Body-worn cameras and the Data Protection Act
Dear Editor,
I welcome Dr Jason McKay’s response — published in this newspaper on February 1 — to my earlier letter on January 26 and appreciate his willingness to engage in what should be a healthy and constructive debate.
Open discussion on policing matters can only serve to enlighten both the public and the men and women of the Jamaica Constabulary Force (JCF) who will be using Axis III body-worn cameras in the execution of their duties. My reason for responding again is a simple one: When issues of public safety, legality, and police accountability are discussed in the public domain, it is critical that what is written — and therefore read — is correct in both fact and law.
I write in response to Dr McKay’s further commentary on body-worn cameras. Robust public debate on policing policy is healthy, but when claims are made about legality and public risk, accuracy matters. Portions of Dr McKay’s article risk, in my opinion, misleading the public by mischaracterising both the technology and the Data Protection Act.
At the outset, it is important to be clear about what is — and is not — in dispute. My original concern was not that the JCF currently permits officers to disable visible recording indicators. It does not. My concern was with the inference created that body-worn cameras are inherently dangerous or unlawful because such indicators “cannot” be disabled. That inference is incorrect and conflates policy choices with legal or technological limits.
I should also acknowledge that Dr McKay is correct in one respect. The Jamaica Constabulary Force Policy and Procedures on Body-Worn Cameras (2017) states that employees shall ensure the status light on the device is on when it is activated. If this remains the current policy, then it is a matter of procedure rather than technology. Policies are not static, they evolve as operational experience grows.
It would be entirely reasonable for the JCF to review and update that guidance to provide that during pre-planned operations — particularly those conducted at night when the element of surprise is operationally essential — body-worn cameras may be placed in authorised stealth mode so that they continue recording without emitting visible lights or sounds. Such a policy refinement would enhance officer safety while preserving the evidential and accountability benefits of body-worn cameras.
Much of Dr McKay’s argument relies on the Data Protection Act as a reason body-worn cameras may be unlawful or incompatible with policing. That is a misreading of Jamaican law. Part V of the Data Protection Act expressly recognises the processing of personal data for the prevention, detection, investigation, and prosecution of crime. It further provides exemptions from certain requirements of the Act when applying them would be likely to prejudice those policing purposes.
The Act does not prohibit the JCF from recording lawful police activity, and it does not render body-worn cameras unlawful because they capture personal data. What the Act does is regulate how such data is handled — including storage, access, retention, and disclosure.
Equally problematic is the comparison drawn between body-worn cameras and JamaicaEye closed-circuit television (CCTV) cameras. JamaicaEye is a fixed, area-wide public surveillance system capturing the movements of the general public in public spaces. Body-worn cameras are officer-activated evidential tools used during defined police encounters, searches, arrests, and investigations.
The article also frames the debate as a choice between transparency and officer safety. That framing is false. Jamaican policing already operates on context-specific rules. Firearms units, tactical teams, and officers executing high-risk warrants do not operate under identical procedures to routine patrols.
Dr McKay further suggests that because shootings during home entries are statistically rare, it is disproportionate to shape policy around such risks. That is not how risk is responsibly managed in policing. Officers wear ballistic vests, carry radios, and receive tactical training not because violent encounters are routine, but because when they occur the consequences are irreversible.
There is also the implication that recording police activity inside private homes is inherently belittling or unlawful. Police searches and entries are intrusive by their nature; recording them does not create that intrusion — it documents it. Properly governed, body-worn cameras protect civilians from misconduct and officers from false allegations.
This discussion should not become a slanging match, nor should it descend into alarmist claims about legality. Jamaica’s policing challenges are serious, and body-worn cameras are an important accountability tool. The Data Protection Act does not outlaw body-worn cameras, it provides a framework to ensure they are used responsibly.
Mark Shields
Former deputy commissioner of police
Managing director
Shields Crime and Security
mark@shieldscsc.com