Analyse This

With no small amount of fanfare, the Information Commissioner Elizabeth Denham recently announced a “formal” investigation into the use of data analytics for political purposes. The use of targeted ads in political campaigns – especially those where the Right triumphed – has been much in the headlines, and the ICO clearly feels the need to react. Denham blogged on her website: “this investigation is a high priority for my office in our work to uphold the rights of individuals and ensure that political campaigners and companies providing services to political parties operate within UK law.”. The investigation was greeted with enthusiasm – the journalist Carole Cadwalladr who has made a lot of the running over analytics in the Observer was supportive and the Data Protection activist Paul-Olivier Dehaye hailed it as ‘very important’.

Saying that Facebook is probably abusing privacy rights (and acting as a conduit for the abuse of privacy rights) is a bit like saying that rain is wet. Some of Cadwalladr’s reports have drawn fascinating (if hotly disputed) links between various right-wing vampires like Nigel Farage, Dominic Cummings and Steve Bannon, and draw interesting (and hotly disputed) links between various Brexit campaigns and the tech firm Cambridge Analytica. Other of her stories are lame; a recent article complained that people Cadwalladr doesn’t approve of are outbidding people she does approve of when buying Facebook ads, which isn’t really news.

Worse than that, another article enthusiastically repeated Stephen Kinnock MP’s calls for an investigation into Tory data use, ignoring the fact that on the same day, Labour was hoovering up emails on its website without a privacy policy (which, like the marketing emails they will inevitably send) is a breach of Data Protection. The article makes the false claim that it is illegal to use data about political opinions without consent. Several people (including the chair of the National Association of Data Protection Officers) pointed this out to Cadwalladr, but the article is uncorrected at the time of writing. If you want to write about political parties and campaigns abusing data protection and privacy and you only acknowledge the dodgy things that one side gets up to, your allegations should not be taken too seriously. Politics is a swamp, and everyone is covered in slime. Given Cadwalladr’s shaky understanding of Data Protection law, it’s not hard to believe that her interest in the topic is mainly motivated by politics, and the ICO needs to be careful not to be sucked in.

It’s odd that allegations made to the ICO about data misuse by Owen Smith and Jeremy Corbyn, or candidates for the UNITE leadership have come to nothing, and yet here we have a formal investigation announced with great flourish into an issue that is largely perceived as affecting the right. I’m left-wing myself, but if Denham is going to take action over the political use of personal data, I expect her to be scrupulously even-handed.

However, I doubt very much whether action on this issue will ever happen. Just after the announcement, I made an FOI request to the Commissioner’s office about the nature of the investigation – how many people were involved and where from, what powers the ICO was using to conduct the investigation, and who the most senior person involved was. What I was trying to find out was simple – is this an investigation likely to lead to guidance or enforcement?

Here is what my FOI revealed (questions in bold, ICO answers below)

1) Under what specific powers is the investigation being carried out?

Initial intelligence gathering would fall under the general duties of the Commissioner to promote good practice (section 51) of the DPA. This may lead to use of investigatory powers and enforcement where necessary, under the provisions set out in Part V of the DPA, as well as the CMP powers at section 55A.  The Commissioner also has powers of entry and inspection under schedule 9 of the DPA.

2) How many members of staff are involved in the investigation?

It’s difficult to give an exact number, the ‘group’ involved will need to be established and documented in terms of reference which will be done shortly. At this stage, from the information we hold, we can say that 16 member of staff have been involved and another 4 members of staff are also expected to be involved as the investigation progresses.

3, 4 and 5-
 
What are the job titles of the staff involved?
What is the name of the most senior person involved in the investigation?
Which department and team do these staff belong to?

Senior Policy Officer – Private Sector Engagement
Group Manager – Private Sector Engagement
Policy Officer – Private Sector Engagement
Lead Communications Officer – Communication Planning
Senior Policy Officer – Public Policy and Parliament
Intelligence and Research Officer – Intelligence Team
Team Manager (Intelligence) – Intelligence Team
Lead Intelligence and research Officer – Intelligence Team
Team Manager – Enforcement (PECR) – Investigations
Group Manager (Public Policy & Parliament) – Public Policy and Parliament
Senior Policy Officer (Public Policy & Parliament) – Public Policy and Parliament
Team Manager (Enforcement Team 2) – Enforcement
Team Manager – Communications – Communications Planning
Head of Corporate Affairs – Communications Planning
Group Manager – Public Sector Engagement – Public Sector Engagement

The most senior person is Steve Wood – Head of International Strategy & Intelligence – International & Intelligence Management

*************************************************************************************

What does this tell us?

The main contributors are Engagement (which is presumably the successor to the old Strategic Liaison department whose chief role was holding hands with stakeholders), and policy (whose main contribution to the debate on big data is this endless and almost unreadable discussion paper). The most senior person involved is Steve Wood, who has an academic background. Of the 16 involved, just two are from Enforcement, outnumbered even by the comms staff. Apologists for Wilmslow will leap on that bit that says “This may lead to use of investigatory powers and enforcement where necessary“, but my response to that is an armpit fart. The ICO is starting from the perspective of promoting good practice run by an academic, which is just about the silliest response to this issue that I can think of.

Some areas that the ICO regulates are prime candidates for guidance. The public sector, charities and regulated industries are likely to be influenced by what the ICO says. Other areas – list broking and compensation claims spring to mind – are immune to policy and guidance, but politics is the best example. Politics is about power – if a party, campaign or individual can take power while breaching DP law, they will. It isn’t that they don’t understand the law, it is that they don’t care. No political party or campaign will be influenced by ICO guidance, and to pretend otherwise is childish. All major political parties (Labour, LibDems, SNP, Tory) have received a PECR Enforcement Notice over automated calls, and yet they flout PECR all the time with emails and yet more calls, as anyone who heard from David Lammy knows only too well. Even when the ICO fined Leave.EU during the referendum, the campaign’s reaction (“Whatever”) could not have been more derisive because they could afford to pay the fine. Either the ICO comes into politics using its powers to the maximum possible extent against everyone (£500,000 penalties, or more useful, enforcement notices that are backed up by prosecution), or they should leave the field.

We already know that the outcome of this investigation will be revealed long after the election is over, when anything that the Commissioner says or does will have no effect on the real world. On the evidence of my FOI, I predict there will be no fines, no enforcement notices, no action. There will be a long, thorough and thoughtful report that nobody in politics will pay attention to, and only people like me will read. The first task of the Supervisory Authority under GDPR is to ‘monitor and enforce’. Long ago, when I worked there, the joke went around the ICO that senior officers operated under the mantra ‘thinking is doing’, as an excuse to avoid taking any action. I don’t care if no senior officer ever actually said this – on big strategic issues, the ICO has always laboured under this approach. Denham’s first big splash was to follow through on charity enforcement when the easy choice was to back down. She deserves praise for that decision. However, If there is an international right-wing conspiracy to hijack democracy across the world, I don’t think a thought symposium is going to save us.

Another fine mess

For those working in Data Protection, there are many interesting things to note about the forthcoming General Data Protection Regulation. There is the clarification of consent, which may send tawdry marketers into a spin. There is the tightening of the rules over criminal records. There is the helpful emphasis on risk. My current favourite thing is a sly anti-establishment streak – here and there, the GDPR returns to the theme of the power imbalance between the data subject and the big public institution, and seeks to even up the score.

For some, however, there is only one thing to talk about. All that matters is the fines. Fines fines fines, all day long. A conference held in London last week was Fine City as far as the tweets were concerned. COMPANIES MIGHT GO BUST, apparently. Meanwhile, the Register breathlessly reheated a press release from cyber security outfit NCC Group, featuring a magical GDPR calculator that claims ICO’s 2016 penalties would have been either £59 million or £69 million under GDPR (the figure is different in the Register’s headline and story, and I can’t be bothered to find the original because it’s all bullshit).

This is my prediction. There will never be a maximum GDPR penalty in the UK. Nobody will ever be fined €20 million (however we calculate it in diminishing Brexit Pounds), or 4% of annual turnover. There will be a mild swelling in the amount of fines, but the dizzy heights so beloved of the phalanx of new GDPR experts (TRANSLATION: people in shiny suits who were in sales and IT in 2015) will never be scaled. It’s a nonsense myth from people with kit to sell. I have something to sell, friends, and I’m not going to sell it like this.

I have no quibble with DP officers and IG managers hurling a blood-curdling depiction of the penalties at senior management when they’re trying to get more / some resources to deal with the GDPR onslaught – I would have done it. There is probably a proper term for the mistake NCC made with their calculation, but I’m calling it the Forgetting The ICO Has To Do It Syndrome. NCC say Pharmacy2U’s penalty would inflate from £130,000 to £4.4 million, ignoring the fact that the decision would not be made by a robot. Pharmacy2U flogged the data of elderly and vulnerable people to dodgy health supplement merchants, and ICO *only* fined them £130,000, despite having a maximum of £500,000. Of course, some penalties have caused genuine pain for cash-strapped public authorities, but when NCC say that their adjusted-for-GDPR Pharmacy2U fine represented “a significant proportion of its revenues and potentially enough to put it out of business“, they’re not adjusting their hot air for reality.

Take the example of a monetary penalty issued by the ICO in March against a barrister. The barrister was involved in proceedings at the Family Court and the Court of Protection, so her files contained sensitive information about children and vulnerable adults. Despite guidance issued by the Law Society in 2013, they were stored unencrypted on her home computer. While upgrading the software on the machine, her husband backed up the files to online storage. Some of the files were indexed by search engines, and were subsequently found by a local authority lawyer.

The ICO fined the barrister £1000, reduced to £800 if they paid on time. I don’t think all barristers are loaded, but most could pay a penalty of £800 without going bankrupt. £800 isn’t remotely enough for a breach as basic and avoidable as this. The aggravating factors are everywhere – the Law Society guidance, the lack of encryption, the fact that the husband had access to the data. If the ICO was capable of issuing a £4.4 million penalty, they’d fine a barrister more than £800 for this mess. And what’s worse, they redacted the barrister’s name from the notice. The ICO offered no explanation for this, so I made an FOI request for the barrister’s name and for information about why the name was redacted.

They refused to give me the name, but disclosed internal correspondence about their decision to redact. There is a lot in the response to be concerned about. For one thing, in refusing to give me the name, the ICO contradicts its own penalty notice. The notice describes an ongoing contravention from 2013 (when the Law Society guidance was issued) to 2016 (when the data was discovered). Nevertheless, the FOI response states that “this data breach was considered a one off error“, and a reference to this characterisation is also made in the notes they disclosed to me.

If it was a one-off error, ICO couldn’t have issued the penalty, because they don’t have the power to fine people for incidents, only for breaches (in this case, the absence of appropriate technical and organisation security measures required by the Seventh Data Protection principle). Given that the notice states explicitly that the breach lasted for years, the ICO’s response isn’t true. It’s bad enough that the ICO is still mixing up incidents and breaches four years after this confusion lost them the Scottish Borders Tribunal appeal, it’s even worse that they seem not to understand the point of fining Data Controllers.

In the notes disclosed to me about the decision to redact the notice, ICO officials discuss the “negative impact” of the fine on the barrister, especially as she is a “professional person who is completely reliant on referrals from external clients“. Despite the Head of Enforcement putting a succinct and pragmatic case for disclosure: “it is easier to explain why we did (proportionate, deterrent effect) rather than why we didn’t“, he is unfortunately persuaded that the most important thing is to “avoid any damage to reputation”. Bizarrely, one person claimed that they could “get the deterrent message across” despite not naming the barrister.

The GDPR requires that fines be “effective, proportionate and dissuasive” – an anonymous £800 fine fails on each point. Anyone who takes their professional obligations seriously needs no horror stories to persuade them. For those who do not, an effective, proportionate and dissuasive penalty is either a stinging fine or naming and shaming. The ICO had no appetite for either option, and effectively let the barrister get away with it. They valued her professional reputation above the privacy of people whose data she put at risk, and future clients who will innocently give their confidential and private information to someone with this shoddy track record.

If the NCC Group, and all the various vendors and GDPR carpetbaggers are to be believed, within a year, the UK will operate under a regime of colossal, multi-million pound fines that will bring errant businesses to their knees. In reality, the ICO cut the fines on charities by 90% to avoid upsetting donors, and rendered their enforcement against an irresponsible data controller pointless for fear of putting her out of business.

These two pictures cannot be reconciled. It is entirely possible for the ICO to put someone out of business – indeed, many recipients of their PECR penalties are forced into liquidation (this may be a ploy to avoid the fines, but nevertheless, the businesses close). But the majority of PECR penalties are issued against businesses operating on the very fringe of legality – they are not mainstream data controllers. They are not nice, professional barristers. They are not the audience for the Great GDPR Fine Hysteria. If the ICO cannot stomach the risk of putting a single barrister out of business pour encourager les autres, it is disingenuous to pretend that they will rain down fire on mainstream data controllers after May 2018. We’ll get more of the same – cautious, reactive, distracted by the incident, and unwilling to take aim at hard targets. Plus ça change.

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Last September, I was on holiday in Greece, full of the joys of ancient architecture, sunshine and Greek food. I decided that having spent too much of my time having a pop at charities and fundraisers and the Institute of Fundraising, I would do that thing that people always tell negative smart-arses like me to do. WHY DON’T YOU DO SOMETHING HELPFUL INSTEAD OF SNIPING FROM THE SIDELINES. I decided that they had a point.

I decided to write a clear, plain English guide to fundraising and charities based largely on the first data protection principle, setting out what Data Protection really requires from Data Protection. I wrote a blog asking for questions that charities and fundraisers really wanted the answers to, planning to write the guide over Christmas and publish it in January. Initially, I had lofty ideas for something interactive, but it came to nothing, so a guide to DP and fundraising was the aim.

Friends, things did not go to plan. Instead of writing the guide, my Christmas was dominated by some unexpected visits to hospital, and several encounters where medical professionals cheerfully reassured me that people with my condition often only find out when they have a stroke. Seasons Greetings and all that, Doc, but any sentence that contains the words ‘stroke’ or ‘brain tumour’ isn’t reassuring. The eventual diagnosis was far from serious, but it still exploded any chance I had of doing the guide on time.

By the time things calmed down, it was January, and I was writing my charity guide in fits and starts while doing loads of work around the country. And then every two minutes, someone was arranging a conference or publishing guidance and it seemed I had missed the boat. More than once, I wondered if there was any point in finishing my charity guide when the ICO and the Fundraising Regulator had already weighed in on the subject.

Then I actually read the guidance in question, and I decided that both regulators hadn’t hit the target I was aiming for – a candid, realistic and human guide to the legislation. Moreover, having relentlessly criticised charities and fundraisers, annoying a good many good people in the process, I felt that if I had something useful, something positive to give, I was obliged do so. Therefore, with no great fanfare and with no ambition further that the hope that some people might read it and understand DP better, I am publishing my guide today. If you would like to read it, please click here to get it from the downloads section of my website. You don’t need to register or sign up to anything to download it.

I did intend to say that this would be the last thing I write about charities and fundraising because surely by now I’ve said everything I possibly could and I don’t want this blog to become solely about charities. Then I realised I have Strong Opinions about the Fundraising Preference Service which some fundraisers may even agree with, so I am not going to make that claim. Nevertheless, regular readers of this blog (hello both of you) will be reassured that I intend to spend less time goading the charity sector and more time, well, goading other people.

Thanks for reading.

Idle Hands

On August 27th, the minister for International Trade, Greg Hands MP, tweeted an important update about foreign investment in the UK:

One US company emails “The minister was spot-on with his comments on Brexit & we’ve decided to stay in the UK based on guidance provided.”

It’s clearly a good thing if Brexit doesn’t result in the economic calamity that some have predicted, but by itself, Mr Hands’ tweet doesn’t advance the debate. To judge whether this is good news, we need to know how big a company this is, how likely they were to leave, and what investment and jobs they might bring to the apocalyptic wasteland that is the UK’s future. In short, we need to know who they are. If the Government wants to use decisions made by  private companies for the purposes of propaganda, we need to be able to scrutinise who they’re talking about.

I asked Mr Hands who the company was on Twitter but he ignored me, so I made an FOI request to his Department for the name of the company and all of the information contained in the email. A few weeks later came their reply, a terse response that barely explained the nature of the exemption they were using (Section 43, which prevents disclosures that cause commercial prejudice). Of the public interest, they had this to say:

in this case it is also important that Government protects commercially sensitive information to allow this particular business to continue to operate in anonymity to limit the exposure of its business strategy; the disclosure of which may be advantageous to competitors operating in the same sector

I decided to ask for an internal review. The department could maintain their position by disclosing the email but removing the name, and to be honest, I was still working on the assumption that Hands might have made the whole thing up. The Department for International Trade has a difficult relationship with the truth – only this week, the Secretary of State Liam Fox appeared on television to deny sending a tweet despite the fact that the self-same tweet was being displayed on a massive screen behind him, while in a previous job, Hands tweeted about signing off an FOI request about the number of FOI requests his department had received, despite the fact that the department published the numbers.

My review request covered three areas – I had requested all of the information in the email so the metadata for the email could still be disclosed, the public interest had not been assessed properly (the Brexit debate being possibly the most important issue facing the UK in my lifetime), and finally, I said that the Department should at least contact the company to ask their consent.

The Department’s reply was in turn bland – Hands’ meeting with the company was in private, and they had made no public announcement – and meaningless. They dealt with the metadata issue with this sentence, which I still do not understand: “With reference to your request for metadata, this is nullified by the fact that we have not released any information to you for which we would be required to provide those details.

And so off to the Commissioner’s Office I went. After a few months, the ICO achieved a result. It turned out that the Department had never consulted the company in question, despite the fact that I specifically mentioned this in my internal review request. The ICO told them that they ought to have done this, so they did. Despite their claim in their original reply that the organisation needed anonymity to limit the exposure of their business strategy, the company clearly didn’t feel the same way, so I can tell you that the company is the medical imaging firm PACS Health, and the email came from their Chief Operating Officer (Mr Hands quoted it entirely accurately).

The Department’s approach does not bode well, especially given the turbulent times the UK faces – both outside and within. Secrecy is best, they seem to think. Openness and scrutiny is to be avoided, and has no benefit. Despite having two opportunities to do it (and being prompted by me), those handling my request didn’t think it was worth contacting the company to see what they think. The assumption is that the best course of action is to keep things behind closed doors. Of course, this is a somewhat charitable characterisation of their approach, because it’s entirely possible that the Department didn’t want to contact the company in case they said yes. I mean no disrespect to the fine folk of PACS Health, but they’re not exactly Nissan. How many small companies will have to adopt the same approach to make up for the economic opportunities the UK is about to lose?

The ICO’s attitude wasn’t encouraging either. Admittedly, it was only by complaining to them that I got the information, but the Senior Case Officer wrote to me saying that because of this, they proposed “to informally and proportionately close this matter” without issuing a decision notice. I can see the merit in this sometimes but here, the ICO has an opportunity to send out a message to all public authorities – when claiming commercial prejudice to third parties and private companies, it’s vital to consult them. Doing so in my case would have avoided an internal review and a complaint to the ICO, and they had to do it in the end anyway. By trying to dodge a decision notice, the chance to send this message is lost.

The problem is that unless I withdraw my complaint, the ICO’s main option to refuse to make a decision is to say that my complaint is frivolous or vexatious, and they clearly didn’t think it was. They don’t even have the guts to be transparent about this and say ‘please withdraw your complaint so we can close the case and hit our targets‘ – the Commissioner loftily proposes to close the matter, and I am invited to give the case officer a ring if I want to discuss it.

I asked if they were refusing to issue a decision notice, underlining the point that my case is a good example of the importance of consultation, and I received a somewhat testy reply, telling me that it was clearly not proportionate for the ICO to do so given that I was going to receive the information, and the Department had been told to consult in future. The problem with this argument is that this will only benefit the Department itself, whereas a Decision Notice will be seen by other public authorities and (more importantly) FOI applicants. And separately, there is also some benefit to the Department’s shoddy approach being ventilated. They might be less likely to do it again if it’s a known fact that they did it here.

As he realised that I would object to having the case closed informally, the Case Officer confirmed that a decision notice would nevertheless be issued, although he could not resist a slightly petulant parting shot: “Please note that the process of issuing such a notice can be a lengthy one (i.e. months not weeks)“. I’m not sure why I should be chastened by a reminder of the ICO’s ponderous decision-making processes – indeed, if they were better at making and signing off decisions instead of constantly looking for excuses to close cases, it probably wouldn’t take months anyway.

On both sides, transparency isn’t valued. The Department for International Trade want to keep everything way from scrutiny; the ICO just wants to close cases without going through the admin of writing a decision notice, despite the benefit that a wider dissemination of the case might have. Whatever you think about the future, we need an FOI system that is better hands than this.

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.