The Eye in the Sky

Eyes aren't always symbols of humanness, as a brief perusal of the British transport system shows.

"We're watching out for you", proclaims a Network Rail poster in bold letters underneath an unnecessarily large picture of a CCTV camera. I can't be the only person who, every time I see the poster, misreads it as "We're watching you".

Given the amount of money I imagine Network Rail allocates poster campaigns such as this one, I wouldn't be in the least bit surprised if this "misreading" were intended. Normally, when we're treated to a black stencilled picture of a CCTV camera, it's to remind us not to steal, or smoke in the wrong place, or vandalise, or sit in the first class carriage. So naturally, these big blue posters with pictures of looming CCTV cameras on them make the skin crawl before the text beneath has had a chance to reassure commuters of how much Network Rail cares about them.

Queensland Rail in Australia are also at it. On their website they reassure their paranoid customers with an image of a bold exclamation mark inside a big red triangle. This symbol is more commonly associated with the word "danger" than "safety". Yet without a hint of irony, they go on to assure customers that they want "to help you feel safe and secure", before announcing that "we're watching out for you with 6,800 CCTV cameras".

At least Luas tramways in Dublin avoid the doublespeak and freely admit, in what could be a paraphrase of the Big Brother mantra, "CCTV is watching you".

 

Another publicity campaign that seems to deliberately subvert the message it purports to be sending is the series of tube posters that resemble the dust jackets to a 70s reprint of Nineteen-Eighty Four. Stylised drawings of eyes, ears and lips bounce out from every wall of the underground, reminding law-abiding citizens to report "anything suspicious" to "our staff" - a nebulous and undefined body of TfL security personnel, probably by now outsourced to Serco, who presumably lurk behind those creepy, flashing, beeping mobile bin machines in flak jackets and ski masks, ready to frisk anyone who looks a bit too Muslim.

In New York, a similar "security" campaign has churned out thousands of bright yellow posters that boast "there are 16 million eyes in the city". In order to remind people what eyes are, the poster depicts 12 sets of them. One can't help but be reminded of the "Big Brother is Watching You" poster in Nineteen Eighty-Four, whose "eyes follow you about when you move".

San Francisco International Airport went for a more minimalist approach with their sign inviting travellers to report suspicious activity, but the end product was no less creepy for it:

"Secure Beneath the Watchful Eyes" - the 2002 Transport for London (TfL) posters that resemble the front cover of a Philip K Dick paperback - has a distinctly Juche ring to it, resonant of Bradley K Martin's authoritative title on North Korea: Under the Loving Care of the Fatherly Leader. Which should come as no surprise, given that Britain has more CCTV cameras per capita than North Korea does.

These posters, purportedly erected to reassure London citizens, are eerily reminiscent of over-the-top book sleeves for dystopian novels:

There is a serious point here, though. A study by Newcastle University, which found that people put more money in honesty boxes when a picture
of eyes was on the wall, inspired West Midland Police's "Operation Momentum" - a poster campaign with the tagline "We've got our eye on criminals."

The strategy is not a new one. The US Homeland Security Department used the spectre of a (not very subtly disguised) German-atron peeking over the next door fence to encourage curtain-twitchers the nation over to join in the fight against Nazism.

It seems the West Midland's strategy may well have trickled down to the Met and TfL, who have both incorporated pictures of eyes as central aspects of their poster campaigns. The image of an eye gives the impression of surveillance, even if there is no one doing the surveilling. It contributes to a psychological climate of paranoia and self-consciousness that arguably does away with the need for actual CCTV cameras. The image of a CCTV camera itself is perhaps more powerful in this respect. CCTV cameras make us think of surveillance, but with that additional degree of removal from the surveillor. Pictures of CCTV cameras, or dehumanised eyes like those the TfL assures us we are "secure beneath", create the impression of being subjects in a system - one that is not human, and that we are powerless to affect.

Something else non-human is the tannoy voice at King's Cross station. Tannoy lady has a mechanical rasp devoid of inflection or emotion. One imagines she has a very limited sense of humour. The metallic clang of her voice reverberates around the station, reminding passengers that
"security personnel patrol this station for purposes of safety and security". In the spirit of belt-tightening, they may well have cobbled together this humanoid's repertoire from the sweepings of film reel that didn't make the final cut of 2001: A Space Odyssey. I feel like I'm in Children of Men and always half expect the train to roll past a cage full of infertile refugees.

Anyone worried that the state is becoming too voyeuristic can find solace in the fact that surveillance is, in a salutary example of the Big Society in action, being outsourced to ordinary people. The website Internet Eyes offers lonely people who are bored of masturbating the opportunity to monitor live CCTV feeds and report suspecting wrongdoing or "suspicious activity" to business owners. In a plug on the website, founder and CEO Tom Morgan explains that citizens can "assist our already overworked police and security staff by becoming that extra pair of eyes."

There is clearly great power in the image of human eyes. And often, far from being comforting or human, they are intimidating and soulless, feeding a paranoia that can be harnessed for political ends. From the Sun God Ra, to the Illuminati triangle found on the US dollar, to WWII and current anti-terrorism propaganda, eyes have been used as symbols of power, to impress, discipline and threaten. We would do well to remember the power of such symbolism the next time we pass a poster purporting to make us feel safe.

Garry Knight via Creative Commons
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Why Barack Obama was right to release Chelsea Manning

A Presidential act of mercy is good for Manning, but also for the US.

In early 2010, a young US military intelligence analyst on an army base near Baghdad slipped a Lady Gaga CD into a computer and sang along to the music. In fact, the soldier's apparently upbeat mood hid two facts. 

First, the soldier later known as Chelsea Manning was completely alienated from army culture, and the callous way she believed it treated civilians in Iraq. And second, she was quietly erasing the music on her CDs and replacing it with files holding explosive military data, which she would release to the world via Wikileaks. 

To some, Manning is a free speech hero. To others, she is a traitor. President Barack Obama’s decision to commute her 35-year sentence before leaving office has been blasted as “outrageous” by leading Republican Paul Ryan. Other Republican critics argue Obama is rewarding an act that endangered the lives of soldiers and intelligence operatives while giving ammunition to Russia. 

They have a point. Liberals banging the drum against Russia’s leak offensive during the US election cannot simultaneously argue leaks are inherently good. 

But even if you think Manning was deeply misguided in her use of Lady Gaga CDs, there are strong reasons why we should celebrate her release. 

1. She was not judged on the public interest

Manning was motivated by what she believed to be human rights abuses in Iraq, but her public interest defence has never been tested. 

The leaks were undoubtedly of public interest. As Manning said in the podcast she recorded with Amnesty International: “When we made mistakes, planning operations, innocent people died.” 

Thanks to Manning’s leak, we also know about the Vatican hiding sex abuse scandals in Ireland, plus the UK promising to protect US interests during the Chilcot Inquiry. 

In countries such as Germany, Canada and Denmark, whistle blowers in sensitive areas can use a public interest defence. In the US, however, such a defence does not exist – meaning it is impossible for Manning to legally argue her actions were in the public good. 

2. She was deemed worse than rapists and murderers

Her sentence was out of proportion to her crime. Compare her 35-year sentence to that received by William Millay, a young police officer, also in 2013. Caught in the act of trying to sell classified documents to someone he believed was a Russian intelligence officer, he was given 16 years

According to Amnesty International: “Manning’s sentence was much longer than other members of the military convicted of charges such as murder, rape and war crimes, as well as any others who were convicted of leaking classified materials to the public.”

3. Her time in jail was particularly miserable 

Manning’s conditions in jail do nothing to dispel the idea she has been treated extraordinarily harshly. When initially placed in solitary confinement, she needed permission to do anything in her cell, even walking around to exercise. 

When she requested treatment for her gender dysphoria, the military prison’s initial response was a blanket refusal – despite the fact many civilian prisons accept the idea that trans inmates are entitled to hormones. Manning has attempted suicide several times. She finally received permission to receive gender transition surgery in 2016 after a hunger strike

4. Julian Assange can stop acting like a martyr

Internationally, Manning’s continued incarceration was likely to do more harm than good. She has said she is sorry “for hurting the US”. Her worldwide following has turned her into an icon of US hypocrisy on free speech.

Then there's the fact Wikileaks said its founder Julian Assange would agree to be extradited to the US if Manning was released. Now that Manning is months away from freedom, his excuses for staying in the Equadorian London Embassy to avoid Swedish rape allegations are somewhat feebler.  

As for the President - under whose watch Manning was prosecuted - he may be leaving his office with his legacy in peril, but with one stroke of his pen, he has changed a life. Manning, now 29, could have expected to leave prison in her late 50s. Instead, she'll be free before her 30th birthday. And perhaps the Equadorian ambassador will finally get his room back. 

 

Julia Rampen is the editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog. She was previously deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines.