Right to Know Week marked by automated redaction

It’s hard to believe, but it has come and gone again. Every year International Right to Know Week is celebrated by governments world-wide. From North Korea to Nova Scotia the word goes forth — unredacted to mark the special occasion — that they “promote freedom of information as a democratic right.”

Promotion does not necessarily mean action. Not everybody walks their talk. A gym teacher of my acquaintance — may he rest in peace — smoked a pack a day, was 5-foot-4 and 292 pounds, but he promoted the heck out of healthy living.

This year the celebrations began on Sept. 25 and ended Oct. 1. In Boston to hear and see Roger Waters eviscerate Donald Trump, pillory inequality and, yes, censure censorship, the week almost slipped by unnoticed. (Waters is the creative genius behind Pink Floyd.) Back behind the Nova Scotian wall, the provincial Internal Services Department released a report on freedom of information and protection of privacy (FOIPOP). The government may not be good at telling you what you want to know, but it can make a lovely silk purse out of a president’s ear — last Waters-related reference.

The report boasts a breakthrough this year. The government developed new electronic red action software. This is a giant leap forward, and will save taxpayers’ hundreds, if not thousands of dollars for black magic markers.

Overall productivity in the civil service may improve as well. There’s the time saved by automated redaction but, more significantly, recovery time has been eliminated for bureaucrats who inhaled while applying line up online of marker fluid.

The other big news was that FOIPOP applications and responses went online. Nova Scotia’s the third province to make that move.

As a close observer of government information, and unrepentant advocate of the people’s right to see the information they’re paying for, I regularly visit this website. The province’s responses offer endless mirth.

A tad late, but in keeping with the spirit of the week, a visit to the online site did not disappoint in mirth-making material.

Of 10 government responses, eight provided “partial” information to ever-hopeful citizens, and two informed the applicants that the government entity petitioned hasn’t got the information and doesn’t know where to find it.

Among this murky material is a response to a request about “online sewage disposal system deficiencies.” The province was unable to comply fully with this request, as it had to protect personal privacy.

You may be among those whose knowledge of sewage disposal is limited to the flush function, and therefore are uncertain as to what online sewage might be.

If it’s not related to websites — like that discussed here — it must have something to do with tracking effluvium. It is perplexing how this information could constitute a breach of privacy, unless there is some analysis of the waste which identifies the depositor and divulges his or her darker secrets.

Another petitioner sought correspondence on the pre-primary program between the Department of Education and Early Childhood Development and its superintendents.

That applicant got the whole act thrown back. Information was protected because it might pertain to an examination or test; contain advice by or for a public body or a minister; harm the financial or economic interests of a public body; disclose plans about the management of personnel or administration of a public body; include Information that could result in premature disclosure of a proposal or project; and constitute an unreasonable invasion of personal privacy. The department did provide “partial” disclosure, which included gems like the following email.

“Hey there/Hope all is well/Are you available for a quick chat?”

The government says the online service is making it “more transparent” and “easier for Nova Scotians to access information.”

Consistent with its overall record, this is partially true. The province is more transparent in its denials and it is easier to apply for information and receive a timely rejection, in part or in whole.

Finally, the numbers: The government granted full access to 10 per cent of information requests in 2016-17; partial access to 48 per cent (see above for representative example of “partial access”); had no records of 33 per cent (lost ‘em?), and denied access to just two per cent.

This record sounds mediocre to fair. If only the partial performance reached those lofty heights.