My favourite part of the Information Commissioner’s website is the blog, where a succession of ICO notables talk about how marvellous their particular corner of the business is. The enterprise appears to be modelled on the Opinion section of The Onion, and I look forward to each new instalment with childlike enthusiasm. I’m really hoping they let the Internal Compliance people do one about people who make subject access requests in green ink. They have my permission to publish the mugshot from my driving license.

In the meantime, the one entitled ‘Education key to cookie law success’ by Dave Evans is certainly worth a read. Evans opens his post with the startling claim that “One area where I’ve seen most progress is cookie guidance”, a statement that makes sense only if he’s talking about the document produced by the International Chamber of Commerce, but the rest of the blog is definitely about the apparently marvellous work the ICO has been doing on cookies. I’ve been running – with a growing sense of futility – online courses on the cookie law for more than a year, and in the context of the ICO, “success” and “cookies” are phrases that repel each other like the opposing poles of a magnet. Cookies affect the private sector at least as much as the public sector, and often, much more so. This perhaps explains why the ICO has found it so challenging. Consider some of the landmarks:

  • The ICO published guidance called ‘Changes to the rules on using cookies and similar technologies for storing information’ on 9th May 2011 that stated: “The new legislation comes into force on 26 May 2011. You need to take steps now to prepare and ensure you are ready to comply.” The Commissioner himself ‘urged’ website owners to get to work in an associated press release:
  • Two weeks later, the day before the regulations came into force, the ICO suddenly decided not to enforce this same law for a year.
  • Even though the Commissioner’s slightly patronising school-themed ‘Half-Term Report’ of December 2011 included the comment that “if you are struggling with this part of the rule you are seriously lagging behind”, six months later, Dave Evans was reported by The Register to have said “We don’t expect all organisations not compliant on the 27th to have some evidence of taking action to be compliant.”.
  • On 13th December 2011, the ICO stated that consent – the vital disputed issue at the centre of all the cookie confusion – “must involve some form of communication where an individual knowingly indicates their acceptance”. They deliberately highlighted this quote out on their website. Two days before the ICO ended its self-imposed cookie enforcement abstinence in May 2012, they issued guidance that stated, “while explicit consent might allow for regulatory certainty and might be the most appropriate way to comply in some circumstances this does not mean that implied consent cannot be compliant”.

In other words, anything to avoid going after the private sector. This unwillingness to take action was underlined by an interview Evans gave to a website  in April in which he said that the ICO might not to enforce against someone breaching the cookie law, purely because the website might lose money: “if a company’s revenue would drop if it went for a strict opt-in, then we could look at different ways of educating users and gaining consent”. Every cookie case has already been pre-judged as not meeting the threshold for a civil monetary penalty.

Even though the ICO’s current position seems to be ‘whatever it is you’re doing about cookies is fine’, some in the web industry are so frustrated they have taken to goading the Commissioner to take action against them . In response to this criticism, the ICO’s position probably reveals what lies behind the problem. A spokesman said: “It’s worth noting that this website criticises those regulations, but the ICO is responsible only for regulating those who must comply with the law, and not for how it was drafted

The ICO’s response raises the question of why the change happened in the first place. The argument about whether consent needs to be active or can be inferred from some specific action is a bit sterile – the intention of the change was clearly to shift the onus from users opting-out to websites getting evidence of users’ preferences. In the old version of the Regulations, users of the internet were to be given “the opportunity to refuse the storage of or access to” a cookie; in the new version, users must have “given his or her consent”. Few of the EU’s citizens spend fretful nights over the lurking menace of cookies on their computers, even those who are concerned over their privacy. Subtly dropped onto your machine by unseen electronic tentacles, the cookie is more insidious than the noisy spam text, but it’s equally easy to get rid of. Most web browsers include an option to reject them outright or purge them at the click of a mouse. So why make the change?

My answer to this question is simple, and it goes some way to explaining the ICO’s clod-hopping reluctance to engage with the cookie changes. The cookie changes are their fault. Though the story is a familiar one to many, I’m surprised that it hasn’t been revisited more often in recent months. Some years ago, a company called Phorm started to hit the headlines. The Phorm product (WebWise) worked like this: ISPs provide data to Phorm about the browsing habits of their customers using a cookie. Websites access the cookie, and knowing what sites had been browsed, allows them to display just random adverts, but ones tailored to the interests indicated by the recent browsing. Everyone makes money (except the user whose web browsing has been monetised).

Less ambitious / troubling versions of this idea are alive and well on the internet right now, but the idea of the ISP tracking your every move and selling the results to others didn’t go down very well with Joe Punter. The alleged KGB past of the company’s saturnine CEO Kent Ertugrul probably didn’t help public perception much, but what really lit a fire under Phorm was the revelation that the system had been tested by BT and none of the customers involved knew about it. I should probably put the Phorm / BT case that what they did wasn’t a breach of anything, that no personal data was gathered etc. etc. But their interpretation doesn’t convince me and more importantly, there was no reason to do the trial in secret. BT deserves opprobrium on that point alone. As the fury over the secret trial and the implications of the product itself increased, customers on all sides melted away, and Phorm pulled out of Europe altogether.

The ICO took no action against either Phorm or BT for the secret trial, and a perfect way to understand their approach is to track down a document entitled “Phorm: The ICO View”, published in April 2008, but no longer on their website (thanks, WhatDoTheyKnow for reminding me of it, and to @blepharon for this link). “Whether or not the deployment of the Phorm products raise matters of concern to the Commissioner will depend on the extent to which the assurances Phorm has provided so far are true. The Commissioner has no reason to doubt the information provided by Phorm but some technical experts have publicly expressed concerns.”. The instinct when dealing with big organisations, ‘stakeholders’ or the private sector is believe what you’re told and accommodate and ameliorate rather than act. It’s hard to believe a council or NHS trust being given the same generous benefit of the doubt.

Look at Google. When dealing with the allegation that Google had secretly slurped Wi-Fi data from thousands of UK citizens, former Assistant Commissioner Phil Jones and Dave Evans (remember him?) met with Google, resulting in a decision to delete all the inconvenient and potentially incriminating data, with no further questions. Google was a valued stakeholder needing only a friendly meeting, rather than a data controller that might have breached the law. Evans’ blog states: “In my experience of working as the ICO’s industry strategic liaison manager, the vast majority of businesses want to operate within the law”. But Evans’ experience ought to show that the Streetview data turned out to be more personal than previously advertised, resulting in the ICO having to ask Google to sign an undertaking. Their press release at the time said that Google had been ‘instructed’ to sign, but the whole point of an undertaking is that it is voluntary. Only now that this undertaking has apparently been breached has Google Streetview finally been passed to the Head of Enforcement. Altogether, it’s not quite a ringing endorsement of strategic liaising.

The softly-softly approach is the hallmark of Phorm: believe what you’re told, take no action against the big player. To take action on the secret trial would have been to take on BT, a challenge for which the ICO showed no appetite. As a consequence, as well as infraction proceedings against the UK, I suspect the ICO decision that Phorm use of cookies did not breach privacy, data protection or surveillance law in the UK made a change EU cookie law seem much more necessary. Monitoring and exploitation of web-browsing data is precisely the kind of thing that makes a shift in the balance necessary – had the ICO attempted to argue that the legal status quo did have something to say about Phorm, I doubt we’d be where we are now.

To misquote The Dark Knight, I believe in Chris Graham, the current commissioner. He clearly has more guts than his predecessor, he sorted out the shameful FOI backlog, he has taken more enforcement action than any of the three previous Wilmslow incumbents put together, and his public persona is polite but increasingly pugnacious, precisely the kind of attitude to persuade recalcitrant organisations to take Data Protection seriously. But the cookie debacle is evidence of the Old ICO alive and well: vague, deferential, ineffectual, and embarrassing. In other words, nobody’s definition of success.

NB: The tradition in writing about cookies is to use one of a limited number of obvious cookies puns or references in the title. I have chosen the most obscure I can think of, and if you recognise it, you should be as ashamed of yourself as I am.