The phrase “practical obscurity” means that you are anonymous. In effect, that your actions are, for practical purposes, obscured from observation. It is derived from a Supreme Court case, Department of Justice v. Reporter’s Committee for the Freedom of the Press, the origin of the phrase is instructive in illuminating the change in technology.
Back in the late 1980s — the veritable dawn of time for computers — the Department of Justice went to a great deal of trouble to create a database with information about the criminal records of known offenders. At the time, such records were kept in disparate databases that were not connected to each other—arrest records might be held by a local police station, charging records by a district attorney, and disposition and sentencing records by a state court. Federal records were, of course, held by still other law enforcement, attorney, and court institutions.
All these records were generally public and, in theory, available for inspection by the press or private citizens. But in practice the records were so widely scattered among so many data-holders that no newspaper or individual could incur the expense of finding all the information and creating a comprehensive dossier on any individual. They were, in a phrase, “practically obscure.” Only the Federal government had the degree of need and adequacy of resources to undertake the task of creating, at great expense, the precursor of what is today the National Crime Information Center. At very great cost, the Department of Justice began the collection of criminal records on a small number of criminals who were of national interest.
The Reporter’s Committee case was a powerful expression of the strength of the paradigm of “practical obscurity.” A CBS news correspondent and a press organization filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the Department of Justice asking for the collated dossier, or “rap sheet,” on alleged Mafia figures. Their reasoning was, it seems, quite persuasive; since the information was all public when found in disparate databases, it did not lose that public character when collected by the Federal government. And, if it was public information, then it was clearly subject to disclosure under the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA).
The Department denied the FOIA request, and a unanimous Supreme Court — whose membership at the time included jurists ranging from liberal Justice Brennan to conservative Justice Rehnquist — upheld the denial. According to the Court, “Plainly there is a vast difference between the public records that might be found after a diligent search of courthouse files, county archives, and local police stations throughout the country and a computerized summary located in a single clearinghouse of information.” Because of that difference, the Court concluded that the “privacy interest in maintaining the practical obscurity of rap-sheet information will always be high.”
