Careful what you do; digital eyes abound

Many years ago, two things were told to me that stuck. They were helpful at the time. And they also turned out to be prescient for today’s digital dialogue of life.

First was advice from an older and wiser politician friend who said, “Before you send a letter, ask yourself how you’d feel if you had to read it on the front page of tomorrow’s paper.”

The second advice came from a friend in the security business as many hotels and condos in the 1980s began installing elevator video surveillance cameras: “Whatever you’re thinking of doing on an elevator, would you still do it if you knew someone was watching?”

His stories of what people — often couples — do late at night on elevators were legendary.

Both of these suggestions were derivatives of the old morality check set out in the 14th century by a theologian who said, “Whenever you do a thing, act as if all the world were watching,” and it has never been truer than today, when the world can be watching.

A camera and recorder in every phone, the influence of social media and public security surveillance have literally put each of us under scrutiny.

And while we can choose to opt out of our own digital lives or trust that security companies will have some discretion with video surveillance, anyone can turn us viral by simply aiming a camera our way, whether we know it or not.

It’s as simple as documents we intended to be small and private — an invoice, receipt, handwritten letter or note — photographed and posted to the world within seconds.

Or the angry customer, dash cam user or cellphone videographer catching us at our best or worst moment, and two clicks later it’s there for millions to see.

Psychologists have known for decades that people respond differently when we think we are being watched. From littering to selfish behaviour, even the presence of mirrors or posters of eyes can change how people behave.

When we know the world is watching, scrutinized behaviour is generally more acceptable and pro-social.

When the debate began a decade ago about body cameras for police officers, I thought them an intrusion, as unwelcome as they would be untrusting of the competence and skill of professionals. But many officers’ associations and police brass say the opposite; they ensure high standards and are often the best evidence of officer behaviour when witnesses can’t be found.

If Feidin Santana had not recorded South Carolina police officer Michael Slager shooting a defenceless Walter Scott eight times in the back, it might have been written off as a justified shooting of a suspect who had grabbed an officer’s Taser following a scuffle.

The stark discrepancy between Slager’s account and what appears on the video clearly explains why the now-fired officer has been charged with murder.

As guilty verdicts were returned in the trial of Boston Marathon bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, meticulous video reconstruction showed his movements, his deliberate setting down of a bomb, even his loitering in the area as he watched children playing near the hidden bomb, indifferent to the carnage that minutes later would kill and maim innocents.

Closer to home, a Regina mother’s story came unglued when her allegations of police misconduct toward her daughter were refuted by GPS data and apartment building video.

For people trying to bait others, video remains an indispensable tool; someone is recording, and if nothing damning or embarrassing is said the video is merely erased and space is left for next time.

Had academic and former politico Tom Flanagan responded differently to heckling students, he would not have lost face and taken hits to his reputation, stature and employment.

Sometimes, deliberate setups fail, like this week’s Facebook posting by three young Saskatoon men disrespectfully mouthing off to a police officer and trying to contrive a confrontation by defying his lawful attempt to detain them after reports of an erratically driven vehicle.

The cop stymied the effort by carefully and professionally conducting himself — with more restraint than most of us could have — as cellphone video rolled. If anyone came out of the encounter looking like a racist thug, it wasn’t the guy wearing the police uniform.

The law, as it usually does with some lag, will eventually catch up with the use and ubiquity of private video. But until then, be careful.

And remember the elevator rule.