Over the weekend, the always-terrific Lenore Skenazy published a provocative editorial in Forbes entitled, “Shred Your Sex Offender Map.”  (For more on Skenazy, see my review of her amazing book Free-Range Kids here last year). In her Forbes essay, Skenazy argues that, as currently constructed, America’s sex offender registries “are making our kids LESS safe.”  How can that possibly be?  I explained why in a lengthy essay on this topic I penned last summer entitled, “ Rethinking ‘Sex Crimes’ and Sex Offender Registries.” In it, I made an argument similar to Lenore’s. In a nutshell, if we really want to keep kids safe from real sex offenders, we need to completely rethink the way we define and punish sex offenses in this country because a significant percentage of the people listed on sex offender registries pose almost no threat to children, making it difficult for us to know who really does pose a threat to our kids and what we should do about them.

Consider two groups of people. Let’s call Group #1 the “petty sex crime crowd.” This would include anyone convicted of  indecent exposure (streaking / public nudity / public urination); a 19-year-old teen who gets caught having sex with a 17-year-old girlfriend; two gay men who had consensual sex in a state where sodomy was previously illegal; etc, etc.  The crucial distinction for this group is that their actions were consensual and non-violent. No serious harm came from their actions, even if some of these activities are less than socially desirable.  Now, let’s talk about Group #2: violent rapists, child molesters, child pornographers, and other creeps who sexually abused people (or even animals!) These people are the wretched scum of the Earth.

Anyway, here’s the first problem with the current sex offender registries: Group 1 and Group 2 are all mixed together! There’s a word for this: Insanity.  How in the hell did it ever come to pass that non-violent, consensual sex “offenders” got stuck on the same list as sadists, pedophiles, rapists, and other violent, evil scum?  Honestly, I don’t know and I don’t care. I just want that nonsense to end and end right now because as I noted in my earlier essay and Lenore argues in her’s, this means current sex offender lists / maps are largely worthless to parents like me unless I take the time to drill down into the details of who was guilty of what.  (Even when you do, it can still be confusing since some crimes aren’t made clear).  But the public is basically being subjected to a panic attack when they hear sex offender registry numbers or see maps of sex offenders in their neighborhood because the overall number of “offenders on the lists,” or dots on the offender maps, is being artificially raised by the presence of Group 1 “offenders.”

There’s a much more serious problem with co-mingling or petty and serious sex offenders on the same lists, however: It is destroying the reputations of the petty offenders who get shackled with a life-long stigma of being on the same list next to those serial rapists, child abusers, or kiddie porn freak.  As a result, those people can’t get certain jobs or have certain relationships because the presence of their name on a sex offender list forever haunts them.  That’s both insane and sad.

Another problem: Mixing Group 1 and Group 2 on the same lists creates on strains law enforcement resources. As Skenazy noted in her essay, “maybe one of the reasons Jaycee Duggard was allegedly imprisoned for 18 years by a known sex offender was that an overburdened police force couldn’t concentrate on creepy Phillip Garrido and the hut behind his house. They were too busy with the 100,000 other Californians on the registry.” I have to imagine that most law enforcement officers would rather spend their time and energy focused on the scum of the Earth instead of streakers or teenage lovers.

Finally, perhaps the most offensive thing about the current sex offender lists is this: Why in the hell do we even need a list for the wretched scum of the Earth who are guilty of serious sex crimes! Why are these scumbags not in jail cell rotting away? I mean, seriously, what the hell is wrong with our government in this country?  How is it that, according to the Department of Justice Bureau of Justice Statistic, only 6 in 10 child sex crime suspects were prosecuted in 2006 and the median prison sentence imposed was just 5 years and 3 months? (See: Federal Prosecution of Child Sex Exploitation Offenders, 2006, (by Tracey Kyckelhahn, Mark Motivans, Ph.D., December 1, 2007, NCJ 219412). If you are a parent reading that number I hope you are as horrified as I am. It makes my angry.  And those are just the child sex crimes. I don’t know where rape sentences currently stand — if anyone has recent data sets, please bring them to my attention — but I know that victim’s groups have long complained of lax penalties for sexual assault against women.

Not to put too fine a point on it but we are talking about here are acts of violent aggression or exploitation against women and helpless children.  Besides murder, are there any crimes worse than that? I can’t name any.  Why, then, are we letting those offenders get off so lightly.  Perhaps if we weren’t putting so many people in jail for petty drug “crimes” we might have more room to house these people.  But, hey, that’s another rant for another day! (No, seriously, look at those charts below, which show drug prosecutions and penalties outpacing sexual exploitation. Again, insane. At least the penalties for sexual exploitation are finally catching up with drug sentences in recent years.)

Anyway, if we are going to let such human filth walk the streets, than we absolutely do need a solid sex offender registry to keep track of them. They should not be at liberty to move about freely. But the only way for those registries to be useful is if we either (1) get the Group 1 petty sex offenders off the list entirely or (2) create a new “Scum of the Earth List” just for the Group 2 people. Skenazy was kind enough to cite my “Scum of the Earth List” proposal in her Forbes piece and noted that it would help save time, money and potentially even lives.

Or, here’s a cheaper and potentially equally effective alternative: We could use a hot iron and brand their foreheads “Inglorious Bastards”-style with a scarlet letter (“S” for Scum) so that we know who they are and can see them coming.   But I’m willing to compromise: Just lock ’em longer and then I will put away my hot branding iron!

OK, end of rant. I need to get back to the important business of protecting my kids from the streaker down the street and the guy who got caught peeing behind McDonald’s who are on the sex offender list in my area.  Thank God my government is helping to protect my kids from those people. Perhaps one day our elected leaders will get down to business and start cracking down on the real sex criminals so parents like me can rest easier.  Because today’s stupid sex offender registries bring me no solace whatsoever.

[Again, please read my earlier essay on “ Rethinking ‘Sex Crimes’ and Sex Offender Registries” for more details.]

Last year, my PFF colleague Adam Thierer asked whether State AGs + NCMEC = The Net’s New Regulators? Adam noted that NCMEC, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, a private non-profit organization, was playing a law enforcement role in regulating child pornography—but without any clear mechanisms for ensuring its accountability and effectiveness. Adam’s point wasn’t just that transparency is a good thing, but that when it comes to a cause as important as protecting children from exploitation, it’s vital to ensuring that we’re that we’re actually doing a good job at it!

Yesterday, Emmanuel Lazaridis commented on that post:

Given the increasing regulatory and investigative powers of the NCMEC, it is no longer clear whether or not the [Freedom of Information Act] applies to NCMEC records. We are about to find out. I am right now bringing a case against the NCMEC in federal court for access to records under the FOIA and, failing that, for discovery under 28 U.S.C. § 1782(a).

Mr. Lazaridis’s complaint in the D.C. District Court claims that Lazaridis (a Greek national) has been unfairly deemed a fugitive from U.S. justice for having taken his daughter to Greece over the objections of the girl’s American mother, Lazaridis’s ex-wife. NCMEC got involved by placing the girl on their MissingKids.com registry of abducted children. Lazaridis wants the court to recognize his custody, deem him not to be a fugitive, and to order NCMEC to turn over all their records on the girl.

This is, of course, just one side of the story (and such cases are usually so complicated as to be indecipherable to outsiders). But even if Lazaridis’s case were wholly without merit, his basic argument would be a sound one: Why shouldn’t NCMEC, in exercising any of its essentially governmental functions, be subject to the same accountability requirements through FOIA as the FBI would be?

When the issue is the Lazaridis family’s trans-Atlantic custody battle, it may seem easy to ignore this question. But when NCMEC is essentially making policy regarding filtering Internet content, blacklisting websites, turning over user logs to law enforcement, or “cleaning up” Craigslist, the question of NCMEC’s accountability under FOIA cannot be avoided as a critical decision about the future of Internet governance.

On heels of Adam’s piece last year, controversialist Chris Soghoian suggested one answer: Given its status as a sacred cow, we cannot expect any politician pay heed to calls to overhaul NCMEC or subject it to oversight. However, what we can do, is call for the nationalization of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.

Think of it this way: We have a drug czar, a war czar, a copyright czar, and will likely have a cybersecurity czar and car czar under the next administration. Why not throw a child porn czar into the mix? Nationalize NCMEC, make all of its workers federal employees, with good health care and job security, and perhaps even expand its budget–after all, it does good work, right? NCMEC’s job is simply too important to be entrusted to a nonprofit group–such a task can only be performed by a fully trained and funded law enforcement agency (one, which conveniently enough, is subject to the Freedom of Information Act, congressional oversight, and constitutional requirements for due process.)

Despite my differences with Chris, he’s often right and may be here, too. He’s certainly right that Congress is unlikely to address the problem of NCMEC’s accountability given the sensitivity of the issue of child protection.

But, fortunately, we live in a republic, not a pure democracy: Our third branch of government, the courts, exists to enforce the rule of law; being somewhat insulated from political pressure, the courts provide a final check on the authority even of the almighty NCMEC. So while Chris’s nationalization proposal might well be the ideal solution, it hasn’t happened yet—nine months later to the day, and it’s probably not high on the Obama administration’s list of czarist reforms.

But simply by ordering NCMEC to comply with FOIA, the Lazaridis court could, with the stroke of a pen, bring accountability to NCMEC’s law enforcement functions. The legal question is simple: Does NCMEC qualify as an “agency,” which FOIA defines as an “authority of the Government of the United States?”

If so, NCMEC must not only respond to requests for certain of its “records,” but it must also follow a rule-making process akin to that required of federal agencies when they make policy decisions, offering the public appropriate notice and the opportunity to comment on proposed regulations—instead of, say, threatening Internet companies behind closed doors (sometimes the same companies that later make generous donations to NCMEC) or cutting deals with state attorneys general.

It turns out that this is not a new issue. Federal courts have had to decide whether a number of quasi-governmental entities qualify as “agencies” over the years, especially given the trend towards privatization over the last three decades. Some organizations, like the Smithsonian Institution, have decided to comply with FOIA even though courts have held that they’re not required to do so. NCMEC could have allayed all these concerns years ago by doing the same thing, but absent a change in management at the organization, it seems only a court order will force the organization to open its “black box” of decision-making to public inquiry.

In a number of other circumstances, courts have required nominally private organizations to comply with the federal FOIA or its state equivalents. A thorough (if dated) treatment of this issue can be found in the 1999 law review article, Privatization and the Freedom of Information Act: An Analysis of Public Access to Private Entities Under Federal Law by Craig Feiser, Florida’s deputy solicitor general and an adjunct at FSU Law. Feiser explains:

When Congress amended FOIA in 1974, it added section 552(f)(1) and broadened the definition of “agency” to include entities not explicitly mentioned under the APA, but which “perform governmental functions and control information of interest to the public.”

In deciding whether a private organization qualifies as an agency subject to FOIA, courts have considered two factors.

One factor asks whether the entity has substantial independent authority in performing a function of the government, making it the functional equivalent of the government. The other factor asks whether the government substantially controls the entity’s day-to-day operations or organizational framework. In using either factor, the court is essentially asking to what degree the entity is performing a government function. In one case, the government is pulling nearly all of the strings; in the other case, the entity is making decisions independently for the government.

Financially, NCMEC is largely a creature of government: 70% of NCMEC’s $42 million budget in 2007 came from the government. But as Feiser notes, funding does not always mean control. Government control over NCMEC’s internal decisions is unclear. Indeed, the very lack of government control over an organization essentially regulating the Internet and imposing criminal sanctions that could follow convicted “sex offenders” for life would by itself be an enormous problem.

But given what NCMEC actually does, it obviously qualifies as an “agency” subject to FOIA under the “functional equivalence factor,” which as Feiser explains,

basically represents the opposite situation from the control factor. Here, the entity is functioning independently, but making decisions for the government, as opposed to having its decisions made by the government. In effect, it is the functional equivalent of the federal government, and, therefore, it should be an “agency” under the FOIA.

I’ll be watching the Lazaridis case closely, hoping that the court sees NCMEC for what it is: a private organization tasked with implementing not just any government function, but the enforcement of laws against the most vulnerable victims in society. Absent such a recognition, NCMEC will continue to grow into an unaccountable regulator for the Internet.

Today, the only public oversight of NCMEC required by law is the requirement that NCMEC (like any non-profit with federal tax-exempt 501(c)(3) non-profit status) file a Form 990 each year disclosing basic information about its finances. That report does not list NCMEC’s donors, because donors have a First Amendment right to remain anonymous, but a more transparent organization would, like my own think tank, at least identify its major donors. The 2006 and 2007 Form 990s do reveal a few interesting things, though, about what NCMEC does with its budget (70% of which comes from the taxpayer):

• NCMEC’s CEO, Ernie Allen, was paid $359,191 plus $411,636 in benefits in 2006 (PDF p. 46) and $409,821 plus $426,540 in benefits in 2007 (PDF p. 19), for a total of $1.6 million in two years (roughly $800,000/year);
• Not counting Allen, NCMEC spent $778,564 on its top five highest-paid employees in 2006 ($155,713/employee), and $875,657 in 2007 ($175,131/employee) (PDF p. 10 in both);
• 31% of NCMEC’s 2006 revenues and 35% of its 2007 revenues went to salaries (PDF pp. 1 & 2 in both); and
• NCMEC had 104 employees paid over $50,000 in 2006 (PDF p. 10) and 116 in 2007 (PDF p. 10).

I’d be reluctant to suggest that anyone at NCMEC was more interested in money than in protecting children, but if given the choice, we’d all prefer to do well while doing good. So if Allen were smart, he’d realize that a court order subjecting NCMEC to FOIA might be the best of all possible worlds: Requiring real accountability would neutralize calls for nationalizing NCMEC, allowing the organization to continue operating as a non-profit that can pay quite a bit better than the Federal civil service. Even the Senior Executive Service, for agency heads, maxes out at a measly $177,000/year.

Of course, if NCMEC’s records and decisions to regulate the Internet were subject to FOIA, the organization might not be able to… “convince” the Internet companies it essentially regulates to write large checks to NCMEC. But even this tax-hating libertarian would be hard-pressed to argue against funding the enforcement of laws against child pornography, abduction and exploitation with taxpayer dollars.

As the grandson of an FBI agent, whose framed credentials hang in a place of pride in my office (stamped “RETIRED” after his 25 years of loyal service), I can’t help but wonder how many more agents the FBI could employ to combat child porn with an extra $1.6 million/year in funding (the salary of Allen and NCMEC’s top-five highest paid employees). It seems that FBI agents today make roughly $48,000-87,000/year. Let’s call it an average of $67,500 and throw in 20% for overhead. That works out to $81,000/year—or:

• 20 new agents for what NCMEC is paying its top six employees; or
• 368 new agents for the $29.82 million NCMEC received in government support in 2007.

I’m sure the solution is far more complicated than simply hiring more FBI agents, and that NCMEC does much good work in the service of a noble cause. But until NCMEC is either nationalized as a direct arm of law enforcement or made significantly more accountable as a private organization, we won’t really have any way of knowing whether the money being spent on NCMEC is being spent in the most effective manner possible to deal with the problems of child pornography, abduction and exploitation. We also won’t know whether draconian alternatives to direct enforcement ( e.g., hiring more FBI agents) like network-level filtering mandates are truly necessary, despite their unintended consequences for the free speech and privacy rights of law-abiding Internet users.

Adam raises some important questions below about the legislation introduced in Congress to ban silent cell phone cameras. Like many things Congress does, I wonder if the proposed solution might end up being worse than the perceived problem.

Is cell phone camera voyeurism actually a serious problem in the U.S.? Or is this just another problem being blown out of proportion by politicians? Some actual data on the incidence of camera phone “predation” would be useful in deciding whether digital voyeurism is a matter that demands Congress’s attention. The bill’s current language offers up only the vague statement, “Congress finds that children and adolescents have been exploited by photographs taken in dressing rooms and public places with the use of a camera phone.”

I also wonder why the legislation targets phones rather than silent compact cameras of all sorts. Ridding from the market all silent mobile phone cameras would just make bad guys switch to compact, silent cameras with memory cards. (That’s not to say that Congress should ban them, either).

There’s a case to be made that in some situations, it might actually be a good thing for people to have cell phones equipped with silent cameras. What about somebody who’s being assaulted, or mugged, or raped and wants to photograph their attacker but fears retaliation? Or someone who’s just witnessed a crime, unbeknownst to the perpretator, and is trying to get a snapshot of the fleeing suspect? Or a whistleblower who wants to collect evidence of illicit activity by snapping covert photos?

To be sure, these are all hypothetical, unlikely scenarios. But for all we know, incidents involving “cell phone predators” are just as unlikely. And the person with the “good” use for their silent cell phone camera is much more likely to be impacted by a ban, because the bad guys will just skirt the law by hacking their phones or buying regular cameras.