Imagine that some strange man wants a picture of your child. If it were the year 1750, he might commission an artist, who would then knock on your door and ask to paint a portrait. You could say no.

If it were 1850, he might hire a daguerreotypist who would ask your child to sit still while light and mercury vapor etched their image into a brilliantly polished, silvered copper plate. Again, you could say no.

And if it were 1950, the man might buy a Polaroid camera, knock on your door, and ask to snap a photo of your child – and you could still refuse.

Why should today’s parents or children have less privacy than their predecessors? Should spies, hackers, or even police officers be able to access a photo of your child without your permission? Of course not.

Yet, that is what is at stake if the United States, the United Kingdom, and the European Union align with China and Russia’s efforts to undermine encryption. Apple recently made global headlines by resisting a demand by the British government to access encrypted private data stored on the company’s servers. In other words, instead of asking for information, governments want the power to take it – without giving citizens a chance to say no.

At its core, encryption is a tool that allows us to say “no” to those who would take our data without consent. It is also the foundation of the internet as a place where privacy is respected and the freedom to learn is limitless.

If these efforts succeed, governments will wield unprecedented surveillance power. Although often justified as necessary to combat child abuse, there is little evidence to suggest that children will be safer if government agencies gain unlimited access to their photos, conversations, and location data. In fact, as Washington Post reporters Jessica Contrera, Jenn Abelson, and John D. Harden showed in their investigation of child sexual abuse by US police officers, the opposite may be the case.

To convince the public that breaking encryption is necessary, governments often rely on technical jargon and emotionally charged anecdotes, framing encryption as something only bad actors use. For example, some US legislators are trying to exploit parents’ fears to push for policies that would weaken privacy protections for children.

The millions of parents who rely on encrypted apps like WhatsApp every day are certainly not criminals. They are simply trying to protect their privacy and that of their families. Still, frightened people are susceptible to the message that the only solution is to allow more government access to their personal lives.

To be fair, some of the governments currently seeking to weaken encryption are trying to address real problems, such as the spread of child pornography, terrorist recruitment, and online scams. But it is crucial to understand the role encryption does – and does not – play in facilitating these activities.

Researchers at the University of Barcelona have offered valuable insights into the relationship between technology and social harm. As Paula Sibilia observes, technologies like encryption are not inherently good or bad, but they are also far from neutral. They emerge within specific historical contexts and are shaped by the values, interests, and norms of their time. These forces, in turn, affect how people see themselves and their role in society. To understand encryption, then, we must first understand the world that created it.

At the same time, technologies are more than neutral tools whose value depends solely on how they are being used. As Mariana Moyano notes, a shoe can be used to hammer a nail or hit someone, but that is not what it was designed for. Behind every technology lies a set of intentions – political and otherwise. We must therefore ask what a given technology was developed to do and whose interests are embedded in its design.

Those of us who care about online privacy must speak up, contact our representatives, and demand that they protect encryption from efforts to undermine it, thereby preserving the freedoms that previous generations once took for granted.

Lastly, as Donna Haraway argues, we must rethink our relationship with technology, cultivating new ways of connecting with the machines and systems that shape our lives.

At its core, encryption is a tool that allows us to say “no” to those who would take our data without consent. It is also the foundation of the internet as a place where privacy is respected and the freedom to learn is limitless.

Every person should feel empowered to use tools that protect their privacy. They may choose not to use them, but they must have the right to make that choice.

Britain’s anti-encryption efforts represent a serious threat to this essential freedom. UK residents already have fewer privacy tools than people in many other countries, thanks to their government’s aggressive efforts to undermine encryption. If Apple or other major tech companies give in to government pressure, a dangerous global precedent will have been set, and the consequences might not be limited to the UK’s 68 million people.

When policymakers in Washington and London start to resemble their counterparts in Beijing and Moscow in their approach to privacy, it is time for serious self-reflection. But it’s not too late to change course.

Those of us who care about online privacy must speak up, contact our representatives, and demand that they protect encryption from efforts to undermine it, thereby preserving the freedoms that previous generations once took for granted.

(Jessica Dickinson Goodman is a former board president of the Internet Society’s San Francisco Bay Area Chapter. Ezequiel Passeron Kitroser, an associate professor at the University of Barcelona, is Director of Faro Digital, an Argentine nonprofit dedicated to digital literacy) 

Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2025.
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