Police forces across the United States are stockpiling massive databases with personal information from millions of Americans who crossed paths with officers but were not charged with a crime.
A person can end up in one of these databases by doing nothing more than sitting on a public park bench or chatting with an officer on the street. Once there, these records can linger forever and be used by police agencies to track movements, habits, acquaintances and associations â even a personâs marital and job status, The Post and Courier found in an investigation of police practices around the nation.
What began as a method for linking suspicious behavior to crime has morphed into a practice that threatens to turn local police departments into miniature versions of the National Security Agency. In the process, critics contend, police risk trampling constitutional rights, tarnishing innocent people and further eroding public trust.
Law enforcement agencies have for decades used whatâs known as field interview or contact cards to document everything from sketchy activity to random encounters with people on the street. But the digital age has greatly expanded the power and reach of this tool, allowing police to store indefinitely reams of data on those who draw their interest â long after any potential link to a crime has evaporated.
âThey pose a different threat than the NSA. ⌠But they can reveal a much more invasive picture of a personâs life,â attorney StephanieLacambra of the Electronic Frontier Foundation, a California-based digital-rights advocacy group, said in response to the newspaperâs findings. âThe public should be concerned.â
Some 35,000 people â roughly equal to a quarter of the cityâs population â show up in the Charleston Police Departmentâsdatabase for field contacts, which includes everyone from suspected killers to toddlers and 99-year-olds. One man alone has more than 1,000 entries to his name.
Nearly 35,000 people - equal to about a quarter of the cityâs population â show up in the Charleston Police Departmentâs database for field contacts. Chris Hanclosky/Staff
If you want to know whatâs in those files, itâs going to cost you. Even though these are public records under South Carolina law, Charleston police has refused to fully open them for inspection unless The Post and Courier forks over nearly $200,000 - a fee the newspaper is fighting in court. In other places, public access is blocked altogether and mired in secrecy.
In a first-of-its-kind review, the newspaper spent a year examining the field contact practices of the nationâs 50 largest police departments, along with some of the top law enforcement agencies in South Carolina. The investigation found a haphazard system with few controls and many concerns. Among the findings:
Police are collecting a bounty of intimate details from people during these encounters while often pushing to keep that information hidden from the public, hindering oversight.
Most law enforcement agencies hoard this information indefinitely, whether it leads to an arrest or not.
Police officers in some cities frequently fail to fully document their reasons for approaching and questioning people, raising concerns that the encounters violate Fourth Amendment rights against unwarranted government intrusions.
Privacy concerns are amplified by reports of police officers around the country misusing information from official databases to settle personal scores or help others do the same.
While some departments try to limit access to this personal data, others are sharing it with outside agencies. Maryland, for one, is working to create a statewide database of field interview information drawn from dozens of departments within its borders.