What is “Biosurveillance”? The COVID-19 Measures Getting Under Our Skin
Transparency is often in short supply, the risk of “mission creep” is high, and some measures are, quite simply, irreversible.
The current pandemic has shown itself to be a breeding ground for mass surveillance. States and companies around the world now have ample justification for collecting our most intimate personal data: our body temperature, our facial expressions, our movements, even our pulse and breathing.
Given the dangers posed by coronavirus, measures from tracking apps to temperature-checking drones may seem reasonable. But many are being hurried in with little legal scrutiny, and fly in the face of our most fundamental rights.
Transparency is often in short supply, the risk of “mission creep” is high, and some measures are, quite simply, irreversible.
I n April, tech giant Amazon installed thermal cameras in its warehouses in the UK and US to scan its workers for fevers.
In the wake of coronavirus, many companies now carry out daily temperature checks on their employees. Monitoring people’s health has become par for the course during this pandemic, with thermal imaging just one of many technologies being deployed for this purpose.
Reports from Amazon employees say that socially distancing in these warehouses isn’t possible. These people are just some of many low-wage workers around the world who have ended up as particular targets of these new and potentially troubling measures.
As well as that, the World Health Organisation (WHO) has warned that such temperature screening isn’t necessarily effective: it won’t work for people not displaying symptoms, and could also yield false positives.
The COVID-19 pandemic is clearly not just a public health crisis. It has triggered an upheaval in almost every sphere of our lives. And, as experts around the world have warned with growing urgency, the repercussions for our privacy, freedom and other human rights have been immense — and, in many cases, deeply alarming.
Of course, every country and region is facing a unique set of challenges. But familiar patterns are recurring across the globe. One of the common threads is the rise of so-called “biosurveillance”.
This kind of surveillance homes in on our health data and on other biometrics: facial features, fingerprints, temperature, pulse. Biometrics — which already have a chequered human rights record — were in use long before the pandemic, but now we are seeing their deployment on a new scale, in new contexts.
“COVID developments are accelerating the deployment of biometric technology. That is a fact,” says Dr Ilia Siatitsa, legal officer at Privacy International.
“COVID developments are accelerating the deployment of biometric technology. That is a fact.”
The ability to scan our bodies to deduce information and track us is no longer the stuff of science fiction. It has quickly been integrated into everyday life, assisted by emerging technologies with the potential to gravely compromise our digital rights.
Fear of new and rapidly evolving technology is age-old, but people have good reason to be concerned about its use during this crisis. In many cases, new technological solutions are being hurried in so fast and with such little transparency that it is impossible to subject it to effective legal oversight.
“It’s not the technology or any type of collection of data that is evil,” says Siatitsa. “It’s the way it’s being done.”
India’s contact-tracing app, Aarogya Setu, has reportedly been downloaded over 100 million times. The app uses bluetooth and location services to track whether you’ve been close to somebody with COVID-19, while also collecting a smorgasbord of other personal information about you: your contacts, your travel history, whether or not you smoke.
The app is now mandatory for many workers (including, unsurprisingly, low-wage service workers such as food deliverers). There have also been several reports of people being denied access to medicines without the app, making it de facto mandatory for further swathes of the population.
Tracing apps are a global phenomenon, from Australia to Switzerland to Guatemala. Pakistan has even repurposed an anti-terrorism system in order to trace the virus.
Surveillance has been around for a long time. In the 1940s, George Orwell wrote 1984 off the back of rising totalitarianism and government repression. But despite relentless fear mongering about a Big Brother-esque society, the potential for mass surveillance has only exploded since then. CCTV cameras wallpaper our streets, police routinely deploy facial recognition technology, and smartphones have become the new normal.
CCTV cameras wallpaper our streets, police routinely deploy facial recognition technology, and smartphones have become the new normal
The issue of mass surveillance and data collection has become so overwhelming that people often have little choice but to accept it. When these technologies become inextricable from everyday life, it’s unfair to expect individuals to simply opt out. As Siatitsa notes, “asking people to make that choice… it’s an impossible choice to make”.
“It is on our governments to make sure they are choosing rational solutions, that we can trust them,” she says.
Unfortunately, this isn’t always the case. In these extraordinary times, surveillance has been stepped up yet again — and with the global pandemic as a new powerful justification.
I n Liechtenstein, one of Europe’s smallest countries, 5% of the population now wears electronic bracelets that monitor skin temperature, breathing, pulse, and other biometrics.
While the scheme is still in its trial phase, the country hopes to roll out these bracelets to the entire population by the autumn.
Not so long ago, the prospect of whole populations donning a bracelet that tracks their most sensitive personal information was confined to an eerie episode of Black Mirror.
Some have framed it in this way: while before the pandemic, our devices were tracking us externally, new biosurveillance measures strive to get inside our bodies.
While before the pandemic, our devices were tracking us externally, new biosurveillance measures strive to get inside our bodies
“It is highly sensitive information, and it is by definition inseparably linked to a particular person and that person’s life,” says Siatitsa. “Whether we are talking about the fingerprint or their face, which you can simply not replace … this is all information that can always be traced back to a specific person.”
“To me, facial recognition and biometrics very much touches on the full suite of things we might look at under digital rights,” says Ella Jakubowska of EDRi (European Digital Rights). “It impacts on freedoms of expression, assembly, information, due process… really, everything.”
Naturally, there are many laws and regulations in place to protect people from the negative consequences of these new measures. By right, these should ensure that technology is not abused or enlisted for nefarious purposes. But amid the pandemic, governments have had means at their disposal to bypass the usual safeguards.
The first and most common of these is invoking a state of emergency.
“States can derogate officially from the human rights obligations when there is a state of emergency,” Siatitsa explains.
This, of course, may be justified in many cases. But it shouldn’t simply mean a free-for-all when it comes to human rights violations.
“Alleging that there is a crisis is an old trick.”
There are countless historical precedents of governments sneaking in questionable measures under the guise of an emergency, and we’re seeing this strategy being rolled out again in the current era. In March, for example, Hungary attracted international condemnation for granting prime minister Viktor Orban the power to rule by decree for an unlimited period of time.
“Alleging that there is a crisis is an old trick,” says Siatitsa.
It’s easy to imagine how governments and other powerful global actors might tap into the panic and fear that has been generated as a result of COVID-19. As prominent environmentalist Naomi Klein has written, there is an emerging “shock doctrine” — a narrative peddled by states to exploit the crisis for their own interests.
That’s why, as Jakubowska notes, “in times of crisis, we need fundamental rights more than ever.”
“If you roll over and say, well, we’re in a time of emergency, let’s give up those rights, it’s completely paradoxical.”
“If you roll over and say, well, we’re in a time of emergency, let’s give up those rights, it’s completely paradoxical”
“[It is] when people are most vulnerable and some of our rights are being derogated from, that we most need to make sure that things are being done with due process, and with respect for the rule of law, and in ways that are accountable,” says Jakubowska.
One popular rhetorical strategy demands self-sacrifice from the population. “This seems to really be the feeling amongst a lot of people: if they sacrifice themselves they can help with the fight against coronavirus,” says Jakubowska. “I think that appeals to people who are altruistic. It also appeals to people who are a bit egotistical. It’s a very compelling narrative.”
Critical to this, and to many equally dangerous narratives throughout history, is the idea that privacy and safety are mutually exclusive: that for some reason, we can’t have both. But as Jakubowska points out, we don’t need to succumb to the “false dichotomy of health versus privacy”.
“If you just give up your privacy, that’s not going to solve the pandemic,” she says. “You look at GDPR and it’s got a clause for public health. And how to deal with data for public health emergencies. So it’s actually built into the data protection laws.”
One of the most pressing fears of many human rights experts is that many of these dubious measures won’t, or simply can’t, be undone once this pandemic is over.
As it stands, there has been a far-reaching lack of transparency surrounding many of these new powers. Often it’s not clear what powers are being attributed to which authority, making it impossible to hold these organisations accountable in future. And, in many cases where data collection is involved, we don’t know who exactly has access to the data or how secure it is.
“Unlike a password, biometrics cannot be changed,” says Siatitsa. “As a result, any unauthorised access, it’s not easily rectifiable, if at all.”
“Unlike a password, biometrics cannot be changed,” says Siatitsa. “As a result, any unauthorised access, it’s not easily rectifiable, if at all.”
The collaboration between states and private actors during the pandemic has also muddied the waters in terms of accountability and transparency.
In Israel, for example, NSO Group — a tech company currently being sued by Facebook for allegedly hacking WhatsApp — has pitched its tracking software to countries around the world, with the promise of giving them better grip on the virus.
Then there’s the problem of “mission creep”: a measure being introduced for one thing, and later being used for something else entirely.
“We’ve seen it time and again,” says Siatitsa. “A good example was, for instance, Eurodac.” In the early 2000s, a database called Eurodac was set up to identify asylum seekers in Europe, including taking their fingerprints. “But in 2009,” Siatitsa explains, “law enforcement was given access to it.”
The COVID-19 pandemic presents one of the most sweeping threats to our digital rights that we’ve ever seen. Against a backdrop of panic and powerful state rhetoric, it’s more critical than ever that we remain vigilant and, where appropriate, take legal action.
“I think our job would be even more important once the crisis calms down,” says Siatitsa. “We need to look to the future that the world builds after this pandemic ends.”
The Digital Freedom Fund supports partners in Europe to advance digital rights through strategic litigation. Read more here.
