> For example, it wouldn’t be OK to torture someone who
> insists that torture doesn’t cause pain and suffering,
> just to teach them a lesson.

I’m not entirely sure that I agree with this. First, it’s sort of a bad example, since the degree of harm in a torture scenario is not anywhere near on the same scale as, say, disclosing that you collected a dossier on someone (or even, for that matter, disclosing the contents of the dossier). Second, just like in science, in public policy decisions extraordinary claims should require extraordinary evidence.

When it comes to two normal citizens (Joe and Bill) arguing about whether or not torture causes pain and suffering, of course it would be bankrupt for one of those citizens to try and torture the other to prove a point. Neither citizen has the authoritative power to make the decision for the country anyway, so they’re having a theory-based discussion.

However, if someone *is* in the position to implement a policy (Larry), the case is not quite that clear. They are empowered (to some extent) to make decisions for the aggregate citizenry. If a public policy decision is based upon such a contentious position, and the authority figure is espousing a view that a significant proportion of the citizenry finds to be lacking in credibility, I think that insisting that this authority figure “put his money where his mouth is” is not an altogether unreasonable stance.

Joe can be pro-torture, and Bill can be anti-torture, and neither of them has the right to torture the other to make a point. Larry, on the other hand, represents *both* Joe and Bill, and has ethical obligations to them both. Decisions that Larry makes have repercussions on both Joe and Bill; one of the drawbacks of democracy is that the populace bears the responsibility for the actions of their leaders (or at least from an ethical standpoint they ought to behave that way). If Larry says, “Torture doesn’t cause pain, ergo we can torture people” and he is in the position to enable torture, I think Bill is well within his rights to demand that Larry undergo some of the treatments proposed by Larry to test Larry’s decision making process (particularly as Larry is clearly an idiot in this case, torture clearly causes pain). Larry is making an extraordinary claim, he should be willing to back it up with extraordinary evidence.

Or, of course, Larry can have an opinion like an ordinary citizen, but remove himself from any decision-making process that might involve that particular opinion. If he abdicates his authority (thus removing any burden on Bill to bear the transitive responsibility for the decision), he can have whatever opinion he likes. I would highly question the fitness to be involved in government of anyone who did this, particularly in high office.

A muddied state of affairs where even a woman in the military where it should be as controlled as it gets, is unprotected and the rapist (and worse) is protected, her privacy is destroyed, and his is protected even from criminal prosecution is a lot more problematic than what information is on the Internet.

Like I said above, a single set of rules is what is needed, and perhaps the lines would not end up where those going in thought. But the system that sets the rules willy-nilly based on the power of the person discussed is bad in every case.

But let’s not lose the big picture: in the end, what harm was done? Scalia’s ego was bruised because he had been demonstrated, again, to be a buffoonish hypocrite out of touch with real word concerns.

These students aggregated information that is already available. The didn’t pick through his trash (though Scalia thinks that’s fine as well), peek through his window shades using high power binoculars (something else Scalia is fine with) or put a tail on his car…

And in the end, aside from announcing the categorical results of the project, they didn’t release anything sensitive (other than the fact that all of this information is publicly accessible on the internet).

To me, the project was not uncivil at all.

Going further: one of the foundational tenets of “the rule of law” is that every one of us is subject to the same regime. At the same time, there are very few in a position to say what the law is. As far as I’m concerned, that does matter. If you make the laws (or determine their boundaries), you are much less in a position to complain when your handiwork turns out to be something of a train-wreck. Especially when you’ve praised the train-wreck when it applied to your “lessers”.

Of course, they did.

What Reidenberg did was engage his class in a little bit of investigative journalism, and bravo to him. (Tell me you can’t see this story on “60 Minutes,” or “20/20.”) Justice Scalia seemed to indicate that this debate over privacy issues was nothing more than a tempest in a teapot, hence the initial “silly” comment. His subsequent comment that the exercise was “an example of perfectly legal, abominably poor judgment” is akin to saying, “I don’t like what you did, but I can’t stop you.”

The problem, as many above have indicated, is that there are a number of ways for any number of people to find out things about us online. What Reidenberg’s class accomplished was to take a theoretical hypothesis, driven by a comment by a public figure, and prove the statement correct. In doing so, the class members proved, beyond a reasonable doubt(!), that information of all kinds exists out there about each of us. How we choose to allow it to be used, and who would abuse its use, are questions that must be resolved.

Assuming that Reidenberg does find the compilation troubling, its still pretty hard to see how one could effectively convey the nature of those concerns without having students actually go through this process, and as he has noted, in previous years, he used himself as the target. He makes it sound as if the result of the exercise was quite striking for the students, which would suggest that it might be hard to find alternate ways of tackling these questions that would adequately convey what is already possible.

Frankly, I share Oren’s intuition that there is a kind of unseemly playing of gotcha here, albeit of the low-level classroom variety. I also suspect that reactions would be different if the dossier was compiled on a liberal justice. Of course, the last is a counter-factual that can’t be demonstrated.

I think the most significant harm is in discovering that a Supreme Court Justice has such a poor grasp of the issues surrounding these privacy issues, and is inclined to casually dismiss these issues as ’silly’.

I am a bit concerned about your own failure to grasp the value of this exercise. The selection of Scalia was an understandable choice, based upon his own remarks, not a malicious choice intended to ‘teach him a lesson’. The manner in which it was handled, with the dossier kept confidential, yet with full disclosure to the subject, seems reasonable and ethical.

This is of particular import when we consider the varying degrees to which government agencies share such data. Each individual collection/use might be worthwhile, but the aggregation and sharing of data creates a violation of privacy. Does my local law enforcement need to know my international telephone calls? Most of us would say, “not without a warrant,” but the proposed sharing of NSA intercept data with the FBI and state-level agencies presents that very picture. Oh, let’s just tie your international calling records to your financial transactions (remember, any transaction larger than $2000 is reported to the Feds automatically, and thence to the state-level agencies if sharing is in effect)–are we having fun yet?

At the same time, in less extreme circumstances, the fact that Scalia says he is not bothered counts for a lot. Someone who boasts that he is not bothered by insults, and who imposes that value judgment on everyone else by mandating they listen to insults, does invite other people to test the boast. And if the boaster quickly backs down with few lasting consequences (the dossier has not been circulated), we call that a lesson well learned.

Those creepy stalker bits are much more about the intents of the stalker than the data.

And yet women who post pictures of themselves along with identifying info online will be told that they “are asking for it” or at least “you should have known that would happen” — so at least for women, there’s a presumption that we are “attractive nuisances”.

If the stalker looks up a woman’s number in the phone book and finds her address as well it is not the phone book but what he does with the information that is at issue.

Possibly you are not aware that single women cannot expect to use their names in the phone book. Open one up and see how many people have no first name, only an initial. Most of those people are women.

When you think about privacy online, remember this: for every expectation of privacy you have, a prudent woman must expect less. For every effort you feel you have to make to protect your privacy and yourself, a woman must make extra. Setting the public standard to what is comfortable for you automatically excludes or endangers women — just as the public standard of the telephone book erases our first names.

I am not assuming that everyone shares my sense of civility; obviously that is not true. My point is just that this is in fact rather uncivil. As long as we are in agreement about that, I think we have reached consensus on the key point.

I might also add that Justice Scalia did not actually say that privacy is “silly.” On the other hand, accurately describing someone’s position is part of being civil towards them, and as you say, the interest in being civil is not universally shared here.

You seem to be assuming that we all share your rules of civility. I don’t. I think the exercise that Reidenberg did would be appropriate for any influential public figure who stated that privacy is “silly” — whether Scalia or someone else; whether they be liberal or conservative.

P.S. I don’t view Scalia as ignorant or evil.

Um, yes, but the point is that you think *it is actually a harm*, right? That is, you think the conduct is harmful; you think Scalia disagrees; so you think you can show Scalia that he is wrong by doing this to him and having him feel harmed so as to prove to him that you are right. That is, the purpose is to induce some sort of reaction in Scalia — the goal is to have Scalia feel anxiety or fear.I guess I find that a rather disturbing position.

The broader concern I have is tha to some people, Antonin Scalia is seen not as a human being but as some sort of symbol of ignorance and evil. He is “one of them,” someone who doesn’t understand and doesn’t deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. As a result, the normal rules of civiliity do not apply – see, e.g., Scalia’s trip to NYU, where he was asked in a public forum about whether he commits sodomy with his wife.