Yet again, the capabilities of new technologies are running ahead of society’s readiness to deal with them.
And, as so often happens, this has been highlighted not by some obvious and egregious violation, but instead by something that initially seems utterly trivial – a game.
Specifically, the virtual world rights and ownership implications of Pokémon Go, the free mobile game that has been the strongest argument yet for banning such virtual pastimes until AD 2364.
According to a handy online source of crucial Star Trek trivia, that's (apparently) the year in which the Federation government will start to install holodecks on Star Fleet vessels. In my humble opinion, people playing Pokémon Go need to be confined to a holodeck, so that the rest of us can have the real world back, please.
In the meantime, we have 348 years in which to address the annoying issue highlighted by the game: who owns – or at least has a say over – the virtual space that is mapped on to real-world environments?
The Guardian's Alex Hern explored this fascinating, but quite serious question last month, as the Pokémon Go phenomenon addled the brains of those over the age of seven. Suddenly, grown-ups were playing the game in totally inappropriate and deeply sensitive locations such as Arlington Cemetery and the Holocaust Museum in the US and – unbelievably – under the "Arbeit macht frei" sign above the former second World War concentration camp Auschwitz-Birkenau.
That's because playing the game involves not just chasing the little monsters overlaid onto real-world environments, as seen through the camera of a mobile device, but visiting specific Google Maps locations that function as special portals, stops or "gyms" within the game.
(The game also raises concerns about the volume and breadth of highly sensitive location data it can collect on a user. The game is free. If you aren’t paying for a digital service or product, you are the product.)
How do locations like Auschwitz end up in a game? Pokémon Go's creator, Niantic Labs, uses a proprietary database it developed while still a subsidiary of Google, in part developed for a previous creation from the company, the virtual reality game Ingress.
Poolbeg tagged
An inquest last May found that an Ingress “mission” was the cause of death of a man who fell – probably while looking at his phone – fractured his skull and drowned in the sea at Poolbeg Pier in the early morning hours of last September. Poolbeg Lighthouse had been tagged as a portal for Ingress.
Such accidents are tragic and rare, but certainly must contribute to a debate over how virtual locations are added to – and can be removed from – games. The watertower on the M50 was, at one point, a "portal" for Ingress too, but eventually was removed over concerns that it was too dangerous.
A hazardous site makes an obvious case for removal, as do sensitive and inappropriate locations such as a concentration camp or memorial cemetery. But the most difficult questions raised by this new virtual playground involve what initially seem the most mundane locations, such as the front of your home or the inside of your business.
Cities and towns, homeowners and small businesses – even a police station – have found they are tagged locations on Pokémon Go. And while you can (try to) bar people from walking on your front lawn or entering and exiting your business premises, you don’t actually own the virtual space around them, on which a game or other app might be mapped. (That said, some businesses are paying to be added as short-term stops, to entice players to buy something while they play).
Though you can ask Niantic to have a specific location removed from the game, this is hardly practicable long-term for individual requests, as virtual applications continue to evolve.
Virtual signage
Because, of course, Pokémon Go is just the beginning of a new era of 3D virtual applications. How else might your home or business, or public spaces, be co-opted by private companies, or authorities? While someone cannot stand in your business’s doorway with a protest sign, or advertise their competing business nearby, what about virtual signage?
Could your home be geotagged and overlaid with a big virtual noticeboard by someone in a personal dispute? Or by a council because you failed to properly dispose of your trash? Or by a business because you didn’t pay a bill?
What about you personally? The devices you carry all have specific identifying digital addresses. Could you be tagged with the virtual equivalent of an ASBO by the State, or heckled with a virtual kick-me sign by a detractor?
Some legal experts have predicted a rash of lawsuits will gradually sort out issues which only weeks ago must have seemed safely off in a distant, easily-dismissed Minority Report virtual future.
Now, thanks to a free gaming app, we must start considering them.
