The Constitution prohibits dragnet device searches, especially when those searches are designed to uncover political speech, EFF explained in a friend-of-the-court brief filed in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Tenth Circuit.

The case, Armendariz v. City of Colorado Springs, challenges device and data seizures and searches conducted by the Colorado Springs police after a 2021 housing rights march that the police deemed “illegal.” The plaintiffs in the case, Jacqueline Armendariz and a local organization called the Chinook Center, argue these searches violated their civil rights.

The case details repeated actions by the police to target and try to intimidate plaintiffs and other local civil rights activists solely for their political speech. After the 2021 march, police arrested several protesters, including Ms. Armendariz. Police alleged Ms. Armendariz “threw” her bike at an officer as he was running, and despite that the bike never touched the officer, police charged her with attempted simple assault. Police then used that charge to support warrants to seize and search six of her electronic devices—including several phones and laptops. The search warrant authorized police to comb through these devices for all photos, videos, messages, emails, and location data sent or received over a two-month period and to conduct a time-unlimited search of 26 keywords—including for terms as broad and sweeping as “officer,” “housing,” “human,” “right,” “celebration,” “protest,” and several common names. Separately, police obtained a warrant to search all of the Chinook Center’s Facebook information and private messages sent and received by the organization for a week, even though the Center was not accused of any crime.

After Ms. Armendariz and the Chinook Center filed their civil rights suit, represented by the ACLU of Colorado, the defendants filed a motion to dismiss the case, arguing the searches were justified and, in any case, officers were entitled to qualified immunity. The district court agreed and dismissed the case. Ms. Armendariz and the Center appealed to the Tenth Circuit.

As explained in our amicus brief—which was joined by the Center for Democracy & Technology, the Electronic Privacy Information Center, and the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University—the devices searched contain a wealth of personal information. For that reason, and especially where, as here, political speech is implicated, it is imperative that warrants comply with the Fourth Amendment.

The U.S. Supreme Court recognized in Riley v. California that electronic devices such as smartphones “differ in both a quantitative and a qualitative sense” from other objects. Our electronic devices’ immense storage capacities means that just one type of data can reveal more than previously possible because they can span years’ worth of information. For example, location data can reveal a person’s “familial, political, professional, religious, and sexual associations.” And combined with all of the other available data—including photos, video, and communications—a device such as a smartphone or laptop can store a “digital record of nearly every aspect” of a person’s life, “from the mundane to the intimate.” Social media data can also reveal sensitive, private information, especially with respect to users' private messages.

It’s because our devices and the data they contain can be so revealing that warrants for this information must rigorously adhere to the Fourth Amendment’s requirements of probable cause and particularity.

Those requirements weren’t met here. The police’s warrants failed to establish probable cause that any evidence of the crime they charged Ms. Armendariz with—throwing her bike at an officer—would be found on her devices. And the search warrant, which allowed officers to rifle through months of her private records, was so overbroad and lacking in particularity as to constitute an unconstitutional “general warrant.” Similarly, the warrant for the Chinook Center’s Facebook messages lacked probable cause and was especially invasive given that access to these messages may well have allowed police to map activists who communicated with the Center and about social and political advocacy.

The warrants in this case were especially egregious because they appear designed to uncover First Amendment-protected activity. Where speech is targeted, the Supreme Court has recognized that it’s all the more crucial that warrants apply the Fourth Amendment’s requirements with “scrupulous exactitude” to limit an officer’s discretion in conducting a search. But that failed to happen here, and thus affected several of Ms. Armendariz and the Chinook Center’s First Amendment rights—including the right to free speech, the right to free association, and the right to receive information.

Warrants that fail to meet the Fourth Amendment’s requirements disproportionately burden disfavored groups. In fact, the Framers adopted the Fourth Amendment to prevent the “use of general warrants as instruments of oppression”—but as legal scholars have noted, law enforcement routinely uses low-level, highly discretionary criminal offenses to impose order on protests. Once arrests are made, they are often later dropped or dismissed—but the damage is done, because protesters are off the streets, and many may be chilled from returning. Protesters undoubtedly will be further chilled if an arrest for a low-level offense then allows police to rifle through their devices and digital data, as happened in this case.

The Tenth Circuit should let this case to proceed. Allowing police to conduct a virtual fishing expedition of a protester’s devices, especially when justification for that search is an arrest for a crime that has no digital nexus, contravenes the Fourth Amendment’s purposes and chills speech. It is unconstitutional and should not be tolerated.

Special thanks to legal intern Alissa Johnson, who was the lead author of this post.

EFF recently filed an amicus brief in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit urging the court to reverse a lower court decision upholding a State Department rule that forces visa applicants to the United States to disclose their social media identifiers as part of the application process. If upheld, the district court ruling has severe implications for free speech and privacy not just for visa applicants, but also the people in their social media networks—millions, if not billions of people, given that the “Disclosure Requirement” applies to 14.7 million visa applicants annually.

Since 2019, visa applicants to the United States have been required to disclose social media identifiers they have used in the last five years to the U.S. government. Two U.S.-based organizations that regularly collaborate with documentary filmmakers around the world sued, challenging the policy on First Amendment and other grounds. A federal judge dismissed the case in August 2023, and plaintiffs filed an appeal, asserting that the district court erred in applying an overly deferential standard of review to plaintiffs’ First Amendment claims, among other arguments.

Our amicus brief lays out the privacy interests that visa applicants have in their public-facing social media profiles, the Disclosure Requirement’s chilling effect on the speech of both applicants and their social media connections, and the features of social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and X that reinforce these privacy interests and chilling effects.

Social media paints an alarmingly detailed picture of users’ personal lives, covering far more information that that can be gleaned from a visa application. Although the Disclosure Requirement implicates only “public-facing” social media profiles, registering these profiles still exposes substantial personal information to the U.S. government because of the number of people impacted and the vast amounts of information shared on social media, both intentionally and unintentionally. Moreover, collecting data across social media platforms gives the U.S. government access to a wealth of information that may reveal more in combination than any individual question or post would alone. This risk is even further heightened if government agencies use automated tools to conduct their review—which the State Department has not ruled out and the Department of Homeland Security’s component Customs and Border Protection has already begun doing in its own social media monitoring program. Visa applicants may also unintentionally reveal personal information on their public-facing profiles, either due to difficulties in navigating default privacy setting within or across platforms, or through personal information posted by social media connections rather than the applicants themselves.

The Disclosure Requirement’s infringements on applicants’ privacy are further heightened because visa applicants are subject to social media monitoring not just during the visa vetting process, but even after they arrive in the United States. The policy also allows for public social media information to be stored in government databases for upwards of 100 years and shared with domestic and foreign government entities.  

Because of the Disclosure Requirement’s potential to expose vast amounts of applicants’ personal information, the policy chills First Amendment-protected speech of both the applicant themselves and their social media connections. The Disclosure Requirement allows the government to link pseudonymous accounts to real-world identities, impeding applicants’ ability to exist anonymously in online spaces. In response, a visa applicant might limit their speech, shut down pseudonymous accounts, or disengage from social media altogether. They might disassociate from others for fear that those connections could be offensive to the U.S. government. And their social media connections—including U.S. persons—might limit or sever online connections with friends, family, or colleagues who may be applying for a U.S. visa for fear of being under the government’s watchful eye.  

The Disclosure Requirement hamstrings the ability of visa applicants and their social media connections to freely engage in speech and association online. We hope that the D.C. Circuit reverses the district court’s ruling and remands the case for further proceedings.

A new report reveals that in just three months, from July 1 to September 30, 2023,  the San Francisco Police Department (SFPD) racked up 193 hours and 19 minutes of live access to non-city surveillance cameras. That means for the equivalent of 8 days, police sat behind a desk and tapped into hundreds of cameras, ostensibly including San Francisco’s extensive semi-private security camera networks, to watch city residents, workers, and visitors live. An article by the San Francisco Chronicle analyzing the report also uncovered that the SFPD tapped into these cameras to watch 42 hours of live footage during the Outside Lands music festival.

The city’s Board of Supervisors granted police permission to get live access to these cameras in September 2022 as part of a 15-month pilot program to see if allowing police to conduct widespread, live surveillance would create more safety for all people. However, even before this legislation’s passage, the SFPD covertly used non-city security cameras to monitor protests and other public events. In fact, police and the rich man who funded large networks of semi-private surveillance cameras both claimed publicly that the police department could easily access historic footage of incidents after the fact to help build cases, but could not peer through the cameras live. This claim was debunked by EFF and other investigators who revealed that police requested live access to semi-private cameras to monitor protests, parades, and public events—despite being the type of activity protected by the First Amendment.

When the Board of Supervisors passed this ordinance, which allowed police live access to non-city cameras for criminal investigations (for up to 24 hours after an incident) and for large-scale events, we warned that police would use this newfound power to put huge swaths of the city under surveillance—and we were unfortunately correct.

The most egregious example from the report is the 42 hours of live surveillance conducted during the Outside Lands music festival, which yielded five arrests for theft, pickpocketing, and resisting arrest—and only one of which resulted in the District Attorney’s office filing charges. Despite proponents’ arguments that live surveillance would promote efficiency in policing, in this case, it resulted in a massive use of police resources with little to show for it.

There still remain many unanswered questions about how the police are using these cameras. As the Chronicle article recognized:

…nearly a year into the experiment, it remains unclear just how effective the strategy of using private cameras is in fighting crime in San Francisco, in part because the Police Department’s disclosures don’t provide information on how live footage was used, how it led to arrests and whether police could have used other methods to make those arrests.

The need for greater transparency—and at minimum, for the police to follow all reporting requirements mandated by the non-city surveillance camera ordinance—is crucial to truly evaluate the impact that access to live surveillance has had on policing. In particular, the SFPD’s data fails to make clear how live surveillance helps police prevent or solve crimes in a way that footage after the fact does not. 

Nonetheless, surveillance proponents tout this report as showing that real-time access to non-city surveillance cameras is effective in fighting crime. Many are using this to push for a measure on the March 5, 2024 ballot, Proposition E, which would roll back police accountability measures and grant even more surveillance powers to the SFPD. In particular, Prop E would allow the SFPD a one-year pilot period to test out any new surveillance technology, without any use policy or oversight by the Board of Supervisors. As we’ve stated before, this initiative is bad all around—for policing, for civil liberties, and for all San Franciscans.

Police in San Francisco still don’t get it. They can continue to heap more time, money, and resources into fighting oversight and amassing all sorts of surveillance technology—but at the end of the day, this still won’t help combat the societal issues the city faces. Technologies touted as being useful in extreme cases will just end up as an oversized tool for policing misdemeanors and petty infractions, and will undoubtedly put already-marginalized communities further under the microscope. Just as it’s time to continue asking questions about what live surveillance helps the SFPD accomplish, it’s also time to oppose the erosion of existing oversight by voting NO on Proposition E on March 5. 

The U.S.-Mexico border continues to be one of the most politicized spaces in the country, with leaders in both political parties supporting massive spending on border security, including technological solutions such as the so-called "virtual wall." We spent the year documenting surveillance technologies at the border and the impacts on civil liberties and human rights of those who live in the borderlands.

In early 2023, EFF staff completed the last of three trips to the U.S.-Mexico border, where we met with the residents, activists, humanitarian organizations, law enforcement officials, and journalists whose work is directly impacted by the expansion of surveillance technology in their communities.

Using information from those trips, as well as from public records, satellite imagery, and exploration in virtual reality, we released a map and dataset of more than 390 surveillance towers installed by Customs and Border Protection (CBP) along the U.S.-Mexico border. Our data serves as a living snapshot of the so-called "virtual wall," from the California coast to the lower tip of Texas. The data also lays the foundation for many types of research ranging from border policy to environmental impacts.

We also published an in-depth report on Plataforma Centinela (Sentinel Platform), an aggressive new surveillance system developed by Chihuahua state officials in collaboration with a notorious Mexican security contractor. With tentacles reaching into 13 Mexican cities and a data pipeline that will channel intelligence all the way to Austin, Texas, the monstrous project is unlike anything seen before along the U.S.-Mexico border. The strategy adopts nearly every cutting-edge technology system marketed at law enforcement: 10,000 surveillance cameras, face recognition, automated license plate recognition, real-time crime analytics, a fleet of mobile surveillance vehicles, drone teams and counter-drone teams, and more. It also involves a 20-story high-rise in downtown Ciudad Juarez, known as the Torre Centinela (Sentinel Tower), that will serve as the central node of the surveillance operation. We’ll continue to keep a close eye on the development of this surveillance panopticon.

Finally, we weighed in on the dangers of border surveillance on civil liberties by filing an amicus brief in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit. The case, Phillips v. U.S. Customs and Border Protection, was filed after a 2019 news report revealed the federal government was conducting surveillance of journalists, lawyers, and activists thought to be associated with the so-called “migrant caravan” coming through Central America and Mexico. The lawsuit argues, among other things, that the agencies collected information on the plaintiffs in violation of their First Amendment rights to free speech and free association, and that the illegally obtained information should be “expunged” or deleted from the agencies’ databases. Unfortunately, both the district court and a three-judge panel of the Ninth Circuit ruled against the plaintiffs. The plaintiffs urged the panel to reconsider, or for the full Ninth Circuit to rehear the case. In our amicus brief, we argued that the plaintiffs have privacy interests in personal information compiled by the government, even when the individual bits of data are available from public sources, and especially when the data collection is facilitated by technology. We also argued that, because the government stored plaintiffs’ personal information in various databases, there is a sufficient risk of future harm due to lax policies on data sharing, abuse, or data breach.

Undoubtedly, next year’s election will only heighten the focus on border surveillance technologies in 2024. As we’ve seen time and again, increasing surveillance at the border is a bipartisan strategy, and we don’t expect that to change in the new year.

This blog is part of our Year in Review series. Read other articles about the fight for digital rights in 2023.

EFF filed an amicus brief in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit in a case that has serious implications for people’s First Amendment rights to engage in cross-border journalism and advocacy.

In 2019, the local San Diego affiliate for NBC News broke a shocking story: components of the federal government were conducting surveillance of journalists, lawyers, and activists thought to be associated with the so-called “migrant caravan” coming through Central America and Mexico.

The Inspector General for the Department of Homeland Security, the agency’s watchdog, later reported that the U.S. government shared sensitive information with the Mexican government, and U.S. officials had improperly asked Mexican officials to deny entry into Mexico to Americans to prevent them from doing their jobs.

The ACLU of Southern California, representing three of these individuals, sued Customs & Border Protection (CBP), Immigration & Customs Enforcement (ICE), and the FBI, in a case called Phillips v. CBP. The lawsuit argues, among other things, that the agencies collected information on the plaintiffs in violation of their First Amendment rights to free speech and free association, and that the illegally obtained information should be “expunged” or deleted from the agencies’ databases.

Unfortunately, both the district court and a three-judge panel of the Ninth Circuit ruled against the plaintiffs.

The panel held that the plaintiffs don’t have standing to bring the lawsuit because they don’t have sufficient privacy interests in the personal information the government collected about them, in part because the data was gleaned from public sources such as social media. The panel also held there is no standing because there isn’t a sufficient risk of future harm from the government’s retention of the information.

The plaintiffs recently asked the three-judge panel to reconsider its decision, or alternatively, for the full Ninth Circuit to conduct an en banc review of the panel’s decision. 

In our amicus brief, we argued that the plaintiffs have privacy interests in the personal information the government collected about them, which included details about their First Amendment-protected “political views and associations.” We cited to Supreme Court precedent that has found privacy interests in personal information compiled by the government, even when the individual bits of data are available from public sources, and especially when the data collection is facilitated by technology.

We also argued that, because the government stored plaintiffs’ personal information in various databases, there is a sufficient risk of future harm. These risks include sharing data across agencies or even with other governments due to lax or nonexistent policies on data sharing; government employees abusing individuals’ data; and CBP’s poor track record of keeping digital data safe from data breaches.

We hope that the panel reconsiders its erroneous decision and holds that the plaintiffs have standing to seek expungement of the information the government collected about them; or that the full Ninth Circuit agrees to review the panel’s original decision, to protect Americans’ free speech and privacy rights.

The FBI recently released its proposed budget for 2024, and its request for a massive increase in funding for its DNA database should concern us all. The FBI is asking for an additional $53 million in funding to aid in the collection, organization, and maintenance of its Combined DNA Index System (CODIS) database in the wake of a 2020 Trump Administration rule that requires the Department of Homeland Security to collect DNA from anyone in immigration detention. The database approximately houses the genetic information on over 21 million people, adding an average of 92,000 DNA samples a month in the last year alone–over 10 times the historical sample volume. The FBI’s increased budget request demonstrates that the federal government has, in fact, made good on its projection of collecting over 750,000 new samples annually from immigrant detainees for CODIS. This type of forcible DNA collection and long-term hoarding of genetic identifiers not only erodes civil liberties by exposing individuals to unnecessary and unwarranted government scrutiny, but it also demonstrates the government’s willingness to weaponize biometrics in order to surveil vulnerable communities.

After the Supreme Court’s decision in Maryland v. King (2013), which upheld a Maryland statute to collect DNA from individuals arrested for a violent felony offense, states have rapidly expanded DNA collection to encompass more and more offenses—even when DNA is not implicated in the nature of the offense. For example, in Virginia, the ACLU and other advocates fought against a bill that would have added obstruction of justice and shoplifting as offenses for which DNA could be collected. The federal government’s expansion of DNA collection from all immigrant detainees is the most drastic effort to vacuum up as much genetic information as possible, based on false assumptions linking crime to immigration status despite ample evidence to the contrary.

As we’ve previously cautioned, this DNA collection has serious consequences. Studies have shown that increasing the number of profiles in DNA databases doesn’t solve more crimes. A 2010 RAND report instead stated that the ability of police to solve crimes using DNA is “more strongly related to the number of crime-scene samples than to the number of offender profiles in the database.” Moreover, inclusion in a DNA database increases the likelihood that an innocent person will be implicated in a crime. 

Lastly, this increased DNA collection exacerbates the existing racial disparities in our criminal justice system by disproportionately impacting communities of color. Black and Latino men are already overrepresented in DNA databases. Adding nearly a million new profiles of immigrant detainees annually—who are almost entirely people of color, and the vast majority of whom are Latine—will further skew the 21 million profiles already in CODIS.

We are all at risk when the government increases its infrastructure and capacity for collecting and storing vast quantities of invasive data. With the resources to increase the volume of samples collected, and an ever-broadening scope of when and how law enforcement can collect genetic material from people, we are one step closer to a future in which we all are vulnerable to mass biometric surveillance.