When construction worker Rob Milliron sat down to eat his lunch in
Tampa’s Ybor City entertainment district in July 2001, he didn’t expect
that it would result in a visit to his workplace by police officers
looking to arrest him. His innocent dining inadvertently placed him in a
showcase for one of the hottest trends in high-tech surveillance
security: facial recognition cameras.Milliron’s face, scanned by the
cameras, ended up in a U.S. News & World Report article about the
technology. The accompanying headline read: "You can’t hide those lying
eyes in Tampa." Then a woman in Oklahoma saw the picture, misidentified
Milliron as her ex-husband, who was wanted on child neglect charges, and
called the police. After convincing police he had never been married,
had kids, or even been to Oklahoma, he told the St. Petersburg Times,
"They made me feel like a criminal."
Milliron perhaps can take some comfort from the fact that, as the use
of facial recognition technology (FRT) for police work spreads, he won’t
be alone in being falsely suspected. FRT advocates offer Americans a
sweet-sounding deal: sell your privacy for security. That’s an
especially comforting pitch in the wake of 9/11. We’ve all seen the
grainy photos of Mohammed Atta and crew waltzing through airport
security. If only those cameras had been linked to the proper criminal
databases, say FRT proponents, the attackers never would have made it
onto the planes.
But FRT, currently used in at least two U.S. cities and widespread
throughout Great Britain, is notoriously unreliable and ineffective. At
its best, it brings to our streets the high-tech equivalent of the
Department of Transportation’s airport security policy: humiliate and
search everyone ineffectively.
That’s bad enough, but the real problems will occur if FRT ever does
start working as promised. It threatens to create a creepy future of
ubiquitous spy cameras that will be used by police for purposes far less
noble than thwarting terrorists.
FRT works by combining photographic images with computer databases.
After an image is captured by a camera, a computer program measures some
of the 80 or so nodal points on your face, such as the distance between
your eyes, the width of your nose, the depth of your eye sockets, and
the length of your jaw line. The technology then turns the nodal
measurements into a numerical code called a "faceprint." A properly
working face recognition system supposedly can match a person standing
in front of a camera with a record from a database including tens of
millions of faceprints. Criminals, say proponents, would have nowhere to
hide. And law-abiding citizens would have no reason to fear.
Yet for the most part, FRT hasn’t worked as intended. The Milliron
incident in Tampa was just one of a string of national flops for face
scanners, which prior to 9/11 were widely derided even as they were
being implemented or considered by several municipalities, including
Tampa; Jacksonville, Florida; and Virginia Beach, Virginia. At the time,
FRT was being marketed as a tool to catch wanted felons and find
runaways and missing persons. Nonetheless, a measure was introduced in
the Virginia legislature requiring a judge’s approval to use FRT, and in
Tampa city council members who had approved its use claimed they had
been fooled and didn’t know what they had voted for.
Then the terrorists attacked, and everything seemed to change. The
Virginia legislature dropped the bill requiring judicial approval.
Executives at FRT firms testified before Congress and were called on by
intelligence and law enforcement agencies. Tom Colatosti, CEO of Viisage
Technology, told reporters, "If our technology had been deployed, the
likelihood is [the terrorists] would have been recognized." Major
airports, including Boston’s Logan, Dallas-Fort Worth International, and
Palm Beach International, have installed test versions of FRT. While the
stock market was slumping, scanning companies Visionics and Identix saw
their share prices shoot up 244 percent and 197 percent, respectively,
in the six months following 9/11. (The two companies have since merged
and are now known as Identix.)
Yet one stubborn fact remains: FRT doesn’t work. In March, Palm Beach
International Airport ran a test of Visionics’ "Argus" facial
recognition system (a version that can be plugged into existing closed
circuit TV systems) at its Concourse C security checkpoint. Fifteen
airport employees tried to get through the security checkpoint. The
security checkers had a database of 250 faceprints, including those of
the 15 testers. Over a four-week period, the testers made 958 attempts
to pass through the checkpoint; the face recognition system stopped them
455 times, for a success rate of only 47 percent. On top of that, there
were 1,081 false alarms triggered by ordinary passengers and other
airport employees passing through the scanners. That worked out to two
or three false alarms per hour.
In the experiment, the people who triggered false positives didn’t
have to be pulled aside and interrogated by the police. But imagine what
would happen if they did; imagine FRT on every concourse of the airport,
using a database of "wanted" suspects numbering in the hundreds of
thousands. That would make for at least dozens of false positives every
hour.
What happens if you’re one of the folks detained? After the police
have marched you into the interrogation room, how do you prove that
you’re really who your identification says you are, and not a terrorist
(or an ordinary fugitive) using false ID? If you’re one of the airport
cops, how do you go about your job knowing that the overwhelming
majority of the suspects are in fact innocent?
The Palm Beach test isn’t the only one that casts a shadow on FRT.
Richard Smith, former head of the Privacy Foundation at Denver
University and now a privacy and Internet security consultant in
Brookline, Massachusetts, conducted his own test of the Visionics
"FaceIt" system. He got similarly unimpressive results.
Smith found that changes in lighting, eyeglasses, background objects,
camera position, and facial position and expression all seriously
affected image quality and system efficacy. He concluded that airport
use of FRT would require "special walkways where lighting is tightly
controlled and passengers pass single file." Passengers would have to be
"instructed to remove hats and glasses and look straight ahead at a
head-height camera."
None of this fits with the exaggerated claims in favor of FRT made by
those selling it and repeated as fact by gullible media outlets.
According to the Denver Post, "It doesn’t matter if you gain 200
pounds or go bald between photographs. Short of plastic surgery the
camera will recognize you." Unless, of course, you put on sunglasses, or
cock your head, or make a funny face.
Or get older. A study by the National Institute of Standards and
Technology found a 43 percent failure rate for pictures of the same
person taken one and a half years apart. Similarly, the Defense
Department funded a test of commercially available FRT. It found that
the systems failed one-third of the time and produced a large number of
false positives. The impressive reliability rates you hear from the face
scanning companies are usually based on tests in laboratories under
optimal conditions.
Yet "even if the technology worked perfectly," Smith observes, "it
would still allow 99 percent of the terrorists through....The biggest
problem with face recognition systems is the simple fact that we don’t
know who the terrorists are and law enforcement doesn’t have their
pictures. Spotting terrorists at airports is simply the wrong use of
this technology."
Even if we did know who the terrorists were, we’d have to sit them
all down for a session with Annie Leibovitz for FRT to be useful.
According to the testers at Palm Beach International, "Input photographs
needed to be of good quality to make successful matches." Similarly,
people being scanned need to stand still, look straight at the camera,
and not wear glasses. As the Palm Beach study acknowledged: "Motion of
test subject head has a significant effect on system ability. There was
substantial loss in matching if test subject had a pose 15 to 30 degrees
off of input camera focal point and eyeglasses were problematic."
Mass face scanning was formally introduced to the American public in
January 2001 at Super Bowl XXXV in Tampa, when football fans had their
faces surreptitiously checked with a Viisage system and compared to a
database of known criminals. The Tampa authorities then began to use
scanning in the Ybor City entertainment district. They targeted people
strolling down the street or eating lunch, comparing their faceprints to
a database of criminals and runaways.
Using open record requests, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU)
discovered that the system was essentially abandoned within months of
its highly publicized rollout. No correct matches had been made to the
criminal database. Instead, according to the ACLU, the system matched
"male and female subjects and subjects with significant differences in
age and weight."
Put another way, FRT can be dumber than Inspector Clouseau: Even he
could distinguish a man from a woman, or a short fat man from a tall
thin man. The Tampa police, for their part, deny they have abandoned
FRT, saying they are revamping it to work with more cameras.
Before they spend the money, they should take a closer look at the
experience in the world capital of FRT. The London borough of Newham,
with a population of about 250,000, is widely touted by advocates as
proof of the technology’s awesome crime-fighting ability. Newham boasts
approximately 300 government cameras located in strategic places and
linked to Visionics’ FaceIt system.
Newham’s FRT is credited by advocates and local government officials
with cutting crime by nearly 40 percent since 1998. That effect, if
real, was apparently not long-lasting. According to a United Press
International report, street robberies and car theft -- two crimes for
which FRT is supposed to be an especially powerful deterrent -- were on
the rise again in Newham last year.
And as Jeffrey Rosen reported in The New York Times Magazine
last October, the Newham spy system has not resulted in a single arrest
during its three years of operation. Nor do the people who run the
system even know who is in the database. The deterrent effect, to the
extent there may be one, appears to lie with the signs posted throughout
Newham telling criminals that cameras are watching and that the police
know who they are, where they live, and what crimes they have committed.
Of course, "it’s not true," as the Newham monitoring chief admitted to
Rosen.
Newham is simply a part of Great Britain’s growing spy camera
network, which arose as a response to terrorist bombings in London’s
financial district in the early 1990s. Britain now has some 1.5 million
government cameras in place. As the cameras were first being set up, the
government, then under the control of the Tories, insisted that "if you
have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear." Now under control of
the Labour Party, the government is spending $115 million for still more
spy cameras.
Despite ubiquitous cameras, however, violent and property crime in
England is soaring. A three-year government study by the Scottish Center
for Criminology recently concluded there is no evidence to suggest that
Britain’s spy cameras have reduced serious crime overall. Another study,
this one by the National Association for the Care and Resettlement of
Offenders, looked at 14 British cities and found that the cameras had
little effect in reducing crime. The study suggested that improving
street lighting would be a more cost-effective crime prevention method.
This much can be said in favor of the cameras: In some cases, they
have been used to convict speeders, other traffic law offenders, and
litterbugs. Yet it’s one thing to give up your privacy to catch Irish
Republican Army terrorists. It’s another thing to surrender privacy so
the police can catch people who litter.
Of course, just because FRT doesn’t work very well today doesn’t mean
it will never work. FRT companies are receiving massive amounts of
corporate welfare. According to a March General Accounting Office (GAO)
report, as of June 2001 the Departments of Justice and Defense had given
about $21.3 million and $24.7 million, respectively, to the research and
development of FRT. All this research will probably result in
much-improved products eventually.
What then? Philip Agre, an associate professor in the Information
Studies Department of the University of California at Los Angeles,
argues that as FRT gets better the potential for abuse will rise
commensurately. "As the underlying information and communications
technologies (digital cameras, image databases, processing power and
data communications) become radically cheaper (and more powerful)," he
writes on his Web site, "new facial image databases will not be hard to
construct, with or without the consent of the people whose faces are
captured."
Once those databases exist, their uses will doubtless expand,
consistent with typical bureaucratic mission creep. Look, for example,
at the 2001 Colorado law allowing the Division of Motor Vehicles (DMV)
to use biometric technology to map applicants’ faces for driver’s
licenses. The stated intent was to stop the same person from obtaining
multiple licenses. But the law’s language was much broader, allowing
access to the DMV database to "aid a federal, state or local government
agency in carrying out such agency’s official function" -- in other
words, for any government purpose whatsoever. Illinois and West Virginia
also have turned their driver’s license bureaus into mandatory faceprint
collection points.
In March, after national criticism, the Colorado legislature refined
the face mapping scheme, declaring that before a government agency can
tap into the image database, it must have "a reasonable suspicion that a
crime has been committed or will be committed and a reasonable suspicion
that the image requested is either the perpetrator of such a crime or
the victim of such a crime." Like Colorado, states can establish
guidelines that ostensibly limit government use of your faceprint. But
once your faceprint is in a state database, the federal government has
legal authority to use it for any purpose at all. By federal statute,
every state driver’s license record is available to every federal
agency, "including any court or law enforcement agency, in carrying out
its functions." Because of the Supremacy Clause of the U.S.
Constitution, a state government cannot limit the uses to which federal
agencies put these state-gathered faceprints.
Even before 9/11, many local law enforcement agencies considered
political surveillance to be one of their official functions. For
example, last spring it came to light that the Denver Police
Intelligence Unit has for years kept surveillance files on government
protesters, including about 3,000 individuals and 200 organizations.
Among those targeted for police spying were the American Friends Service
Committee (a Quaker group), Amnesty International, and Copwatch (a group
that protests police brutality). The surveillance program was supposedly
scaled back (though not eliminated), but only after secret documents
were brought to public attention by the Colorado Civil Liberties Union.
Telling Colorado cops that they must have "reasonable suspicion"
before accessing the faceprint database sounds good, but law enforcement
will easily find ways around such restrictions. The Denver police
surveillance guidelines have always required criminal suspicion, so the
police simply listed as extremists the groups they wanted to spy on.
Indeed, the main constraint on the Denver Police Department’s
political spying program was manpower. There are only so many people a
police unit can spy on at once. But with FRT, political surveillance may
one day escape such limits. Consider a mobile monitoring unit equipped
with a face scanning camera, face recognition software, and the state’s
driver’s license faceprint database. It would be a simple matter to
compile a list of everyone who attends a rally to protest police
brutality, to denounce drug laws, or to oppose U.S. foreign policy.
Nor will the technology necessarily be confined to use at political
protests. In July 2001, the conservative U.S. House Majority Leader Dick
Armey (R-Texas) joined with the ACLU to warn: "Used in conjunction with
facial recognition software...the Colorado database could allow the
public movements of every citizen in the state to be identified,
tracked, recorded and stored."
Sound far-fetched? On September 20, 2001, Joseph Atick, CEO of
Visionics, told a Department of Transportation airport security
committee that FaceIt, in conjunction with security cameras, could be
linked via the Internet to a federal monitoring station and alert
officials to a match within seconds. He added that virtually any camera,
anywhere, could be linked to the system, as could a "wide network of
databases."
Opponents of FRT should not count on much help from the courts.
Standard legal doctrine holds that there is little or no expectation of
privacy in public. There is nothing unconstitutional, for example, about
a police officer’s sitting on a bench at a shopping mall and making
notes about the people who pass by. FRT advocates can argue that massive
surveillance is simply like having 10 -- or 100 -- police officers in
the mall, and that the quantitative difference is of no constitutional
significance.
Yet even if we acknowledge that electronic government eyes are no
different than a cop on every corner, do we really want that? One of the
conclusions of Jeffrey Rosen’s New York Times Magazine piece on
spy cameras in Great Britain was that the cameras are designed not to
produce arrests but to make people feel they are being watched all the
time. "The people behind [the cameras] are zooming in on unconventional
behavior in public that has nothing to do with terrorism," Rosen wrote.
"And rather than thwarting serious crime, the cameras are being used to
enforce social conformity in ways that Americans may prefer to avoid."
There is some reason for hope, however. In the past, U.S. courts have
acknowledged that technological change can make a constitutional
difference. Under 19th-century constitutional doctrine, there was no
need for the police to get a warrant before eavesdropping. If a
policeman stood on public property and could hear a conversation going
on inside a house, he did not need a search warrant. That doctrine made
sense in the 1800s; if you talk so loudly that people on the sidewalk
can hear you, you don’t have a legitimate expectation of privacy for
your words.
But in the 1967 case Katz v. United States, the Supreme Court
considered the issue raised by police officers who, without trespassing
on private property, used parabolic microphones or wiretaps to listen in
on conversations. Justice Hugo Black said this kind of surveillance was
permissible because the new technology was simply an updated version of
eavesdropping. The majority of the Court, however, ruled that wiretaps
and other electronic surveillance should be permitted only if the police
obtained a search warrant. The intrusiveness of electronic surveillance,
its great potential for abuse, and its infringement on traditional
expectations of privacy all distinguished it from old-fashioned
eavesdropping.
Similarly, widespread face scanning could eventually make it possible
for the government to track the movement of most citizens most of the
time. It would expand the government’s tracking capability by several
orders of magnitude -- as great an increase as the one from human ears
to parabolic microphones.
Like the Fourth Amendment itself, Katz relies on a subjective
judgment of reasonableness. Thus, there is no guarantee that Katz
would stand as a barrier to omnipresent British-style face scanning; nor
would Katz necessarily forbid placing information about every
person’s movements in a permanent government database.
Ultimately, the future of face scanning will depend on the political
process. There is almost no chance that the American public or their
elected officials would vote in favor of tracking everyone all the time.
Yet face scanning is typically introduced and then expanded by
administrative fiat, without specific legislative permission.
So there is a strong possibility that future Americans will be
surprised to learn from history books that in the first centuries of
American independence citizens took for granted that the government did
not and could not monitor all of their movements and activities in
public places.
David Kopel is research director and Michael Krause is a senior
fellow at the Independence Institute.