That expression, “shoot first and ask questions later?” It may be solid advice in a shoot ‘em up action flick, but it’s no way to approach public policy. That seems to be what happened with Automated License Plate Readers, a powerful law enforcement surveillance tool that has popped up all over Idaho.

The problem is, I have questions- questions that needed to be answered before installing these omnipresent cameras. For starters, just how much privacy did we give up when Idaho cities and counties installed ALPRs? Do ALPRs make us safer? Does giving up privacy ever make us safer?

Judging from the backlash to ALPRs in Idaho and around the country, it’s clear ALPRs entered Idaho’s policing landscape without meaningful public input. I am glad folks aren’t shrugging and deciding it’s “too late” to change things.

As a person who wants to be Idaho’s next governor, I will pay close attention to the Town Hall meeting on September 19 about Pocatello’s ALPRs.

Despite misgivings, I have a genuine interest in learning how Idaho cities and counties have used this tool–often through contractual agreements with a company named Flock–as a sort of force multiplier.

I see the appeal to law enforcement. This powerful surveillance system can locate cars, in real time, that may be associated with serious crimes. But I also see the concern: the system has already been abused by insiders to stalk innocent people.

As debate rages, it’s important for a candidate running for governor to share some thoughts.

First, I believe it is dangerous to give powerful surveillance tools to our government to track citizens. Abuse is inevitable. Even if we decide the public safety value outweighs privacy rights (That’s a super high bar for me), we need crystal-clear transparency into their use. That transparency is no small measure if you consider that we’re dealing with law enforcement rules and government cultures that commonly stonewall public inquiry with lines like “we can’t provide details in an ongoing investigation” or “we can’t comment on personnel matters” or simply “we aren’t authorized to share that information.”

Transparency means real transparency, not double talk from an agency flak.

Second, since the stakes to our personal freedom are so high, I propose a moratorium on these surveillance tools until the public can learn who will use these tools and to what end. While we’re at it, let’s rethink how opaque we’ve allowed our law enforcement and prosecutors–along with city, county, and state governments–to become.

We can have security and safety along with transparency and accountability.

For the moment, I am encouraged by how willing folks are to step back and take a hard look at these surveillance tools. It was good to see the Clearwater County and Jerome County Sheriff’s Offices abandon their Flock contracts this month and reroute the money into safety patrols and good old human investigative work. I applaud the City of Wilder’s decision to put the issue to voters this fall. Numerous other jurisdictions are tackling the issue.

Debate over ALPR proliferation is a clear case of “better late than never.” The concern for this is real because this is no hypothetical threat to privacy. This is real-time and growing.

Sometimes being decisive means waiting to take action. So, when it comes to ALPRs, it’s time to slow down; don’t let profit-seekers pressure us into rash decisions, and really think about what we’re trying to accomplish.

As I said, it’s a high bar for me to give up individual freedom in return for the promise from our government and its partners in Big Tech to make us safer. I look forward to seeing how folks feel about that equation after the Pocatello town hall.