Frank van der Linde, a Dutch human rights advocate, unwittingly became the subject of government surveillance, sparking a legal battle that revealed the extensive and often inaccurate nature of travel data collection. Linde’s experience highlights the growing use of Passenger Name Records (PNRs) by governments worldwide and the potential for this data to be misused or misinterpreted. His ordeal began in 2017 when he was flagged by Dutch police under a counter-terrorism program, despite his peaceful activism for homeless rights and anti-racism. Although later removed from the watchlist and receiving an apology, Linde’s movements continued to be scrutinized, raising concerns about the ongoing use of his travel information.
The incident at Schiphol Airport in March 2020 brought the issue to the forefront. Linde, returning from a trip outside the EU, was subjected to seemingly routine questioning by an immigration officer. However, these questions were part of a covert operation, with Linde’s answers recorded and passed to a public prosecutor. Unbeknownst to him, the officer had been alerted to his arrival through the sharing of his PNR data – a detailed record of his travel arrangements transmitted by the airline to the Dutch authorities. This seemingly innocuous data exchange, standard practice for flights to many countries, became a tool for surveillance in Linde’s case.
The scope of PNR data is extensive, encompassing a wealth of personal information far beyond basic travel details. From addresses and phone numbers to payment information, frequent flyer details, and even accompanying travelers, these records paint a detailed picture of an individual’s movements and associations. This information, retained for years, has become increasingly valuable in an era of algorithmic surveillance, with technology companies developing tools to analyze this data and potentially influence decisions about who can cross international borders. Linde’s case raises serious questions about the potential for such data to be used for profiling and discriminatory practices.
Driven by suspicion, Linde requested his PNR records from the Dutch government in late 2022. The initial response from the Passenger Information Unit (PIU) claimed they had not shared his data. However, Linde’s persistent appeals forced a confession: the government admitted to sharing his PNR details with border police on three occasions, including the 2020 incident at Schiphol. Moreover, they revealed they had shared seven additional flight records, ostensibly discovered in a second search of their systems. This discrepancy further fuelled Linde’s concerns about the transparency and accuracy of the data being collected.
The inaccuracies within Linde’s PNR data amplified his anxieties. The records contained missing flights and, more alarmingly, listed flights he had booked but never taken, including a 2021 trip to Belfast. This revelation underscored the potential for flawed data to lead to false conclusions, particularly when subjected to algorithmic analysis. Linde’s question about how companies utilize this potentially inaccurate data highlights a crucial concern: if algorithms are trained on flawed information, the resulting decisions about individuals can be unjust and discriminatory.
Linde’s experience serves as a cautionary tale about the increasing reach of government surveillance and the potential for misuse of personal data. The collection and retention of PNR information, while presented as a security measure, can become a tool for monitoring individuals, particularly those who express dissenting views. The inaccuracies within Linde’s records further highlight the risks associated with relying on such data for critical decisions, particularly in the context of algorithmic analysis. The case raises crucial questions about data privacy, transparency, and the potential for discriminatory practices in an increasingly interconnected world. The implications extend far beyond individual cases like Linde’s, prompting a wider debate about the balance between security and civil liberties in the digital age.
