The Curse of the Padlock

One of the dangers of working in Data Protection is the risk of becoming a pedant. Precision matters; court cases have turned on the meaning of individual words like ‘likely’ and ‘distress’. The legislation is a maze of definitions and concepts that the competent practitioner needs to get to grips with. Lazy thinking can be revealed by an inability to get the details right, so it’s possible to become obsessed with the detail. Even the BCS Data Protection exam has a question which requires you to list the elements of the definition of consent in the right order. It’s easy to lapse into pedantry, to point out every wrongly quoted article, every jumbled phrase.

Nevertheless, getting a simple thing right is often important. GDPR does not cover ‘personal identifiable information’; it covers ‘personal data’ and the definition of the two is not the same. A person who talks about PII in the context of European Data Protection is starting in the wrong place (the US), and can make mistakes as a result. Another error that seems to be creeping in all over the place is more profound, and risks entrenching one of the biggest misconceptions about how data protection works, a misconception many of us have spent years trying to break down.

The problem is the phrase ‘data privacy’.

I see it everywhere – on LinkedIn naturally, in news coverage of the sector, and predictably, the ICO has fallen for it. They describe themselves as “The UK’s independent authority set up to uphold information rights in the public interest, promoting openness by public bodies and data privacy for individuals.” Look at the Data Privacy Advisory Service, who summarise their services as “At DPAS we help organisations safeguard the fundamental human right to have data kept private by putting in place the best possible protection to keep it secure. This is delivered in line with the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) and The Data Protection Act 2018.”

The idea is nonsense. It doesn’t exist. There is no right to data privacy – there is certainly no fundamental right ‘to have data kept private’. This isn’t a snide dig at someone quoting the wrong article. The concept of ‘data privacy’ is a complete misunderstanding of what Data Protection is for, and everyone who promotes it is actively thwarting the efforts of the rest of us to implement data protection in a practical way.

Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights says: ‘Everyone has the right to respect for his private and family life, his home and his correspondence“. This right is not absolute; it can be interfered with (only when necessary) in the interests of “national security, public safety or the economic well-being of the country, for the prevention of disorder or crime, for the protection of health or morals, or for the protection of the rights and freedoms of others“. The right is not just about data – it certainly can be, as is evidenced by cases where celebrities and others use the privacy right to prevent the use of images that breach their right to privacy. But the right to privacy doesn’t have to be about data at all – you can breach a person’s right to privacy by simply observing them, by being in a place where they expect privacy, or by denying them the opportunity to do something privately. Data doesn’t have to come into it.

Clearly, if you did a Venn diagram, there would be circumstances where privacy and data protection overlap. By following the Data Protection principles when you handle a person’s private correspondence for example, you probably also do what’s necessary to protect their privacy. The same is true for confidentiality – not all confidential data is personal data, but a decent stab at the principles will probably respect both. There is, however, a significant portion of the Venn diagram where Data Protection and Privacy do not meet, and the DP part of that is important.

The notion of ‘Data Privacy’ obscures two vital elements of Data Protection. First, data protection is not only about private data. It is covers all personal data, private, secret, and public. For years, I have been banging my head against the brick wall of ‘it’s not personal data, it’s in the public domain’. Trying to explain to people that data like photographs, email addresses and other publicly available data is still personal data, just available and easier to use than some other data has long been a difficulty. There was a chink of light in Article 14 of the GDPR which clearly states that a person should be informed even when their data is accessed from ‘publicly accessible sources’. This explicit recognition that public data is still personal data is very helpful, but the notion that ‘data protection’ and ‘data privacy’ are interchangeable muddies the waters again.

Second, in related news, GDPR is not about keeping data private; it is about ensuring that personal data processing is properly regulated. For years, Data Protection has been plagued by the padlock. The Information Commissioner used it as a logo (‘but the padlock is unlocked’ is a defence that umpteen different ICO folk have used when I complained about it), and when I did a Google image search for ‘Data Protection’ today, this is the top set of results:

Screenshot 2019-05-26 at 09.17.53

The problem with the Data Protection Padlock is that it presents the legislation as something that locks data up, keeps it away from people. This understanding of data protection leads directly to the belief that disclosure of personal data is inherently problematic and exceptional, and that belief is toxic. I’m not persuaded that Victoria Climbie or Peter Connelly died solely because data about them wasn’t shared, but the pervasive fear of data sharing didn’t help. The GDPR says that ‘the protection of natural persons in relation to the processing of personal data is a fundamental right‘. The word ‘privacy‘ isn’t mentioned anywhere beyond a reference in a footnote to the ePrivacy Directive, and the processing of personal data is firmly put in the context of operating the EU’s internal market: “This regulation is intended to contribute to the accomplishment of an area of freedom, security and justice, and of an economic union“.

You can’t achieve the economic union by locking all the data away, by keeping it private. To characterise data protection law as being about ‘data privacy’ is to misrepresent its purpose completely. European Data Protection is a compromise – trade is underpinned by the use, even the exploitation of personal data, but people have rights, they have control over their data in some (but not all) circumstances, and the legislation built on foundations of transparency and fairness, not privacy. Arguably, the GDPR tries to even up the power imbalance in some circumstances, but it is not designed to lock up data and keep it private.

Of course, some people might be using ‘privacy’ as a synonym for ‘secure’ – the DPAS statement above seems to elide the two. Only a fool would want to play down the importance of security in the context of using any personal data, but the reduction of Data Protection solely to security is as destructive to a proper understanding of it as the privacy / protection mess. We’ve managed to drag Data Protection out of the IT department, and we need to stamp on this idea that security is the exemplar of good DP practice. Your data can be private and secure, but kept for no good reason, for too long, in an inaccurate state, and there could be too much of it.

Some personal data is private and should remain so. In many situations, the processing of personal data without an eye on people’s legitimate expectations of privacy, especially when monitoring, watching or listening to them, is likely to be unfair and so unlawful. There is a strong link between Data Protection and Privacy, and any attempt to divorce them would be stupid. But the use of ‘data privacy’ as a synonym for data protection is misleading and dangerous – it perpetuates a fundamental misreading of what the legislation is for, and makes the lives of everyone trying to make GDPR work effectively a thousands times harder. It’s time to take this nonsense, lock it up and throw away the key.

Head in the Sandbox

The Information Commissioner’s Office recently held a workshop about their proposed Regulatory Sandbox. The idea of the sandbox is that organisations can come to the ICO with new proposals in order to test out their lawfulness in a safe environment. The hoped-for outcome is that products and services that are at the same time innovative and compliant will emerge.

There is no mention of a sandbox process in the GDPR or the DPA 2018. There is a formal mechanism for controllers to consult the ICO about new ideas that carry high risk (prior consultation) but the circumstances where that happens are prescribed. It’s more about managing risk than getting headlines. Unlike Data Protection Impact Assessments, prior consultation or certification, the design and operation of the sandbox is entirely within the ICO’s control. It is important to know who is having an influence its development, especially as the sandbox approach is not without risk.

Although Mrs Denham is not above eye-catching enforcement when it suits her, the ICO is often risk averse, and has shown little appetite for challenging business models. For example, the UK’s vibrant data broking market – which is fundamentally opaque and therefore unlawful – has rarely been challenged by Wilmslow, especially not the bigger players. They often get treated as stakeholders. The sandbox could make this worse – big organisations will come with their money-making wheezes, and it’s hard to imagine that ICO staff will want to tell them that they can’t do what they want. The sandbox could leave the ICO implicated, having approved or not prevented dodgy practices to avoid the awkwardness of saying no.

Even if you disagree with me about these risks, it’s surely a good thing that the ICO is transparent about who is having an influence on the process. So I made an FOI request to the ICO, requesting the names and companies or organisations of those who attended the meeting. As is tradition, they replied on the 20th working day to refuse to tell me. According to Wilmslow, disclosure of the attendees’ identities is exempt for four different reasons. Transparency will prejudice the ICO’s ability to carry out its regulatory functions, disclosure of the names of the attendees is a breach of data protection, revealing the names of the organisations will cause them commercial damage, and finally, the information was supplied with an expectation of confidentiality, and so disclosure will breach that duty.

These claims are outrageous. DPIAs and prior disclosure exist, underpinned both by the law and by European Data Protection Board guidance. Despite the obvious benefits of developing a formal GDPR certification process (both allowing controllers to have their processing assessed, and the creation of a new industry at a time when the UK needs all the economic activity it can get), the ICO’s position on certification is supremely arrogant: “The ICO has no plans to accredit certification bodies or carry out certification at this time“. A process set out in detail in the GDPR is shunned, with the ICO choosing instead to spend huge amounts of time and money on a pet project which has no legal basis. Certification could spread expertise across the UK; the sandbox will inevitably be limited to preferred stakeholders. If they’re hiding the identities of those who show up to the workshop, it’s hard to imagine that the actual process will be any more transparent.

The ICO’s arguments about commercial prejudice under S43 of FOI are amateurish: “To disclose that a company has sent delegates to the event may in itself indicate to the wider sector and therefore potential competitors that they are in development of, or in the planning stages of a new innovative product which involves personal data“. A vital principle of FOI is that when using a prejudice-based exemption, you need to show cause and effect. Disclosure will or will be likely to lead to the harm described. How on earth could a company lose money, or become less competitive, purely because it was revealed that they attended an ICO event (which is what using S43 means)?

The ICO’s personal data and confidentiality arguments are equally weak – everyone who attended the meeting would know the identities of everyone else, and all were acting in an official or commercial capacity. This was not a secret or private meeting about a specific project; anyone with an interest was able to apply to attend. Revealing their attendance is not unfair, and there is plainly a legitimate interest in knowing who the ICO is talking to about a project into which the office is putting significant resources, and which will have an impact on products or services that may affect millions of people. The determination to hide this basic information and avoid scrutiny of the sandbox process undermines the credibility of the project itself, and makes the ICO’s claim to be an effective defender of public sector transparency ever more hypocritical.

Worst of all, if disclosure of the attendees’ identity was the calamity for commercial sensitivity and personal data that the ICO claims it to be, there should be an immediate and thorough investigation of how the information I requested came to be revealed on the ICO’s website and twitter account. The entire event was recorded and a promotional video was released. Several attendees (whose names and companies I cannot be given because of confidentiality, data protection and commercial prejudice) are identified and interviewed on camera, while there are numerous shots of other attendees who are clearly identifiable. Either the ICO has betrayed the confidentiality and personal data rights of these people, putting their companies at direct commercial risk, or their FOI response is a cack-handed attempt to avoid legitimate scrutiny. Either way, I strongly recommend that the left hand and the right hand in Wilmslow make some rudimentary attempts to get to know one another.

Long ago, I was one of a number of online commentators described by the ICO’s comms people as a ‘driver of negative sentiment’. More recently, one of Denham’s more dedicated apologists accused me of being one of the regulator’s “adversaries”. I’m not a fan of the ICO, and I never have been. But this stinks. The determination to throw every conceivable exemption at a simple request to know who the ICO is talking to suggests that the office is afraid of scrutiny, afraid of having to justify what they’re doing and how they’re doing it. The incompetence of refusing to give me information that is on display on their website and Twitter account shows contempt for their obligations as an FOI regulator. The ICO has its head in the sand; as we drift out of the European mainstream into a lonely future on the fringes, their secrecy and incompetence should be matters of concern for anyone who cares about Data Protection.

A case in point(lessness)

The Information Commissioner did a bit of business in Hendon Magistrates’ Court recently, as SCL Elections was fined £15000 for breaching an enforcement notice. Long ago, Professor David Carroll made a subject access request to Cambridge Analytica. As Cambridge Analytica was based in the US where SARs do not apply, they passed it to SCL Elections, a related company established in the UK, to process his request. Having received a response, Carroll claimed it was inadequate and complained to the ICO. After some correspondence, SCL and Cambridge Analytica went into administration. The ICO then served SCL with an enforcement notice over Carroll’s SAR, and SCL failed to comply with or appeal it.

On the face of it, it’s a win – fines in the Mags for breaches of ICO notices are usually in the low thousands, and after more than a year of a multi-million-pound investigation into data analytics, this seems a rare example of something actually happening. Following the humiliation of the first GDPR enforcement notice against AIQ, which had to be withdrawn and replaced, and the Facebook £500,000 penalty which was immediately appealed, you could argue that it’s a solid result for Team Wilmslow.

But the ICO reaction is weird – their website misleadingly claims that SCL was ‘also known as Cambridge Analytica’. SCL was a shareholder in Cambridge Analytica but the two companies are separate and based in different countries. Moreover, the ICO press release states “In pleading guilty, the company has accepted it should have responded fully to Professor Carroll’s subject access request and the ICO’s notice in the first place” but this is not what reality suggests. SCL’s guilty plea was helpfully tweeted out by Denham’s hagiographer Carole Cadwalladr, and it clearly says that they were pleading guilty to failing to answer the notice, not to any ‘misuse of data’.

Denham seems stuck in the past. This prosecution is, she says, ‘the first against Cambridge Analytica’ and her comment implies it won’t be the last, despite the fact that both SCL and Cambridge Analytica are being wound up. Since May 2018, the ICO’s needle on GDPR has barely twitched beyond that abortive AIQ notice, but the noise on analytics has been deafening. Whatever Cambridge Analytica did back in 2016, a massive change like GDPR requires a Commissioner completely focussed on implementing it. Stories about delays and poor decisions at the ICO are rife in the Data Protection community at the moment; the ICO can’t even keep its website up and running, and yet Denham seems dedicated to fighting old battles like a Japanese soldier lost in the Pacific who doesn’t know WW2 is over.

I can’t see what the SCL case has achieved. Carroll has trumpeted the criminal nature of the prosecution, claiming it proves that CA was a ‘criminal enterprise’, but the case is a relic. Under GDPR / DPA 2018, ignoring an enforcement notice is no longer a criminal offence and so there will never be another case like this. SCL might have pleaded guilty, but the substantive question of whether they gave Carroll all the data he was entitled to remains unresolved. They didn’t admit that they hadn’t, and the court cannot order them to deliver any outstanding data even if the judge thought that they should. The punishment for ignoring an enforcement notice can only ever be a financial one – a fine on conviction under the old rules, a penalty from the ICO under the new. The ICO must have known this going in.

The idea, of course, is a data controller will comply with an enforcement notice rather than face the possible punishment, but when the ICO served the notice on SCL, they were already in administration, so they were unlikely to respond in the normal way. Indeed, as the administrators confirmed, the prosecution was only possible because they gave ICO permission to take it forward. In a bizarre twist, the administrators’ guilty plea also revealed that data relating to Carroll isn’t in their possession – it is stored on the servers seized by the ICO on the celebrated Night of the Blue Jackets. So we’re in the bewildering position of the ICO starting enforcement on a defunct company, aware that the enforcement in question cannot result in any personal data being disclosed, and in the full knowledge that any relevant information is actually in their possession. It’s DP enforcement designed by MC Escher. You have to wonder why ICO didn’t just give Carroll his data themselves.

Underneath the surface froth, there are some interesting issues. SCL’s approach to the ICO (as set out in the enforcement notice) is an exemplar in how not to deal with a regulator. In my former life as a Data Protection Officer, I was guilty of a ‘make them blink first’ approach to ICO case officers, but I never did anything as stupid as to make comparisons to the Taliban in my correspondence, or to demand that the ICO stop harassing my employer. More importantly, SCL committed a glaring tactical mistake by switching their approach mid-race. Initially, they answered Carroll’s request, but then u-turned into a claim that his request was invalid because he was a US citizen (hence the remark that he was no more entitled to make a request than a member of the Taliban). In my opinion, had they stuck to their guns and argued that there was no more data, the case would have been less appealing as an enforcement issue. In deciding to change tack, the onus is on them to convince the ICO of the change, rather than getting all holier-than-thou.

Equally interesting is Carroll’s claim that he should be treated as a creditor of the business, which he outlined to the FTProf Carroll argues that the data originally held by Cambridge Analytica actually belongs to the users and should be returned to them, despite the insolvency. “I am a data creditor — just like the financial creditors,” he says. “There are outstanding obligations to me.”

I think this argument is nonsense, but the idea that data subjects own their data is a popular myth (revived with enthusiasm by the introduction of the GDPR). The problem / advantage with personal data is that it can be easily and quickly replicated; I can take a copy of your data without your permission, but unlike a conventional theft, you still have it. You can get access to the data I hold about you under a SAR or portability, but once again, I give you a copy and keep my version. Only in limited circumstances can you request that I delete it, and there are many exceptions.

Admittedly, GDPR gives the subject more control over their data than before, but it doesn’t give them ownership. It’s misleading to suggest that a data controller doesn’t really own personal data when there are so many circumstances where they can obtain, disclose, retain or destroy it without the permission of the subject, and when the opportunities for the subject to object are so limited. I don’t think Carroll understands this, but it would be interesting to see his ‘creditor’ notion tested.

Teasing this out might have been a justification for the ICO to enforce on SCL, except for the obvious fact that these issues would never be raised by doing so. If SCL hadn’t pleaded guilty, the question for the court would be whether SCL breached the notice and nothing else. Because SCL made no attempt to comply with or appeal the notice, they never had much to argue about. The enforcement notice was remarkably misguided considering ICO actually holds the data, but it is a tribute to SCL’s ineptitude that they didn’t choose to highlight this by appealing.

According to Carroll, the fight goes on with other cases, so his beef with SCL / Cambridge Analytica might one day result in something interesting, but there’s nothing here. I don’t believe that the ICO has any business enforcing Data Protection on behalf of Americans when they’re so lackadaisical about doing so on behalf of people in the UK, and so this case is an almost offensive waste of resources. But even if you disagree, all they’ve achieved here is given the corpse of SCL a good kicking, with a result that doesn’t tell us anything about the future or very much about the past.

 

Secret Service

A little while ago, I noticed an interesting story on the website of the Fundraising Regulator. They reported a case where a woman had applied for a job with a charity and subsequently, she started to receive marketing from them. She asked for her details to be removed from their donor list, and the request was ignored. The story was still there when they reworked their website recently, but it now appears to have vanished.

This is a breach of Data Protection and (potentially) PECR – the charity would not have informed the person that their data was being used for marketing which is a breach of the first DP principle, they breached the second principle by re-using the data for an incompatible purpose. By ignoring her request for the marketing to stop, they breached her rights under Section 11 of the old DPA and if they sent emails, they breached PECR as well.

Given that this is a quite a serious breach of DP fundamentals, you might think that the Fundraising Regulator isn’t really the right person to deal with it. Although direct marketing forms part of the Code of Fundraising Practice, the proper regulator for both DP and PECR is the Information Commissioner. For both possible breaches, the issue of fundraising is probably the least important aspect – a charity that misuses personal data in such a profound way should be investigated by the Information Commissioner, not a non-statutory body with a relatively narrow focus.

I asked the Fundraising Regulator whether they had passed the complaint to the Information Commissioner’s Office. After a little while, I received a reply from a senior officer asking why I wanted to know. I said that I thought this was a relatively serious breach of data protection, and I wanted to know whether it had been shared with the right people. Shortly after that, I received a reply saying that they couldn’t tell me. This is an anonymised case study – the description of the case did not name the charity, or give any identifying information about the donor. The Fundraising Regulator has already decided to use the story to promote their work, and so asking whether they have shared it with the appropriate regulator (a question that has a Yes / No answer) seems entirely reasonable to me. I pushed a little, and apparently my request went up to Gerald Oppenheim, the FR’s eminently sensible Chief Executive. He also said no.

So I made an FOI request to the ICO, asking for the number of complaints the Fundraising Regulator has passed on to them, and a summary of each complaint. The ICO replied, saying that 100 complaints have been passed from the FR, and in response to my request for a summary of each complaint, they gave me whatever this is:

Charities who have failed to on-board onto the Fundraising Preference Service (FPS) portal despite receiving a request to stop communications from a member of the public.”

Weirdly they claimed that “We do not hold information in regard to the details of each complaint” but in reply to my question about what action they have taken as a result of these complaints, the answer was: “No further action, logged for future intelligence purposes”. This means that they don’t hold any information about complaints that they have logged for future intelligence purposes.

Leaving that aside, the ICO’s response doesn’t suggest that the complaint I am interested in was shared, and so I am going out on a limb to say that I think the reason that the Fundraising Regulator didn’t want to tell me whether they had shared the complaint is because they hadn’t and didn’t want to admit it.

Why does this matter? The Fundraising Regulator’s predecessor, the Fundraising Standards Board, was an inherent part of the Data Protection problems in the charity sector that exploded spectacularly with stories in the Daily Mail. Thousands of complaints were soaked up by the FRSB and never passed on, meaning that the ICO was largely unaware of marketing problems in the sector. The last thing that the FR should be doing is sitting on serious data protection issues in the same way. The ICO and the FR have signed a memorandum of understanding agreeing to share information to assist each other in carrying out their functions, and so there is a clear gateway for the FR to inform the Commissioner of complaints like this.

The problem is, I only know about this complaint because the FR was incautious enough to try to get some PR out of it. Who knows how many more complaints they have dealt with that reveal genuine data protection problems – it may be an isolated case, or there may be loads of them. The organisation’s refusal to be open about the fate of this case means it’s unlikely they’d be forthcoming if it wasn’t a one-off. The FR’s role in operating a glorified opt-out service which is arguably not really required has already attracted some justifiable criticism from the charity sector, but this issue also deserves scrutiny.

Charities have had a torrid time over the way in which some of them handled personal data – as unpopular as this will make me (again), I think much of the flack was deserved. But it isn’t helping the sector for cases like this to be buried – bad practice should be rooted out publicly and by the right people, so all can learn by example. I can’t make Freedom of Information requests to the Fundraising Regulator because they’re not covered, and given the track record of the FRSB, being told rather haughtily that “it is for our organisation and the ICO to discuss and agree what issues we should and shouldn’t be investigating” doesn’t fill me with very much confidence that the right lessons have been learned. The Fundraising Regulator should be transparent about what cases are passing through their doors, which get passed on, and which don’t. Otherwise, perhaps the Mail should start digging again.

We need to talk about Ardi

This week, Private Eye reported that the publishers Kogan Page had withdraw a book about the GDPR by Ardi Kolah, after they received allegations of plagiarism from several sources. Most references to the GDPR Handbook have been scrubbed from Kolah’s online history and Kogan Page’s website is terse, to say the least. The fate of Kolah’s book is interesting not only because the high profile author is involved in both Henley Business School’s GDPR course and the British Computer Society’s Data Protection Certificate, but because Kolah has repeatedly sought to build his reputation through an association with the Information Commissioner, Elizabeth Denham.

The ‘About the Author’ section of his book describes Kolah as having “worked closely” with Denham, and there is some substance to the claim. Not only did Denham write the foreword for the book (and also for Kolah’s luxury leather-bound edition of the GDPR), she invited him to be one of the judges of her inaugural Data Protection Officer award.

Denham’s foreword describes him admiringly as a veteran of the Data Protection sector. She describes the UK’s data protection community before her arrival from Canada as a “small group of people ready to help each other out to raise standards“. She claims Kolah was someone who “flew the flag for data protection many years before it broke into the mainstream with the GDPR“. After some flannel, she returns to the theme: “Ardi and others of his generation often walked a rather lonely path in their efforts to have data protection taken seriously by the mainstream” and praises the book as “authoritative“.

I made an FOI request to the ICO asking if she wrote the foreword because I had a sneaking suspicion that Kolah himself might have been the author. The response was emphatic: “The Commissioner wrote the foreword and was the author of the Word document that was sent to Mr Kolah with the foreword in it. Mr Kolah had no input in the content of the foreword, did not ask for any input and did not ask for any copy approval of the foreword. The version sent to him on 6th April represented the Commissioner’s final wording to appear in the book unedited and unabridged.” This means that Denham is entirely responsible for the claims about Ardi Kolah’s career in Data Protection that appear in the foreword, and I think that’s a problem.

For most of his career, Kolah has been a PR guy. He worked as head of communications or PR for a variety of different organisations between 1995 and (at least) 2012. He worked for the BBC up until 1995, but after that, he did PR for Arthur Andersen, Cancer Research and Logica among others. His own CV on LinkedIn shows him as ‘Global Head of Public Relations’ for Brit Insurance until 2012. The notion that Kolah was flying the flag for Data Protection for “many years” and he was part of a generation of people who worked thanklessly in the DP mines is plainly unsustainable. Even now, his Twitter account describes him as a “Commentator on all things sales and marketing and social media“. Kolah’s own timeline doesn’t mention Data Protection until 2012, when he says founded a company called Go DPO, and even so, it’s hard to square his version with other available information.

An experienced training consultant called Darren Verrian is also on LinkedIn, and he  says that he started work on Go DPO in May 2015, three years after Kolah. This is interesting because Verrian describes himself as ‘co-founder’ of the business. Furthermore, Companies House shows that on 2nd June 2015, Kolah and Verrian registered two companies, one called Go DPO EU Recruitment (which was dissolved in February 2018), and another called Go DPO EU Compliance (which is still trading). Subsequently, they registered Go DPO EU Advisory Services in February 2016 (dissolved in March 2018), and finally Go DPO EU Consultancy Services in August 2017 (also still trading). Weirdly, despite his claim that he was running Go DPO in 2012, a company called Genworth Financial announced on 28th May 2012 that they had hired Kolah as their Director of Communications. Kolah doesn’t mention Genworth Financial anywhere on his LinkedIn CV.

I think it’s impossible to reconcile Denham’s claims about Kolah’s longstanding involvement in Data Protection with his own CV, but the contradiction between Kolah and Verrian’s respective claims and the facts on Companies House make it worse. As far as I can see, Ardi Kolah is not a Data Protection veteran: he’s just good at PR. Since I started to make mischief at his expense, several people have approached me with stories of Kolah’s error-strewn, self-promoting performances at conferences, and his now-disgraced book is an bloated mix of turgid management-speak and basic errors.

I didn’t identify the examples of apparent plagiarism or report them to Kogan Page, but I have seen them and it’s obvious to me why the publishers withdrew the book. I think Kolah owes everyone who bought the book an apology, and Kogan Page owes them a refund (I’m aware that they did offer a refund to at least one purchaser on the proviso that he returned the book). Perhaps Kolah did Data Protection work before May 2015 but I can’t find it. Maybe he can reconcile his and Verrian’s accounts and explain why no variant of a company called Go DPO was registered in 2012. But even if 2012 really is when he started, the way Denham characterises him in her foreword is at best wildly exaggerated, and a slap in the face for those of us who really have been working on UK data protection for a long time.

Moreover, unless he can refute the plagiarism allegations (and having seen what they’re based on, it would require a lot more than spin to achieve that), I think Kolah should resign from three of his current roles. There is no way that someone guilty of plagiarism should have a role on an exam board, at a prestigious business school or as Editor-in-Chief of a widely published journal. If he does not, then the BCS, Henley Business School and the editorial board of Journal of Data Protection and Privacy (many of whom are quoted in the book endorsing it) should sack him. They cannot be seen to tolerate plagiarism. Whether his friends at Amplified Business Content (who organise many of the conferences that Kolah speaks at) or Hitachi (who employ him as a part-time DPO) still think he’s an appropriate person to work with is none of my business.

A more important question than the fate of Mr Kolah is what this mess says about Elizabeth Denham. Kolah trades on his ‘close working relationship‘ with the Commissioner. Denham should have shut down this inappropriate use of her name, but instead, she promoted both Kolah’s book and the man himself by asking him to be a judge of the DPO award. When I made an FOI request to the ICO about Denham’s relationship with Kolah, they were in denial, refusing to accept that writing a foreword was an endorsement:

it may be helpful to note that we do not consider that writing a foreword in an official capacity to be an endorsement or to be otherwise advertising a commercial product. A decision to write a foreword or review is normally taken on the basis of the ICO being aware of the author’s standing as a practitioner or expert, and the value the book adds to the information rights community

ICO comments received by Private Eye suggest that while Denham definitely wrote the foreword, she may not have even read the book. Kolah sent it to her, but the ICO said she did not study the book, relying instead on her ‘prior confidence‘ in the author. Along with several other people, I have asked the ICO to show what evidence Denham relied on to make her assertions about Kolah’s long history in UK data protection. They admit that no such information is held. Denham made assertions to support her friend and help sell his book, and I don’t think she can substantiate them.

The Information Commissioner should not endorse commercial products, and this isn’t the first time she’s been willing to lend her authority when doing so. Kolah’s book has turned out to be damaged goods, but if she’d had the sense not to endorse anything, she wouldn’t have this problem. What this says about Denham’s judgement isn’t pretty, and I think it’s untenable for her to stay silent on the matter. Rather than throwing spokespersons under the bus, Denham should explain it herself. What due diligence did she do on Kolah? Did anyone even Google him? Why does she think he’s got a long and distinguished career in Data Protection when he hasn’t? And most of all, how can she assure us that she’s independent when she can be persuaded to make a mistake as big as this?