This blog post was authored by Technology for Liberty Program intern Alex Leblang.

David Mack was unprepared for a political confrontation with U.S. border agents as he reentered the United States through New York’s JFK airport. As an Australian with a U.S. work visa, he expected the usual questions from a U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) agent, such as “What was the nature of your trip?” or “Do you have anything to declare?” Instead, the agent grilled Mack, a BuzzFeed breaking news reporter, about the Mueller investigation into Donald Trump and BuzzFeed’s coverage of it. The phrase “fake news” was uttered. Mack described needing to walk an uncomfortable tightrope—gently refuting the agent’s false claims, while remembering that the agent had the ability to deny Mack entry into the country where he lives and works.

How did the border agent know David Mack works for Buzzfeed? Mack suspects that the agent saw his employer listed on his visa. But it’s likely that the agent and agents like him nationwide would have been able to access the same information even on U.S. citizens. Over the past twenty or so years, the federal government’s border police have vastly expanded their surveillance reach, and now keep detailed records about all travelers, including information not just about where we work, but also about our personal and business associations, what we read, our political preferences and religious interests, and more.

Under the Trump administration, the federal government has been particularly eager to expand its surveillance and database systems to track noncitizens. But while the Trump administration has expressed its desire to increase the government’s technical capabilities to track and monitor people both within the U.S. and worldwide, the government has been compiling databases on Americans and foreign nationals for years, under both Democrat and Republican administrations, under the auspices of “counter terrorism” and “border security.”

The government tends to be tight lipped about details related to these efforts, but thanks to federal privacy law, it is required to release at least basic information about its surveillance programs. On Valentine’s Day, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) published information about its strategy for what the government calls “Continuous Immigration Vetting” (CIV). This is DHS’s latest attempt to fulfill President Trump’s desire for “extreme vetting.” U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) cites Executive Order (EO) 13780, titled Protecting the Nation from Foreign Terrorist Entry into the United States, as reaffirming the need to create this program. The purpose of Continuous Immigration Vetting is increase the amount of monitoring DHS conducts on noncitizens in the United States and to continue its surveillance until it no longer can do so legally, i.e. they become a naturalized citizen. It its current iteration, the CIV program accomplishes this by increasing the technical links between USCIS, U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP), and U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

Many of the new data products rolled out by the Department of Homeland Security, as well as other federal agencies, focus on combining multiple databases or allowing automated products to search many databases at once. At a technical level, the U.S. Government has implemented Continuous Immigration Vetting as a connection between two incredibly expansive government data platforms, ATLAS and ATS.

ATLAS searches through the Fraud Detection and National Security Data System, which contains sensitive personally identifying information from a large number of sources, such as the USCIS’s Alien Files and the Immigration and Biometric Background Check System.  If the ATLAS system determines that it has found “derogatory” information on a person it will issue a notification to USCIS, which “may ultimately refer [the case] to ICE.” 

ATS is the CBP’s Automated Targeting System, “a decision support tool that compares traveler, cargo, and conveyance information against law enforcement, intelligence, and other enforcement data using risk-based scenarios and assessments.” As well as storing some of its own data, ATS also ingests data from a mind-numbingly long list of government databases. Many of these contain information about U.S. citizens, such as Department of Motor Vehicle registration data and other unspecified “commercial data aggregators.” The database also contains information about what travelers say, do, and possess while traveling. ATS assigns cargo a threat assessment score that it uses to identify items that may require further investigation, though CBP insists that it does not use ATS to assign a score to people.

What’s the problem with mass data surveillance? Breaches, inaccuracies, misuse, and abuse

Compiling all of these sensitive data about citizens, visitors, and green card holders is not just dangerous because it invites racial and religious profiling. By vastly expanding the data systems available to DHS officers, the government has made it more likely that the data will be leaked or abused.

These concerns are not merely hypothetical; government data breaches are unfortunately quite frequent. The most infamous government data breach occurred at the Office of Personnel Management (OPM), which by final count exposed the data of 21.5 million government employees, including biometric data, most likely to a foreign adversary. As gargantuan and serious as the OPM breach was, the website DigitalGuardian.com lists it as only the fourth largest breach impacting state and federal government in the U.S. The mere existence of such databases constitutes a privacy liability to anyone unfortunate enough to have their information contained within it, meaning the government ought to have very good reason to take this risk. Governments since George W. Bush’s have defended mass surveillance and data collection by claiming that it can prevent terrorism. The evidence says otherwise.

Another problem with these databases is that they often contain inaccurate information. These large systems gather information from many agencies and individuals, all with varying levels of training protocols and internal oversight mechanisms. As a result, it’s very difficult for the government to be sure their information reflects reality. In some cases, this is because government agents are human, and make mistakes. In others, it’s because of intentional malice.

In 2015, for example, a CBP officer was charged with filing a false report against a man who had started criminal proceedings against the officer’s brother-in-law for the rape of the man’s 11-year-old son. As a result of this false and malicious report, the man was subsequently detained at gunpoint multiple times when crossing the border into the U.S. In this case, the agent was caught and properly charged, but it’s likely that many false reports are never discovered. With so many government databases connected, and a system of approvals and denials based on automated rules and systems, it’s easy to imagine how a bad actor could input information that could negatively impact a person in a domain unrelated to the false report. Junk in, junk out.

Even if these databases were properly protected and the data were accurate, there would remain a high likelihood that the data would be misused and abused in racially and religiously discriminatory ways.

In the summer of 2017, ICE attempted to get private industry to create a program that would use artificial intelligence and machine learning to evaluate “an [immigration] applicant’s probability of becoming a positively contributing member of society.” Machine learning experts pointed out that the technology that DHS was asking for did not exist, and that it wouldn’t be possible to code a system to identify whether someone met a subjective threshold such as “positively contributing member of society.” After sustained pressure from advocacy groups and lawmakers, ICE eventually backed down from that portion of the extreme vetting process. But it’s possible that the agency will try to use similar techniques on the data that they gain access to with the CIV program.

Even without an explicit artificial intelligence portion, these automated decision systems can harm people and violate rights. ATLAS uses a “rules based” automated system to flag persons as threats to national security, but it is unclear what these rules are. What we do know about DHS’ intent does not inspire confidence. When addressing racial profiling, the CIV report cites DHS policy and includes the following paragraph:

Except as noted below, it is DHS policy, although not required by the Constitution, that tools, policies, directives, and rules in law enforcement and security settings that consider, as an investigative or screening criterion, an individual’s simple connection to a particular country, by birth or citizenship, should be reserved for situations in which such consideration is based on an assessment of intelligence and risk, and in which alternatives do not meet security needs, and such consideration should remain in place only as long as necessary. These self-imposed limits, however, do not apply to antiterrorism, immigration, or customs activities in which nationality is expressly relevant to the administration or enforcement of a statute, regulation, or executive order, or in individualized discretionary use of nationality as a screening, investigation, or enforcement factor.

We know the current administration considers nationality to be a relevant factor in immigration determinations, and this policy specifically cites executive orders as avenues of exemption that would allow DHS to consider nationality in the creation of its rules. Unfortunately, because we are unable to see the rules themselves, we don’t know for certain if racial profiling is built in to these risk assessments.

One thing is crystal clear, however: DHS’ goal is to use computer systems, big data, and automation to monitor U.S. visa applicants and permanent residents to the greatest extent that they feel they can legally defend. At an industry day courting private sector venders for its extreme vetting initiative, ICE was asked about the similarity of their request to a system that the FBI had tried to build that had been shut down by the ACLU. The ICE spokesperson responded that, unlike that FBI system, the system that they were seeking would be dealing with foreign nationals, and that they “will continue to do it until someone says that we can’t.

Date

Thursday, February 28, 2019 - 4:00pm

Featured image

Customs and Border Patrol officer checks someone's passport at an airport

Show featured image

Hide banner image

Related issues

Privacy and Surveillance

Show related content

Tweet Text

[node:title]

Type

Show PDF in viewer on page

Style

Standard with sidebar

Blog by Rahsaan Hall (pictured), director of the Racial Justice Program at the ACLU of Massachusetts

For the first time ever, Boston’s top three law enforcement officials are Black: Boston Police Commissioner William Gross, Suffolk County District Attorney Rachael Rollins, and Suffolk County Sheriff Steve Tompkins. Of course, Ralph Martin was the first Black DA in Suffolk County—and in all of Massachusetts; Andrea Cabral was the first woman and Black person to be a sheriff in Suffolk County and the Commonwealth; and the current commissioner was previously Superintendent in Chief. But these officials never served at the same time.

Our current law enforcement leadership is especially significant now because Black people are overrepresented in the criminal legal system. Their leadership is important because they can give young people of color hope and inspire them to become the decision makers. Their mere presence in these positions defies the notion that Black people are incapable of being in charge. They bring their perspective, having navigated the world as Black people. Their life experiences dealing with racism and bias help them see the world differently.

People of color—and Black people in particular—live in communities with significantly higher numbers of incarcerated and recently-released people. They also live in communities with high rates of unsolved homicides, yet their communities are over-policed. They are disproportionately held on bail, and make up a disproportionate amount of Suffolk County’s incarcerated population. It is important that these Black leaders bring their perspective as Black people to these law enforcement offices because the people closest to the pain should be the ones closest to the power.

But as Zora Neal Hurston once said, “All my skinfolk ain’t kinfolk.” How has navigating the world as Black people informed their perspective on the public safety conversation? In other words, has their relative proximity to the family of suffering and oppressed peoples made them kin to the collective hopes for restoration, transformation, and healing? They cannot solve Boston’s race problems or eradicate racism from the criminal legal system by virtue of the color of their skin alone.

These officials work in institutions and in a system that has, for generations, thrived off of the surveillance, harassment, persecution, caging, and killing of Black people—all while never facing the threat of a budget cut. Getting this system to make an about-face is like getting the Amistad to make a hairpin turn. Commissioner Gross, District Attorney Rollins, and Sheriff Tompkins will have to continue their current change-making initiatives, like declining to prosecute low-level offenses and creating specialized units that focus on reducing recidivism. But they also need to go a step further by working with more community partners to support alternatives to arrest, prosecution, and incarceration, and to ultimately end our reliance on the criminal legal system to address behaviors associated with poverty, trauma, substance use disorder, and mental health issues.

History will judge these leaders by how their framing of the issues of crime, violence, and public safety empowers communities, and disabuses others of the racist tropes that have—for far too long—informed law enforcement’s approach to addressing harm in communities. History will judge them by the ways they hold their staff accountable for the way they treat members of the community.

So in honor of Horatio Homer, Eunice Carter, and Walter Moses Burton, let the significance of Commissioner Gross, District Attorney Rollins, and Sheriff Tompkins not be that they were first—but that they were family.

Date

Wednesday, February 27, 2019 - 3:30pm

Featured image

Rahsaan Hall

Show featured image

Hide banner image

Related issues

Racial Justice

Show related content

Tweet Text

[node:title]

Type

Menu parent dynamic listing

25

Show PDF in viewer on page

Style

Standard with sidebar

Drug convictions have lasting, collateral consequences: Each conviction on a person’s record can make it more difficult to get a job, an apartment, a student loan—anything they could want or need to rebuild their life.

More than 47,000 drug charges have been dismissed due to Massachusetts’ two drug lab scandals, but thousands of people still don’t know that they were impacted by the state’s misconduct. Together with the Committee for Public Counsel Services (CPCS), the ACLU of Massachusetts launched an unprecedented notice campaign to spread the word that wrongfully convicted people have a path to justice—and an opportunity to more easily rebuild their lives.

VIEW A TIMELINE OF THE STATE DRUG LAB SCANDALS

In addition to printed postcards, fliers, and notice letters, the ACLU and CPCS are on the airwaves, in newspapers, and online, informing people that they can challenge their convictions in court and encouraging them to call the public defender drug lab hotline. People convicted of a Massachusetts drug crime in a case that started between 2003 and 2013 can find out if their charges were dismissed by calling 1-888-999-2881.

This new model for addressing wrongful convictions was made possible through civil rights litigation and a series of court rulings. Initially, the burden to address wrongful convictions was on the wrongfully convicted people—not the state. The ACLU of Massachusetts and CPCS went to court to shift that burden. And, after years of litigation, the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court did just that. Most recently, an October 2018 decision required the state Attorney General’s Office to pay to notify every person who was wrongfully convicted.

Massachusetts’ drug lab scandals are the inevitable result of a system that is dedicated to punishment, instead of healing. If there’s one takeaway from this concerted effort to right the wrongs of the criminal legal system, let it be that those convictions never should have been pursued in the first place.

Learn more about the case

Date

Friday, February 22, 2019 - 10:15am

Featured image

Yellow background and faded black gavel under text "Thousands of drug charges dismissed."

Show featured image

Hide banner image

Show related content

Tweet Text

[node:title]

Type

Menu parent dynamic listing

25

Show PDF in viewer on page

Style

Standard with sidebar

Pages

Subscribe to ACLU Massachusetts RSS