PPSA Asks Supreme Court to Hear X Corp.’s Constitutional Case Against Surveillance Gag Orders7/10/2024
PPSA announced today the filing of an amicus brief asking the U.S. Supreme Court to take up a case in which X Corp., formerly Twitter, objects to surveillance and gag orders that violate the First Amendment and pose a threat to the Fourth and Sixth Amendments as well.
When many consumers think of their digital privacy, they think first of what’s on their computers and shared with others by text or email. But the complex, self-regulating network that is the internet is not so simple. Our online searches, texts, images, and emails – including sensitive, personal information about health, mental health, romances, and finances – are backed up on the “cloud,” including data centers like X Corp.’s that distribute storage and computing capacity. Therein lies the greatest vulnerability for government snooping. The growth of data centers is prolific, rising from 2,600 to 5,300 such centers in 2024. And with it, so have government demands for our data. When federal agencies – often without a warrant – seek to access Americans’ personal data, more often than not they go to the companies that store the data in places like these data centers. For years, this power involved large social media and telecom companies. The power of the government to extract data, already robust, increased exponentially with the reauthorization of FISA Section 702 in April, which included what many call the “Make Everyone a Spy Act.” This provision defines an electronic communication service provider as virtually any company that merely has access to equipment, like Wi-Fi and routers, that is used to transmit or store electronic communications. On top of that, the government then slaps the data center or service provider with a Non-Disclosure Order (NDO), a gag order that prevents the company from informing customers that their private information has been reviewed. One such company – X Corp. – has been pressing a constitutional challenge against this practice regarding a government demand for former President Trump’s account data. PPSA has joined in an amicus brief supporting X’s bid for certiorari, asking the Court to consider the constitutional objections to government conscription of companies that host consumers’ data as adjunct spies, while restraining their ability to speak out on this conscription. In the case of X, the government has seized the company’s records on customer communications and then slapped the company with an NDO to force it to shut up about it. The government claims this secrecy is needed to protect the investigation, even though the government itself has already publicized the details of its investigation. Whatever you think of Donald Trump, this is an Orwellian practice. PPSA’s amicus brief informed the Court that the gag order “makes a mockery of the First Amendment’s longstanding precedent governing prior restraints. And it will only become more frequent as third-party cloud storage becomes increasingly common for everything from business records to personal files to communications …” The brief informs the Court: “NDOs can be used to undermine other constitutionally protected rights” beyond the First Amendment. These rights include the short-circuiting of Fourth Amendment rights against warrantless searches and Sixth Amendment rights to a public trial in which a defendant can know the evidence against him. Partial solutions to these short-comings are winding their way through the legislative process. Sen. Mark Warner, Chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, introduced legislation to narrow the scope of businesses covered by the new, almost-universal dragooning of businesses large and small as government spies – though House Intelligence Chairman Mike Turner is opposing that reasonable provision. Last year, the House passed the NDO Fairness Act, which requires judicial review and limited disclosures for these restraints on speech and privacy. As partial solutions wend their way through Congress, this case presents a number of well-defined concerns best defined by the Supreme Court. PPSA today announced the filing of a lawsuit to compel the FBI to produce records about the possible use of FISA Section 702 authority – enacted by Congress to enable surveillance of foreign targets on foreign soil – for political surveillance of Americans at home.
Activists on the left and the right have long suspected the FBI uses surreptitious means to spy on lawful protests and speech. Those suspicions were confirmed when a FISA court decision released in 2022 revealed that government investigators had used Section 702 global database to surveil all 19,000 donors to a single Congressional campaign. Acting on this concern, PPSA submitted a FOIA request to the FBI in February seeking all records discussing the use of Section 702 or other FISA authorities to surveil, collect information related to, or otherwise investigate anyone who attended:
The FBI almost immediately responded to PPSA that our FOIA request “is not searchable” in the FBI’s “indices.” The response also informed us that the FBI “administratively closed” our request. The FBI did not dispute that PPSA’s FOIA request reasonably described the requested records. This should have, under the FOIA statute, triggered a search requirement, but the FBI ignored it. The self-serving excuse that limitations to the FBI’s Central Records System overlooks the plentiful databases and search methods at the fingertips of one of the world’s premier investigative organizations. After a fruitless appeal to the Department of Justice’s Office of Information Policy, exhausting any administrative remedy, PPSA is now suing in the U.S. District Court of the District of Columbia to compel the FBI to produce these documents. We’ll keep you informed of any major developments. “Curtilage” is a legal word that means the enclosed area around a home in which the occupant has an expectation of privacy. Within the zone of curtilage, the Fourth Amendment implications usually force law enforcement officers to obtain a warrant before they can enter. Where curtilage begins and ends has long been a matter of fine, Jesuitic distinctions, hotly contested in courts across the country.
Sometimes the boundaries are obvious. In a landmark case, the U.S. Supreme Court in 2021 held in Lange v. California that a police officer who followed a driver into his garage entered his curtilage. The officer had no right to do so without a warrant. PPSA was pleased to see the Court adopt logic similar to our amicus brief in Lange. So much for garages. Now what about doorknobs? Terrell McNeal Jr. of Mankato, Minnesota, was arrested after police obtained a probable cause warrant to enter his apartment and found controlled substances, cash, and guns. The evidence behind the warrant was derived from his doorknob. A police officer had earlier obtained a code from the apartment’s landlord to enter the structure’s interior communal space. He had proceeded to swab the doorknob of McNeal’s front door. It tested positive for two controlled substances. That was the basis of the warrant. The doorknob was tainted, to be sure. But that left a nagging legal question: Was the search warrant itself tainted by a violation of McNeal’s curtilage? A district court did not think so. It bought the prosecution’s argument that the door handle and lock were outside of McNeal’s home. A county prosecutor made this point on appeal: “If the court looks at the door itself, it prevents people from looking into the home. That doesn’t make the outside of the door curtilage.” Actually, it does, ruled the Minnesota Court of Appeals. On June 10, the appellate court found that officers have “no implied license to remove material from the door handle and lock for laboratory testing.” The court did distinguish this case from one in which a search warrant was obtained after a drug-sniffing dog found the aromatic traces of narcotics in the air in front of an apartment. But the officers in the McNeil case, the court ruled, “went a step further and collected a sample from a door handle and lock that were physically attached to and indivisible from appellant’s home.” The Minnesota Court of Appeals made the correct decision, voiding the conviction. As for McNeal, the authorities kept him in prison since his arrest more than two years ago, until the appellate court ruled in his favor. But at least the court recognized that swabbing any part of a home without a warrant is a violation of the Fourth Amendment. In the early 1920s revenue agents staked out a South Carolina home the agents suspected was being used as a distribution center for moonshine whiskey. The revenue agents were in luck. They saw a visitor arrive to receive a bottle from someone inside the house. The agents moved in. The son of the home’s owner, a man named Hester, realized that he was about to be arrested and sprinted with the bottle to a nearby car, picked up a gallon jug, and ran into an open field.
One of the agents fired a shot into the air, prompting Hester to toss the jug, which shattered. Hester then threw the bottle in the open field. Officers found a large fragment of the broken jug and the discarded bottle both contained moonshine whiskey. This was solid proof that moonshine was being sold. But was it admissible as evidence? After all, the revenue agents did not have a warrant. This case eventually wound its way to the Supreme Court. In 1924, a unanimous Court, presided over by Chief Justice (and former U.S. President) William Howard Taft, held that the Fourth Amendment did not apply to this evidence. Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, writing the Court’s opinion, declared that “the special protection accorded by the Fourth Amendment to the people in their ‘persons, houses, papers and effects,’ is not extended to the open field.” This principle was later extended to exclude any garbage that a person throws away from Fourth Amendment protections. As strange as it may seem, this case about broken jugs and moonshine from the 1920s, Hester v. United States, provides the principle by which law enforcement officers freely help themselves to the information inside a discarded or lost cellphone – text messages, emails, bank records, phone calls, and images. We reported a case in 2022 in which a Virginia man was convicted of crimes based on police inspection of a cellphone he had left behind in a restaurant. That man’s attorney, Brandon Boxler, told the Daily Press of Newport News that “cellphones are different. They have massive storage capabilities. A search of a cellphone involves a much deeper invasion of privacy. The depth and breadth of personal and private information they contain was unimaginable in 1924.” In Riley v. California, the Supreme Court in 2018 upheld that a warrant was required to inspect the contents of a suspect’s cellphone. But the Hester rule still applies to discarded and lost phones. They are still subject to what Justice Holmes called the rules of the open field. The American Civil Liberties Union, ACLU Oregon, the Electronic Privacy Information Center, and other civil liberties organizations are challenging this doctrine before the Ninth Circuit in Hunt v. United States. They told the court that it should not use the same reasoning that has historically applied to garbage left out for collection and items discarded in a hotel wastepaper basket. “Our cell phones provide access to information comparable in quantity and breadth to what police might glean from a thorough search of a house,” ACLU said in a posted statement. “Unlike a house, though, a cell phone is relatively easy to lose. You carry it with you almost all the time. It can fall between seat cushions or slip out of a loose pocket. You might leave it at the check-out desk after making a purchase or forget it on the bus as you hasten to make your stop … It would be absurd to suggest that a person intends to open up their house for unrestrained searches by police whenever they drop their house key.” Yet that is the government position on lost and discarded cellphones. PPSA applauds and supports the ACLU and its partners for taking a strong stand on cellphone privacy. The logic of extending special protections to cellphones, which the Supreme Court has held contain the “privacies of life,” is obvious. It is the government’s position that tastes like something cooked up in a still. A report by The New York Time’s Vivian Wang in Beijing and one by Tech Policy’s Marwa Sayed in New York describes the twin strategies for surveilling a nation’s population, in the United States as well as in China.
Wang chronicles the move by China’s dictator, Xi Jinping, to round out the pervasive social media and facial recognition surveillance capability of the state by bringing back Mao-era human snitching. Wang writes that Xi wants local surveillance that is “more visible, more invasive, always on the lookout for real or perceived threats. Officers patrol apartment buildings listening for feuding neighbors. Officials recruit retirees playing chess outdoors as extra eyes and ears. In the workplace, employers are required to appoint ‘safety consultants’ who report regularly to the police.” Xi, Wang reports, explicitly links this new emphasis on human domestic surveillance to the era when “the party encouraged residents to ‘re-educate’ purported political enemies, through so-called struggle sessions where people were publicly insulted and humiliated …” Creating a society of snitches supports the vast network of social media surveillance, in which every “improper” message or text can be reviewed and flagged by AI. Chinese citizens are already followed everywhere by location beacons and a national network of surveillance cameras and facial recognition technology. Marwa Sayed writes about the strategy of technology surveillance contained in several bills in New York State. One bill in the state legislature would force the owners of driver-for-hire vehicles to install rear-facing cameras in their cars, presumably capturing private conversations by passengers. Another state bill would mandate surveillance cameras at racetracks to monitor human and equine traffic, watching over people in their leisure time. “Legislators seem to have decided that the cure to what ails us is a veritable panopticon of cameras that spares no one and reaches further and further into our private lives,” Sayed writes. She notes another measure before the New York City Council that would require the Department of Sanitation to install surveillance cameras to counter the insidious threat of people putting household trash into public litter baskets. Sayed writes: “As the ubiquity of cameras grows, so do the harms. Research shows that surveillance and the feeling it creates of constantly being watched leads to anxiety and paranoia. People may start to feel there is no point to personal privacy because you’ll be watched wherever you go. It makes us wary about taking risks and dampens our ability to interact with one another as social creatures.” Without quite meaning to, federal, state, and local authorities are merging the elements of a national surveillance system. This system draws on agencies’ purchases of our sensitive, personal information from data brokers, as well as increasingly integrated camera, facial recognition, and other surveillance networks. And don’t think that organized human snitching can’t come to these shores either. During World War One, the federal government authorized approved citizens to join neighborhood watch groups with badges inscribed with the words, “American Protection League – Secret Service.” At a time when Americans were sent to prison for opposing the war, the American Protection League kept tabs on neighbors, always on the watch out for anyone who seemed insufficiently enthusiastic about the war. Americans could be reported to the Department of Justice for listening to Beethoven on their phonographs or checking out books about German culture from the library. Today, large numbers of FBI and other government employees secretly “suggest” that social media companies remove posts that contain “disinformation.” They monitor social media to track posts of people, whether targeted by the FBI as traditional Catholics or observant Muslims, for signs of extremism. As world tension grows between the United States and China, Russia, Iran and North Korea, something like the American Protection League might be resurrected soon in response to a foreign policy crisis. Its digital ghost is already watching us. The surveillance state is hitting small businesses hard lately. If the “Make Everyone a Spy” provision weren’t enough, the Corporate Transparency Act (CTA) imposes sweeping disclosure requirements on “beneficial owners” of small businesses, with harsh punishments for mistakes on an official form.
After the National Small Business Association sued the Treasury Department, a federal court declared the CTA unconstitutional. It issued a scholarly opinion that explored the nuances of Congress’s power to regulate interstate commerce. Treasury appealed to the Eleventh Circuit. In our amicus brief, PPSA tells the Eleventh Circuit that the lower court got it right, but that there’s an easier way to resolve this case. We inform the court that the Fourth Amendment provides the “straightforward and resounding answer” that the CTA is unconstitutional. PPSA warns that the CTA’s database provisions pose an unprecedented threat to Americans’ privacy that are “even more disturbing” than the new rule’s disclosure requirements. We explain that the information collected from tens of millions of beneficial owners will be stored in what the government calls an “accurate, complete, and highly useful database” that can be searched by multiple federal agencies, no warrant required. And while the government claims this data will be used to catch tax cheats, the CTA says it will be used in conjunction with state and tribal authorities, who have no power to enforce federal tax laws. Creating such a database for warrantless inspection by the FBI, IRS, DEA, and Department of Homeland Security is obviously ripe for abuse. Our brief explains how this database could be used to identify owners of businesses with an ideological character – like political booksellers – and single out their investors for retaliation. This is not a far-fetched hypothetical. Many agencies, including the Treasury Department, have engaged in politically motivated financial investigations, documented in detail by the House Judiciary Committee. Our brief notes that the database will be so sophisticated that it should be evaluated under a U.S. Supreme Court precedent addressing high-tech surveillance, just as the Fourth Circuit did for Baltimore’s database-driven aerial surveillance program. And that precedent explains that surveillance tools can’t be used to undermine the sort of privacy that existed when the Fourth Amendment was adopted. We told the court: “This database thus has the sort of ‘depth, breadth, and comprehensive reach,’ that is simply incompatible with ‘preservation of that degree of privacy against government that existed when the Fourth Amendment was adopted.’” As pernicious as the database itself is, recent advances in technology make it even worse. With modern machine learning, seemingly innocuous personal details can be linked up in disturbing ways. For instance, researchers have known how to identify authors based on a collection of anonymous posts since 2022. PPSA points out that the government could identify authors with views it dislikes, see if they pop up in the beneficial owner database, and have multiple agencies launch pretextual investigations. Next, we address how advancing AI technology could make such surveillance even more potent, then urged the court not to “leave the public at the mercy of advancing technology,” but to preserve Founding-era levels of privacy despite the march of technology. Readers might notice a pattern of AI exacerbating existing privacy invasions, from mass facial recognition to drone surveillance to a proliferating body of databases. So far, the government has relied on the “special needs” exception. This rule allows the government to keep its own house in order, with the warrantless drug testing of schoolteachers and top-secret national security employees. But this authority is often abused, as we’ve noted previously. Our brief explains that this exception doesn’t even apply to information collected to identify crimes – which is exactly what the government claims the CTA is supposed to help with. But the struggle for constitutional rights and privacy remains multilayered. If the CTA remains struck down, the government will still be purchasing vast amounts of Americans’ personal information from shady “data brokers.” That’s why we applauded the House recently for passing the Fourth Amendment Is Not For Sale Act, and urge the Senate to do so as well. Now it is up to the Eleventh Circuit to protect the American people from an overbearing government, hungry to track our every move. The long back-and-forth between Michigan’s Long Lake Township and Todd and Heather Maxon ended with the Michigan Supreme Court punting on the Fourth Amendment implications of drone surveillance over private property.
An appellate court had held that the township’s warrantless use of a drone three times in 2017 to photograph the Todd’s property was an unreasonable, warrantless search, constituting a Fourth Amendment violation. PPSA filed a brief supporting the Maxons before the Michigan Supreme Court, alerting the court to the danger of intimate searches of home and residents by relatively inexpensive drones now on the market. To demonstrate the privacy threat of drones, PPSA informed the court that commercially available drones have thermal cameras that can penetrate beyond what is visible to the naked eye. They can be equipped with animal herd tracking algorithms that can enhance the surveillance of people. Drones can swarm and loiter, providing round-the-clock surveillance. They can carry lightweight cell-site simulators that prompt the mobile phones of people inside the targeted home to give up data that reveals deeply personal information. Furthermore, PPSA’s brief states that drones “can see around walls, see in the dark, track people by heat signatures, and recognize and track specific people by their face.” PPSA agreed that even ordinary photography from a camera hovering over the Maxon’s property violated, in the words of an appellate court, the Maxon’s reasonable expectation of privacy. But in a unanimous decision, Michigan’s top court was having none of this. It concluded that the exclusionary rule – a judicial doctrine in which evidence is excluded or suppressed – is generally applied when law enforcement violates a defendant’s constitutional rights in a criminal case. The justices remanded the case based upon a procedural issue unrelated to the Fourth Amendment question. The Michigan Supreme Court, therefore, declined to address “whether the use of an aerial drone under the circumstances presented here is an unreasonable search in violation of the United States or Michigan Constitutions.” A crestfallen Todd Maxon responded, “Like every American, I have a right to be secure on my property without being watched by a government drone.” The issue between the township and the Maxons was the contention that, behind the shelter of trees, the couple was growing a salvage operation. This violated an earlier settlement agreement the Maxons had made pledging not to keep a junkyard on their five-acre property. Given the potential for drones to use imaging and sensor technology to violate the intimate lives of families, it is all but inevitable that a better – and uglier – test case will come along. If anything, this ruling makes it a virtual certainty. Well, that didn’t take long.
A little more than three weeks ago Congress reauthorized FISA Section 702, a surveillance program enacted to authorize foreign surveillance but which is often used by the FBI to snoop on Americans’ communications caught up in the NSA’s global data trawl. Central to that debate was whether 702 should be made to conform to the Fourth Amendment’s bar against unreasonable searches. The House and Senate fiercely debated late into the night over whether to reauthorize this flawed program. Supporters said it is vital to national security. Critics said that is no excuse for the FBI using Section 702 to surveil large numbers of Americans in recent years, including sitting Members of the House and Senate, journalists, politicians, a state judge, and 19,000 donors to a Congressional campaign. In the House that debate culminated in a 212 to 212 tie vote. That’s how close advocates of privacy and freedom for law-abiding citizens from warrantless government surveillance came to victory. The intelligence establishment and its champions on Capitol Hill won many votes with promises. They included in their bill a codification of a list of new internal FBI procedures that they promised would curb any abuses of Americans’ privacy. FBI Director Christopher Wray promised that agents would be “good stewards” who would protect the homeland “while safeguarding civil rights and liberties.” On April 19, the Senate finalized the reauthorization of Section 702 and sent it to President Biden to be signed into law. On April 20, FBI deputy director Paul Abbate emailed Bureau employees, stating: “To continue to demonstrate why tools like this [Section 702] are essential, we need to use them, while also holding ourselves accountable for doing so properly and in compliance with legal requirements.” He added, “I urge everyone to continue to look for ways to appropriately use US person queries to advance the mission …” Wired, which obtained a copy of the memo, quoted Rep. Zoe Lofgren (D-CA), who said that Deputy Director Abbate’s email directly contradicted earlier assertions from the FBI made during the debate over Section 702’s reauthorization. “The deputy director’s email seems to show that the FBI is actively pushing for more surveillance of Americans, not out of necessity but as a default,” Rep. Lofgren said. The FBI reports it has drawn down the number of such U.S. person queries from about 3 million in 2021 to 57,094 in 2023. As Wired notes, however, the FBI methodology counts multiple accessing of Americans’ personal identifier, such as phone numbers, as just a single search. As Wired reports, the FBI’s proud assertion that its compliance rate of 98 percent with its more stringent rules would still leave it with more than 1,000 violations of its own policies. With the deputy director arrogantly pushing the Bureau to make greater use of Section 702 for the warrantless surveillance of Americans, we can only wonder what the numbers of U.S. person searches will be in the next few years. Whatever happens, the more than 150 civil liberties organizations, including PPSA, will be back when Section 702 is next up for reauthorization in less than two years. The Constitution’s protections of the people cannot be ignored. The U.S. Supreme Court held in Riley v. California (2014) that police must obtain a warrant from a judge before inspecting the digital contents of a suspect’s cellphone. The reason, the Court memorably opined, is that a cellphone holds “the privacies of life.”
But what about a backpack? Or a purse? Or a shopping bag? Such items don’t come close to having the deep privacy implications of a cellphone, which is stuffed with location data, recent call logs, emails, and personal photos. But personal carry containers, too, can hold items reasonably considered to be private. Are police free to paw through a bag or backpack, or does the same principle from Riley also apply to them? This question is central to the case of William Bembury, who was suspected by police of selling a joint containing synthetic marijuana when he was placed under arrest in a park in Lexington, Kentucky, in 2019. While Bembury was placed in handcuffs, officers searched his backpack and found a small bag of synthetic marijuana and a few dollars. However, Bembury was not wearing the backpack when police searched it – a key fact, since police are allowed to search a person under arrest, including any containers on their person, to ensure officers’ safety. But Bembury’s backpack was sitting on a park table at the time of the arrest. And Bembury never consented to the police search of it. When Bembury appealed on Fourth Amendment grounds, he won in a state appeals court. But he lost before the Kentucky Supreme Court. Kalvis Golde of Scotusblog writes of that court’s dilemma: “Acknowledging that the U.S. Supreme Court has yet to decide whether items like backpacks or purses are categorically protected by the Fourth Amendment during arrest, the state supreme court was split on how to proceed.” In the end, a majority of Kentucky Justices held that because the backpack had been immediately in Bembury’s possession, the officers were justified in their search. Bembury is now asking the Supreme Court to grant review and bring clarity to a hodgepodge of state precedents. Bembury’s petition for review asks the Supreme Court to give state courts a principle by which to draw a line between the permissible search of a person, and nearby “purses, backpacks, suitcases, briefcases, gyms bags, computer bags, fanny packs, etc.” The appeal notes “there is little uniformity” with state courts that “have not yet parsed this issue in those exact terms.” Justices might feel that this case itself is a bit of a Pandora’s backpack. Without a clear standard, police are free to paw though any object they wish. On the other hand, a suspect carrying a backpack stuffed with contraband might simply toss it a few yards away and refuse to allow officers’ to inspect it. The Court might consider that it is odd that a clearer standard exists in the digital world with cellphones under Riley (though still sometimes honored in the breach) than with physical objects an arm’s reach away from a suspect. The high Court should consider granting a review of this case to bring clarity to how the law treats evidence in thousands of cases every year. Byron Tau – journalist and author of Means of Control, How the Hidden Alliance of Tech and Government Is Creating a New American Surveillance State – discusses the details of his investigative reporting with Liza Goitein, senior director of the Brennan Center for Justice's Liberty & National Security Program, and Gene Schaerr, general counsel of the Project for Privacy and Surveillance Accountability.
Byron explains what he has learned about the shadowy world of government surveillance, including how federal agencies purchase Americans’ most personal and sensitive information from shadowy data brokers. He then asks Liza and Gene about reform proposals now before Congress in the FISA Section 702 debate, and how they would rein in these practices. Just as the government hates encryption, so too does it hate encryption’s physical analogue in the form of safety deposit boxes.
The mere existence of US Private Vaults – a company in Beverly Hills that could not reveal customers’ names because it did not collect them and could not open the vaults it provided because it did not keep duplicate keys – was prima facie evidence to the FBI of wrongdoing. Seeking to expose what it believed would be a nest of drug dealer cash, the FBI persuaded a magistrate to allow agents to open these vaults with the express purpose of checking the identities of account holders on sheets taped to the inside of the vault’s safety deposit boxes. FBI agents took this warrant as an excuse to seize assets over $5,000 – though the owners were charged with no crime. In 2021, Reason documented in stills taken from surveillance footage how agents rampaged through the vaults and boxes in a frenzy, ripping open a heavy-duty envelope full of gold coins kept by an 80-year-old woman for her retirement savings. Coins fell to the floor, which the FBI cannot account for now. Some $2,000 in cash seemingly “disappeared.” The woman and other victims, with the help of the Institute for Justice, mounted a class-action lawsuit against the FBI. While US Private Vaults later pled guilty to money laundering charges, these plaintiffs had a host of mundane reasons for turning to its services. Reasons varied from distrust of the stability of banks during the Covid era, to transferring assets from a bank in a wildfire zone, to finding that safety deposit boxes at other institutions had long waiting lists. The Ninth Circuit unanimously reversed a lower court verdict and rebuked the FBI for a lawless search. Judge Milan Smith Jr. said the government had opened the door to the “limitless searches of an individual’s personal belongings” reminiscent of the agents of the British crown in ransacking colonial America. The Ninth’s strong stand for the Fourth Amendment is good news. But, as we have seen in governments’ war on encryption, there is a mindset shared by many in law enforcement that something private is inherently suspicious and worthy of warrantless examination. “We Don’t Need a Warrant" A federal class-action lawsuit in Brooklyn claims that caseworkers from New York City’s Administration for Children’s Services use lies, coercive techniques, and threats to gain entry into homes without a court order.
The plaintiffs tell a chilling story in their filing. “One night, without warning, a mother in New York City hears a knock on the door. Her children are home with her. The family is cooking, or playing, or sleeping. “When the mother opens the door, two government investigators are standing outside, loudly demanding to be let inside. She is surprised and confused. She asks what this is about. The investigators command the mother. You have to let us in. We need to look in your home. We don’t need a warrant. We’re going to get the police here if you refuse. We’re not leaving until we come inside. If you don’t let us in, we’re going to take your children. “The mother has no choice, it seems. Terrified, she reluctantly opens the door and steps aside, and the investigators walk into her home. It is clear that there is no present danger to anyone in the house, but still the investigators search the home top to bottom. They look inside medicine cabinets, under beds, in closets and dresser drawers, in the refrigerator, and in the cupboards. The mother does not know why this is happening. The children are scared by the strangers combing through their clothes. “The investigators demand to see the children’s bodies under their clothes. They tell the mother to leave them alone in a room with her children. The investigators command the children. Lift up your shirt. Pull down your pants. I need to see your chest, your legs, your back. The mother fears that if she does not acquiesce to the investigators’ demands, they will take her children at any moment. Her fear is reasonable; the investigators are telling her that might happen. “The investigators leave as abruptly as they arrived. They have threatened to return, even though they found no evidence that the children are in danger. There seem to be no rules and no laws to protect the mother and her children from this intrusion.” This may seem a little novelistic for a court filing. Yet this vignette agrees with an interview given by one of the plaintiffs, Shavano Warmington, a mother of six who lives in Queens. She told The New York Daily News, “When ACS comes, they treat me like a criminal in my own home. They give no respect to my wishes. They come banging the doors so loud that the neighbors came out wanting to know what was going on. The caseworkers don’t show identification and they threaten to bring the police if I don’t allow them entry.” As with law enforcement, child protective agencies must balance their need to investigate against the need to respect the Fourth Amendment, which forbids entry into a home without a warrant. An ACS spokeswoman told The Daily News that the agency is expanding an initiative to inform families of their rights during child welfare probes. It should be said that these claims have yet to be adjudicated. We affirm that society has no more urgent or solemn obligation than to protect children. For this reason, the child protective service agencies throughout the United States are instrumental in investigating possible cases of abuse and neglect. Surely this important job can be performed with sensitivity and respect for the constitutional rights of parents. |
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