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The bankers cannot believe their luck

The disgrace of the political class has been the salvation of the bankers. And lax regulation has le

Until the drama over MPs’ expenses, workers in the financial services had been reeling from a succession of blows: collapsing banks, nationalisations, frozen bonuses, job losses and contemptuous, withering condemnation by the public and by opinion-formers in the media, church pulpits and parliament. An optimistic scenario was one of slow rehabilitation under a less permissive regime involving tougher regulation, partial public ownership of banks and a diminished, chastened City.

Now the bankers can’t believe their luck. A couple of days after the first revelations in the Daily Telegraph, the headline in the City’s free newspaper City AM was a shout of orgasmic release: “Now THEY can’t lecture US.” It said it all. Collapse of moral authority and politicians’ will. Back to business as usual.

The dangers of drift were highlighted in the speech given at Mansion House on 17 June by Mervyn King, governor of the Bank of England. He publicly expressed discomfort at the idea of banks that are “too big to fail”: he has concluded that such banks are simply too big. But the government is reluctant to tackle these banks, as the conduct of Lord Myners and the institutionalised passivity of UK Financial Investments Ltd (UKFI) – the Treasury-backed bank shareholder body – indicates. Instead, there seems to be a yearning to disengage government from the financial sector as quickly as possible. Political developments have made that disengagement easier to achieve, now that parliamentarians, including members of the Treasury select committee, have been collectively discredited, and power within the Labour government has shifted from a wounded Prime Minister to a revitalised Chancellor articulating the Treasury line.

It is deeply worrying that some of the most important policy questions for a generation are now being decided by default and in a political vacuum. How can a semi-nationalised banking system best serve the different but overlapping interests of UK bank borrowers, depositors and taxpayers, as well as private shareholders and bank executives? How should the systemic risks of banking – and the City generally – be managed through regulation, in order to safeguard the wider UK economy? Most important, is it actually possible for the UK to play host to a major financial service sector?

The response to all these questions is a lazy, uncritical, self-serving one: that, bar a few regulatory tweaks that will need to be made, the previous regime was essentially fine. The bankers’ view is that UK politicians need to get off their backs as quickly as possible and get the banks back into the private sector; to reverse “penal” (ie, 50 per cent) marginal tax rates; and to stop the European Commission, or more self-confident UK regulators, from “undermining the City’s competitiveness”. These arguments are winning.

Indeed, there is a danger that the counter-revolution could soon become a rout.

Yet it is only a matter of months since half of the British banking system collapsed and had to be rescued by the state through total or partial nationalisation. Thanks to that intervention, the banks have stabilised (if nothing more). Several small banks are now fully nationalised; RBS and the Lloyds Banking Group are partly nationalised; the two remaining global banks (HSBC and Barclays), along with the remainder of the sector, depend on a variety of implicit or explicit guarantees.

How we got to that point has been discussed elsewhere (including in my book The Storm): I am now concerned with the future. There is a bifurcation of paths opening up. One route builds on the experience of recent bank crises in Scan­dinavia, Israel, Korea and elsewhere, including the US, whose so-called Resolution Trust model helped to limit the savings and loans crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s. Following this route, the state leads and manages a clean-up and restructuring of banks, usually within a decade or so. Approaches have varied, but there are some common elements: the wiping clean of the slate, in respect of losses incurred by existing private shareholders and the removal of failed management; fresh, taxpayer equity capital; structures to ensure that lending can continue unhindered to good, solvent borrowers; the valuation and active management of “bad” assets, in order to retrieve whatever value is left; then, in due course, the selling off of some or all publicly owned banks to achieve maximum return to the taxpayer and leave a varied ecology of properly regulated national banking institutions.

Some of us thought that was where the government was originally heading. After the October rescue, there were some tough-sounding conditions on new lending and curbing bonuses and, for a while, as it basked in the glow of in­ternational approval, the government seemed to be on the right track.

But it has gradually become apparent that we are being taken down a different route, where government money and guarantees are used to facilitate a quick return to “business as usual”. UKFI has been populated by financiers rather than business people with experience as bank customers. The public-sector shareholders seem to have had no quarrel with bank management’s efforts to build profitability and deleverage as quickly as possible.

The Asset Protection Scheme introduced in January also provides insurance cover for “toxic assets”, which means the government has taken on an open-ended risk without a corresponding “upside” for the taxpayer. This route was chosen in preference to fresh government equity capital precisely because it makes a quick return to private-sector ownership easier. There is now a danger of premature reprivatisation, which would leave the taxpayer with a vast toxic dump of losses and a poor price for the share sale. There are already rumours that Northern Rock is being lined up for a rapid sale.

If banks are to return to “normal” commercial operation under private ownership, the issue arises of how they should be regulated. The Cruickshank report on banking, commissioned by Gordon Brown a decade ago, posed the central question: why should banks be allowed to pursue the maximisation of shareholder value – and management bonuses – when they are underwritten by the taxpayer? This question has never been answered properly. Banks should either surrender their protection and compete like other firms, or be protected and have their profit regulated like utilities. In the wake of a banking crisis, the logic is even starker. In the past few weeks we have seen leading executives at Barclays awarding themselves millions while the bank ultimately remains dependent on government guarantees, despite its precarious independence. It is not surprising that executives of the semi-nationalised banks want to follow suit.

What has brought the issue to a head is the judgement that the major UK-based banks are “too big to fail” and have to be rescued in a financial emergency. This concept is an economic and democratic outrage. Either they must be subject to tight state control or they should be broken up so that they are not “too big to fail”. The point has been grasped, improbably, by ministers in banker-friendly countries such as Switzerland, and by our own central bank’s governor. Yet ministers today seem no less terrified of confronting the banks than when Brown initially fled the battlefield a decade ago.

One solution would be to restrict protection, including deposit protection, to “narrow banks”, confined to lending out no more than they receive in deposits. Other banks would operate competitively but be stripped of any protection. I, for one, am attracted to the concept; but it would involve a revolutionary change, a discontinuation of fractional banking altogether, and in the short run it is unlikely to be adopted.

Article continues below...

­Who said what about
the banking crisis

The financial services sector in Britain, and the City of London at the centre of it, is a great example of a highly skilled, high-value-added, talent-driven industry that shows how we can win in a world of global competition.
Gordon Brown, June 2007

When the music stops, in terms of liquidity, things will be complicated. But as long as the music is playing, you’ve got to get up and dance.
Chuck Prince, Citigroup CEO, July 2007

We cannot have a situation where the banks are able to privatise their profits and nationalise their losses.
Vince Cable, April 2008

We can’t tell every bank what to do.
Alistair Darling, April 2008

Where there is excessive and irresponsible risk-taking, that has got to be punished. The day of big bonuses is over.
Gordon Brown, October 2008

We had ten years of record growth when I was prime minister. I have, unfortunately, come to the conclusion that it was luck.
Tony Blair, January 2009

The government is clearly playing for time in order to avoid doing anything to upset the bankers.
Vince Cable, February 2009

Royal Bank of Scotland has the largest balance sheet in world banking so it is critical that Stephen succeeds.
Sir Philip Hampton, RBS chairman, defends the pay deal for the new RBS CEO, Stephen Hester, worth up to £9.6m, June 2009

A less drastic way of dealing with overgrown banks would be to split off the investment banking arms of the main global banks – what Mervyn King calls the “casinos” – and to confine government protection to the remaining “traditional” banking wings. These would then operate as regulated utilities: the model that broadly prevailed in the United States before the repeal of the Glass-Steagall Act a decade ago. The urgent need to change our system is highlighted by the ambition of Barclays Capital to become “the premier global investment bank”: it is madness for the British taxpayer to be a last-resort guarantor for this kind of business. To be sure, the demarcation is not clear-cut: there is high-risk “traditional” banking and low-risk investment banking, and the separation of roles would not be straightforward. The big banks – HSBC and Barclays – argue that they would be stopped from tapping into the securitisation markets (which may, after recent disasters, not be quite the loss they believe it to be). There is also the implied threat that global banking operations will be withdrawn from the UK.

The government must face down this kind of blackmail. The British taxpayer simply should not be made responsible for the risks that global banks take outside our regulatory jurisdiction. There are undoubtedly technical difficulties in separating out those aspects of global banks that the government can guarantee and those it cannot, but these problems cannot be an excuse for bottling out completely.

One lesson of the financial crisis is that the “light-touch” regulatory approach was a failure. It may have failed in part because of the poor quality of bank supervision rather than the absence of regulation. And the rapid innovation of capital markets undoubtedly ran ahead of regulators’ capacity to monitor activity effectively. But the vast cost to the British taxpayer – and the wider economy – of the banks’ failure and the consequent bailout make it imperative that regulation be strengthened.

We are now at a crunch point. The need to strengthen and update the regulatory regime has collided with the financial institutions’ growing confidence that they can keep the state off their backs. Self-serving arguments are being employed, notably that regulation will suppress “innovation”. It will. It should. We need more financial “innovation” like a hole in the head.

The other argument is that regulation (and 50 per cent tax rates) will undermine the City’s “competitiveness” and “drive away” banking and non-bank financial institutions. This argument has to be met head-on; the idea of a regulatory race to the bottom does not square with political and economic reality. Co-operation rather than regulatory arbitrage between the main jurisdictions will always be best, but if that co-operation does not materialise, the UK should not chase business by offering low standards that create wider risks for the UK economy. The arguments about City “competitiveness” are bogus, self-serving and dangerous. It is profoundly to be hoped that Brown, Alistair Darling, Ed Balls and others who fell for them so haplessly in the past have now learned their lesson.

The new regulatory agenda espoused by Lord Turner, chairman of the Financial Services Authority, is sensible and not especially controversial. Indeed, many in the City see it as a minor irritation, followed by a green light to get back to business as “normal”. It contains sensible elements – such as “macro prudential regulation” that would focus on systemic risks, rather than regulation of individual banks – and more controversial but basically prudent ideas, such as limiting loan-to-value ratios and/or multiples of income for mortgage lending.

Lord Turner has also supported the argument that the most dangerous forms of risk-taking in banking institutions can be limited by paying bonuses not in cash but in stock, redeemable after a period of years. As stock prices are depressed and the capital gains tax payable is only 18 per cent, any half-sober City trader will have worked out he should be doing this in any event. But it is not a silver bullet – the bosses at both Lehman Brothers and Bear Stearns had huge equity-related incentives, and look where they are today. These issues require pause for thought: there are bigger regulatory battles shaping up.

One concerns the proposal to establish a clearing house for complex financial derivatives so that they can be traded, netted and regulated. Properly regulated, these activities can spread risk and, in a general sense, add to stability. What is much more dangerous, as the recent financial crisis has illustrated, is to have a vast pyramid of paper claims – as in the CDS/CDO (credit default swap/collateralised debt obligation) “markets” – which cannot be settled in an orderly way through a clearing house. Important lessons can be learned from the recent collapse of General Motors. CDS contracts with a value in excess of $35bn were netted down to $2.2bn, causing little more than a ripple in the overall CDS market. The danger is that nothing will be done, setting up a huge systemic risk – and the next big crash.

One practical remedy would be to establish a clearing-house system as soon as possible. Big banks that make a lot of money from OTC (“over-the-counter”) trading are not happy: if they were forced to use a regulated exchange they would lose this business. In practice, complex, structured derivatives would therefore be prevented. A second issue is whether the London Stock Exchange – and the Bank of England as the lender of last resort – are big and strong enough to support a clearing house dealing with transactions valued at many times the size of the world economy. Co-operation with the US is potentially important. And perhaps a European approach is required, in order to draw on the bigger firepower of the European Central Bank, but that may unleash some dangerous political demons.

Meanwhile, the European Union has precipitated another major regulatory battle by putting forward proposals, both for strengthening European co-operation over bank supervision – reluctantly conceded to by the UK – and for toughening the regulation of hedge funds and private equity. Britain’s financial community has a collective paranoia about Europe, and there is envy of London’s currently predominant role and a distaste for the freewheeling “Anglo-Saxon” model (not that German, Dutch or even French banks behaved very differently in the crisis).

However, it is surely eminently sensible to ask, as the European Commission is doing, whether these new forms of financial intermediation are healthy and adequately regulated. There are some critics who question the value of hedge funds altogether and would be happy to see them regulated out of existence. But a more relaxed view is that there is a role for specialist financiers who pursue high yield via high risk – provided they do not depend on taxpayers’ guarantees or indirectly contribute to the systemic risk that taxpayers underwrite. The former has not been a problem in the recent crisis (no hedge fund has asked for government help), but the latter undoubtedly is. There is a proper debate to be had as to how hedge funds should be regulated: to treat the tentative proposals of the European Commis­sion as akin to a Napoleonic invasion threat is simply idiotic.

There is a more fundamental argument about the scale of Britain’s financial services industry in relation to the UK economy. I wouldn’t expect the City to vote for contraction, or for curbs on its freedom to operate, any more than I would expect turkeys to vote for Christmas. But the poultry farmer – the Labour government – cannot just ask the turkeys what they want. He has to be willing to wield a knife and cut some throats. A combination of national, European and global regulation is necessary to ensure that the vast negative externalities associated with the City do not exceed the (genuine) benefits that the UK economy derives from a successful, internationally traded, financial services sector. In addition, there will have to be a major structural adjustment out of traded financial services into other services and manufacturing.

Unfortunately a weak, demoralised, delegitimised Labour government is in no shape to face this challenge, and a Tory government pumped up by City donations would have no need or inclination to take it on. The opportunity for reform and renewal is passing us by and, if it does, financial crises will return with even greater ferocity in years to come.

Vince Cable, economic spokesman for the Liberal Democrats, is the author of “The Storm: the World Economic Crisis and What It Means”, published by Atlantic Books (£14.99)

This article first appeared in the 29 June 2009 issue of the New Statesman, The Great Escape

NEAL FOX FOR NEW STATESMAN
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They know where you live

Imagine your house being raided by armed police. That’s what happened to Mumsnet’s Justine Roberts after she fell victim to an internet hoaxer.

At around midnight on Tuesday 11 August 2015, a man dialled 999 to report a murder. A woman had been killed in her London home, he said, before hanging up without offering his name. A second call followed. This time, the man claimed to be the killer. He told the operator that he had now taken the woman’s children hostage at the Islington address. They were locked with him inside a room in the house, he said. The police responded with reassuring speed. Fifteen minutes later, eight officers, five of them armed with automatic weapons, accompanied by saliva-flecked dogs, arrived at the scene and took up position in neighbouring front gardens. When one officer banged on the front door of the house, the team was greeted, moments later, not by a masked murderer but by a blinking and bewildered au pair.

Justine Roberts, the woman whom the caller claimed to have killed, was in fact nearly 2,000 kilometres away – in Italy, holidaying with her husband and children. After explaining this to the police, the au pair called Roberts, who assumed that the incident was an unfortunate misunderstanding, one that could be unpicked after the vacation. It was no mistake. Roberts had been the victim of “swatting”, the term given to a false emergency call designed to bait an armed unit of police officers to storm someone’s home. It wasn’t until a few days later, as the family was preparing to return to London, that Roberts discovered that she had been the target of a planned and sustained attack, not only on her household, but also on her business.

Roberts is the founder of Mumsnet, the popular British internet discussion forum on which parents share advice and information. A few days before the swatting incident, members of 8chan, a chat room that prides itself on being an open, anonymous platform for free speech, no matter how distasteful, had registered accounts on Mums­net with the aim of trolling people there. When legitimate Mumsnet users identified and then ridiculed the trolls, some retreated to 8chan to plot more serious vengeance in a thread that the police later discovered. Roberts wasn’t involved in the online skirmish but, as the public face of the site, she was chosen as the first target.

After the initial armed response, Roberts’s perception was that the police were unconcerned about the swatting attack. “We were told that there was no victim, so there was not much that could be done,” she told me. The hoax caller, however, was not finished. In the days after the incident, there was chatter on Mumsnet and Twitter about what had happened. A Mumsnet user whom I will call Jo Scott – she requested anonymity for her own safety – exchanged heated messages with a hacker who claimed responsibility for the 999 call.

“It descended into jokes and silliness, like many things do,” Scott said. “I didn’t take it seriously when the hacker said he had big surprises in store.” She doesn’t believe that what happened next was personal. “I think I was just easy to find.”

A few days after police were called to Roberts’s home, Scott was in her bedroom while her husband was sitting downstairs playing video games. At 11pm, she heard a noise outside. “I looked out of the window and saw blue flashing lights in the street,” she recalled. “I could hear shouting but I didn’t pay it much notice.” Then she heard her husband open the front door. Police rushed into the house. An armed officer shouted upstairs, asking Scott if she was hurt. When she replied that she was fine, he told her to fetch her two young children: he needed to see them. Scott shook her sons awake, explaining, so as not to alarm them, that the police had come to show the boys their cars. As the three of them went downstairs, the officers swept up through the house, repeatedly asking if there were any weapons on the property.

“I was beyond confused by this point,” Scott said. “Everyone was carrying a gun. They had little cutaway bits so you could see the bullets. My eldest asked one of the officers if he could have a go on his gun and went to touch it.”

As Scott sat with an officer downstairs, she asked what had happened to her husband. “I later found out that the noises I’d heard were the police calling for him to come outside,” she said. “He dropped the PlayStation controller as he left the room. It was only later that we realised it’s a good job he did: in the dark, the controller might have looked like a weapon.”

Outside, Scott’s husband had been surrounded and arrested. Other police ­officers were on the lookout in the front gardens of nearby properties, having warned the couple’s neighbours to stay indoors, away from their windows. “One of the officers said it was beginning to look like a hoax,” Scott said. “Then he mentioned swatting. As soon as he said that word, I twigged that I’d seen the term that day on Twitter in relation to the Mumsnet hack.”

***

The term “swatting” has been used by the FBI since 2008. “Swat” is an acronym of “Special Weapons and Tactics”, the American police squads routinely called to intervene in hostage situations. It is, in a sense, a weaponised version of a phoney order of pizza, delivered as a prank to a friend’s home, albeit one that carries the possibility of grave injury at the hands of police. For perpetrators, the appeal is the ease with which the hoax can be set in motion and the severity of the results. With a single, possibly untraceable phone call, dialled from anywhere in the world, it is possible to send an armed unit to any address, be it the home of a high-profile actor whom you want to prank or that of someone you want to scare.

In America, where swatting originated, the practice has become so widespread – targets have included Tom Cruise, Taylor Swift, Clint Eastwood and the Californian congressman Ted Lieu – that it is now classed as an act of domestic terrorism. In the UK, where Justine Roberts’s was one of the first recorded cases, swatting is classed as harassment, though that may change if these and other forms of internet vigilante attacks, such as doxxing, become increasingly commonplace.

Doxxing involves the publication of someone’s personal details – usually their home address, phone numbers, bank details and, in some cases, email address – on the internet. It is often the prelude to swatting: after all, the perpetrator of a hoax cannot direct the police to the target’s home address until this is known. (During the week of the Mumsnet attacks, one of the perpetrators attempted to locate another target using their computer’s IP address, which can identify where a person is connected to the internet, often with alarming precision. Their calculation, however, was slightly out; police were called to a neighbour’s address.)

Though doxxing has a less dramatic outcome than swatting, the psychological effects can be just as severe. For victims – usually people who are active on the internet and who have outspoken opinions or who, in the eyes of an internet mob, have committed some kind of transgression – the mere threat of having their personal information made available on the web can cause lasting trauma. A Canadian software developer whose home address, bank details, social security number and email history were published online in 2014 told me that he now keeps an axe by his front door. “I still don’t feel safe here,” he said. “It’s terrifying.”

Christos Reid, a social media manager for a software company, was doxxed last year. Reid’s information came from a website he had registered seven years earlier. “I woke up one morning to find a tweet announcing my personal details,” he told me. When he asked the Twitter account holder to take down the address, he was told to commit suicide. Reid said he was “OK for about half an hour”; but then, after he went out, he broke down in the street. “I’ve become more paranoid,” he said. He no longer gives out business cards with personal information.

Reid lives in London, but at the time of the doxx he was attending an event in Nottingham, home to the British police’s largest cybercrime division. He was impressed with the police response, even though they told him that they had not heard of the term “doxxing” before. “I was interviewed by two separate people about my experiences who then compiled everything into a case file and transferred it to the Met. When I arrived home, an officer visited me to discuss what happened and my options.”

The policeman explained harassment law to Reid, and offered advice on how to improve security at his flat and what to do if someone hostile turned up at the address. Reid shouldered the repercussions of what had happened alone; no suspects were identified. A spokesperson for the Metropolitan Police similarly said that although detectives from Islington CID have investigated the swatting attacks made on Roberts and Scott, no suspects have been identified “at this time”, even as “inquiries continue”.

Doxxing may seem to be a mild form of harassment but it carries with it an implicit threat of impending violence; the worrying message is: “We know where you live.” Unlike swatting, which is always malicious, doxxing is sometimes viewed by its perpetrators as virtuous. In November 2014, hackers claiming to be aligned with the internet group Anonymous published personal information allegedly belonging to a Ku Klux Klan member from Missouri. The hackers said that their action was a response to the KKK’s threat to use lethal force against demonstrators in the city of Ferguson, Missouri, protesting against the killing of the unarmed black teenager Michael Brown by a white police officer. In January 2015 hackers claiming to be from Isis took over US Central Command’s Twitter account and posted information about senior military officers, including phone numbers and email addresses. In each case, those carrying out the doxxing believed, however mistakenly, in the virtue of their actions and hoped that the information could be used to bring punishment or ruin to the subject.

The term “doxxing” may be new but the practice is an old one. The Hollywood blacklist revealed the political beliefs and associations of actors and directors in the late 1940s as a way to invite shame, deny employment and dissuade others from following their example. “But it has become a lot easier to find people’s private details with the help of the internet,” Jeroen Vader told me. Vader owns Pastebin, a website that allows users to upload and distribute text documents, and where much of the personal data is anonymously uploaded and shared. “People post their private information on social networks,” he said. “A lot of people aren’t aware that their information is so easily available to others.”

In Justine Roberts’s case, the perpetrator may not even have needed to look at social networks to mine her personal information. “If you’re on the electoral roll, you’re easy to find,” she said. “There’s not much you can do to stop people getting hold of your data one way or another, whether it’s for nefarious reasons or simply to better advertise to you. We live in a world that is constantly trying to gather more information about us.”

Jeroen Vader said he has noticed an “upward trend” in the number of doxxing posts uploaded to Pastebin in recent months, but insisted that when someone uses the site’s abuse report system these offending posts are removed immediately.

Across social media companies, action is more often reactive than proactive. Victoria Taylor, a former director at Reddit, one of the largest community-driven websites in the world, said that the rule against publishing other users’ personal information has been “consistently one of the site’s most basic policies” and that “any violation of this rule is taken extremely seriously by the team and community”. Still, she was only able to recommend that victims of doxxing send a message to the site’s administrators. Similarly, when asked what a person can do to remove personal details that have been published without permission, a Twitter spokesperson said: “Use our help form.”

The spokesperson added: “There has def­initely been an overall increase in doxxing since 2006, both on Twitter and on the internet more generally.” She attributed this rise to the emergence of search engines such as Intelius and Spokeo, services designed to locate personal information.

***

The surge in the number of dox­xing and swatting attacks is in part a result of the current lack of legal protection for victims. Confusion regarding the law on doxxing is pervasive; the term is even not mentioned in either US or European law. In a tutorial posted on Facebook in 2013, the writer claims: “Doxxing isn’t illegal as all the information you have obtained is public,” and adds: “But posting of the doxx might get you in a little trouble.”

Phil Lee, a partner in the privacy, security and information department of Fieldfisher based at the law firm’s office in Silicon Valley, said that differing privacy laws around the world were part of the problem. “Various countries have laws that cover illegal or unauthorised obtaining of data. Likewise, some of the consequences of releasing that data, such as defamation or stalking, cover elements of what we now term doxxing. But there is no global law covering what is a global phenomenon.” Indeed, Roberts believes that her London address was targeted from America – the 999 call was routed through a US proxy number.

One challenge to creating a law on doxxing is that the sharing of personal information without permission has already become so widespread in the digital age. “If a law was to state something like, ‘You must not post personal information about another person online without their consent,’ it wouldn’t reflect how people use the internet,” Lee said. “People post information about what their friends and family members have been doing all the time without their consent.

“Such a law could have a potentially detrimental effect on freedom of speech.”

Lee believes that a specific law is unnecessary, because its potentially harmful effects are already covered by three discrete pieces of legislation dealing with instances where a person’s private information is obtained illegally, when that information is used to carry out illegal acts and when the publication of the information is accompanied by a threat to incite hatred. However, this does not adequately account for cases in which the information is obtained legally, and then used to harass the individual in a more legally ambiguous manner, either with prank phone calls or with uninvited orders of pizza.

Susan Basko, an independent lawyer who practises in California and who has been doxxed in the course of her frequent clashes with internet trolls, believes that the onus should be on the law, rather than the public. She points out that in the US it is a crime to publicise information about a government employee such as their home address, their home and cellphone numbers, or their social security number, even if the information is already online. “This law should apply to protect all people, not just federal employees,” she said. “And websites, website-hosting companies and other ISPs should be required to uphold this law.”

Basko said that doxxing will continue to increase while police have inadequate resources to follow up cases. For now, it is up to individuals to take preventative measures. Zoë Quinn, an American game designer and public speaker who was doxxed in 2014, has launched Crash Override, a support network and assistance group for targets of online harassment, “composed entirely of experienced survivors”.

Quinn, who spoke about the problem at a congressional hearing in Washington, DC in April last year, recently posted a guide on how to reduce the likelihood of being doxxed. “If you are worried you might some day be targeted,” she wrote, “consider taking an evening to stalk yourself online, deleting and opting out of anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Both Scott and Roberts have changed their privacy habits following the attacks. Scott is more careful about interacting with strangers online, while Roberts uses scrambler software, which ensures that she never uses the same password for more than one online site or service.

For both women’s families, the effects of their encounters with armed police have also lingered. When one day recently Roberts’s husband returned home early from work, the au pair called the police, believing it was an intruder. And Scott is haunted by what happened.

“What if my husband had made a sudden move or resisted in some way? What if my eldest had grabbed the gun instead of gently reaching for it? What if people locally believed that my husband did actually have guns in the house?” she asks. “I don’t think the people making these sorts of hoax calls realise the impact.” 

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism