In 2020, as the world grappled with the emergence of COVID-19, prisons and jails became hotspots for outbreaks. Looking to slow the spread of the disease, and under the threat of litigation, some jurisdictions began to look for alternatives to incarceration, turning to electronic monitoring as the answer.

Electronic monitoring typically uses GPS tracking systems in devices referred to as ankle bracelets, ankle shackles, or tethers to record the location of their wearers. This includes people awaiting trial, serving probation and parole, and facing immigration proceedings. Jurisdictions use this tracking technology to limit how long a person can stay outside and where they can go. Although COVID-19 created an even larger market for electronic surveillance, the government’s use of electronic monitoring was already on the rise. From 2005 to 2015, the number of active electronic monitors in use rose by 140 percent.

Jurisdictions’ decisions to normalize this technology is troubling for several reasons. Studies show that monitors fail to demonstrably meet their stated goals of ensuring court appearance, protecting public safety, and advancing rehabilitation. Instead, electronic monitoring expands mass incarceration, operating as a form of digital incarceration known as e-carceration, and leading people to physical jails and prisons for minor technical violations, charging malfunctions, and false alarms.

Electronic monitoring also exacerbates systemic inequities along lines of race, class, and disability. For example, in Detroit, Black people are two times more likely than white people to be electronically monitored. Depending on the jurisdiction, fees to wear these monitors range from $3-$35 a day, often in addition to initial setup charges, which can range from $100 to $200. The expensive fees compound and can amount to hundreds of dollars per month, overburdening households already dealing with the return of loved ones from incarceration. Furthermore, research shows that the stigma, social isolation, and stress that results from being monitored exacerbates depression and anxiety for wearers.

On September 29, the ACLU released Rethinking Electronic Monitoring: A Harm Reduction Guide, which calls on jurisdictions to replace electronic monitoring with less restrictive and more effective measures, such as court reminders and transportation assistance. The report also outlines ways jurisdictions can mitigate the harms of monitoring in accordance with due process and fairness principles. We urge jurisdictions to:

• Strictly limit the use of electronic monitoring
• Provide adequate notice and explanation of monitoring requirements
• Standardize appeals, review, and revocation proceedings
• Ensure access to counsel
• Eliminate discrimination based on wealth and housing status
• Reasonably accommodate people with disabilities
• Develop reasonable movement and expansion standards
• Provide credit for time served on electronic monitoring
• Ensure privacy and data protection
• Ensure adequate data collection and transparency

You can read the full report here. Defense attorneys can check out our resource with guidance on challenging pretrial electronic monitoring here. Below, three people share their stories of enduring electronic monitoring.

Credit: Michael Tafolla

When I was first released on an ankle monitor in July of 2018, I was approved for three days of movement, four hours each day, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. After a while, I got an internship at my university and a full-time job at a temp agency. But it was incredibly difficult to get my approved movement hours adjusted. I called my parole officer and they told me that I had to pick between the internship or the job with the temp agency. They said I was doing too much. I was having panic attacks because of this. I am trying to go to school. I am trying to work. I don’t understand the problem. You’re telling me I’m doing too much? I’m doing too much of what I’m supposed to do? You get out and you think you’re free and you’re going to be able to enjoy life, but now doing the most basic, necessary things like working and school become the most complicated.

I eventually got my movement hours expanded, but between the internship, school, and the job at the temp agency, I didn’t have time to do anything else. I couldn’t buy soap, I couldn’t buy clothes. I just did 20 years in prison, but I couldn’t go visit my parents. They had physical limitations and lived far away, it was too hard for them to come and see me. Every time I asked for additional movement, the parole officer denied me. Their point was that I shouldn’t be out of the house that much, no matter what I was doing. I was like, “why am I still being punished?”

With this lack of movement, you are putting a person in a worse situation, unintentionally. In my experience, in this county, it is near impossible to get movement time expanded for anything, even going to the hospital. I never want to say that being locked up is better than being at home, but you’re not letting people work or do anything. That’s why a lot of people cut off their monitor — because they can’t take it anymore. It just becomes too hard.

Credit: Shannan Davis

Being on the monitor has been very stressful. It’s a long cord that wraps around my leg and twists up in knots around me. The sheriff’s department had to come the other day and fix the bracelet because it was so loose. Now it’s on too tight. When I walk, my muscles contract and it almost feels like it’s going to break apart. I’m scared to ask them to loosen it again because every time I call, they give me an attitude. They have their comments about “You shouldn’t do drugs and you shouldn’t break the law.” I get it. But if you can’t understand somebody else’s way of life, then you shouldn’t be doing the job you’re doing. These people are supposed to protect and serve and they’re just hateful.

At the recovery house, I’m not allowed to leave because of a court order. I can’t go on group outings with the other girls staying here. I’m pretty much locked down in this house.

I’m not allowed to go to the store with the rest of the house. I’m not allowed to take a walk down the road for exercise. There are always staff members with the girls so we’re not unsupervised but, because of the way my bond is worded, I am not allowed to participate.

I also can’t pay for the monitor. It’s $105 a week to be on this thing, and my mom is paying for it. With electronic monitoring, they make it very hard for us to be where we need to be, to get to get the tools to live back in society. Like the other day when I got back from the doctor, all three lights on the monitor were going off and it did that for two to three hours. I couldn’t get a hold of anybody. The thing just goes off all day. It’s stressful because I think they’re going to come and pick me up and arrest me.

Since being on electronic monitoring, I have lost touch with my family. My dad and my grandparents live in Mexico. Most of our family events are in Mexico, but I can’t go. I’ve missed my sister’s wedding, my nephews’ birthdays. I don’t see my dad or grandparents unless they come up to Arizona. I try to FaceTime, but they aren’t good with technology. It has really disconnected me.

The more disconnected I get from people, the harder it is on me mentally; the worse I feel about myself. When you’re on electronic monitoring they say you are free, but you’re really jailed. It’s around 100 degrees six months out of the year in Arizona.

I can’t wear pants, so everyone sees the bracelet. Taking my nephew to a bounce house or going to the gym I am automatically judged. Moms pull kids away. You just feel bad.

I am worried about the money too. Until my case is resolved I don’t have to pay for the monitor, but I am afraid of the eventual price. Each monitor unit costs $1,740. I’ve probably water damaged a dozen or more because of my job as a boat captain. It wasn’t me having fun, it was me doing my work. There is a daily charge too, but I do not know how much it is. The case officer said, “You’re coming up on 3 years, that’s going to be really expensive.” Even if it’s $10 a day I would be paying $10k after 3 years. I don’t know when they will remove the monitor. Every day is more I have to pay. They can force a guilty plea out of someone because you owe so much money.

If I did not have the financial means and support, I would have already pleaded guilty. I can only imagine how many people do that. People lose their jobs because of electronic monitoring and they can’t pay for their house, or family, or kids. It’s a domino effect.

If you have ever assumed that information shared on a mental health app was confidential, you are in good company with many others who likely assume that sensitive medical information is always protected. This is not true, however, and it is important to understand why.

Many of us are familiar with or active users of some type of digital health application. Whether it is nutrition, fitness, sleep tracking, or mindfulness, the arena for apps that can help us track aspects of our health has never been bigger. Similarly, platforms that help us reach out to health care providers and receive virtual care have become more available, and often necessary, during the pandemic. Online therapy in particular has grown over the years, and became a critical resource for many people during quarantines and remote living.

Making health resources and care more accessible to people is vital, and the ease of accessing health resources right from your phone is obvious.

However, among the many, heavy implications of Roe v. Wade having been overturned are a number of digital privacy concerns. Significant focus recently has been on period-tracking or fertility apps, as well as location information, and reasonably so. On July 8, the House Oversight Committee submitted letters to data brokers and health companies “requesting information and documents regarding the collection and sale of personal reproductive health data.”

What has been less discussed is the large gap in legal protections for all types of medical information that is shared through digital platforms, all of which should be subject to regulations and better oversight.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) recently released updated guidance on cellphones, health information, and HIPAA, confirming that the HIPAA Privacy Rule does not apply to most health apps as they are not “covered entities” under the law.” The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) is a federal law that creates a privacy rule for our “medical records” and “other individually identifiable health information” during the flow of certain health care transactions. Most apps that are selected individually by the user are not covered — only platforms that are specifically used by or developed for traditional health care providers (i.e. a clinic’s digital patient portal where they send you messages or test results).

Mental health apps are a revealing example. Although some consider themselves to be covered by the HIPAA Privacy Rule, like other digital health apps, they generally are not bound by the privacy laws that apply to traditional health care providers. This is concerning especially because people often seek out mental health platforms specifically in order to discuss difficult or traumatic experiences with sensitive implications. HIPAA and state laws on this issue would need to be amended to specifically include digital app-based platforms as covered entities. For example, California currently has a bill pending that would bring mental health apps within the scope of their state medical information confidentiality law.

It is important to note that even HIPAA has exceptions for law enforcement, so bringing these apps within the scope of HIPAA would still not prevent government requests for this data. It would be more useful in regulating information that gets shared with data brokers and companies like Facebook and Google.

An example of information that does get shared is what is collected during an “intake questionnaire” that needs to be filled out on prominent services such as Talkspace and BetterHelp in order to be matched with a provider. The questions cover extremely sensitive information: gender identity, age, sexual orientation, mental health history (including details such as when or if you have thought about suicide, whether you have experienced panic attacks or have phobias), sleep habits, medications, current symptoms, etc. These intake answers were found by Jezebel to all be shared with an analytics company by BetterHelp, along with the approximate location and device of the user.

Another type is all the “metadata” (i.e. data about the data) about your usage of the app, and Consumer Reports discovered this can include the fact that you are a user of a mental health app. Jezebel found that other information shared by BetterHelp can include how long you are on the app, how long your sessions are with your therapist, how long you are sending messages on the app, what times you log in, what times you send messages/speak to your therapist, your approximate location, how often you open the app, and so on. Data brokers, Facebook, and Google were found to be among the recipients of other information shared from Talkspace and BetterHelp. Apps regularly justify sharing information about users if this data is “anonymized,” but anonymized data can easily be connected to you when combined with other information.

Along with the collection and sharing of this data, retention of the data by health apps is incredibly opaque. Several of these apps do not have clear policies on how long they retain your data, and there is no rule requiring them to. HIPAA does not create any records retention requirements — they are regulated by state laws and unlikely to include health apps as practitioners subject to them. For example, New York State requires licensed mental health practitioners to maintain records for at least six years, but the app itself is not a practitioner or licensed. Requesting deletion of your account or data also may not remove everything, but there is no way of knowing what remains. It is unclear how long sensitive information they collect and retain about you could be available at some future point to law enforcement.

1. Get care if you need it. Being aware of privacy gaps does not change the fact that your well-being and safety is critical. It can be difficult to find accessible, low-cost options for care, particularly mental health care.
2. When seeking care, inform yourself about the app you are using and think through which information is necessary for you to provide. For example, you could skip or answer “prefer not to say” (where available) for questions that could be especially sensitive for you (like gender identity or sexual orientation).
3. Be vigilant about claims that health apps make. They can say they are compliant with certain laws or practices but that may hide the fact that not all of the information you provide to them is protected by those laws.
4. See if there is an option to opt-out of cookies or analytics sharing on the app. This is not a perfect system but certainly worth doing if you can.
5. Use good, general digital privacy practices when using health services, including not connecting health apps to your other accounts (like Facebook), limiting location access as much as possible, and using secure messaging platforms to discuss or transfer sensitive health information in general.

The accessibility to care that these types of apps have created is more than critical, and everyone should seek the care they need, including via these platforms if they are the best option for you (and they are for many people). The important takeaway is to be as informed as possible when using them and to take the steps that are available to you to maximize your privacy.

Editor’s note: A previous version of this article implied that Talkspace shares a greater variety of metadata with data brokers than it does. The article has been updated to clarify that only some data is shared.

The midterm elections are coming, but voting can be confusing and overwhelming. People want to be good voters. They want to make informed choices about who to vote for and how to vote on issues. The rise of election disinformation, coupled with the billions of dollars spent on campaign advertisements, make it hard to sort through the facts. Voters are looking for trusted sources for information about what issues and candidates are on their ballots. That’s where you come in.

Successful campaigns are created by a blend of political art and science. Magic happens when a candidate connects with voters through passionate ideas about how to make the world a more equitable and just place, or a ballot measure gives people the power to vote directly for policy changes that will make their lives better. But campaign practitioners also use data analytics and experiments to run smarter, more effective campaigns. The science of campaigns allows us to hone our tactics so we can spend time, money, and energy on activities that will be most impactful on the election. Recent studies show that communication between people with pre-existing relationships and among social networks can have a positive effect on voter turnout because of the credibility inherent in personal relationships. In other words, a friend-to-friend conversation about the upcoming election can increase the likelihood that a person will vote, because they know and trust their friend.

This year our midterm strategy asks ACLU supporters like you to vote for your values, and then connect with your friends and family to urge them to fight for their rights by voting, too. A family member, friend, colleague, or acquaintance is a much better and more trusted messenger than a stranger, campaign ad, or social media post. Tests show that a friend-to-friend contact can increase voter turnout by up to 8 percent and have up to two times more impact than a cold call, text, or door knock. So if just 500 of our millions of ACLU supporters remind three friends to vote who otherwise wouldn’t have, that’s 1,500 additional voters this cycle. If 5,000 do so, we’ll be turning out 15,000 more voters. Remember, both Arizona and Georgia were won by less than 15,000 votes in 2020. So this can have a real impact.

And the best part? You can have an impact by doing something you already do every day — talking to the people you know. First, make a list of your people: friends, family, and community groups you are a part of; people you see regularly; and people you work with. Next, identify who on that list aligns with our ACLU values, but may not always vote. Then, let them know there’s an important election coming up and help them make a plan to vote (when, where, and how). Call them if you usually call them, text them if you typically text them, or talk to them when you see them next. We’ll also provide you with a conversation guide in the coming weeks that you can share with them.

Many competitive elections are decided by only a handful of votes or by fractions of a percent. Our rights are on the ballot this year, so we can’t leave any votes on the table by not reminding friends and family to vote. By talking with our existing networks about the upcoming election, ACLU supporters can make the difference in elections across the country to vote for our values and fight for our rights.