Lord Strasburger
Main Page: Lord Strasburger (Liberal Democrat - Life peer)Department Debates - View all Lord Strasburger's debates with the Ministry of Defence
(8 years, 1 month ago)
Lords ChamberMy Lords, I regret that I cannot support my noble friends’ attempts to remove these clauses from the Bill. I say with great respect to them that it is a misconceived attempt and displays a misunderstanding of what the authorities do, have done and can do. In my judgment, for what it is worth, the removal of these clauses would reduce the capacity of the authorities legitimately to interdict what could be extremely serious crime and catch those guilty of it.
We have heard terms such as “limitless”, “monster” and “unfettered”. At the risk of repeating what has been said earlier on Report, it is grossly exaggerated to suggest that unfettered, monstrous or limitless power is being given to the authorities. There can never have been a Bill on subjects such as these that has had so many fetters on the authorities and that has placed so many limits on what they can do. Indeed, if it has created a monster at all, it is a monster of regulation, not of unregulated activity.
I saw a briefing on these amendments earlier today. They are founded on the proposition that the authorities—the police and the security services—have the time to go on fishing expeditions. If that is what is being said, I can think of at least two kinds of fishing expedition. One is the sort of fishing expedition where you stick a worm on the end of a line and dangle it into water not believing that there is anything in there, and the other involves casting a sprat to catch a mackerel. If there is a fishing expedition here, it is the kind in which the authorities would know that there is very likely to be a mackerel beneath the water into which they cast their well-fattened sprat.
These amendments would inhibit current practice in the courts and in investigations. I can think of two murder cases in which I appeared as leading counsel—one as a prosecutor, the other as a defender—in which a conviction resulted from exactly the kind of activity being permitted in the Bill. In each case, it is certainly possible—I do not want to exaggerate—that there would have been no conviction if not for the availability of this kind of activity. At the time of each of those cases, the activity was nothing like as well-controlled or scrutinised as is proposed in the Bill. The sort of activity that I am describing can and has been used to catch murderers, paedophiles and money launderers as well as terrorists. It is a necessary tool of a responsible state.
The issue is whether the Bill allows this information to be obtained in a responsible way by the state. I believe the Government have gone a very long way to ensure that everybody can be confident that in future such material will be obtained by a responsible state and that these clauses are a necessary part of that activity.
My Lords, I rise to speak to Amendments 100C, 100D and 100E which have been very ably explained by my noble friend Lord Paddick.
When vague and non-specific legislation comes before us, it is perhaps because its authors are unable to be more precise because they have not thought it through or because they choose to not share the details with us. Whichever reason applies in the case of the request filter, there is no doubt that Clauses 64, 65 and 66 are notable more for what they do not say than for what they do. Despite the best efforts of both the Joint Committees on which I had the privilege of sitting—the one on this Bill and the one that examined the draft Communications Data Bill in 2012, in which the request filter first appeared—we are none the wiser about the request filter architecture, how it will work, who will develop it and who will operate it.
We have only to look at an obscure section in an elderly piece of legislation—the Telecommunications Act 1984—to see how overbroad drafting can lead to unintended consequences. Years ago, Section 94 of that Act was used by the Home Office secretly to create a brand new, highly intrusive power—namely, bulk acquisition of communications data—which the Government, to their credit, are now bringing in from the cold in this Bill. For a long time, however, the existence and use of this power carried on without the approval, or even the knowledge, of Parliament. Quite by chance, just a few hours ago, the Investigatory Powers Tribunal ruled that this very powerful secret power of bulk acquisition of communications data, which was created out of that vague section in the Telecommunications Act 1984, has been used illegally by the intelligence and security services for 10 years. We must guard against carelessly passing clauses so vague as to be open to misuse.
My Lords, I am sure that the entire House is grateful to the noble Lord, Lord Paddick, for giving us a comprehensive list of ways in which we can try to keep our communications secret and away from prying eyes. I am sure that every Member of the House is grateful for that tutorial, but the noble Lord does rather elide the question of those people who perhaps have not had the benefit of his tutorial. I realise that the whole world of terrorism and organised crime is listening with intent to every word that he says on these matters, but there will be such. He gave a specific example, saying that communications data in the past would have demonstrated that X had contact at a travel agent. When I book train tickets, I usually do not use WhatsApp or a VPN—I simply go online and connect to the relevant train company. So if somebody wanted to find out whether I had been booking a train ticket, my internet connection record would provide that information. I therefore do not quite understand the argument that, because there are ways that you can avoid the state knowing what you have done if you are really determined, you should therefore prevent it knowing what you have done if you are not really determined.
My understanding is that not all terrorists and not all organised criminals are terribly good with this stuff—that they make mistakes—so the horrifying consequences that the noble Lord describes therefore might not actually occur, and instead, a lot of very nasty people will be caught, because they do not have the noble Lord’s encyclopaedic grasp of ways of keeping communications secret.
Amendment 118A seeks to prevent the creation and collection of internet connection records. My noble friend Lord Paddick has explained why ICRs are of little security value, and that they would be very difficult and expensive to collect and make use of. The only democracy to try was Denmark, which gave up after years of fruitless effort. It tried again at the beginning of this year with a project almost identical to the one planned by the Home Office, but quickly abandoned it when independent auditors confirmed that it would be prohibitively expensive.
I wish to draw the House’s attention to two other serious drawbacks that would arise from creating and storing internet connection records. The first is the serious impact on the privacy of every user of the internet in this country. We must remember that internet connection records do not currently exist, and until quite recently—say, 25 years ago—all the electronic data that would have to be collected together to create ICRs did not exist, either. In those days, our private interactions with those close to us left no trace. A conversation over lunch, a cash purchase at a shop, a visit to a library to do some research, attendance at a political meeting, a romantic assignation—all left no record of having happened. They were ephemeral. What happened between your four walls was between you and your God.
Fast forward to today, and we find that all the interactions I have just mentioned now leave an electronic trail behind them. A combination of credit card records, location services on our phones, our emails and text messages and records of every website we visit will give the whole game away—including the identity of whom we met at our assignation. If internet connection records are created and kept by our service provider, all these electronic trails will be available to hundreds of public authorities, not just the police and security services, on demand and simply by self-authorisation.
The Government have given this data the name “internet connection records”, which is technically accurate, but what they really are is private activity records: a log of everything we do and when and where we do it. The problem is not that the surveillance can occur at all, but that it happens indiscriminately to all of us, all the time. My second topic is the ironic fact that ICRs will actually reduce our security, rather than improve it, because of the virtual certainty of thefts of some of that private and personal data about every internet user in the country. If you do not believe me, consider just a few of the thousands—and I mean thousands—of recent data thefts from high-security establishments. I mentioned in Committee that SWIFT, the fulcrum of the global financial payments system, has had $81 million stolen from it by hackers. Last week, it emerged that it has been penetrated a second time. A gang of five eastern Europeans is believed to be behind the theft of 3 billion sets of customer data worldwide from many of the world’s leading tech companies, including the data of 500 million Yahoo! customers. As I mentioned earlier, powerful hacking tools belonging to the NSA, the American equivalent of GCHQ, suddenly appeared on the internet in August having been stolen from it, and two Israelis and an American stole 100 million people’s records from 12 US financial institutions. Those are just a few examples—as I say, there are many more—of thefts from sites which, dare I say it, were seemingly far more secure than those of UK service providers.
Internet connection records, or private activity records, will be stolen and the consequences will range from embarrassment to blackmail and fraud for the unfortunate victims. In the case of people in positions of responsibility, including government officials, the consequences could be catastrophic. Far from making us safer, ICRs would compromise our security and, as I have explained, seriously intrude on our citizens’ privacy. We should have nothing to do with them.
My Lords, I rise to speak against this amendment. As the chief executive of a telecoms company, I clearly cannot profess a lack of understanding of the technology. I am a little confused by noble Lords’ concern that internet connection records can be got round and are not perfect because telephony is exactly the same. If I make a telephone call and am really smart, I know how to make sure that you do not know what number or where in the world I am calling from. Without needing to be that smart, I can buy a temporary SIM card and throw the phone away as soon as I have made the call. Organised crime and nation states have been able to use plenty of ways to obfuscate the existing ability for us to track telephony. That does not mean we think it a bad idea to be able to track people’s telephone calls.
I argue that exactly the same is true of internet connection records and their use by law enforcement agencies. It would not be perfect; no piece of technology ever is. It needs very careful scrutiny, which the Bill has had in both Houses. But I want to live in not just a civilised physical world but a civilised digital world, and when all our law enforcement agencies say that their ability to hunt down criminals is seriously hampered by the world moving to the digital space, we should take that very seriously and make sure that we arm them with the best possible tools. I believe that access to internet connection records is practically possible and desirable to create a civilised digital world.