
When Henry duPont mounted a webcam on his Rhode Island home last fall, he only wanted to provide his neighbors with a scenic view of their community. Eight months later, his snapshots sparked a legal quarrel over privacy in the Information Age. This controversy demonstrates the inherent conflict between privacy rights and free speech.
DuPont is a proud resident of Block Island, a sleepy hamlet resting 12 miles off the seaboard. Pointed at the local harbor, his camera relayed scenic pictures to blockisland.com, an informational web site for islanders and tourists. The photos, which included a view of the local ferry terminal, became immediately popular, in part because they helped locals check whether the mainland boats were running. “People love the camera,” duPont told the New York Times. Unfortunately, the ferry operator doesn’t share this enthusiasm.
Claiming that the camera violates the privacy of its operations and passengers, who sometimes appear as tiny, unidentifiable specks in the photos, Interstate Navigation threatened Mr. duPont with a lawsuit in April. “We’re very concerned about the privacy of our customers,” said Michael McElroy, a lawyer for the company. “They are on private property and they are in front of a camera they didn’t know of.” But is duPont’s camera really illegal, or is it legally protected speech?
In cases like this, U.S. law almost universally favors the First Amendment. Contrary to popular belief, U.S. citizens have few explicit privacy rights. The law does allow individuals a protected zone of privacy in their own home, but this does not extend to places open to public viewing, even if those places are private property. This is because privacy rights are automatically in tension with free speech and a free press.
A New York Court of Appeals 1978 ruling in Arrington v. New York Times demonstrates this principle at work. Clarence Arrington, a private citizen, filed suit after the Times Magazine—without permission—took his picture and featured it on its cover. The Court rejected Arrington’s claim that his privacy had been violated, ruling on First Amendment grounds that the possibility of such a photograph is simply “the price every person must be prepared to pay for a society in which information and opinion flow freely.”
This decision wisely recognized that even seemingly straightforward privacy cases could hinder free speech. But, while the courts carefully preserved the balance between privacy and free speech, privacy advocates are working to upset it.
Robert Ellis Smith, publisher of the Privacy Times and, coincidentally, a resident of Block Island, agrees with the accusations against Mr. duPont. “Webcam advocates say there is no right to privacy in a public place,” he argues. “That’s a myth I want to shoot down. Clearly there is a privacy interest.” Smith’s view, which fundamentally misinterprets U.S. privacy law, reflects the privacy advocates’ belief that Americans need strict new privacy rights.
Advocates frequently argue that individuals deserve a property right to personal information. To gather or distribute this information, others would have to gain explicit consent. Such rights seem appealing in regard to annoying direct marketers but become dangerous when applied to cases like Henry duPont’s.
If Mr. duPont was legally barred from broadcasting images of a public place, it would have a chilling effect on both the Internet and the First Amendment. One reason for the web’s dynamism is that it allows users a forum to broadcast their opinions about the world and one another. Expanded privacy rights would render much of this communication illegal, establishing politicians and judges as arbiters of online speech.
Such rights would slowly encroach upon the First Amendment itself. All forms of expression would eventually be affected. For example, courts would have greater authority to label newspaper articles or photographs “not newsworthy,” thereby restricting the press’s ability to report on citizens and events.
For better or worse, it now appears that no court will rule on the duPont case. Instead of responding to Interstate’s legal challenge, Mr. duPont has turned his camera away from the harbor. “I feel strongly about First Amendment issues,” he explained. “But I’m personally not willing to be exposed to litigation. It would cost a couple thousand dollars to prove I’m right. I can’t afford to.”
Even without a court showdown, his experience demands that we approach new privacy laws with caution. Privacy advocates are wrong to dismiss the claim that extended privacy laws and free speech can peacefully coexist. Just ask Henry duPont
Justin Matlick is a Senior Fellow for the Center for Freedom and Technology at the California-based Pacific Research Institute.