When Google tripped: Forgetting the right to be forgotten

right-to-be-forgotten-screengrab

On May 13, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) held in Google Spain v AEPD and Mario Costeja González that there was a “right to be forgotten” in the context of data processing on internet search engines. The case had been brought by a Spanish man, Mario Gonzáles, after his failure to remove an auction notice of his repossessed home from 1998, available on La Vanguardia, a widely-read newspaper website in Catalonia.

The CJEU considered the application of various sections of Article 14 of EU Directive 95/46/EC of the European Parliament and of the Council of October 24, 1995 covering the processing of personal data and the free movement of such data.

A very specific philosophy underlines the directive. For one, it is the belief that data systems are human productions, created by humans for humans.  In the preamble to Article 1 of Directive 95/46, “data processing systems are designed to serve man; … they must, whatever the nationality or residence of natural persons, respect their fundamental rights and freedoms notably the right to privacy, and contribute to … the well-being of individuals.”

Google Spain and Google Inc.’s argument was that such search engines “cannot be regarded as processing the data which appear on third parties’ web pages displayed in the list of search results”.  The information is processed without “effecting the selection between personal data and other information.”  Gonzáles, and several governments, disagreed, arguing that the search engine was the “controller” regarding data processing. The Court accepted the argument.

Attempts to distinguish the entities (Google Inc. and Google Spain) also failed. Google Inc. might well have operated in a third state, but Google Spain operated in a Member State.  To exonerate the former would render Directive 95/46 toothless.

The other side of the coin, and one Google is wanting to stress, is that such a ruling is a gift to the forces of oppression.  A statement from a Google spokesman noted how, “The court’s ruling requires Google to make difficult judgments about an individual’s right to be forgotten and the public’s right to know.”

Google’s Larry Page seemingly confuses the necessity of privacy with the transparency (or opacity) of power.  “It will be used by other governments that aren’t as forward and progressive as Europe to do bad things.  Other people are going to pile on, probably… for reasons most Europeans would find negative.”  Such a view ignores that individuals, not governments, have the right to be forgotten.  His pertinent point lies in how that right might well be interpreted, be it by companies or supervisory authorities. That remains the vast fly in the ointment.

Despite his evident frustrations, Page admitted that Google had misread the EU smoke signals, having been less involved in matters of privacy, and more committed to a near dogmatic stance on total, uninhibited transparency. “That’s one of the things we’ve taken from this, that we’re starting the process of really going an talking to people.”

A sense of proportion is needed here.  The impetus on the part of powerful agencies or entities to make data available is greater in the name of transparency than private individuals who prefer to leave few traces to inquisitive searchers.  Much of this lies in the entrusting of power – those who hold it should be visible; those who have none are entitled to be invisible.  This invariably comes with its implications for the information-hungry generation that Google has tapped into.

The critics, including those charged with advising Google on how best to implement the EU Court ruling, have worries about the routes of accessibility.  Information ethics theorist Luciano Floridi, one such specially charged advisor, argues that the decision spells the end of freely available information.  The decision “raised the bar so high that the old rules of Internet no longer apply.”

For Floridi, the EU Court ruling might actually allow companies to determine the nature of what is accessible.  “People would be screaming if a powerful company suddenly decided what information could be seen by what people, when and where.” Private companies, in other words, had to be the judges of the public interest, an unduly broad vesting of power.  The result, for Floridi, will be a proliferation of  “reputation management companies” engaged in targeting compromising information.

Specialist on data law, Christopher Kuner, suggests that the Court has shown a lack of concern for the territorial application, and implications, of the judgment.  It “fails to take into account the global nature of the internet.”  Wikipedia’s founder, Jimmy Wales, also on Google’s advisory board, has fears that Wikipedia articles are set for the censor’s modifying chop.  “When will a European court demand that Wikipedia censor an article with truthful information because an individual doesn’t like it?”

The Court was by no means oblivious to these concerns.  A “fair balance should be sought in particular between that interest [in having access to information] and the data subject’s fundamental rights under Articles 7 [covering no punishment without law] and 8 [covering privacy] of the Charter.”  Whether there could be a justifiable infringement of the data subject’s right to private information would depend on the public interest in accessing that information, and “the role played by the data subject in private life.”

To that end, Google’s service of removal is only available to European citizens.  Its completeness remains to be tested.  Applicants are entitled to seek removal for such grounds as material that is “inadequate, irrelevant or no longer relevant, or excessive in relation to the purposes for which they were processed.”

An explanation must accompany the application, including digital copies of photo identification, indicating that ever delicate dance between free access and anonymity.  For Google, as if it were an unusual illness, one has to justify the assertion of anonymity and invisibility on the world’s most powerful search engine.

Others have showed far more enthusiasm. Google’s implemented program received 12,000 submissions in its first day, with about 1,500 coming from the UK alone.  Floridi may well be right – the age of open access is over. The question on who limits that access to information in the context of a search, and what it produces, continues to loom large.  The right to know jousts with the entitlement to be invisible.

This article was published on June 2, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org

Both Google and the European Union are funders of Index on Censorship

 

Children of the internet: Free speech in the digital age

(Image: Shutterstock)

(Image: Shutterstock)

Unlike any previous time in the history of the world, there is a generation growing up today with unprecedented knowledge and power at their immediate and constant disposal. Their voices cannot be silenced, they can communicate with each other instantaneously from anywhere in the world. They are children of the internet, and they are politically and socially empowered in ways that are not yet clearly understood. Increasingly defining their identities online as much as offline, net-powered Millenials are collectively reshaping social norms — defining the legacy their generation will leave society. The internet is a product of, and a critical factor in, this legacy.

For example, the internet is a key medium for personal expression. Deliberately open-access and open-source architectures that transcend national boundaries means that the online world is a place where its users become increasingly accustomed to possessing both a platform and a voice regardless of their status in society. Even where it is dangerous to criticise politicians, or to practice a faith, or to be homosexual, the internet provides shelter in anonymity and the chance to meet like-minded people. In this way, the children of the internet have access to support, advice and assistance, but also to allies. Even the most isolated human can now take action with the power of a collaborative collective rather than as a lone individual, and they do so with an attitude that has become acclimatised to unfettered freedom of speech.

For the internet generation, this translates to their political actions online and often erupts into their offline behaviour, too. Online petitions gain infinitely more traction than their pen-and-paper twins, and the more anarchic side of the internet takes no prisoners in parodying public figures, as evinced recently with the numerous revisions of the recent “beer and bingo” tax cut advertisements produced by the ruling coalition. More controversially, Wikileaks infamously released hundreds of thousands of classified government communiqués, and “hacktivist” groups such as Anonymous make their presence felt with powerful retaliations against firms and governments that they perceive to have suppressed internet freedom. Even high-security sites such as the US Copyright Office and Paypal have been targeted — civil disobedience that is symptomatic of the new, sharing internet generation that is paradoxically mindful of personal privacy and disparaging of public opacity.

For the strongest demonstration of the way this attitude and power translates, look no further than the violent reaction of a primarily young body of protesters during the Arab Spring and in Ukraine. The internet was the conduit through which popular campaigns against ruling regimes transformed into widespread civil disobedience and a full-blown political movement. Empowered with access to forms of political commentary comparatively free of governmental intervention and the ability of every protester to act as a professional journalist by virtue of a camera phone and a Twitter account, the children of the internet communicated, mobilised and acted to cast away governments from Tunisia to Yemen; Egypt twice over. They made their voices heard: not at the ballot box as previous generations might have, but in the streets of Cairo and Sana’a and the virtual spaces of Facebook and Blackberry Messenger. Small wonder then, that governments targeted and blocked social networking sites to quell dissent. In many countries the internet was shut down altogether.

Yet, the internet persevered — as John Gilmore, co-founder of the Electronic Frontier Foundation noted: “The internet treats censorship as a malfunction and routes around it”. Despite the long running tussle between the users of the internet and governments who seek to regulate it, it remains untameable. In each instance, almost immediately after internet usage has been restricted, information has circulated about circumventing government regulations — even total shutdowns have been dodged through external satellite connections.

Powered overwhelmingly by the young, the internet is changing the way our societies are structured. Its effects upon our civilisation are poorly understood, particularly among young people who have never known a world without the internet. Ultimately, however, it has done more for individual freedom than any other development in the last half-century. It grants any person a voice with mere access to a keyboard and a broadband connection. It holds governments to account in new and innovative ways, and most crucially, it is an irreversible development. An entire generation defines itself, subconsciously, through the internet; previous such advancements came only through the invention of the printing press, radio and television. One thing is for certain — as broadband usage approaches saturation in many developed countries, we are all children of the internet now.

This article was originally posted on 2 June, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org

SUPPORT INDEX'S WORK