IN the past, I have willingly run the gauntlet of criticism from the data protection lobby over my robust championing of freedom of information.

My argument has always been that personal information held by a responsible agency is a matter of right and that I had no fear my bank, GP, parish – let alone Social Services or police authority would abuse it.

There are so many official records in existence, that if they serve to ensure a more streamlined administration, able to combat fraud and corruption, I’m all for it. If you’ve done nothing wrong, there’s no need to try to conceal your past. Of course, all this is predicated on the confidence of putting one’s trust in a well-oiled, principled operation which is both secure and willing to rectify any mistakes that creep into its systems.

So when we were faced with the invasion of the Google-snappers, I held my breath – and my tongue. I took account of the many expressions of support for the new service. After all, we all use maps, don’t we, and depend on accurate directions.

But then it emerged that the clever photo cars with their prying camera pillars were in fact able to pick up and collect not only spy-shots of the houses bordering the routes, but the private details of the inhabitants by tapping into wi-fi networks you and I use to transmit our normal electronic mail.

When challenged, came a pretty unconvincing defence on the lines of ‘not me, Guv, blame the technology’ which was the more rich given that the whole electronic fishing trip had been embarked upon without as much a by your leave to anyone in authority with the least sliver of guardianship of local privacy and responsibility.

Data protection didn’t know about the raid, States members were equally in the dark: the only tip-off appeared to be a letter of intent to the JEP, as if by some God-given right, all avenues could be explored at will. Now, I’d reckon that if any of us took a step ladder and peered unannounced over our neighbour’s fence, we’d certainly expect to have our collars felt by the local Honoraries in double-quick time.

Well, we’ve had the apology – such as it is – and assurance that the material now in alien possession can be disposed of. In the meantime, we’ve all seen the amusing and inventive cartoons, and maybe to date there is little specific evidence that miscreants have used the internet to target properties and their inhabitants.

But it would be naïve to believe that there’s not a sinister potential available – particularly now that the facility is being made accessible on mobile phones. So if not focusing on movements behind the curtains, crooks and perverts can at least feast on the environment and lifestyle of possible targets. And even if you’re not too worried about the fate of your inanimate possessions, think about the children and other vulnerable citizens whose movements can be remotely studied.

If there weren’t such a disturbing side to all this, it would certainly qualify for Monty Python sketch material. I’ve not seen them here, but back in the UK, the data collection agents included spy cyclists pedalling ungainly tower camera bikes along narrow, overgrown passageways between properties to ensure every nook and cranny was documented.

Maybe their use would appeal to our Parish Roads Committees to investigate unauthorised extensions and developments ‘off the beaten track’! Nevertheless, the whole episode, which relates to a far broader catchment than the Channel Islands, has sent shivers round potential victims in mainland Europe as well as our fellow Bailiwick.

Now, of course, this is not the same as the legitimate use of CCTV cameras to monitor activities in public places, the prospect of which has reportedly caused our Alderney cousins to fall off their bar stools in fear and loathing. It may be hard to justify the use of such technology in the crime-sparse narrow streets of St Anne – even if there’s a desire to check up on compliance with the new no-smoking regime due to come into force in June, but at least the issue was chewed over in the open before it ever got to the camera shop.

The UK in its new-found coalition glory is not now going to pursue the ID card road – more’s the pity, as in countries where such devices are in operation, they do offer a reasonably swift and efficient checking mechanism. Still, as we know, so long as we are legitimate citizens, it is not too difficult to organise a cross check of other stored data to establish our bona fides. Which then makes you wonder why the authorities are persisting with inflicting repetitive form-filling injury on those upright, generous and courageous souls prepared to volunteer to organise services and activities for the otherwise overlooked sections of the community.

Surveillance and security will always be sensitive issues. We are all becoming acutely aware of the potential hazards that lie in wait for those who subscribe to social networking sites, but when it comes down to it, signing up is a personal choice, and any consequent leaking of private information is, well, a personal matter.

Mapping the planet is one thing, netting information from personal emails and websites is something quite different. Even if you consider our ‘Googlegate’ was little more than a harmless mistake and that institutional voyeurism is the best game in town, you can’t blame our Data Protection commissioner for raising concerns about a fundamental breach of privacy. The point is, all this was collected without the knowledge – let alone the permission, of the individuals most likely to be affected.