Catch the Pidgeon

Even before the fundraising sector met its Data Protection nemesis in December, with two charities cruelly hung out on the rack, forbidden ever to raise funds again (CORRECTION: given two of the smallest fines in Data Protection history and not forbidden from doing anything), various blogs, and tweets showed that anguished tin-rattlers were confused about what they were accused of.

A classic of the genre was published just over a week ago by Third Sector, penned by Stephen Pidgeon, a “consultant and teacher” (one assumes modesty prevented the publication from mentioning that until recently he chaired the Institute of Fundraising’s Standards Committee, responsible for the until-recently legally incorrect Code of Fundraising Practice). Pidgeon made a series of assertions in his article, and the most important of them is wrong.

Pidgeon describes profiling as a serendipitous activity – a fundraiser innocently planning some door-drops (not a hint of pestering spam in this charming scenario, nor any resort to a data-mining outfit like Prospecting for Gold) happens to notice that a donor has sold a business, and so decides to add his details to an existing campaign. The scheme is ruined by the ICO who says: “That’s not allowed – it’s against the Data Protection Act without express permission“. As Pidgeon points out, the DPA is much vaguer than that. If the Commissioner had indeed said this, it would be nonsense. The problem is, they didn’t.

Both charity notices set out the ICO’s position on charity profiling – it cannot be secret. The same is true for data sharing and appending new data to records that the subject didn’t provide. Neither notice finds profiling without consent to be a breach. Admittedly, of the Data Protection only offers one other option to justify profiling in these circumstances (legitimate interests), but either Pidgeon doesn’t know what the notice says, or he is deliberately misleading his audience. The word ‘permission’ does not appear in either notice, and the word ‘consent’ isn’t mentioned either.

Pidgeon also asserts that wealth profiling is not confined to charities:

This issue is not confined to charities. Yet, in all the 100-plus ICO adjudications in 2016, I could not find a single commercial firm censured for wealth screening.

To be pedantic, they’re not unenforceable ‘adjudications’, they’re formal legal notices, and if you add up all of the DP and PECR monetary penalty and enforcement notices in 2016, you don’t get to 100. He might be including the undertakings, which could be compared to the blancmange adjudications that charities have grown used to, but they’re irrelevant in a conversation about enforcement. The more important point is that like others, including the fundraising apologist academic Ian McQuillin and the researcher Matt Ide, Pidgeon claims that everyone does wealth screening but only the charities are getting punished for it. The Daily Mail hasn’t exposed Marks and Spencers or Greggs for wealth screening – possibly because they’re good at keeping it secret, but a more likely explanation is that they don’t do it. Until someone in the charity sector shows evidence of another organisation doing secret profiling, it’s just a distraction from the fact that – as Pidgeon claims – most of the charity sector have been doing it unlawfully for years.

Many in the sector also seem persuaded that the ICO action is a weird anti-charity vendetta. MacQuillin’s contributions to the Critical Fundraising Blog pondered the mystifying question of why the data protection regulator has taken action when household name organisations have been exposed for breaching data protection. The ICO takes action for three reasons – an organisation reports itself for something, ICO gets lots of complaints about something, or something makes a big splash in the press. There were thousands of complaints about charity fundraising, but all went to the toothless Fundraising Standards Board, who hardly ever passed them on to ICO. So it was the Daily Mail’s headlines that did the trick – the heartbreaking story of Olive Cooke but more importantly for the ICO’s purposes, the flamboyantly unlawful way in which charities treated Samuel Rae, trading his data relentlessly with anyone who wanted it.

In pursuing his false claim about consent, Pidgeon derisively summarised what charities might have to say to prospective donors: “We want to find out how rich you are; tick here to agree”! As a first draft, this has some merit, but a charity involved in wealth screening should also add ‘We want to know whether you are worth more alive or dead‘. The consent claim is a red herring, but perhaps unwittingly, Pidgeon has hit on the real problem for fundraisers: daylight. The foundation of Data Protection is fairness, and the only way to achieve it, regardless of whether consent is part of the mix, is to tell the subject the purposes for which their data will be used. Stretching the law as far as they can, the ICO has invented the concept of ‘reasonable expectations’. Reasonable expectations doesn’t appear in the Data Protection Act, but the ICO’s idea is that if you are only doing something that the person would expect, you don’t have to spell it out. One might take issue with this because it’s not in the Act, but it’s a sensible idea. The ICO’s emphasis has always been on being transparent over unexpected or objectionable processing.

Tesco’s Clubcard scheme is a useful example. Clubcard is a loyalty scheme, clearly based on profiling. The user knows that when they swipe their card, their purchases are analysed so that tailored offers and vouchers can be provided. Needless to say, Tesco also use the data for their sales and marketing strategy. If you look at the T&Cs for the Clubcard scheme, you will not find references to data sharing with third parties for wealth screening. They don’t need to – they can analyse your purchases instead. The user knows that profiling is inherent to the scheme, and they are not required to participate when shopping at Tesco. I have a Clubcard because I understand the system and I don’t believe that Tesco flogs my data. The profiling is the basis on which the whole thing operates. I have a choice about whether to shop at Tesco, and separately, whether to have a Clubcard when I do.

On the other hand, the RSPCA profiled seven million donors after they donated; presumably the lion’s share of all people who donated to the charity. The RSPCA did not tell people that this was the purpose for which their data will be used, and nobody outside the charity sector was aware of what was happening. Unlike Clubcard, donors could not participate without being screened and analysed by the charity. I have used the wealth-screening example on many of my training courses. The reaction is always surprise, and often revulsion.  Nobody ever leaps to the charity’s defence because secret profiling is a dodgy way to do business.

Pidgeon’s squeamishness about describing the process – the daft example of the story in the newspaper, his emphasis on data being gathered from the public domain – suggests that fundraisers are more ambivalent about their methods than they might like to admit. The existence of five facts in five separate publicly accessible places is different to the combination of those facts in one place, gathered with the intention of tailored marketing. A profile is greater than the sum of its parts, and people should be told that it exists. Pidgeon isn’t alone in his approach – Chris Carnie, the founder of ‘prospect research’ company Factary erroneously characterised myself and others as saying that using public domain data is “an intrusion into an individual’s privacy. That searching for a named individual in Companies House fundamentally affects the rights of that person“. All I said was that such research should be transparent, but this isn’t news that Carnie and his colleagues find palatable. Ide’s company goes as far as to assess the ‘ethical credentials‘ of a donor, which sounds a world away from noticing a story in a paper.

The Daily Mail is a revolting newspaper – the worst combination of small-minded, petty conservatism and curtain-twitching prurience. It is a matter of ongoing annoyance to me that the Mail is one of the very few national news outlets that covers Data Protection issues with any enthusiasm. I really wish the Guardian or the Times had exposed the ghastly exploitation of vulnerable people like Samuel Rae, or their hunger for information about possible donors. I wish Dispatches’ fine work on the shameful state of some fundraising call centres had got more attention. Nevertheless, none of this is the Mail’s fault, and fundraisers’ relentless blame-shifting needs to be called out for the cant that it is. Everyone knows whose fault this is.

The charity and fundraising sector isn’t in a mess over data protection because of the Daily Mail, and it isn’t there because of the Information Commissioner. This problem is the fault of some fundraisers and their agents not obeying the law, and trustees who didn’t ask them enough questions. MacQuillin claims that almost everything that has happened to the fundraising sector over the past two years is because of ‘fake news‘; Olive Cooke’s death wasn’t, her family says, the result of the spam tsunami that charities subjected her to. For one thing, this claim disgracefully ignores Samuel Rae, whose story would have caused the same interest even if it wasn’t the sequel to Olive Cooke. Moreover, it is itself fake news. If some of Pidgeon and MacQuillin’s compadres had done their job with a greater interest in the law, they wouldn’t be here now. This is the second or third time I have written this blog. With 11 more possible fines, and fundraisers still in denial about what they have done, I’ll probably have to write it again before long.

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