SINGAPORE: A recent incident involving a man purportedly wearing smart glasses while trailing female students near Raffles Institution has ignited a fervent public discussion about privacy in the digital age, the legality of filming strangers in public, and the increasingly sophisticated capabilities of wearable technology. The circulation of a video on social media depicting the man, who appeared to be subtly manipulating his black-rimmed glasses and holding his mobile phone close to his chest, swiftly prompted a police report and shone a spotlight on a burgeoning area of legal and ethical concern.

The incident is particularly salient given the rapid evolution of smart glasses – devices that seamlessly integrate cameras, microphones, and communication functionalities into everyday eyewear. These gadgets, capable of discreetly capturing photos, recording videos, and even making calls, have become a new frontier in the ongoing debate between technological convenience and individual privacy. The growing unease surrounding covert recording capabilities was underscored by technology giant Meta’s recent release of a camera-free version of its smart glasses, a move that signals an industry acknowledgement of these pervasive privacy concerns. As these high-tech spectacles become more commonplace on store shelves, the question of when filming in public crosses the line becomes increasingly complex, prompting legal experts in Singapore to weigh in on the nuanced legal framework governing such acts.

Is it illegal to film others in public without their consent?

In Singapore, the act of filming in public is not inherently illegal, primarily because individuals generally possess no absolute expectation of privacy when they are in public spaces, visible to others. As Ms Joyce Khoo, a senior associate lawyer at Quahe Woo and Palmer, explains, the very nature of public visibility implies a diminished right to privacy. However, this general principle is not without its critical caveats. The legality of filming can quickly dissolve if the act is performed in a manner deemed voyeuristic, intrusive, or if it infringes upon a person’s personal space and dignity.

This threshold is crossed, for instance, when filming targets an individual’s private areas, whether bare or clothed, or when it captures them engaged in private acts such as showering or using a toilet. Such acts are unequivocally illegal, often falling under voyeurism offences within the Penal Code. Furthermore, filming in public can transition into an unlawful act if it forms part of a pattern of harassment or stalking, or if it is coupled with other illegal behaviours, such as entering a toilet designated for the opposite gender with malicious intent. The context and intent behind the filming are paramount in determining its legality.

Mr. Cory Wong, director at Invictus Law, emphasises that the intent of the filmer can often be inferred from their actions and the surrounding circumstances. For example, if filming occurs on two or more distinct occasions, or if it is a single, prolonged and persistent act targeting an individual, it could very well constitute stalking under Singapore’s Protection from Harassment Act (POHA). POHA, enacted to protect individuals from harassment and related undesirable behaviours, provides a crucial legal avenue for victims. Wong elaborates, “It is hard to argue that a voyeuristic, persistent or protracted act of filming was done without any ill intent. There is also the aggravating factor of vulnerable victims if minors are the ones being filmed.” This highlights the heightened legal scrutiny and severe penalties associated with filming minors, who are considered particularly vulnerable. The law provides additional protections for children, reflecting societal values and the potential for greater harm.

The concept of a "reasonable expectation of privacy" is crucial here. While a person may not expect absolute privacy on a bustling street, they might reasonably expect it in more secluded public areas, or certainly not to be subject to close-up, intrusive filming that focuses on intimate body parts or private activities, even if performed in a public setting. The line is fine but distinct, moving from general public observation to targeted, intrusive surveillance.

What happens when the footage is posted online?

The legal implications do not cease with the act of filming itself. Even if the initial recording was deemed lawful, the subsequent act of posting that footage online can open up a new Pandora’s Box of legal liabilities. As Ms Khoo cautions, online dissemination can cross the line into illegality if it results in harassment, defamation, or the misuse of personal data. The internet’s vast reach and permanence amplify the potential for harm, transforming a momentary capture into a lasting digital footprint that can cause significant distress.

Under POHA, an individual can be held liable if they post identifiable footage that causes another person "harassment, alarm or distress." This provision is critical in curbing online abuse and ensuring that individuals are not subjected to undue emotional or psychological harm through the publication of their images or videos without consent. The threshold for "harassment, alarm or distress" is determined by the courts based on the specific facts of each case, considering the impact on a reasonable person.

Furthermore, the Films Act comes into play if the published material is deemed obscene. Singapore has stringent laws against the distribution of obscene materials, and footage that is sexually explicit, highly suggestive, or otherwise offensive by community standards, regardless of how it was obtained, can lead to severe penalties.

Ms Noelle Teoh, an associate lawyer at Gloria James-Civetta and Co, clarifies that there is no blanket legal requirement for a person’s face to be blurred simply because they did not consent to being filmed in public. This means that if the filming itself was lawful, the individual’s image, if captured incidentally and without malicious intent, might not require obscuration before being shared. However, a strong ethical and practical consideration often overrides this. Where identification serves no justifiable purpose, particularly in sensitive situations or when children are involved, blurring faces is considered a "sensible precaution." This not only mitigates potential legal risks but also demonstrates a commitment to privacy and ethical conduct.

The act of publishing footage that identifies or allows others to identify an individual, especially when done with the explicit intention of causing harassment, alarm, distress, or humiliation, can amount to doxxing. Doxxing, explicitly addressed under POHA, involves the malicious publication of personal information. However, not every post containing identifying details constitutes doxxing. For example, Ms Teoh illustrates, someone recording a car driven recklessly and posting the footage online, showing the vehicle and its registration number, would not necessarily be doxxing the driver, especially if the driver is not personally identified. The situation changes dramatically, she notes, “if additional information is published which identifies the driver and the circumstances indicate an intention to subject that person to harassment or humiliation.” This distinction underscores the importance of intent and context in doxxing cases. The intent to cause harm is a critical element that elevates mere identification to a punishable offense.

The Personal Data Protection Act (PDPA) also hovers over these discussions, though its primary focus is on organisations and their handling of personal data. While the PDPA generally exempts individuals acting in a personal or domestic capacity, if the footage is collected, used, or disclosed for commercial purposes, or if the individual is acting as part of an organisation, then the PDPA’s rules on consent, purpose, and protection of personal data would apply. This adds another layer of complexity to the digital dissemination of public footage.

How do smart glasses play into legal and privacy concerns?

The advent of smart glasses introduces a new dimension to these legal and privacy discussions, primarily due to their capacity for covert recording. Lawyers note that these devices make it significantly harder for individuals to detect when they are being filmed, allowing for prolonged periods of recording without drawing attention. Unlike a smartphone, which typically requires being held up and is overtly visible, smart glasses blend seamlessly into everyday attire, making their recording function almost imperceptible to an unsuspecting public. This stealth capability is precisely what fuels growing privacy concerns.

Mr Wong asserts that Singapore’s existing criminal laws are sufficiently broad to encompass the unlawful use of smart glasses and other wearable cameras. The technology itself is not illegal, but its misuse falls under the purview of established statutes. However, he adds a critical point: using such technology to evade detection or to conceal an offence is a long-recognised aggravating factor in legal proceedings. This means that if a person uses smart glasses to commit an illegal act, the surreptitious nature of the device can lead to a more severe sentence, reflecting the added culpability of deliberate evasion.

Ms Teoh concurs that the technology itself is not inherently unlawful. She explains, “Existing laws on matters such as voyeurism, harassment and data protection can apply regardless of the device used.” This reinforces the principle that the law targets the act and its intent, rather than the specific tool employed. However, the unique characteristics of wearable recording technology necessitate a closer examination of how these laws are applied and whether they remain adequate.

As wearable recording technology becomes increasingly discreet and sophisticated, with advancements in miniaturisation, battery life, and even AI-powered analysis, the question arises whether existing laws, regulations, or industry practices will need to evolve further. Ms Teoh points to international examples, such as Japan, where many mobile phones are designed with a non-mutable shutter sound to deter covert photography, particularly in sensitive public spaces. This serves as a product design safeguard, making the act of photography more apparent.

Similarly, manufacturers of smart glasses, responding to privacy concerns, have begun incorporating visible recording indicators. For instance, Ray-Ban Meta glasses feature an outward-facing capture light that illuminates when photos or videos are being taken. This design choice aims to provide a visual cue to those around the user, signalling that recording is in progress. Ms Teoh observes, “These examples show that the response to new recording technology may not necessarily come only through legislation, but also through product design, industry standards and other safeguards intended to make recording more apparent to those around the user.” This multi-faceted approach, combining legal frameworks with technological solutions and industry best practices, is crucial for navigating the complex privacy landscape presented by wearable tech. However, the effectiveness of such indicators can be debated, especially in low-light conditions or if they are easily obstructed or tampered with.

What can I do if someone is filming me in public without my consent?

For individuals who suspect they are being filmed in public without their consent, particularly in a manner that feels intrusive or threatening, the immediate priority should always be personal safety. Mr Wong advises that the first and most prudent step is to report the matter to the authorities, such as the police, or to security personnel if the incident occurs on private premises (e.g., shopping malls, transport hubs).

While it is natural to want to confront the person or inspect their device, Mr Wong clarifies that the person being filmed does not automatically possess the right to "pry into the contents" of the suspect’s recording device. The suspect is legally entitled to refuse such a request. However, once law enforcement authorities intervene, the situation changes significantly. "Once the authorities step in, the authorities then have the powers to investigate and to seize the suspect’s handphone for digital forensic examination. At that point in time, the suspect’s refusal to cooperate or to comply can subsequently be used against him in court," he explains. This highlights the importance of involving the proper channels, as they possess the legal authority to compel cooperation and collect evidence.

Ms Teoh strongly reiterates the advice to prioritise personal safety. She cautions against physical confrontation or attempting to seize the suspect’s device, as such actions could escalate the situation or even lead to legal repercussions for the person being filmed. Instead, she advises individuals to discreetly gather evidence. Where possible, preserve details of what occurred, such as the exact time and location of the incident, a detailed description of the suspect (including clothing, distinguishing features, and any vehicle details), and if the footage is subsequently posted online, screenshots or links to the publication. This material can be invaluable for a police report or if the individual decides to pursue legal action, providing concrete evidence to support their claims. Seeking out witnesses and obtaining their contact information can also strengthen a case.

Can I seek protection under POHA?

The Protection from Harassment Act (POHA) offers a crucial legal recourse for victims of harassment, including those subjected to unlawful filming or the online dissemination of harmful footage. To obtain a protection order under POHA, an applicant must demonstrate to the court that harassment has indeed occurred, that it is likely to continue or recur, and that the court considers it just and equitable to grant the order. This involves presenting compelling evidence and establishing a clear pattern of behaviour or a significant single incident.

Ms Teoh explains that when assessing whether filming constitutes harassment under POHA, the court will consider a range of factors. These include the frequency and duration of the behaviour, the manner in which it was carried out (e.g., discreetly, aggressively), the surrounding circumstances (e.g., public vs. semi-private space, nature of the location), and crucially, its likely effects on the victim. The legal analysis is nuanced, distinguishing between accidental capture and deliberate targeting. “So, the legal analysis may be quite different between a tourist inadvertently capturing another person in the background of a photograph and someone deliberately and repeatedly following a particular person while recording them,” she clarifies. The latter scenario, involving targeted and persistent recording, is far more likely to meet the threshold for harassment.

In cases where harmful footage is posted online, victims of certain online harms also have an additional avenue for relief through the Online Safety Commission (OSC), established under the Online Safety (Relief and Accountability) Act (OSRA). Under this Act, the Commissioner has significant powers to intervene. Where the requirements are met, the Commissioner may order harmful content to be taken down or access to an offending account restricted. This provides a swifter mechanism for removing distressing online content, complementing the more extensive legal proceedings available under POHA for prosecuting perpetrators and securing protection orders. The OSC’s role is particularly vital in addressing the rapid spread of harmful content online and providing victims with a means to mitigate the immediate impact of such publications.

The incident involving smart glasses and female students in Singapore serves as a powerful reminder of the delicate balance between technological innovation and fundamental rights to privacy and safety. While smart glasses offer exciting possibilities, their capacity for discreet recording demands heightened vigilance from both the public and legal authorities. Singapore’s robust legal framework, encompassing the Penal Code, POHA, Films Act, and OSRA, provides multiple layers of protection against misuse. However, the evolving nature of wearable technology necessitates continuous re-evaluation and adaptation of laws, alongside industry commitment to ethical design and public education. Ultimately, fostering a culture of responsible technology use and robust privacy awareness will be key to navigating this increasingly complex digital landscape, ensuring that innovation does not come at the expense of individual security and peace of mind.

By Jet Lee

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *