
If Facciola sounds irritable, it’s probably because this is the third time he’s sent the government back to work on this particular warrant request. And this is the third time he’s had to make this statement, one which still seems to elude the agency making the request.
Until the government actually explains how the search will proceed, and thus how the government intends to limit its search of data outside the scope of the warrant, this warrant cannot be issued.
So, it appears Facciola’s fighting for citizens’ Fourth Amendment rights against a government that seems unwilling or unable to narrow the scope of its electronic searches. Of course, this protection seemingly only extends to citizens whose phones have been properly seized as evidence, rather than dropped/abandoned and claimed by pursuing law enforcement agents. If it’s the latter, Facciola appears to believe it’s an imposition on law enforcement to demand a warrant. Still, two out of three (in just this month alone) is a pretty good batting average for Americans’ rights, something that tends to be subverted very easily by expansive judicial readings of the Third Party Doctrine.
We’ve often discussed the TSA’s ridiculous pantomime deployed with the pretense that vague and ever-shifting rules — most written as a reaction to previous failed attacks — somehow make flying safer, even if these policies have failed to prevent attackers from boarding planes or even sniff out potential terrorists in order to apprehend them. The entire process has been ridiculed (as all knee-jerk responses should be) to no end, which is just as well considering the TSA program itself is apparently going to be endless.
I started watching the TSA video that was running on the monitors overhead, and I was struck when the narrator said: ”Once you enter the screening area, you will not be permitted to leave without TSA permission.” Really?! Actually, I am permitted to leave without TSA permission, whether they like it or not, because the Fourth Amendment’s prohibition on “unreasonable . . . seizures” gives me that permission. We have a word for this, too, in the law, when government agents don’t allow us to leave freely: ”being in custody.” And the government cannot put me in custody when they have absolutely no reason to believe that I have broken the law – the 4th Amendment prohibits that. Nor can they say “you’ve consented to being in custody when you go to the airport,” any more than they can say “you’ve consented to being in custody whenever you leave your home, so we can grab you and hold you whenever we damn please.”
Post’s followup discussion with TSA agents didn’t add much in the way of clarification. The agents told him that he wasn’t free to leave but he certainly wasn’t being detained. Not “in custody,” but not allowed to exit the screening area — just one of the many contradictions that defines the TSA’s bureaucratic morass.
Orin Kerr has responded in another post, stating that whether or not the “seizure” is “unreasonable,” caselaw backs up the TSA’s position.
The “right to leave” argument was first litigated in the early 1970s when airport security screening was new. At the time, the Fifth Circuit clearly rejected the argument. See United States v. Skipwith, 482 F.2d 1272, 1277 (5th Cir. 1973). The Fifth Circuit reasoned that an alternative approach would give hijackers a way to probe for poor security practices and then only go through security when it was lax.
The logic behind this opinion is mostly sound, but this is something that should be clarified by the agency relying on this caselaw. When someone asks whether or not they’re being detained or are in custody, they should be told that they are — even if said custody technically ends when they board their flight. This may make more people unhappy, but the TSA’s never really been a people-friendly operation.
If there was ever going to be an opportunity to move caselaw to a bit more reasonable point in relation to consent, custody and security checkpoints, that door was slammed shut by the 9/11 attacks. From the Ninth Circuit decision concurring with the Fifth Circuit’s 1970s decision:
[R]equiring that a potential passenger be allowed to revoke consent to an ongoing airport security search makes little sense in a post-9/11 world. Such a rule would afford terrorists multiple opportunities to attempt to penetrate airport security by “electing not to fly” on the cusp of detection until a vulnerable portal is found. This rule would also allow terrorists a low-cost method of detecting systematic vulnerabilities in airport security, knowledge that could be extremely valuable in planning future attacks.
In other words, extenuating circumstances, dating back to the 1970s, have turned an airplane ticket into a waiver of Fourth Amendment rights. While I appreciate the fact that restoring these rights would make it much easier for would-be attackers to probe for security holes, the same rationale makes anyone attempting (or asking) to leave the screening area instantly suspicious — and subject to additional searches and screenings.
This aligns very much with the general law enforcement view on “reasonable suspicion” in terms of checkpoints and roadblocks. Any driver who turns down a side road or performs a U-turn in order to avoid a police checkpoint is presumed to be guilty of… something and therefore should be pursued and stopped. At no point is this driver ever in “custody,” and yet, he or she isn’t free to leave the area, even when the driver is several cars back in the line. This would seem to violate the Fourth Amendment as well, but courts in many states have determined that simply avoiding a checkpoint is, in itself, enough reasonable suspicion to allow officers to pull over the vehicle.
Other courts have argued that a legal maneuver to avoid a checkpoint is not enough to indicate reasonable suspicion, but the reality here (as lawyers caution) is that drivers avoiding a DUI checkpoint or other police roadblock should expect to be pulled over and questioned. In the end, the only practical difference between these two rulings is the admissibility of evidence in court. At the point where the Fourth Amendment should matter, it doesn’t. It’s only after the fact.
Although they aren’t told explicitly, simply entering the screening area is giving consent to the TSA to search you and your belongings. Should you wish to revoke this consent, you would need to make that decision before reaching the screening area. Practically speaking, this means finding another way to reach your destination. There’s no way to assert your rights and still board a plane, even if you haven’t broken any laws and aren’t planning to.
Caselaw (and some common sense) supports the TSA’s claim that travelers are not free to leave the screening area. But the TSA should be honest about it, rather than simply expect all travelers to be perfectly fine with waiving their rights for the “privilege” of boarding a plane. And the courts should be wary of issuing more caselaw supporting the expansion of “constitution-free zones” to anywhere the TSA (or other government agencies) might be operating.
Back in December, we wrote about the effort to push for ECPA reform by noting that one of the main government agencies fighting against it was the SEC, which wanted the ability to snoop through your emails without getting a warrant. If you don’t remember, ECPA is an excessively outdated law from 1986, whose definitions make no sense in the internet era (especially one with cloud computing). The key example often given is that emails on a server that are over 180 days old are considered “abandoned” and thus no warrant is needed to access them. That may have kind of made sense in an era when people downloaded all of their email, but now that nearly all email remains on servers somewhere it makes no sense at all. There are other problems with ECPA similar in nature (opened vs. unopened emails are treated differently, for example), but it’s clear the law is outdated.
Two stories popped up last week that raise serious concerns about the way that the SEC tramples on the Constitution. The first is that in a hearing, SEC boss Mary Jo White was asked why the SEC is so resistant to ECPA reform and what’s wrong with getting a warrant, and more or less admitted that it’s standard practice for the SEC to not get a warrant, but to rely on loopholes in ECPA to get access to emails. Prior to this, many had assumed that this was just a desire of the SEC, not that they were regularly doing it. But White’s answer makes it clear that the SEC views this practice — which seems like it should be a clear 4th Amendment violations — as standard operating procedure.
While she insists that the privacy issues aren’t a huge deal, because the SEC tries to “give notice” to the subscriber whose email is being accessed, that still doesn’t explain why paper documents require a warrant, and yet the SEC doesn’t bother with the much higher standard (including judicial review) of a warrant for electronic documents.
Meanwhile, concerning a separate issue, Mark Cuban and his lawyer published an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal last week, discussing the SEC’s totally bogus case against him for insider trading, which got tossed out by a lawyer. The key issue they discussed is how the SEC had exculpatory evidence that proved Cuban had done no wrong from back in 2004 — and then did everything possible to avoid turning over that evidence, as is normally required in legal proceedings.
In a criminal trial, the federal government has long been obliged to promptly turn over to the defense any evidence that could show that the accused did not commit the offense of which he is accused. The Brady rule (announced in the 1963 Supreme Court case, Brady v. Maryland), prevents one-sided prosecutions in which the defendant is kept in the dark about information that might show that he is innocent.
The government’s job as criminal prosecutor is not to obtain convictions, but “to do justice,” according to the traditional legal maxim. It should be required to follow the Brady rule in civil trials as well. But the SEC does not, even when it accuses a citizen of fraud. Had the agency complied with this simple rule in its recent insider-trading case against one of us, Mark Cuban, it is unlikely that a lawsuit would even have been filed, let alone go to trial.
At issue were notes the SEC had concerning the details of Cuban’s conversation with the CEO of Mamma.com, the search engine Cuban had invested in (and then sold all his shares in), which showed that, contrary to the SEC’s claims in the case against him, Cuban had never made certain promises. When Cuban and his lawyer asked for these notes, the SEC resisted.
The SEC, however, resisted the disclosure of these notes for the next three years. Even up until the time Mr. Cuban took the stand, the SEC continued to fight to keep the notes from being shown to the jury by asking the judge to exclude them from evidence. Fortunately, the judge disagreed and the jury ultimately cleared Mr. Cuban of a charge of insider trading.
So, reading both of these stories, we see that the SEC feels that it is free to ignore both the 4th Amendment (against search and seizure without a warrant) and the 14th Amendment (concerning due process). Don’t we think that agencies of the federal government should be required to follow the Constitution — especially basic concepts like protecting the privacy of individuals and giving them basic due process? And, for those of you who think this is no big deal, because it’s the SEC, and the SEC just goes after big bad bankers and the like, recognize that the agency following right behind the SEC in fighting ECPA reform is the IRS. Do you feel it’s similarly okay for the IRS to search your emails and electronic records without a warrant while also believing that it need not share any of the exculpatory evidence it finds, proving your innocence, while bringing a case against you for violating the law?
Oh, and just for the hell of it, let’s take this a step further. Just a few weeks ago, the NY Times reported on an increasingly popular tactic of law enforcement to effectively use the SEC to trick people into effectively implicating themselves in criminal cases. It tells the story of a low-level guy who worked at a law firm, and was asked by the SEC to “help out” with an investigation. Only at the last minute, was it mentioned that someone from the district attorney’s office would be present — and at no time was there any indication that the guy was being investigated for criminal behavior. But thanks to the SEC smokescreen, the guy was indicted, and he’s still not sure why.
So, now it’s an SEC that ignores the Constitution, searches emails without a warrant, hides exculpatory evidence and surreptitiously uses these “investigations” to help build out criminal charges against people on a highly questionable basis. See the problem, yet?
The folks over at VanishingRights.com are fighting to reform ECPA, which would at least solve half of the problem above. Right now, the SEC and the IRS remain the main government agencies aligned against such reform. It’s time to tell those agencies that they need to obey the Constitution too.
The US Supreme Court has yet to take a case that directly challenges the NSA’s domestic surveillance programs, having turned down EPIC’s turnstile-jumping attempt to bring the bulk collection to the court’s attention back in November. More recently, it also declined to grant standing to a case pursued by the Center for Constitutional Rights challenging the legality of Bush-era surveillance programs.
Mr. Napolitano then asked if mass surveillance of cellphones and emails would be prohibited by the Fourth Amendment, which states: “The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated.” Many of the National Security Agency’s controversial surveillance programs were prominently exposed last year by Edward Snowden, a former security contracted who leaked sensitive documents revealing the U.S. government’s wide collection of digital data.
“You’re getting into the NSA stuff, right?” Mr. Scalia remarked–one of many snarky, laughter-drawing lines he issued throughout the evening. “This may come before the court. And I don’t want to get myself recused.” But Mr. Scalia nevertheless directly said he didn’t feel “conversations” were part of the “persons, houses, papers and effects” covered by the Fourth Amendment.
If this program does end up in front of the Court, it appears Scalia will be casting his lot with the government and its expansive reading of the Third Party Doctrine. He also suggested the Supreme Court wasn’t up to the task, albeit based on severely backwards logic.
“The Supreme Court doesn’t know diddly about the nature and extent of the threat,” Scalia said. Later on, he added, “It’s truly stupid that my court is going to be the last word on it.”
Why Scalia feels the “nature and extent of the threat” has any bearing on the program’s adherence to the Constitution is beyond me, and his apparent willingness to defer to the government’s justifications for domestic spying is troubling. This argument is on par with the City of New York arguing for the stop-and-frisk program because it was useful in fighting crime, an argument the presiding judge dismissed as irrelevant to the issue at hand: the constitutionality of the program itself.
No doubt the Supreme Court will get plenty of chances to hear the government discuss the nature and extent of the terrorist threat. But it needs to keep in mind that it’s ruling on the constitutionality, not whether the ends justify the means.
This peculiar statement is also troubling in light of Scalia’s earlier comments that same night, where he pointed out the dangers of originalism, and reinterpreting the Constitution in light of technological advances.
“It’s the freedom of speech. It doesn’t matter whether you’re speaking in semaphore or a cellphone or any type of modern technology. You apply the same First Amendment principals to the new technology that you applied to the old. And the same for reasonable searches and seizures.”
If Scalia’s going to argue that the times may change but the Constitution doesn’t, then he needs to be consistent. Just because a threat that was minimal before September 2001 is now viewed as all-encompassing by the government should have no bearing on whether the Supreme Court is capable of issuing an opinion on the constitutionality of the NSA’s domestic surveillance.
On the plus side, a person in the audience raised a question that may cause Scalia to reconsider his strict definition of what the Fourth Amendment covers.
When Mr. Scalia later took questions from audience members, a law student surprised the self-confident justice by pressing him on whether personal computer data–not conversations–should be protected. “Do you believe that data within a computer would be too broad of a construction of the word ‘effects’ under the Fourth Amendment?” the student inquired.
“Mmm! Mmm!” Mr. Scalia exclaimed to himself, clearly impressed with the line of argument but cautious about weighing in on a topic he expects to come up before the U.S. Supreme Court.
“I better not answer that,” he added whimsically. “That’s something that may well come up. It’s a really good question.”
So, that’s a bit more promising. And Scalia is just one of nine justices. With two judges having issued contraryopinions on the Section 215 program, it may be the Court’s responsibility to sort this out. Of course, this is just one of the NSA’s programs with constitutional implications, and it’s one that looks to be severely scaled back if not sacrificed completely to keep other, more intrusive programs free from additional scrutiny.
Orin Kerr has a post about a bizarre decision by DC Magistrate Judge John Facciola, who decided to reject a warrant application not because he thought there wasn’t probable cause, but rather because he didn’t think that the government needed a warrant at all, and could do the search it wanted without such a warrant. This is problematic on a variety of different levels, and Kerr covers them all. The story involves a police chase of a suspect with a gun. During the chase, he threw away the gun. The police found the gun, and while they were at it, the guy’s mobile phone. The warrant was to do a thorough search of the phone. Facciola said they didn’t need a warrant since the phone had been “abandoned.” Whether or not the phone was actually abandoned, the ruling is problematic (in part because Facciola has no way of knowing if the phone was actually abandoned). But, just in general, it seems that he doesn’t have the discretion to make this kind of ruling anyway:
Judge Facciola seems to be assuming that warrants only should be obtained when the Fourth Amendment would be violated without them, and that he, as a magistrate judge, has the power to say ex ante when that will be. But I think that’s pretty clearly wrong. Magistrate judges do not have the discretion to deny applications if they don’t think one would be necessary. The language in Fed. R. Crim. Pro. 41(d)(1) is mandatory: “After receiving an affidavit or other information, a magistrate judge. . . must issue the warrant if there is probable cause to search for and seize a person or property” (emphasis added).
As Kerr points out, the law is structured to encourage police to get warrants (for the obvious reason of making sure such searches are constitutional). If a magistrate judge is taking it upon himself to decide that no warrant is needed, then it seems to be going against the Supreme Court’s belief that police should be encouraged to get a warrant.
The second problem is that Facciola seems to be making a constitutional determination (i.e., there’s no 4th Amendment issue here) based on seriously incomplete facts. He only has the request for the warrant, which just seeks to present enough evidence for probable cause for the warrant. He doesn’t know anything beyond that, and he doesn’t know the other side of the story. It’s entirely possible that the search doesn’t need a warrant, but that’s not the kind of thing a magistrate judge should be determining at this stage, especially when the police themselves have asked for a warrant.
And, as Kerr notes, this actually puts the police in quite a bind about whether or not to do the search:
Further, Judge Facciola’s decision puts the government in a bind. Under his ruling, the police cannot get a warrant. But if they search the phone without a warrant, they run a serious risk that a future court will rule that Magistrate Judge Facciola’s prediction was wrong and that they should have obtained one. If so, it’s damned if you do and damned if you don’t…. The way out is for magistrates to issue warrants based on whether the government has satisfied the facial requirements of probable cause and particularity, as Rule 41 requires, not to hinge the issuance of the warrant on whether the magistrate expects such a warrant to be a legal necessity.
One of the key points that we keep hearing from defenders of the intelligence community concerning the Snowden leaks, is that all these revelations about what the NSA is spying on is providing important info to “our enemies” who can then use that information to evade the watchful eyes of US intelligence. That’s silly for a variety of reasons, with a big one pointed out by Conor Friedersdorf at The Atlantic. Based on that same logic, you could argue that the Fourth Amendment of the Constitution should be classified as top secret for revealing the same kind of information. Cue the sarcasm:
Notice how much the Fourth Amendment tells our enemies. “The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated,” it states, “and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.”
The Framers are usually considered patriots. Yet they gave traitors and criminals in their midst such powerful knowledge about concealing evidence of skullduggery! Today every terrorist with access to a pocket Constitution is privy to the same text. And thanks to the Supreme Court’s practice of publishing its opinions, al-Qaeda need only have an Internet connection to gain a very nuanced, specific understanding of how the Fourth Amendment is applied in individual cases, how it constrains law enforcement, and how to exploit those limits.
He makes the basic point that you can more or less apply this kind of test to all of the claims by NSA defenders. He points to regular Techdirt favorite, Stewart Baker, who is still apoplectic about the idea that we’re having a public debate about any of this, because:
“You can’t debate our intelligence capabilities and how to control them in the public without disclosing all of the things that you’re discussing to the very people you’re trying to gather intelligence about,” he said. “Your targets are listening to the debates.”
But, uh, yeah, that’s kind of the point of living in a free and open society. Nearly a decade ago, in a totally different arena, Professor Ed Felten talked about how you could debunk calls for stronger intellectual property protections via the Pizzaright Principle, whereby if the identical argument being made for why we need stronger copyright or patent protections could similarly be made for why someone deserves an exclusive right to sell pizza, then the argument is bogus.
It seems that we could do a similar sort of thing for any discussion that tries to cut off public debate and discussion about what the intelligence community is doing as well. If the same argument could equally apply to why we should not have a public 4th Amendment, it should be default evidence that the argument being pushed is completely bogus. We can call it the “Classified 4th Amendment Test.”
Earlier today, we wrote about Senator Dianne Feinstein’s justified anger over the CIA “spying” on the Senate Intelligence Committee staffers as they went about putting together a massive (and apparently incredibly damning) report condemning the CIA’s torture program. Having now watched the whole video of her speech, as well as read the transcript, there’s a lot more here to discuss. You can watch the speech yourself if you’d like, or read the full transcript, which we’ve embedded below:
Apparently, some of the concerns actually stem from an earlier incident, from back in 2010, during which the CIA deleted access to a bunch of documents that it had previously given to the committee staffers. This came after an initial fight over whether or not the CIA would interfere with the staffers’ efforts. The Intelligence Committee eventually agreed with the CIA’s request that the research work be carried out on the CIA’s premises, but only after the CIA promised not to interfere and to leave the staffers alone. The staffers requested lots of documents, and the CIA did a full pure data dump on them, just handing over piles and piles of documents with no context at all. Basically, it appears the CIA sought to bury the staffers in bullshit, hoping to hide many of the important bits. In response, the staffers asked the CIA to provide an electronic search engine, in order to go through the electronic documents. Also, to keep things organized, the staffers would regularly make local copies and/or print out key documents so they could more easily organize them and keep track of them. Based on this, they noticed that some documents that had initially been available “went missing” in 2010:
In May of 2010, the committee staff noticed that [certain] documents that had been provided for the committee’s review were no longer accessible. Staff approached the CIA personnel at the offsite location, who initially denied that documents had been removed. CIA personnel then blamed information technology personnel, who were almost all contractors, for removing the documents themselves without direction or authority. And then the CIA stated that the removal of the documents was ordered by the White House. When the committee approached the White House, the White House denied giving the CIA any such order.
After a series of meetings, I learned that on two occasions, CIA personnel electronically removed committee access to CIA documents after providing them to the committee. This included roughly 870 documents or pages of documents that were removed in February 2010, and secondly roughly another 50 were removed in mid-May 2010.
This was done without the knowledge or approval of committee members or staff, and in violation of our written agreements. Further, this type of behavior would not have been possible had the CIA allowed the committee to conduct the review of documents here in the Senate. In short, this was the exact sort of CIA interference in our investigation that we sought to avoid at the outset.
Apparently, this snafu was settled quietly between the intelligence committee and the CIA, with the CIA promising not to do it again.
Now, as we’ve been pointing out, and which was revealed by McClatchy and the NY Times last week, this latest fight is focused mostly on a draft of an internal review by the CIA of the torture program, conducted for then director Leon Panetta. Feinstein reveals some more key details about this document. First, it appears that Panetta more or less ordered the CIA to conduct what appears to be a “shadow review” of the very same documents that were being handed over to the Senate staffers. The report, as noted, appears to come to the same basic conclusions about the CIA’s torture program (i.e., that it went to insane lengths and produced absolutely nothing in the way of useful intelligence). This internal review also contradicted the CIA’s “official response” to the Intelligence Committee’s own report.
Here’s where it gets a bit trickier. When current CIA director John Brennan was asked for the full internal report, rather than the draft that the staffers had, there appears to have been a freakout at the CIA, because no one had intended for the intelligence committee to see the report, either as a draft or final report. The CIA appears to have believed that Senate staffers got access to the report illegally (hence the CIA’s request that the staffers be investigated for illegal activity). Feinstein denies all of this and notes that the draft report was among the many documents provided in the data dump — in what now looks like an accident by the CIA folks (and some contractors) in charge of compiling the data dump for the intelligence committee. The staffers “found” this document by using that search tool, which they’d asked the CIA to provide.
Feinstein goes on to reject the claims made by the CIA and CIA supporters that (1) the staffers should have known not to read the documents since they were marked “deliberative” or “privileged” and (2) that they somehow “mishandled” those classified documents by printing them out and bringing them to the Senate. As she notes, both of those claims make little sense. On the classification:
As with many other documents provided to the committee at the CIA facility, some of the Internal Panetta Review documents—some—contained markings indicating that they were “deliberative” and/or “privileged.” This was not especially noteworthy to staff. In fact, CIA has provided thousands of internal documents, to include CIA legal guidance and talking points prepared for the CIA director, some of which were marked as being deliberative or privileged.
Moreover, the CIA has officially provided such documents to the committee here in the Senate. In fact, the CIA’s official June 27, 2013, response to the committee study, which Director Brennan delivered to me personally, is labeled “Deliberative Process Privileged Document.”
We have discussed this with the Senate Legal Counsel who has confirmed that Congress does not recognize these claims of privilege when it comes to documents provided to Congress for our oversight duties.
That takes care of that. On the question of mishandling the documents, the argument is not quite as strong, but still quite reasonable. Yes, it does appear that staffers did not follow the exact process for removing the documents — in that they were supposed to first review it with CIA staffers, but the reasoning here is not so crazy. The review process was supposedly just so that the CIA could make sure that names of key people or details of operations weren’t revealed. The staffers made sure that all such info had been redacted before moving the document — and, of course, they recognized that this document was a bit of a smoking gun for the CIA in that it appeared to confirm that Director Brennan had been lying to the committee. Taking it to the CIA to review would be an odd move — especially for staffers tasked with oversight of the CIA itself. Even more important, the staffers noticed that, like back in 2010, that draft review document suddenly “disappeared” from their computer system, despite the previous promises that the CIA wouldn’t do that any more (also, she points out that the CIA had previously destroyed early evidence about their torture program). So they made the entirely reasonable decision to make a copy and store it in the Senate:
When the Internal Panetta Review documents disappeared from the committee’s computer system, this suggested once again that the CIA had removed documents already provided to the committee, in violation of CIA agreements and White House assurances that the CIA would cease such activities.
As I have detailed, the CIA has previously withheld and destroyed information about its Detention and Interrogation Program, including its decision in 2005 to destroy interrogation videotapes over the objections of the Bush White House and the Director of National Intelligence. Based on the information described above, there was a need to preserve and protect the Internal Panetta Review in the committee’s own secure spaces.
Now, the Relocation of the Internal Panetta Review was lawful and handled in a manner consistent with its classification. No law prevents the relocation of a document in the committee’s possession from a CIA facility to secure committee offices on Capitol Hill. As I mentioned before, the document was handled and transported in a manner consistent with its classification, redacted appropriately, and it remains secured—with restricted access—in committee spaces.
Now that brings us to the latest “fight.” In late 2013, after the intelligence committee had seen that draft report, it had requested the final report from the CIA. That set off alarm bells in the CIA when they realized that the committee knew such a report existed, leading to a freakout and further “searching” the staffers’ supposedly private computers and networks:
Shortly thereafter, on January 15, 2014, CIA Director Brennan requested an emergency meeting to inform me and Vice Chairman Chambliss that without prior notification or approval, CIA personnel had conducted a “search”—that was John Brennan’s word—of the committee computers at the offsite facility. This search involved not only a search of documents provided to the committee by the CIA, but also a search of the ”stand alone” and “walled-off” committee network drive containing the committee’s own internal work product and communications.
According to Brennan, the computer search was conducted in response to indications that some members of the committee staff might already have had access to the Internal Panetta Review. The CIA did not ask the committee or its staff if the committee had access to the Internal Review, or how we obtained it.
Instead, the CIA just went and searched the committee’s computers. The CIA has still not asked the committee any questions about how the committee acquired the Panetta Review. In place of asking any questions, the CIA’s unauthorized search of the committee computers was followed by an allegation—which we have now seen repeated anonymously in the press—that the committee staff had somehow obtained the document through unauthorized or criminal means, perhaps to include hacking into the CIA’s computer network.
As I have described, this is not true. The document was made available to the staff at the offsite facility, and it was located using a CIA-provided search tool running a query of the information provided to the committee pursuant to its investigation.
Of course, as Julian Sanchez points out, from this description, it certainly appears that the CIA was collecting “just metadata,” and, as you may recall, Feinstein has been at the forefront of arguing that no one should care about the NSA’s activities, because it’s just metadata. Kinda funny how perspective shifts when it’s your metadata being discussed. Suddenly, it becomes a constitutional issue:
Based on what Director Brennan has informed us, I have grave concerns that the CIA’s search may well have violated the separation of powers principles embodied in the United States Constitution, including the Speech and Debate clause. It may have undermined the constitutional framework essential to effective congressional oversight of intelligence activities or any other government function.
[….]
Besides the constitutional implications, the CIA’s search may also have violated the Fourth Amendment, the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, as well as Executive Order 12333, which prohibits the CIA from conducting domestic searches or surveillance.
And yet that doesn’t apply when the NSA spies on all Americans? Yes, Feinstein is absolutely right to be angry about this. It is an astounding breach of protocol, and given that it’s the Senate Intelligence Committee’s job to oversee the CIA, it appears to be quite a brazen move by the CIA to effectively undermine the Senate’s oversight. It’s just too bad she doesn’t see how the very same things she’s angry about concerning her own staff apply equally to everyone else.
There’s one other issue in the speech that should be highlighted as well. She notes both of the referrals (that we’ve previously discussed) to the DOJ: the request to investigate the CIA’s activities, and the CIA’s tit-for-tat response asking for an investigation into the staffers’ access and removal of the draft Panetta review. Feinstein also points out that the person at the CIA who filed the crimes report against her staffers at the DOJ was heavily involved in the torture program the report condemns, and certainly suggests that the move is much more about intimidating Senate overseers:
Weeks later, I was also told that after the inspector general referred the CIA’s activities to the Department of Justice, the acting general counsel of the CIA filed a crimes report with the Department of Justice concerning the committee staff’s actions. I have not been provided the specifics of these allegations or been told whether the department has initiated a criminal investigation based on the allegations of the CIA’s acting general counsel.
As I mentioned before, our staff involved in this matter have the appropriate clearances, handled this sensitive material according to established procedures and practice to protect classified information, and were provided access to the Panetta Review by the CIA itself. As a result, there is no legitimate reason to allege to the Justice Department that Senate staff may have committed a crime. I view the acting general counsel’s referral as a potential effort to intimidate this staff—and I am not taking it lightly.
I should note that for most, if not all, of the CIA’s Detention and Interrogation Program, the now acting general counsel was a lawyer in the CIA’s Counterterrorism Center—the unit within which the CIA managed and carried out this program. From mid-2004 until the official termination of the detention and interrogation program in January 2009, he was the unit’s chief lawyer. He is mentioned by name more than 1,600 times in our study.
And now this individual is sending a crimes report to the Department of Justice on the actions of congressional staff—the same congressional staff who researched and drafted a report that details how CIA officers—including the acting general counsel himself—provided inaccurate information to the Department of Justice about the program.
Once again, it’s worth noting that these are the very same folks that, just weeks ago, Feinstein was insisting would never abuse their positions because they’re professionals. She said that on January 19th. That was just four days after CIA Director Brennan had told her about how the CIA had conducted the almost certainly illegal search on her own staffers.
And, of course, this is the point that many of us have been making all along to Feinstein and other kneejerk defenders of the intelligence community. No matter how “professional” they are, they’re still human. And given situations where their own jobs may be threatened, they’re going to do what they do, and that often leads to serious abuses, like the ones that now have Feinstein so angry. That’s why we’re so concerned by her lack of real oversight of the intelligence community for years, as well as the rather permissive attitude that both Congress and the courts have taken for years to the intelligence community, by insisting that they only do what they do for the purposes of “national security.” I’m curious what kind of “national security” reason the CIA has for spying on the very staffers who were investigating the CIA’s torture program?
