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Eyes on the street
As Toronto gets its first police surveillance cameras, PETER CHENEY asks: Are we ready for our close-up?
PETER CHENEY
The place where Jane Creba was killed has returned to normal, Yonge Street-style: Students rush past a new Gwen Stefani billboard, a homeless man holds out a paper cup and a young man with a fade haircut stares at a pair of LeBron basketball shoes though the window of Foot Locker, unaware that he is standing on the spot where Ms. Creba was shot to death last Boxing Day.
"Right here?" he says when he learns that he is at a former homicide scene. "Wow." The young man is also unaware (until a visitor points it out) that he is being watched by a police video camera mounted on a pole across the street.
"I'm on?" he asks. "When did they put that in?"
"This week," he's told.
The young man waves at the camera and walks away. The camera, at the corner of Gould, is one of three that have been installed on Yonge Street, in a police experiment that has drawn praise from some (including the Yonge Street business association), and condemnation from others, who see them as the first step toward a state where citizens are watched and controlled by Big Brother.
"Privacy is sacred to our democracy, and this erodes it," says Varda Burstyn, a cultural critic and public policy consultant who is now working on a documentary about George Orwell. "Three cameras isn't a big deal. But the process is."
The Yonge Street cameras went up this week and will stay in place until Jan. 7 as part of a police pilot project (several others are in the works). They overlook a street scene that has seen its share of violence. Just last month, shots were fired from a car at Yonge and Shuter. Ms. Creba was killed and several others were wounded when gunfire broke out between rival gangs on Boxing Day last year.
The investigation into Ms. Creba's shooting relied heavily on footage from security cameras in nearby buildings. Although they led to the identification of several suspects, none of the videos offered a clear, overall view. The new police cameras, which are trained on the street and feed computers that can record 72 hours of activity, could have provided just that, police say.
"These are dispassionate electronic witnesses," says Toronto police spokesman Mark Pugash. "They record exactly what happens in front of them. Having them there would have helped."
The power of video as an investigative tool was clearly demonstrated earlier this year. When Downsview Secondary School student Danilo Celestino was stabbed to death on April 20, 2006, police seized video footage from cameras at the school and a nearby Coffee Time, and released images of a suspect. Forty-five minutes later, the suspect's lawyer called police to arrange his surrender.
Fredrik Nilsson, general manager of Axis Communications, one of the world's largest manufacturers of video surveillance systems, acknowledges that some see the spectre of Big Brother in his company's products, but he says the benefits far outweigh any drawbacks.
"Cameras help solve crimes," he said from Boston. "People are in favour of that."
A quick survey on Yonge Street this week supported his view. "I like them," lawyer Allan Ritchie said as he headed to work. "There's always a tradeoff between civil liberties and privacy, but I think this will be fine. I don't think there's going to be a lot of protest. We're living in a new reality."
The market for surveillance cameras has boomed, according to Mr. Nilsson and other experts, with global sales estimated at up to $15-billion annually -- and demand is growing by 10 to 15 per cent every year. Mr. Nilsson's company has worked with a number of police forces (not including Toronto) on the installation of surveillance systems with capabilities that were once the realm of science fiction. For example, the Dallas police force has surveillance cameras that send a live video feed through a cellular uplink. Other cities have cameras that respond to motion or sound -- Chicago now has cameras with software that detects the sound of gunfire, and automatically trains the camera on its source.
The world's most intensive video surveillance operation is found in England, where there are now more than 4.2 million cameras. Video surveillance gained popularity with British security officials during the IRA crisis, and has grown sharply in the post-9/11 era. Cameras played a key role in the investigation of the 2005 London subway bombings.
Not everyone has welcomed England's surveillance boom. Earlier this year, journalist Henry Porter produced Suspect Nation, a documentary that showed how security measures like video surveillance, had eroded civil liberties.
Suspect Nation detailed some of the Orwellian possibilities that security officials have considered, including a program that would track every car trip in England by using licence-plate recognition software.
Critics of technology-based security systems believe the drawbacks far outweigh any benefits. The data collected could easily be misused, they say, and serious criminals can effortlessly evade electronic oversight.
"Cameras don't catch the big fish, only the small ones," Ms. Burstyn says. In her view, Western society has gradually slid toward the dystopian future predicted by Orwell through its increasing emphasis on technology and control. "There are always more cameras and more prisons," she says. "This is not the path we should be going down. What we should be focusing on is prevention and rehabilitation.
"Once you start down this road, it's hard to stop. You go from a dozen cameras to a hundred, from a hundred to a thousand, and from a thousand to a million."
Ms. Burstyn says the British experience should serve as a cautionary tale for Canadians as they ponder the installation of police cameras. She notes that a British television station now runs street camera footage as reality TV-style entertainment.
"It doesn't sound like much," she says. "But we need to be very careful here. There may be perverse and unintended consequences that will come back to haunt us."
Other pundits take a different view. David Brin, an American writer best known for a work called The Transparent Society, argues that the technology will have an effect far different than the one foreseen by Orwell. Instead of creating enslaved drones, he believes, surveillance may make us more empowered as citizens by providing a clear, dispassionate view of events.
"It is already far too late to prevent the invasion of cameras and databases," Mr. Brin wrote in The Transparent Society. "The djinn cannot be crammed back into the bottle. No matter how many laws are passed, it will prove quite impossible to legislate away the new tools and techniques. They are here to stay. Light is going to shine into every aspect of our lives."
Those who share Mr. Brin's viewpoint to events like the beating of Rodney King by Los Angeles police officers. If the crime hadn't been caught on tape, Mr. King might never have succeeded in bringingcharges against the officers involved.
Mr. Brin, whose website includes footage of him in his San Diego home office, said in a recent interview that surveillance will lead to a new age of accountability. "What people really want is to be empowered to catch the Peeping Toms," he said, "to hold accountable any elite that might abuse power, whether corporate or governmental."
And in Toronto, many people seem prepared to accept that view. Toronto bartender Chris Frizzel saw the Yonge Street cameras for the first time this week as she walked north with a friend. After being told of a camera's presence, she delivered her opinion: "I say watch away, baby. I've got nothing to hide."
Eyes on the street
As Toronto gets its first police surveillance cameras, PETER CHENEY asks: Are we ready for our close-up?
PETER CHENEY
The place where Jane Creba was killed has returned to normal, Yonge Street-style: Students rush past a new Gwen Stefani billboard, a homeless man holds out a paper cup and a young man with a fade haircut stares at a pair of LeBron basketball shoes though the window of Foot Locker, unaware that he is standing on the spot where Ms. Creba was shot to death last Boxing Day.
"Right here?" he says when he learns that he is at a former homicide scene. "Wow." The young man is also unaware (until a visitor points it out) that he is being watched by a police video camera mounted on a pole across the street.
"I'm on?" he asks. "When did they put that in?"
"This week," he's told.
The young man waves at the camera and walks away. The camera, at the corner of Gould, is one of three that have been installed on Yonge Street, in a police experiment that has drawn praise from some (including the Yonge Street business association), and condemnation from others, who see them as the first step toward a state where citizens are watched and controlled by Big Brother.
"Privacy is sacred to our democracy, and this erodes it," says Varda Burstyn, a cultural critic and public policy consultant who is now working on a documentary about George Orwell. "Three cameras isn't a big deal. But the process is."
The Yonge Street cameras went up this week and will stay in place until Jan. 7 as part of a police pilot project (several others are in the works). They overlook a street scene that has seen its share of violence. Just last month, shots were fired from a car at Yonge and Shuter. Ms. Creba was killed and several others were wounded when gunfire broke out between rival gangs on Boxing Day last year.
The investigation into Ms. Creba's shooting relied heavily on footage from security cameras in nearby buildings. Although they led to the identification of several suspects, none of the videos offered a clear, overall view. The new police cameras, which are trained on the street and feed computers that can record 72 hours of activity, could have provided just that, police say.
"These are dispassionate electronic witnesses," says Toronto police spokesman Mark Pugash. "They record exactly what happens in front of them. Having them there would have helped."
The power of video as an investigative tool was clearly demonstrated earlier this year. When Downsview Secondary School student Danilo Celestino was stabbed to death on April 20, 2006, police seized video footage from cameras at the school and a nearby Coffee Time, and released images of a suspect. Forty-five minutes later, the suspect's lawyer called police to arrange his surrender.
Fredrik Nilsson, general manager of Axis Communications, one of the world's largest manufacturers of video surveillance systems, acknowledges that some see the spectre of Big Brother in his company's products, but he says the benefits far outweigh any drawbacks.
"Cameras help solve crimes," he said from Boston. "People are in favour of that."
A quick survey on Yonge Street this week supported his view. "I like them," lawyer Allan Ritchie said as he headed to work. "There's always a tradeoff between civil liberties and privacy, but I think this will be fine. I don't think there's going to be a lot of protest. We're living in a new reality."
The market for surveillance cameras has boomed, according to Mr. Nilsson and other experts, with global sales estimated at up to $15-billion annually -- and demand is growing by 10 to 15 per cent every year. Mr. Nilsson's company has worked with a number of police forces (not including Toronto) on the installation of surveillance systems with capabilities that were once the realm of science fiction. For example, the Dallas police force has surveillance cameras that send a live video feed through a cellular uplink. Other cities have cameras that respond to motion or sound -- Chicago now has cameras with software that detects the sound of gunfire, and automatically trains the camera on its source.
The world's most intensive video surveillance operation is found in England, where there are now more than 4.2 million cameras. Video surveillance gained popularity with British security officials during the IRA crisis, and has grown sharply in the post-9/11 era. Cameras played a key role in the investigation of the 2005 London subway bombings.
Not everyone has welcomed England's surveillance boom. Earlier this year, journalist Henry Porter produced Suspect Nation, a documentary that showed how security measures like video surveillance, had eroded civil liberties.
Suspect Nation detailed some of the Orwellian possibilities that security officials have considered, including a program that would track every car trip in England by using licence-plate recognition software.
Critics of technology-based security systems believe the drawbacks far outweigh any benefits. The data collected could easily be misused, they say, and serious criminals can effortlessly evade electronic oversight.
"Cameras don't catch the big fish, only the small ones," Ms. Burstyn says. In her view, Western society has gradually slid toward the dystopian future predicted by Orwell through its increasing emphasis on technology and control. "There are always more cameras and more prisons," she says. "This is not the path we should be going down. What we should be focusing on is prevention and rehabilitation.
"Once you start down this road, it's hard to stop. You go from a dozen cameras to a hundred, from a hundred to a thousand, and from a thousand to a million."
Ms. Burstyn says the British experience should serve as a cautionary tale for Canadians as they ponder the installation of police cameras. She notes that a British television station now runs street camera footage as reality TV-style entertainment.
"It doesn't sound like much," she says. "But we need to be very careful here. There may be perverse and unintended consequences that will come back to haunt us."
Other pundits take a different view. David Brin, an American writer best known for a work called The Transparent Society, argues that the technology will have an effect far different than the one foreseen by Orwell. Instead of creating enslaved drones, he believes, surveillance may make us more empowered as citizens by providing a clear, dispassionate view of events.
"It is already far too late to prevent the invasion of cameras and databases," Mr. Brin wrote in The Transparent Society. "The djinn cannot be crammed back into the bottle. No matter how many laws are passed, it will prove quite impossible to legislate away the new tools and techniques. They are here to stay. Light is going to shine into every aspect of our lives."
Those who share Mr. Brin's viewpoint to events like the beating of Rodney King by Los Angeles police officers. If the crime hadn't been caught on tape, Mr. King might never have succeeded in bringingcharges against the officers involved.
Mr. Brin, whose website includes footage of him in his San Diego home office, said in a recent interview that surveillance will lead to a new age of accountability. "What people really want is to be empowered to catch the Peeping Toms," he said, "to hold accountable any elite that might abuse power, whether corporate or governmental."
And in Toronto, many people seem prepared to accept that view. Toronto bartender Chris Frizzel saw the Yonge Street cameras for the first time this week as she walked north with a friend. After being told of a camera's presence, she delivered her opinion: "I say watch away, baby. I've got nothing to hide."