MARK HILL - writer guy
Video killed the radio car
Originally published in
The Montreal Gazette & The Ottawa Citizen
Video killed the radio car
Britain's love affair with the CCTV means fewer cops and more crime
by Mark Hill
I don't suppose that you want a photograph of me, but if you do, might I suggest that you contact the British police. By my reckoning, they've got hundreds of them.
No, I'm not a notorious felon (the closest I've come to committing a crime is a rather unfortunate bomber jacket I owned back in the mid-80s). Nor am I "known to the police." I've never even been asked to "assist the local constabulary with our inquiries."
What I am is a perfectly ordinary guy who, earlier this year, spent a month in the United Kingdom. As the U.K. is completely covered in closed circuit television cameras and I completely covered the U.K., it's safe to say that British law enforcement likely possesses more pictures of yours truly than anyone alive save, perhaps, my mother.
I bring this up after hearing that Canada's Privacy Commissioner George Radwanski has launched a suit in the British Columbia Supreme Court to force the RCMP to remove a closed-circuit video-surveillance camera from the streets of Kelowna. After just one month in Britain, let me say that I hope the Commish wins his suit. Because if he doesn't, I may just head out to Kelowna and chop the thing down myself.
CCTV coats Britain like a horse blanket. Every square inch of that country is covered by closed-circuit video. Walk down the street, visit a pub, go to the bathroom, buy an ice cream, hop a bus — whatever you do, wherever you go, the unblinking eye follows. In England, somebody, somewhere is always watching you. It's the creepiest thing to hit Britain since Jeremy Irons.
If a slimy, creepy feeling was the worst thing about Britain's love affair with the CCTV, I wouldn't be terribly concerned. What concerns me, and what I don't want to see happen in Canada, is the fact that CCTV has in Britain pretty much replaced the police.
Fact is, the British bobby has virtually disappeared. He doesn't exist. Well, that's not entirely true. He does exist. But where he used to spend his days walking the beat, he now spends most of his time locked up at headquarters watching CCTV tapes.
As a result, Britain in 2002 is, for all intent and purposes, not policed. As a Canadian, it's the first thing you notice. There are no cops on the street, no cruisers on the road. Nothing. Nada. Zip. It's surreal. It's like being in, well ... Montreal (a city that, as far as I can tell, doesn't actually have a police department).
Okay. I exaggerate. I was in the U.K. for a month and I did see some cops. In Liverpool, for example, I saw three — a bobby at Lime Street Station, a squad car responding to a call, and another patrol unit in (I kid you not) the drive-thru at McDonalds. That's it. Three cops. And get this — I was six days in Liverpool and my hotel was right next door to police headquarters!
No wonder Britain is reeling under a crime wave. Video killed the radio car.
I got to talking about this with a policeman in Cardiff. He was, like all Welshmen, a friendly chap. But when I suggested that anyone with a ski mask could do whatever the heck he liked in Britain, his tone turned decidedly frosty. "I wouldn't suggest something like that, sir," the young copper said, signaling that our pleasant chat had come to an end. I may have offended the young policeman, but my comment held a great deal of truth. The best CCTV camera in the world is no match for a policeman on the scene.
While I was in Britain, a series of car-jackings had Londoners in a panic. As the investigation unfolded, the police released information to the effect that, using CCTV, they were able to follow the exact route taken by each car-jacking victim. They could see where the victim went and who followed them. In many cases, they could view the actual crime.
But what they couldn't do was stop the victim from being car-jacked. And why? Because instead of walking around and driving around and mixing it up with the great mass of humanity, they were, like all British cops, holed up at HQ watching CCTV. To the best of my knowledge, the car-jackers have not been caught.
All this explains why I'll be following Mr. Radwanksi's suit with interest. Because if I'm attacked, I want the cops to rescue me. I do not want to find myself lying bleeding in an alley somewhere while a police department press flack assures the general public that "officers are reviewing the videotapes now."
— 30 --
Mark Hill is an Ottawa writer.
The Montreal Gazette & The Ottawa Citizen
Video killed the radio car
Britain's love affair with the CCTV means fewer cops and more crime
by Mark Hill
I don't suppose that you want a photograph of me, but if you do, might I suggest that you contact the British police. By my reckoning, they've got hundreds of them.
No, I'm not a notorious felon (the closest I've come to committing a crime is a rather unfortunate bomber jacket I owned back in the mid-80s). Nor am I "known to the police." I've never even been asked to "assist the local constabulary with our inquiries."
What I am is a perfectly ordinary guy who, earlier this year, spent a month in the United Kingdom. As the U.K. is completely covered in closed circuit television cameras and I completely covered the U.K., it's safe to say that British law enforcement likely possesses more pictures of yours truly than anyone alive save, perhaps, my mother.
I bring this up after hearing that Canada's Privacy Commissioner George Radwanski has launched a suit in the British Columbia Supreme Court to force the RCMP to remove a closed-circuit video-surveillance camera from the streets of Kelowna. After just one month in Britain, let me say that I hope the Commish wins his suit. Because if he doesn't, I may just head out to Kelowna and chop the thing down myself.
CCTV coats Britain like a horse blanket. Every square inch of that country is covered by closed-circuit video. Walk down the street, visit a pub, go to the bathroom, buy an ice cream, hop a bus — whatever you do, wherever you go, the unblinking eye follows. In England, somebody, somewhere is always watching you. It's the creepiest thing to hit Britain since Jeremy Irons.
If a slimy, creepy feeling was the worst thing about Britain's love affair with the CCTV, I wouldn't be terribly concerned. What concerns me, and what I don't want to see happen in Canada, is the fact that CCTV has in Britain pretty much replaced the police.
Fact is, the British bobby has virtually disappeared. He doesn't exist. Well, that's not entirely true. He does exist. But where he used to spend his days walking the beat, he now spends most of his time locked up at headquarters watching CCTV tapes.
As a result, Britain in 2002 is, for all intent and purposes, not policed. As a Canadian, it's the first thing you notice. There are no cops on the street, no cruisers on the road. Nothing. Nada. Zip. It's surreal. It's like being in, well ... Montreal (a city that, as far as I can tell, doesn't actually have a police department).
Okay. I exaggerate. I was in the U.K. for a month and I did see some cops. In Liverpool, for example, I saw three — a bobby at Lime Street Station, a squad car responding to a call, and another patrol unit in (I kid you not) the drive-thru at McDonalds. That's it. Three cops. And get this — I was six days in Liverpool and my hotel was right next door to police headquarters!
No wonder Britain is reeling under a crime wave. Video killed the radio car.
I got to talking about this with a policeman in Cardiff. He was, like all Welshmen, a friendly chap. But when I suggested that anyone with a ski mask could do whatever the heck he liked in Britain, his tone turned decidedly frosty. "I wouldn't suggest something like that, sir," the young copper said, signaling that our pleasant chat had come to an end. I may have offended the young policeman, but my comment held a great deal of truth. The best CCTV camera in the world is no match for a policeman on the scene.
While I was in Britain, a series of car-jackings had Londoners in a panic. As the investigation unfolded, the police released information to the effect that, using CCTV, they were able to follow the exact route taken by each car-jacking victim. They could see where the victim went and who followed them. In many cases, they could view the actual crime.
But what they couldn't do was stop the victim from being car-jacked. And why? Because instead of walking around and driving around and mixing it up with the great mass of humanity, they were, like all British cops, holed up at HQ watching CCTV. To the best of my knowledge, the car-jackers have not been caught.
All this explains why I'll be following Mr. Radwanksi's suit with interest. Because if I'm attacked, I want the cops to rescue me. I do not want to find myself lying bleeding in an alley somewhere while a police department press flack assures the general public that "officers are reviewing the videotapes now."
— 30 --
Mark Hill is an Ottawa writer.