Shadow justice secretary Dominic Grieve threw an interesting point into the battle over government databases last week when he acknowledged their relationship with risk.
In his speech at the launch of the Conservatives' new policy paper, Reversing the Rise of the Surveillance State, he made a statement that is quite bold in the prevailing climate: "We can never eliminate all risk; it is part and parcel of ordinary life."
The government has come under sustained attack from the opposition parties and the privacy lobby for its tendency towards building large central databases to deal with perceived threats. The National DNA Database includes information on everybody arrested in England and Wales to help solve crimes. The e-Borders programme will monitor everyone's foreign travel movements in an effort to fight crime and terrorism. The ContactPoint database will include information on every child in England in the cause of child protection. The roots of all of these lay in an effort to eliminate risk.
It is easy to see how it got here, when it is part of a broader culture that shows little tolerance of any risk. Whenever there is a high profile tragedy such as the death of Victoria Climbie, or an outrage like the 7 July bombings, the actions of the authorities come under scrutiny and people begin to say it must not happen again. Media commentators usually lead the demands, but politicians are often quick to lend their voices to the clamour for action.
The present government has placed a heavy emphasis on a need to collect a lot more information and share it more widely, giving the specialists more chance of spotting the warning signs and taking appropriate action. It roughly equates to saying "Give us the data and we can minimise the risk".
Privacy lobbyists tend to miss the connection, focusing on their claims that the policy creates a threat to civil liberties, but Grieve's statement brought it into the open. It places the Conservatives in a position where they are prepared to reverse the trend towards big databases and collect less personal information, but acknowledging that sooner or later something horrible will happen.
It may require some bravery to stick by this. Imagine a scenario a couple of years in the future in which a Conservative government has made good its pledge to abolish ContactPoint and a child dies due to sustained abuse. The press loudly demands an explanation, and somebody claims that the database would have made it easier for a social worker to identify a threat and take action. A minister would find it difficult to tell the public the risk was acceptable in the name of privacy.
You could argue this would be unfair in reducing the question to absolutes, but that is often the way with such emotive issues. Grieve has taken a realistic position on the issue, acknowledging that there is a balance to be found that does not eliminate one or the other, and stated it honestly. We hope it does not create a rod for a future minister's back.
Mark Say is senior editor of Kable
