Long before facial recognition software and mass surveillance, many cultures understood photography as an act of power – something taken, not given. Whether framed as spiritual loss or cultural violation, the underlying concern was the same: loss of control over one’s image.
Today, with the rapid advancement of technology, we share our images as a matter of routine. Many of us have granted Apple or Google permission to use facial recognition to unlock our phones and log into apps. Passwords were annoying and easy to forget; biometric shortcuts felt effortless. Few paused to consider what we traded for convenience: a biometric identifier that cannot be changed if it is copied, leaked, or repurposed.
And it doesn’t stop at our phones. Airports use facial recognition for identity checks and boarding, while similar technology is also used in venues, retail, workplaces, banks, health systems, and campuses – each sold as a means of improving efficiency. Together, they normalize constant monitoring.
That tension – between privacy and public safety – has arrived in Durango with the community debate over Flock Safety cameras (Herald, Dec. 7, Dec. 12). This is not a theoretical discussion. Flock cameras automatically photograph vehicles, log time and location data, upload it to a cloud-based network, and make it searchable. In Durango, the Police Department has installed 21 cameras at major entry points to town, under contracts totaling $169,050.
Start with what’s reasonable. Cameras in public spaces are not new. Vehicles traveling on public roadways expose license plates to anyone nearby. Camera footage can also be invaluable in severe cases – when a child is missing, a violent suspect is at large, as in the Boston Marathon bombing, or a hit-and-run leaves someone injured. Few would argue that such tools should never be used.
But usefulness does not erase the central concern: systems that collect and store location data on everyone, not just suspects, fundamentally change the relationship between residents and government. That is why the refrain–” If you’re not doing anything wrong, why worry? “ – misses the point.
Civil liberties are not about hiding wrongdoing. They exist to protect people before harm occurs and power is misused. They protect domestic violence survivors trying not to be tracked, immigrant families wary of data-sharing pipelines, patients traveling for medical care, journalists, and ordinary residents who object to constant monitoring.
The Durango debate shows why skepticism is rational. Records requests revealed that the Durango Police Department shared Flock data with hundreds of agencies, including 60 that cooperate with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The department says it removed those agencies once the issue was identified, prohibits immigration-related searches, audits access, and retains data for only 30 days. Those steps matter – and the department deserves credit for responding.
But safeguards should not depend on residents discovering problems after the fact. Good intentions today do not guarantee good use tomorrow. Technologies persist, administrations change, and data tends to find new uses.
That lesson is playing out nationally. Colorado Secretary of State Jena Griswold (Herald, Dec. 7) and New Mexico election officials have refused Trump administration demands for sensitive voter data (Tri-City Record, Dec. 3), including driver’s license numbers and partial Social Security numbers, citing a lack of clarity about how the information would be used or protected. Their pushback underscores a broader point: mass data collection, paired with a vague purpose, poses a civil-liberties risk, whether the data is written information or images captured by cameras.
Concerns intensify at Fort Lewis College, where in September, Flock cameras were mounted high on poles and capture broader activity in the name of campus safety. The college’s faculty and staff were only notified after their installation, and students were never consulted or notified. The Latinx-Serving Working Group has opposed their use, citing risks to vulnerable communities (Herald, Dec. 10). Campus safety measures that alter daily life should not be implemented quietly, without robust consultation and consent.
So how do we thread the needle – acknowledging real public-safety benefits without drifting toward a surveillance state?
Durango should insist on clear guardrails: transparency first, building on the city’s existing transparency portal – which outlines policies, prohibited uses, data retention, and usage statistics – with more robust public reporting; strict sharing limits with named partners only; narrow data retention with no loopholes for vendor reuse; and higher standards for non-emergency searches, including warrants or documented justification.
Public safety and privacy are not mutually exclusive – but trust cannot be assumed. It must be earned through transparency, limits, and accountability strong enough to protect everyone, including those who have done nothing wrong.
