Human development began with the Stone Age, followed by the Bronze Age. We have been through Dark Ages and the Age of Reason. The Industrial Age signalled the modern era and led us to our present state as citizens of the Information Age. When we started, the most powerful tool was a roughly chipped piece of rock. Now that symbol of power is represented by 0 and 1, binary digits that are the basic building blocks of computer-stored data.
The gathering, storage and dissemination of information represents the most potent form of power at the disposal of modern governments, companies and even individuals. This potency is well-recognised and has led, not unnaturally, to concerns about the use and misuse of stored data. However, if we think we have controlled the storage of personal information, we are deluding ourselves. The personal details about Lisa Barber that Weekend Herald journalists reveal today, solely to prove the point, suggest that our lives are somewhat open books whether we like it or not.
The issue lies not in the gathering of information but in its availability. Governments collect information for legitimate purposes and, because of that legitimacy, it is freely sought and generally freely given. That is how New Zealanders' names routinely appear on about 20 Government databases and could be included on up to 43 public registers. Parliament gave permission for data matching between departments for certain purposes and, although there remains a sense of unease, citizens were reassured by the existence of the Office of the Privacy Commissioner to oversee the exercising of that right. The Privacy Commissioner, Bruce Slane, appears to be satisfied that he has a tight rein on the process.
The problem lies not in sharing official information between departments but in sharing it with others. Mr Slane has been vocal in his concern about the use to which public registers might be put. News media, including this newspaper, have opposed Mr Slane's moves to ban the bulk distribution of registers because his primary targets are certain commercial activities but a catch-all approach could restrict reasonable access. In the meantime, he has to admit that certain Government agencies comply with the Privacy Act in their open marketing of information to companies, agencies, professional practices and the public.
Whether they should do so is an ethical argument that must weigh the right to individual privacy, the public's right to know and the use to which information might be put. If the state agency needed a test to assist its judgment it could be this: will the release of this information harm the individual who provided it? "Harm," admittedly, is a relative term that could mean as little as mild irritation or as much as ruin. Unless it was a matter of clear public interest, no one would condone an agency releasing data that damaged reputation or financial status. Equally invalid is the view that all information should be kept secret unless the original provider decrees. Our social structure, in which individuals are part of a community, denies the right to total anonymity. The state's use of information must be a matter of balance.
In any event, the controlled release of information may be of less public concern than the illicit sale of data on an information blackmarket and the security of personal details held in the private sector. It is in these areas that even greater vigilance is required. By world standards, data security in New Zealand is generally good.
However, today's front page demonstrates how accessible information can be. And as more and more detail is held on computer the potential for Big Brother to watch us can only grow. Society must ensure that it is his keeper.
Herald Online feature: Privacy
<i>Editorial:</i> The society that can't keep a secret
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