Provincial laws regarding the protection of privacy need to be revisited. Far too often, they are used by public agencies as a screen to fend off legitimate scrutiny.
On almost a monthly basis, we hear ministers refusing to comment on the latest dreadful screw-up, because someone鈥檚 personal privacy might be invaded.
However, there is a more pressing issue that must be addressed. Last month, Health Minister Terry Lake suggested that when an investigation is launched into the firing of eight ministry employees, due weight must be given to personal privacy.
Lake did not say whose privacy required protection, and indeed it is unclear whom he had in mind.
His cabinet colleagues? No. Lake has already promised they will co-operate with an investigation.
The staff who were dismissed? Hardly. They want an opportunity to speak out.
Senior officials who participated in the firings? Here, perhaps, we come nearer Lake鈥檚 concern.
There is no question that an investigation might result in revelations that could be career-damaging, if not career-ending. But that is not a privacy matter.
It鈥檚 true that witnesses at an inquiry cannot be compelled to incriminate themselves. This is a standard protection in any adjudicative proceeding.
Nevertheless, the legal advice given this newspaper is that personal privacy rights form no basis for refusing to answer relevant questions at an inquiry.
But if a minister of the Crown is uncertain about this matter, what are ordinary citizens to make of it?
And that is not the end of it. Last week, the provincial ombudsperson, Jay Chalke, wrote to the legislative committee that oversees his office, laying down conditions for an inquiry. The minister of health had suggested that the ombudsperson is best suited to conduct the investigation into the firings.
Chalke raised several difficulties, but his principal concern was that his office might not be able to compel testimony, because his authority is overridden by sa国际传媒鈥檚 privacy statutes.
Specifically, he noted that the Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act has strict rules regarding the protection of patient data.
But what has that got to do with anything? The rules in question deal with the storage of patient files and the manner in which they may be accessed.
But how does the mere fact that patient files are private affect an investigation into staff dismissals? Yes, some of the employees worked with patient data. And yes, it was alleged that some of them had mishandled patient files.
However, Chalke can conduct his probe without requiring access to the files themselves. The question is not what is in these documents. The question is how they were handled, and whether, if there were procedural errors, this constituted sufficient reason to fire eight employees.
Here again, the mere fact that privacy rules exist in the general neighbourhood is being used as grounds for concern, and possibly to derail a much-needed investigation.
Yet Chalke and Lake are both experienced public officials. If they are so nervous about accidentally putting a foot wrong, it can only be because the laws are unclear. The boundaries are unknown.
Some of this is perhaps understandable. The legislation in question is a relatively new addition to the statute books. The privacy commissioner鈥檚 office only came into existence a little over two decades ago.
Nevertheless, it is a common complaint across the public sector, from ministries to universities to schools and health authorities, that our privacy rules are ambiguous at best, and labyrinthine at worst.
A re-examination is in order. For as things stand, the lack of clarity is stifling.
