![President Obama was described as "impatient" and "disengaged" during briefings on last year's Syria crisis. That sense of detachment lead him to a constructive resolution of the NSA snooping controversy. [Credit: Pumas Unleashed]](https://i0.wp.com/www.dougsbriefcase.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/credit-pumas-unleashed.jpg?resize=300%2C181)
President Obama was described as “impatient” and “disengaged” during briefings on last year’s Syria crisis. That sense of detachment could lead him to a constructive resolution of the NSA snooping controversy. [Credit: Pumas Unleashed]
Even as the debate about arming the [Syrian] rebels took on a new urgency, Mr. Obama rarely voiced strong opinions during senior staff meetings. But current and former officials said his body language was telling: he often appeared impatient or disengaged while listening to the debate, sometimes scrolling through messages on his BlackBerry or slouching and chewing gum.
New York Times, October 22, 2013
A President has enormous demands on his time and attention. He can’t focus on everything. He must choose. President Obama, if the New York Times account is to be believed, chose to be “impatient” and “disengaged” as his advisers last year presented him with options on Syria, perhaps explaining why he followed what the Times termed “an uncertain path amid Syrian bloodshed.”
The disengagement from matters of national security that served him so poorly throughout the Syrian affair might uniquely suit him to resolve the controversy over whether the government should continue to gather large volumes of data about US citizens.
The NSA’s telephony metadata collection program, recently renewed for an additional three months by the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court [FISC], has been contested in Congress and the courts since it was made public by former NSA contractor Edward Snowden last June. Federal District Court Judge Richard Leon last month found the program likely unconstitutional but stayed his own order to terminate program, pending appeal. The government on Friday formally asked an appeals panel to overturn Leon’s ruling.
Late last month, in a separate but related case, another federal judge upheld the program. Judge William Pauley’s opinion is a curious one, devoting just 7 of its 54 pages to the question of whether collecting phone records on all Americans violates the Fourth Amendment’s prohibition against unreasonable searches and seizures. For Pauley, the Supreme Court’s 1979 ruling in Smith v. Maryland justifies that program. In that case, police obtained the phone records of a robbery suspect who had made threatening and sexually harassing phone calls to his victim, helping them obtain a conviction. The court ruled that the suspect had no reasonable expectation of privacy with respect to those phone records. The facts in that case are indistinguishable from those surrounding the NSA program, according to Pauley, despite the fact that the program involves what he termed “the collection of breathtaking amounts of information” [p. 42].
Having brushed aside constitutional concerns, Pauley devotes much of his opinion to defending the program, beginning with an account of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Critical information in advance of the attacks, he opines, “would have furnished the missing information and might have permitted the NSA to notify the [FBI] of the fact that [one of the suspects] was calling the Yemeni safe house from inside the United States” [pp 1–2]
That speculation – that the government might have acquired information that it might have used to foil an act of unspeakable destruction – permeates the ruling. The program, Pauley writes:
Vacuums up information about virtually every telephone call to, from or within the United States. That is by design, as it allows the NSA to detect relationships so attenuated and ephemeral they would otherwise escape notice. As the September 11th attacks demonstrate, the cost of missing such a thread can be horrific. Technology allowed al-Qaeda to operate decentralized and plot international terrorist attacks remotely. The bulk telephony metadata collection program represents the Government’s counter-punch: connecting fragmented and fleeting communications to re-construct and eliminate al-Qaeda’s terror network [p. 52].
I’ve written previously about why I believe the program to be unconstitutional. The Fourth Amendment secures our right “to be secure in [our] persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures.” Before collecting information about us, the government must show “probable cause” in order to obtain a warrant “particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.” Warrants issued by the secret FISC are anything but specific. They authorize, as Judge Leon wrote, “continuous, daily searches of virtually every American citizen without any particularized suspicion” [p. 58], a power that “no court has ever recognized.”
Constitutional infirmities aside, Pauley’s opinion is interesting for the depth of its faith in the government. The government must cast “a wide net that could find and isolate gossamer contacts among suspected terrorists in an ocean of seemingly disconnected data,” Pauley writes [p. 2]. Given enough data, enough information, enough knowledge, the government will “eliminate al-Qaeda’s terror network.”
That confidence seems to be widely shared among current and former intelligence officials. The former deputy director of the CIA Counterterrorist Center, Philip Mudd, recently took to the pages of the Wall Street Journal to praise the government’s growing efforts to follow the digital trails we leave whenever we make a phone call, send a text, use social media or connect to a website.
Human surveillance operations are slow, inefficient and costly. And they have a higher risk of missing members of the network. The fastest, most efficient solution to mapping a network of conspirators lies in following digital connections among people. And as digital trails expand, digital network mapping will increase in value. … Our digital trails will grow as more of our lives appear in bits and bytes, in records held by tomorrow’s Amazons and Facebooks. And we know that to piece together networks, law enforcement and intelligence will use these data streams and need historical data to do so.
Mudd illuminates the motivation behind the massive data collection scheme: to stop terrorists, government requires a form of omniscience. In his estimation, traditional intelligence tools are of little value. Surveillance based on particular and reasonable suspicion – he cites the example of Somalian expats who pay cash for one-way tickets to countries bordering Somalia – just doesn’t cut it anymore. The government must “map[] digital interactions among people.” All people. And it must retain that data forever, the better to discern suspicious patterns.
Mudd and Pauley betray an excessive reliance on government’s capabilities and goodness. Like progressives who argue for more centralized control of the economy, Mudd believes that government can improve our lives only if it acquires more knowledge and power. The problem with this reasoning is that it presumes an all-knowing and all-competent government — one that can collect data on hundreds of millions (and perhaps billions) of people, mine it, identify and follow up on every solid piece of evidence, find the bad guys and arrest them before they act.
That government exists only in the realm of imagination; in the real world, government is populated with normal human beings who often miss the most obvious trails of suspicion that terrorists create before they carry out their attacks. Consider last year’s Boston Marathon bombings. Acting on a 2011 request from the Russian government, the FBI:
Checked US government databases and other information to look for such things as derogatory telephone communications, possible use of online sites associated with the promotion of radical activity, associations with other persons of interest, travel history and plans, and education history. The FBI also interviewed Tamerlan Tsarnaev and family members.
After all of that, the agency concluded Tsarnaev posed no threat. Two years later, he and his brother committed the atrocity. That is not to fault the FBI or others engaged in government counterterrorism. The jobs they do are enormously difficult and enormously valuable and they are bound to miss things from time to time. It is only meant to illustrate that the government’s databases and surveillance capabilities, even when appropriately directed at an individual suspected of terrorist inclinations, don’t work the way that Mudd and Pauley imagine that they do.
That’s also true of terrorist attacks on overseas US facilities. The New York Times last week ran a major story on the September 2012 terrorist attack in Benghazi. Much has been made of its report that the attackers, who stormed the compound with Kalashnikovs in their initial assault, had seen a YouTube video that many Muslims found offensive and that they were not associated with al-Qaeda, but with a lesser known terrorist enterprise called Ansar al-Sharia. The relevant point here is that sympathetic Libyans had warned US officials of an imminent terrorist attack, warnings that were overlooked.
This is not to fault anyone who was aware of the danger and failed to take appropriate measures that would have spared the lives of four Americans. People make mistakes. It is only to say that the Benghazi attacks did not occur because our government knew too little. It had the information it needed to avert the attack and it acquired it without violating the civil liberties of hundreds of millions of Americans.
The government didn’t need my phone records to know that Tamerlan Tsarnaev was dangerous or that terrorists might attack our Benghazi facility. Those attacks were successful because government, like any other human enterprise, is fallible. Data — even in unimaginably large doses — doesn’t cure fallibility. A government that overlooks clues in Benghazi and Boston will overlook them in the troves of phone records it inappropriately amasses on innocent citizens. All the more reason why government shouldn’t breach its constitutional limits in combating terrorism.
A recent report of a Presidential advisory group recommends that government conform its data-gathering to those limts. They called, among other things, for legislation to limit the ability of the FISC to issue sweeping subpoenas (p. 86) and to end the NSA’s data collection program (p. 115). The group suggested instead that phone companies be required to retain records (just as the government, for example, requires individuals and businesses to retain their tax records and doctors to retain medical records) in searchable form. When the government has probable cause to believe that a particular individual may be implicated in potential terrorist activities, it could obtain a warrant from the FISC permitting it to search the phone company’s records for information about that individual. Such a change would, the group argues, allow the government to pursue counterterrorist investigations without violating civil liberties.
The group’s advice affords the President a moment of opportunity. He is said to be preparing an announcement, perhaps as soon as this month, in response to the report. He should embrace its recommendations to rein in the FISC and end NSA’s data collection program. Since he has often treated Congress as a superfluous arm of government, he should implement those recommendations by executive action, rather than relying on Congress to enact a contentious law in a toxic political environment.
Such an order would be far more constitutionally sound than his many improvisations on the health care law. He does, after all, head the federal government’s executive branch. He can direct the Justice Department not to seek sweeping warrants from the FISC. And since no law requires the NSA to collect everyone’s phone records, he can order the program’s termination.
President Obama seems more emotionally distant on matters of national security than his predecessors. That detachment could serve him well if he channels it into requiring the government to cease and desist from its unlawful snooping activities.