BlankWith my cell-phone number, a private eye found 150 pages on me Steven
Petrow, Special for USA Today
Our cell phone numbers are increasingly used for identity theft, the modern-day
linchpin to most personal data.
Now I know that first hand. After reporting on how phone number identity theft
had doubled last year, and warnings about how cell-phone numbers are being used
as the new Social Security numbers, I wanted to see how much was at stake.
I gave my cell number to private investigator Thomas Martin, a former federal
agent and now president of Martin Investigative Services in Newport Beach,
Calif., and asked him to do his thing. A few days later a three-pound,
150-plus-page dossier arrived at my front door via FedEx. Martin didn't trust
regular mail given the nature of what it contained, which was tons of my
private
information.
"We didn't even scratch the surface," Martin told me later. He also made a
point
of telling me that I was 'cleaner than a Safeway chicken.
Starting with just my cell phone number, Martin had obtained my full name,
Social Security number, and date of birth. Then came my home address'and every
address I've had since college. How much I'd paid for my house, the amount of
my
mortgage, my annual property taxes, even my driver's license number and the
Vehicle Identification Number of my car -- all in there.
The pi'ce de r'sistance, if you want to call it that: A financial overview that
includes bankruptcies, liens, foreclosures, and judgments. (I didn't have any.)
These days you have to protect your phone number like you do your Social
Security number.
Martin also put together a list of my social media pages. In the interest of
time he did not do a detailed search, but easily could have; employers
regularly
engage the company to do just that about new recruits and employees. If there
had been a picture of me at a gay nightclub (yep, I'm gay) he could have found
that, too, and some employers might use that to fire me (and in some two dozen
states it would be perfectly legal to do that).
"If you're on porn sites, we're probably going to find it," he added. He also
searched for "possible criminal records," turning up two leads. In his search,
which he told me several times was completely legal, Martin could determine if
I
had any hunting and weapon permits and whether I was on a global watch list.
Chillingly, my dossier included significant information about 'possible
relatives' and 'likely associates. That would be my parents, my siblings plus
their spouses and kids, other family members and neighbors. There was
information about the mother of one of my sisters-in-law, a woman who died 15
years ago. In short, the database search on me retrieved information about
this
distant relative all the way back to 1975'42 years ago.
The point: Data lives forever, even though we don't.
I also spoke with Eric Vanderburg, director of information systems and security
at Jurinnov, LLC, a data security firm for the legal and business communities.
I
wanted his take on the data Martin found.
"Once a phone number is included in this digital information trail, it becomes
part of the package and can be used to find all the other information about
that
person. That information is available to anyone who wants it at a cost," he
explained.
How much, I wondered.
Martin told me that his services start as low as $350 to verify identity, with
full searches like mine usually costing $950. (Disclosure: Martin did not
charge
USA Today for the cost of my search.)
Fortunately the federal Privacy Act of 1974 , the Fair Credit Reporting Act ,
and some state laws provide a bit of shade to a few bits of our personal data.
My tax returns weren't in the dossier, and since federal law prohibits the
release of educational information, the packet included nothing about my
schooling.
I guess that was some small relief. But everything in those pages was
discovered legally.
Martin was playing by the rules, but bad guys don't.
Vanderburg explained that criminals "maintain [their own] databases of
information on potential targets," because purchasing the information would
leave a paper trail. These databases, Vanderburg said, may contain information
that is illegal to collect, "such as former or current passwords, explicit
photos, personal data files, contact lists, and more."
And the core of all of this is your cell phone.
"I could never get your social media stuff with just your Social Security
number," Martin pointed out "because users aren't asked to provide it when
setting up new accounts. We are, however, asked for our phone numbers, which is
why certain indexes are only tied to the cell phone number."
What to do:
Beware of passive disclosure. We're constantly divulging our own data, clicking
'yes' to agreements that give up our phone numbers, search history, geolocation
information, IP address, computer operating system, and ads clicked on.
Don't let convenience overshadow security. Most of the time we don't even know
what we're revealing.
Be stingier about active disclosure.
Mail-in rebates, product registrations, coupons, credit requests, and discount
cards often ask for a phone number.
Vanderburg warns that "this information is stored in databases and sold," and
too often, it's hacked.
Don't play around. What Pok'mon character are you? What would your Star Wars
name be? What
celebrity do you most resemble?
You're likely to be lured into divulging information that can come back to
haunt
you, Vanderburg said.
My last piece of advice: Every time you're asked to give up your cell phone
number, ask this:
"What would I do if the request were for my Social Security number?"
If you wouldn't give that number out, don't disclose your phone number.
Oh, as for those criminal records that came up in my search.
The good news: both were for traffic infractions. The bad news: the database ;
doesn't indicate that. By the time I might get to explain myself to a potential
employer, admissions officer, or a new romantic interest, they may have moved
on -- leaving me behind.
USA TODAY columnist Steven Petrow offers advice about living in the digital
age.