Between Progress and Exclusion: The Human Rights Challenges of Digital ID

National digital identification systems (often referred to by the broader term “Digital ID”) are digital public infrastructures (and legal frameworks) that are used by states as a tool to manage the identification of individuals and – often through digitized biometrics – enable and control their access to services, spaces, and processes. In recent years, as part of the digital transformation of government services, the developing world has seen the rise of such national digital identity systems, promoted by the World Bank, frantically adopted by governments, and enthusiastically supported by tech companies. This trend is driven by the conviction that Digital ID will accelerate (or “leapfrog”) development. 

While there are undeniable benefits, often not enough is done to shield privacy, embed protection safeguards, and include vulnerable communities such as minorities, stateless, displaced persons, and other at-risk groups. This has led to legal challenges, such as in Ndaga Muntu in Uganda, the Huduma and Maisha Namba in Kenya, NIRA in Jamaica, Aadhaar in India, and the ID blocking case in South Africa.

Indeed, identity issues lie deeply within the heart of human rights protection, and their digital transformation may be as risky as a heart surgery for some.

Digital Identity Dilemmas

My journey with digital identification began in the village of Çabër/Čabra in Kosovo in late 1999. It had been razed to the ground by the Serbian Army, and I was tasked with registering its inhabitants in the new UN digital civil registry using a mobile office. The technology was far from perfect. During the ensuing 2000 elections, in nearby Mitrovica, the result bordered on disaster when crowds gathered in front of the polling stations and election officers were unable to match pictures with often-misspelled last names. 

Later on, in 2001 post-war East Timor, I drove mountain roads in a shaky Tata 4×4 truck to digitally register the identities of Indigenous peoples. These had a puzzling mix of traditional and Portuguese last names, often unknown dates of birth, and unusual family structures. They were eager to have their photo taken for their new UN-sponsored ID – The photo was what they really cared about, as they often had none themselves. The pictures were of such bad quality – black and white and distorted in either melon or cucumber shapes – that those queuing would often laugh their hearts out. I did a similar project for the Norwegian Refugee Council in 2015 in Myanmar, this time with paper based cards, however, discriminatory laws blocked many people from getting IDs. Then, the military coup in February 2021 brought any progress to a halt.   

No Digital ID, No Doctor

Since then, I have been preoccupied with how Digital ID is impacting people elsewhere. There are reasons to worry. Imagine a scene in a rural village in Uganda: A pregnant woman urgently needs medical attention but is turned away because she does not possess the required Digital ID (the Ndaga Muntu card). Meanwhile, in a remote Indian hamlet, an elderly man is denied his food ration because a biometric reader cannot recognize his eroded fingerprints. In South Africa recently, nearly 2 million people saw their Digital ID’s unfairly blocked by the government. Digital systems fail, and when they – innocently or not – fail to identify and authorize users of public services like health or social welfare, the results can be deadly. 

A High Risk Territory for Human Rights

The implementation of Digital ID is a high risk territory for human rights. Harms posed by Digital ID systems include, among others:

1. Exclusion: Through inadequate enrolment procedures, inadequate laws, excessive requirements, disregard for contexts with a digital divide, technical failures, and instances of digital administrative violence, Digital ID perpetuates the structural exclusion of vulnerable groups, leading sometimes to statelessness. Moreover, their mandatory character sometimes leads to savage conditionalities, preventing people from accessing health and other fundamental human rights. In this sense, civil society actors widely agree that public institutions should not require mandatory enrollment in digital identification systems or require the use of digital ID to access public services.

2. Data Protection and Privacy: Mass digital identification implemented without solid protections leads to the abusive collection and use of data and easily violates privacy and data protection.

3. Lack of Participation: The design, deployment, implementation and governance of these systems is often driven by powerful financial and private interests, with little public consultation.

4. Inadequate Remedial Avenues: Digital ID can obscure access to effective remedies, which may not even be contemplated.

5. Surveillance and Weaponization: Digital IDs, especially those that integrate biometric data, can be used to track individuals’ movements, purchases, and online activities without their knowledge or consent. Governments may also unduly target specific individuals, using Digital ID blockage or other methods as a weapon against political opponents or vulnerable groups such as migrants.

The Perils of Digital ID in War Scenarios

While these threats are significant in developing (and developed) nations, their scale is likely to be even more pronounced in contexts marked by civil wars, coups d’état, or illiberal regimes. For instance, in Myanmar, military authorities are implementing a Digital ID project with assistance from China and India, further entrenching the discriminatory 1982 Citizenship Law – this is leading to mass statelessness and providing them with an additional weapon against democratic forces.

Will the UN Digital Public Infrastructure Safeguards Do the Job?

After the rush for mass digital identification, it is crucial to step back and assess the human rights risks implied. The UN is currently developing a set of Digital Public Infrastructure Safeguards intended to mitigate negative impacts (somewhat post factum). However, without robust collective, strategic action from civil society organizations, in-depth research into the lived experiences of those affected, and improved accountability mechanisms, the Kafkaesque experiences of those facing digital barriers will go on.