The Golden State Killer and Privacy in the Age of DNA
In a plot line suitable for “Criminal Minds”, California authorities have used DNA to catch a murderer and rapist who, by all known accounts, has been dormant for over thirty years. Joseph James DeAngelo has been ID’d as the perpetrator known as “the Golden State Killer”, the “East Area Rapist”, and the “Original Nightstalker”, or “EARONS”.
This case is well known to those who lived in the area during the events, and to those with an interest in true crime. The crimes began with a spree of rapes in the late 1970s, which progressed into murder. There were dozens of victims, 12 of whom were murdered. His MO of silently entering his victims’ homes and waking them suddenly and violently, his bizarre behavior during the commission of his crimes (he was known to sit in the corner and cry, or speak to himself as though talking to a third person) and his penchant for terrorizing his surviving victims with phone calls for years after made him a terrifying bogeyman in the annals of serial murder.
He murdered his last known victim in 1986, though his last reported phone call to a living victim was in the early 2000s. Nevertheless, as time passed, it seemed likely that this case would remain unsolved, like Jack the Ripper or the Zodiac. But EARONS left plenty of himself at the scenes of his crimes, including ejaculate. The prescient collection and preservation of this evidence at a time predating the prominence of DNA testing is remarkably fortunate. When the technology developed, law enforcement knew they possessed the killer’s genetic identity, and they waited. Perhaps it could be matched if the killer was ever arrested for something.
In the meantime, companies like 23AndMe became popular. They provided people the ability to submit their saliva samples and find out their ancestral origins, and millions of amateur genealogists availed themselves of the opportunity. This included relatives of the Golden State Killer.
Law enforcement realized they also had an opportunity here. They submitted EARONS’ DNA profile to GEDmatch to see if perhaps his identity was in his database. It was not — but his relative’s was. Their inquiry hit on a profile that showed a familial relationship to the killer. From there, detectives began investigating the family members until they found someone who seemed to fit what they knew about their suspect.
They looked for a man who lived in the Sacramento area in the relevant time frame. They surmised that he would now be approximately in his early seventies, and much of the detail of his crimes hinted at military or law enforcement experience. 72 year old DeAngelo matched right down the line. He was both a veteran of the Navy and a former police officer (his law enforcement career ended when he was arrested for shoplifting a hammer and dog repellent, items which hold sinister significance to his crimes). He lived — and, at the time of his arrest, still lived — in the right area, and would have been in his early thirties at the time of the rapes and murders. Detectives began to surveil the aged Mr. DeAngelo, and, like a scene from Law and Order, retrieved a discarded item he had used in order to collect his DNA. This DNA sample was compared to the sample from the crime scene, and, the authorities say, they had their man.
The accuracy of the DNA evidence will no doubt be hashed out in the court room, but the public at large is already batting around the method by which it was obtained. Was this search legal? Was this a violation of privacy? Will a judge throw this case out because of the way in which authorities found the suspect? It is worth examining a few legal principles to get some idea of where this might go.
Were privacy rights violated? And if so, whose?
Some critics immediately expressed misgivings over law enforcement having obtained the suspect’s DNA from a genealogy website. In the current climate of concern over the sharing of our personal information by companies who have seemingly innocuously infiltrated our lives (looking at you, Facebook), the millions who have sent their spit samples off for a DNA profile suddenly worried that their information was not confidential. While it serves as a good reminder to read the fine print in user agreements and be protective of one’s data, in this case, one need not have worried. All of the major players in the commercial DNA analysis business affirmed that none of them had been working with law enforcement. They did not help catch GSK, and they did not disclose any of his family’s DNA profiles to law enforcement.
GEDmatch acknowledged that law enforcement used their site. But in that case, it worked exactly as designed. The very reason users upload their DNA is so that it can be shared with other people. And if that was not understood, GEDmatch makes this very clear in their user agreements. Law enforcement used the service as it was intended, except to find someone else’s family rather than their own.
Even if the above were not true, and there was a privacy argument to be made over law enforcement’s use of GEDmatch, the argument would not belong to DeAngelo, but to his relative whose uploaded DNA information was accessed and compared. And even if the relative had a legitimate privacy complaint, it would not help DeAngelo in court. In order to challenge the legality of a piece of evidence, one must have “standing” to do so. A criminal defendant may not rely on the breach of someone else’s privacy, or, more pointedly, the violation of someone else’s fourth amendment rights.
If you are visiting a friend, and the police barge into your friend’s home without a warrant, find a bunch of drugs in the home and decide to arrest you, you have no right to challenge the warrantless entry. Your friend does, as it is their house, but the evidence will not be thrown out in your case on these grounds. (This is a fairly simplified example, and it depends upon the length of your visit and other factors, but illustrates the general rule.) Likewise, even if DeAngelo’s relative has a genuine cause of action against GEDmatch, it is meaningless to DeAngelo.
Under the same facts as above, if your friend had given the police consent to search their home, you, as a brief visitor, would likewise have had no right to object and no standing to challenge the evidence seized.
The shared space of DNA
There is one caveat to this analysis, though, in its application to the DNA aspect of the GSK case, and that is the rule applicable to the search of a shared home.
Until the last 12 years or so, only one person living in a home needed to consent in order for the police to search it. Georgia v. Randolph, a 2006 U.S. Supreme Court case, changed that. The Randolph case held that where one person living in the home consents to a search, but another who also lives there objects, the search is impermissible.
Extrapolate this analysis to DNA. Consider the DNA profile “the house”. Family members share this DNA, at least in part. Has law enforcement improperly assumed consent when only one person laying claim to the DNA has consented to its search?
A novel argument, but DeAngelo’s lawyers would face an uphill battle if they attempt it. For one, remember that no consent is required to search something that is in “plain view”, or where there is no expectation of privacy. GEDmatch is a public space; it is like to keeping the curtains off the windows and the front door wide open, or setting your property out on your porch.
The second problem with this argument relates to a case from 2014 in which the Supreme Court further clarified Randolph. In Fernandez v. California, the defendant who objected to the use by prosecutors of evidence found in a search of his home was not present at the time the police arrived, and his roommate gave consent. The defendant argued that the search violated Randolph. The Court disagreed, holding that the defendant must be present at the scene and voicing objection. Otherwise, the consent of the other occupant is sufficient. However, the Court further clarified that the absent occupant’s private, unshared quarters, i.e., bedroom, could not be searched. Extending this analysis to the DNA profile, DeAngelo was not present and could not object. Furthermore, the DNA profile of the family member contained no information that was exclusive to DeAngelo, no private quarter. Under this Fernandez analysis, DeAngelo is unlikely to prevail in this argument.
The end of 40+ years of terror?
As it stands, it certainly seems as though after more than 40 years of imposing terror, the Golden State Killer has been caught. Questions abound: Will he confess? Will he plead guilty or demand a trial? Will the DNA evidence hold up? Will his victims, 40 years later, remember the details sufficiently to withstand testimony? Time will bring the answers. Justice demands them.
“GEDmatch makes this very clear in their user agreements. Law enforcement used the service as it was intended, except to find someone else’s family rather than their own.”
There’s the loophole right there. I’m sure the expectation from almost all the users is that people are submitting *their own* individual DNA to these sites, setting up a profile with personally identifiable information that’s their own to give – not someone else’s.
eta:
this is something I was not aware of, and seems Not Right. (that is, morally suspect, not that you are factually incorrect)
eta2: ‘plain view’ is also that needs some reconsideration given advances in technology and the changing nature of interactions in ‘public spaces’, both real and virtual.Report
Well done and reasoned post. Thanks.
A few years ago I wrote a post about 2 of post-conceptual artist Heather Dewey-Hagborg’s projects concerning DNA. In the first, she made masks of people whose DNA she found in public places.
In the second, she developed 2 sprays, that when used together, either eliminated, or rendered unreadable trace DNA. While she considered these products part of an art project, rather than something offered commercially, it poses the possibility of products making one invisible on the DNA level, even if it seems impractical now.Report
That’s interesting. I’ll have to look that up.Report
Re: that loophole: even then, any privacy violation claim inures to the benefit of the family members who submitted their DNA, not to the suspect.
As to the other issue re: warrantless searches, all 4th amendment analyses come back to expectation of privacy, and the right to be secure in YOUR person and possessions,both of which are abated when you’re in someone else’s home. That’s the way the court has decided, anyway.
Now, as I said, the analysis can be different depending on the extent of your visit. Overnight guests, for instance, have a greater expectation of privacy than someone who pops over for dinner.Report
“Overnight guests, for instance, have a greater expectation of privacy than someone who pops over for dinner.”
Really? This seems counter-intuitive… I would think my expectation of privacy is rather more portable when I’m “popping over” somewhere vs. extended stays.
And thus an overnight guest would have more privacy expectations than, say, a month long boarder?Report
I can see that perspective. And you may have less expectation of privacy from the folks whose house you are in. But I think the rationale is that it’s more like your temporary “home” at that point, giving you more expectation to be free from outside intrusion.Report
@em-carpenter Why are they abated when you’re in someone else’s home? I mean, I get that they are, the mechanics or whatever, but if my backpack (for instance) is in someone else’s home, why is it less private than in my house or (I think?) in my car or on my person as I walk down the street? It’s still clearly in my possession, “contained” within the larger house… I mean, it’s not that I would expect the cops to have to tell the difference, but if you said, “hey, that’s my bag, you can’t touch it,” why wouldn’t that have some standing? i mean, i can see that you would then have to prove it was your bag.. but i can also see ways that could be done….
What is it about owning/renting a house (or staying in one longer-term) that’s special?
(I realize this is an elementary question but I was raised with a different privacy basis and it still baffles me.)Report
Your backpack, your purse, or your own person is different. Those would require consent or probable cause and you would absolutely have standing to object to a warrantless search.
In my hypothetical it was the search of the home itself to which you may not raise a valid legal objection. So, for instance, say a pile of cocaine is on your friend’s coffee table when the cops bust in, and you are all arrested. You can’t successfully argue that your 4th amendment rights were violated. I your purse is grabbed and searched against your wishes, you can object to that (generally, without getting into the weeds on searches for officer safety or “incident to arrest”.)
Does this make more sense?
If you own or rent or even just live in a place, it is your home under the law, your possession in which you have the right to be secure under the fourth amendment.Report
@em-carpenter Yes, it does. Thank you for explaining.Report
Doesn’t this present a weird catch-22?
“You don’t live here so you have no expectation of privacy. BUT you are here and drugs are here so you are legally responsible for their presence here.”
Huh?Report
Welcome to the world of criminal law.Report
“You don’t live here so you have no expectation of privacy. BUT you are here and drugs are here so you are legally responsible for their presence here.”
‘Possession’ isn’t whether or not you’re holding something, it’s whether or not you have any ‘control’ of it.
If you put _your_ cocaine out on someone else’s table, and everyone agrees that it is still your cocaine, you are still in possession of cocaine. If you give a third party permission to do a line, and they use a razor to arrange a line on the table to do, now they are in possession of that specific line, and you are in possession of the rest, even though it’s all just cocaine laying on the same table.
That doesn’t mean you can just be arrested for being near cocaine on a table in someone else’s house. Even if you know it’s there and it’s cocaine. As long as you do not, in any manner, control it.
This even applies, in theory, to cocaine on a table in your own home, although good luck asserting you don’t have any control over something in your own home. About the only way that works is if you can argue you literally were unaware of it…or I guess if they were going to sell it to you. (Because the fact they were going to exchange the cocaine for money rather implies you couldn’t have done anything with the cocaine _before_ giving them money.)Report
California v. Greenwood found, 6-2, that there is no reasonable expectation for privacy for the stuff you throw out.
You’re sloughing off skin cells and hairs and god only knows what else right now. When’s the last time you sneezed?Report
I don’t think anyone would argue there’s an expectation of privacy to the DNA the killer left behind. Not seriously, anyway.Report
It’s not the crime scene evidence; it what can be used for sources of information to match that evidence.
For instance, the way I see it (ianal) it would be perfectly legitimate under current rules to build a DNA snarfing Roomba, let it loose in a public place, then compare everything you’ve hoovered up with your existing crime scene database. Then use, say, traffic cameras to further figure out who you collected on if anything is flagged.
Heck just set up a camera in a public place, have it motion activated, then scoop up whatever is sloughed off (say on a handrail) as soon as someone passes, and synchronize this data automatically so you have a visual ID to go along with the physical trace.Report
I don’t understand any of the ‘search’ analogies being thrown around here at all. As far as I can tell, no one searched anything.
I don’t just mean ‘The police asked a third party for private information’, which is indeed some sort of dubious and privacy-implicating situation that maybe we should be worried about.
The police appear to have asked a third party for _public_ information. The entire point of people submitting this genetic information is to _be publicly matched_ to other people, right?
This wasn’t ‘We give the police permission to search our own space’, and their space coincided with the killer’s….this was ‘We have publicly documented something about us’, and that documentation also happened to show the killer.
This is akin to a library having people donate photo albums for public perusal, and the police looking through them and finding, in the background of one of them, an image of the killer killing someone.
On top of that…the idea that you own your own DNA information is inherently weird anyway. I understand why we have decided to force the framework of ‘owning’ information about you, to stop abuse by various companies, but putting DNA under that exposes what a weird paradigm that is…not only do you not have anything to do with the composition, and it does DNA not contain anything unique to you (Just the combination), but it is almost trivial to get.
This is what happens when we just keep extending the paradigm of ‘property’ from the real to the intellectual to…at this point it’s basically just informational. At some point, we need to come up with some other way to talking about ‘owning’ stuff that doesn’t really exist.Report
What constitutes a “search” is an issue that is fought about in court quite a bit and the results are not always what one would expect. For instance, a drug-sniffing dog being walked around your vehicle has been deemed NOT a search.
Interesting thought about not owning your own DNA. I’ll have to ponder that. What about your blood or your saliva? You can’t force anyone to turn those over without a warrant or court order or consent (though it can be collected when discarded). Doing so would be an illegal “search”.Report
Interesting thought about not owning your own DNA. I’ll have to ponder that. What about your blood or your saliva? You can’t force anyone to turn those over without a warrant or court order or consent (though it can be collected when discarded). Doing so would be an illegal “search”.
I wasn’t really saying we don’t ‘own’ our DNA as the law is currently, I honestly have no idea…I’m saying that property rights are a pretty poor framework to deal with things that are fundamentally privacy rights. I mean, they’re already somewhat over-extended dealing with intellectual property, but at least that is, in theory, something people creatively invented.
DNA, and, heck, all the personally identifying stuff like fingerprints and social security numbers and stuff like that, are not things the ‘owner’ invented. And they are fairly easy to get a hold of.
The entire idea of ‘property’ in the law is that we control it, that we can deny other people usage of it…but how do we control our DNA? We leave it laying around everywhere.
Technology keeps making it easier and easier to track people, and we sorta keep doing silly things to make it slightly more difficult. If we actually don’t want corporations or governments keeping track of things, we need to literally just _ban_ them from keeping track of those things, and not keep jumping from fingerprints to DNA to GPS phone tracking to facial recognization to tracking our computerized car to whatever is going to happen in the future.
Let’s figure out what personal information we are okay with having giant systemized databases of without our permission, and draw a line in the law.Report
I’m not sure if you are referring to my article here as using a property rights framework, -and I didn’t really intend it as a property analysis It was about privacy. But in search and seizure law (which this definitely is), the concepts intertwine.
The fourth amendment guarantees the right to be secure in our “persons, houses, papers, and effects”, broadly construed to include your car, your blood, your electronic data, email, etc. When we are talking about suppressing evidence in a criminal trial due to a 4A violation, standing is important. If it’s not yours, no expectation of privacy and no standing. If no expectation of privacy, no 4A violation.
I think it will be an easy call for a judge here as to the matching of DNA on the website, under either a privacy or property framework .Report
I’m reminded of the NSA meta-data phone records kerfuffle. Everyone was running around all freaked out about the NSA collecting “their” data. I understand and agree with the concerns about privacy and fishing expeditions and such but it struck me as wrong to call the records of your phone calls “your” data. The phone companies collected that data from the actions of their equipment in response to actions (dialing a number) initiated by the customers. It’s a record of stuff about you and stuff you did, but that doesn’t mean that it’s your data.
When the school photographer takes a picture of your kid that’s data about your kid, specifically an image of her face, but neither you nor your child own that image. That’s the copyrighted property of the photographer. On the other hand, the photographer can’t use that image for purposes beyond just selling you copies of it without your permission. So, yeah, it’s complicated. And I agree with @davidtc that property rights is a clumsy framework for analysis here.Report
What would be the objection to fingerprinting and DNA sampling everyone at birth and creating a database ? Would I like it? No. Would it violate my rights? Nots o sure.Report
As of now, doing so would require voluntary consent or court order. There are laws allowing fingerprints and DNA taken after arrest or convictions but I think a blanket policy of collecting that from everyone at birth would not meet a standard of compelling state interest sufficient to intrude on privacy. At least I hope not.Report