By Andrew C. McCarthy
Saturday, May 23, 2015
The NSA doesn’t even know your name.
But you probably don’t know that. It is amazing how
little the public has learned from the debate the national-security Right has
lost — not is losing but has lost — over the National Security Agency’s
“metadata” program.
The information the NSA has collected in bulk from
telecommunication-service providers does not include the names of telephone
subscribers. They don’t know who you are. It does not include addresses. They
don’t know where you are.
Most people still do not know this, which reflects the
power of the “domestic spying” canard peddled by Rand Paul’s anti-government
extremists and Baby-Boom lefties who apparently still think it’s 1974. The
latter camp includes a three-judge panel of the Second Circuit federal appeals
court in New York, whose ruling that the NSA program is illegal begins with
this astonishing claim: “In the early 1970s, in a climate not altogether unlike
today’s, the intelligence-gathering and surveillance activities of the NSA, the
FBI, and the CIA came under public scrutiny.”
Seriously? A program that creates a database that does
not contain personal identifying information, and that can be accessed only
under a statutory process overseen by a special court that Congress established
precisely in response to the Seventies spy scandals, is reminiscent of the
black-bag tactics that marked those scandals?
As I’ve discussed before, and as National Review’s
editors have acknowledged, there is a perfectly reasonable argument that the
NSA program is illegal. Not that it is unconstitutional, for the Supreme Court
has long held that data about phone calls (as opposed to the content of the
calls) have no Fourth Amendment protection; but that it may violate the
governing statute, Section 215 of the Patriot Act. That is, one could conclude
that, in permitting the NSA to collect millions of phone records, the
aforementioned special court (the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act – or
FISA — Court) unreasonably stretched the governing statute’s concept of what
records count as “relevant” to terrorism investigations.
Nevertheless, the Nixon-era domestic spying was an
outrage — one that padded the impeachment charges against Nixon and caused many
worthy terrorism cases to be dropped — because it was targeted surveillance
(including break-ins and thefts) conducted against governing law and without
judicial warrant. The NSA program is anonymous surveillance sought pursuant to
governing law and permitted by judicial warrant.
For what it’s worth, I think highly of Jerry Lynch, the
judge who wrote the main Second Circuit opinion — he was my superior as
criminal division chief at the U.S. attorney’s office in Manhattan in the early
Nineties. But the analogy of the NSA program to early 1970s
intelligence-gathering is a distortion, not an argument.
In point of fact, there is more personally identifying
information about American citizens in the phone book than in the NSA program.
Have you seen phone directories lately? It’s not like the old days when, as a
prosecutor, I kept them stacked next to my desk and often flipped through them
. . . yes . . . without a search warrant.
(Don’t tell Rand.) For years now, they’ve been online — see, for example,
whitepages.com. (“Find neighbors, distant relatives, or anyone in the country,”
the site brags, just by typing in the name or a zip code.)
It was when I was in college, if distant memory serves,
that students were asked to submit exams not under their names but under Social
Security numbers or student-identification numbers. The idea was that the
professor could not discriminate against you because he or she did not know
whose paper was being graded. To them, you were just a number and grading was a
dry exercise of comparing answers to questions. Somehow, the same kind of
anonymity that was impersonal and desirable in the context of exam-scoring has,
in the context of impersonal surveillance, been warped into a deeply intrusive
invasion of personal privacy. This can’t happen with the NSA program. It is
nothing more than a bank of numbers. A huge bank, to be sure . . . just as the
online telephone directories are huge databases. All the NSA program can tell
the government, though, is if a number called or was called by another number,
at what time, and for how long. It cannot tell them that you called another
number — to figure that out, they need to take other, legally regulated steps
extraneous to the program.
It is an absurd notion — but it does not seem absurd to
most Americans because the “domestic spying” fiction has not been effectively
rebutted. Though he often chooses to be toxic and divisive, President Obama is
a gifted speaker. Think of the good that might have been done by one simple,
unapologetic speech that explained the lengths to which the NSA has gone not to
violate the privacy of Americans.
Or maybe not. The “domestic spying” fears have a
resonance they would not otherwise have because the Obama administration abuses
its powers. It has an undeniable track record of using the IRS, the Justice
Department, and other federal agencies to persecute political opponents. While
serving as Obama’s secretary of state, Hillary Clinton, the Democrats’ likely
presidential nominee by acclamation, even threatened to use “old fashioned
techniques of peer-pressure and shaming” in order to suppress constitutionally
protected speech disfavored by the administration.
The public does not trust this government to refrain from
abusing its powers. If you tell people there are no known cases of the NSA
using the metadata program to spy on Americans, they understandably assume that
such cases simply haven’t come to light yet, not that they haven’t happened.
There is a strong counter-case to be made. Rand Paul is
laughably wrong when he insists the NSA program violates the Fourth Amendment —
something even the Second Circuit did not claim. Like progressives, Senator Paul
likes to make up his Constitution as he goes along. Progressives claim the
document is “organic,” so at least they are honest about the fact that they are
changing it — not putting on “constitutionalist” airs as Paul does.
Yet the NSA program’s advocates have failed to offer a
compelling defense. We have fallen into the trap of arguing the case on the
opposition’s terms. They claim that the program has not stopped a single
terrorist attack. Program advocates counter that it has, but this is not only hard
to prove, it’s beside the point.
First, intelligence doesn’t work that way: It is a mosaic
drawing on several sources, and it is rare that one piece of it completes the
picture. More important, the principal purpose of the program is not to thwart
individual attacks but to map terror cells and uncover their support networks.
Consequently, the program could be quite valuable even if it never stopped a
single terrorist attack. That is vital at a time when the jihadist threat is
intensifying but gaps in our intelligence collection are widening because of
wrong-headed Obama policies (e.g., the decrease in interrogations of captured
terrorists and the discouragement of focus by our intelligence analysts on
jihadist ideology).
Advocates have also been counterproductively guarded in
explaining why they need a full dataset: namely (we can infer), so they can run
algorithms against it, based on known terrorist communication patterns, and
thus discover latent terrorist communications. If this were better understood,
most Americans would no more object to the anonymous storage of their phone
number’s records (which cannot be further accessed without judicial
supervision) than they do to the government’s possession of phone books that
list their names and addresses (which are regularly accessed with no judicial
supervision). Almost all of us would like to help the government identify and
stop terrorists, especially if there is no risk to ourselves in doing so.
The reluctance to talk openly about intelligence methods
is understandable. Whatever the government tells the public it perforce tells
the terrorists. But it’s not like transcontinental jihadist networks have an
option to cease communicating just because they know our government is
watching. What does the NSA gain by preserving the secrets of its methodology
if the cost is losing the program?
With the clock running down on a June 1 deadline when the
Patriot Act provision that authorizes the NSA program is set to expire, the
options are not good. Congressional advocates of the metadata program want it
reauthorized, but they’ve lost the debate and the prospects for a quick
turnaround are nil. The compromise USA Freedom Act, overwhelmingly approved in
the House, will effectively dismantle the program because it leaves the records
in the possession of the telecoms and does not require that they be preserved
for any length of time. But some telecoms will preserve records, which is
better than nothing; and although the USA Freedom Act leaves much to be
desired, accepting it would pave the way for approval of other significant
Patriot Act provisions that would otherwise expire. The FBI is justifiably
concerned that the authorities contained in these provisions, which are
uncontroversial, could be lost in the ongoing standoff.
The best thing that could happen in this bleak scenario
would be a brief extension that would enable program advocates to do better
than the feeble job they’ve done to date defending the program. In the
alternative, it is nearing time to hold our noses, accept the USA Freedom Act,
and get cracking on a compelling political and legal argument to restore the
program — one that can change minds in Congress and be signed by the next
president.
The depiction of national-security agents who are trying
to protect American lives as seventies-style rogues tearing the Constitution to
bits is a smear. But a smear is something, and something always beats nothing.
The metadata debate is not over, but this battle is. It’s time to accept defeat
gracefully, get as much as we still can for national defense, and resolve to do
better in the next round.
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