Flock, the police-tech colossus whose 120,000 license plate cameras have turned the country into a giant parking lot of surveillance, announced today that it will tighten officers' access to its network. The move comes as the company faces a mounting backlash over mass surveillance, police abuse, and the occasional officer using the system to stalk an ex. Because nothing says 'we've changed' like a press release.
Among the changes, officers will now be required to enter a criminal case number before searching the network. The system was optional last year; now it's mandatory. The idea is to ensure every search has a legitimate purpose - a baseline standard civil liberties groups have begged for. But as the ACLU recently found, when Flock required officers to enter a reason for a search, some typed generic terms like 'investigation' or, at one Oregon department, 'hehehe' 20 times. Because Flock won't verify case numbers, officers could circumvent this safeguard just as easily. But hey, at least they're trying.
To catch those who try, Flock is expanding an automatic auditing system that flags suspicious search activity to administrators. This too was optional last year; now it's mandatory. Flock hasn't shared specifics on the tool's accuracy, nor has it opened it up to independent evaluators. Because what could go wrong with a self-assessed surveillance tool?
Beyond officer abuse, Flock is addressing broader concerns about data retention and access. The company now recommends agencies hold onto data for seven days instead of 30 (though they can overrule that). Departments can also limit other agencies' searches of their data to specific reasons - say, 'kidnapping' but not 'immigration enforcement.' Again, this relies on officers accurately reporting why they're searching, which has worked so well so far.
The backlash has come from all angles. Tucker Carlson has called the technology a 'slave state' contributor. At least 30 cities dropped Flock contracts in the last year, according to NPR, though activist group DeFlock says the number is higher. Some states are banning license plate readers outright; others are switching to competitors Axon and Motorola. Flock says these cancellations are a small fraction of the 5,000 agencies that contract with them.
Chad Marlow, ACLU senior policy counsel and Flock's unofficial nemesis, says the real issue isn't individual abuses - though they don't help - but the sheer scale of surveillance. 'In America, you only get to investigate someone if you think they've done something wrong,' he says. With license plate readers everywhere, officers can investigate people without suspicion, since searching data troves requires no warrant. He asks, 'Is it worth it to catch a certain number of criminals, return a certain number of stolen cars, to eviscerate Americans' privacy?'
Flock CEO Garrett Langley blames the backlash on misinformation, claiming people mistakenly think Flock does facial recognition or sells data to commercial buyers. (The misinformation charge cuts both ways - the ACLU and others have documented the company lying to city councils about its tech's capabilities.)
Langley says the company is shifting from 'building things that are optional' to 'building more confidence that as a technology company we have a responsibility to enforce guardrails, not provide optionality.'
The changes are small and incremental compared to what the ACLU wants. Marlow supports them but notes that judging effectiveness would require independent researchers to access Flock's systems - something the company has never allowed. He sees this as a crossroads: 'Flock has come to the table because this incredible, unprecedented nationwide uprising against their company has scared them. But at the same time, they are just absolutely unwilling to make the actual changes they need to make in order to legitimately respond to these concerns. So this is the best that the company is willing to do.'