‘Wanted’ posters spark privacy probe
On Monday, the Edmonton Police Service proudly unveiled its new campaign to round up miscreants and ne’er-do-wells with outstanding warrants. The campaign featured a series of Wild West-style “Wanted” posters and included images of alleged o enders who’d evaded police capture.
But on its very first day, Operation Warrant Enforcement, or OWE, hit a major legal crisis. One of the first three images that police chose to highlight in their kicko was the photograph of a 16-year-old girl. The ad, which ran on the EPS website as well as in three local papers, included the girl’s name, age and picture.
I can’t identify the girl, because I am strictly bound by the terms of the federal Youth Criminal Justice Act. For decades, Canada’s criminal law has absolutely forbidden anyone to publish the name of a juvenile offender, or a youth under 18 accused of a criminal o ence.
On rare and urgent occasions, police can apply for a special court order to name a wanted youth temporarily, if, for example, public safety is at imminent risk. But the police didn’t seek such a court order. They simply “outed” this teen, insinuated she was a public danger, shamed her, then exhorted the public to turn her in to police.
Even if this girl had been a convicted killer or armed bank robber, it would still have been illegal for the police to name her and publish her photograph.
For generations, our youth justice system has operated on the philosophy that kids who break the law deserve a second chance, an opportunity for rehabilitation. That’s why we ban publication of their names and seal their records.
In this instance, the girl hadn’t been convicted of this alleged crime. Her “outstanding” warrant was less than two weeks old. There’s no indication, thus far, that police had any exigent circumstances to warrant their blithe disregard for the long-standing publication ban on the identities of young o enders.
It is, of course, possible to argue that the publication ban is an antiquated, unenforceable law, in this day of social media, when unregulated platforms like Facebook, Nexopia and Twitter allow people to violate the law with impunity. For now, though, the law is very much on the books, and Edmonton Police Service had no right to unilaterally dismiss it.
For the better part of two days, the EPS refused to offer any apology to the girl or her family for violating her civil rights. Instead, the police downplayed their decision to choose the photograph of a minor to launch their big warrant campaign as a mere oversight — then exploited the opportunity to boast about how successful the warrant campaign had been.
It took until Tuesday evening for Chief Rod Knecht to issue a proper and appropriate statement, apologizing to the teen and the community, and calling police actions “absolutely unacceptable.” RCMP are now conducting an independent criminal investigation — as well they should. (Believe me, if I had broken this law, even by accident, I would face consequences.)
Of course, this young lady should be held accountable for whatever laws she might have broken. But whatever her punishment, it must conform with federal law. It can’t include being publicly pilloried in the court of public opinion, before trial.
Sentence first, verdict afterwards is Alice in Wonder
land logic. We don’t punish people, adults or children, before they’ve had their day in court.
Yet that’s exactly what this warrant execution campaign aims to do, to humiliate people who’ve failed to pay fines or who’ve missed their court dates. The public has no way to know what these people have done, how serious their crimes (or misdemeanours) might be. Yet there are all their pictures displayed on Wanted posters, with the police imploring the rest of us to turn them in.
On Wednesday afternoon, Alberta’s new information and privacy commissioner, Jill Clayton, announced that her o ce is launching its own independent investigation into the entire Project OWE campaign, to see whether it complies with provincial privacy legislation. It’s a welcome development. The semiotics of the ads bespeak a vigilante culture. The ads incite paranoia, as if to convince us our streets are filled with danger, that we need to spy on our neighbours.
If the police want citizens to turn themselves in, to pay their overdue fines, maybe they should try to build public trust, not public fear. If they want people who’ve broken the law to face up to the consequences of their mistakes, they should do the same.