National Geographic

THEY ARE WATCHING YOU 35TAKING THE LONG VIEWTo demonstrate the capabilities of Islington’s CCTVV\VWHPRƅFLDOVDJUHHGWRWUDFNDPDQKLUHGE\National Geographic as he strolled down Goswell5RDG,QWKHVHWZRYLHZVDKLJKGHƃQLWLRQFDPHUDSXOOVEDFNWRRƂHUWKHZLGHVWYDQWDJHDQGWKHQzooms in for a close-up shot from a distance that’sPRUHWKDQWKHOHQJWKRIWKUHHVRFFHUƃHOGVTOBY SMITH WITH ISLINGTON CCTV CONTROL ROOMdeath. Later today in Finsbury Park, the cameraswould spend hours panning across 35,000 festi-valgoers in search of pickpockets, drunken brawl-ers, and other assorted agents of petty mischief.For the moment, however, the bikers are theonly action in Islington. And though Sal andEric—who have been doing this work for 15 andfour years, respectively—pursue their quarryfrom one camera to the next with humdrum effi-ciency, I can almost see their blood quicken. Forwhat we have here, they believe, are two mem-bers of gangs that have been plaguing Islingtonfor more than a year. They snatch smartphonesfrom pedestrians, then sell the items on the blackmarket. It happens about 50 times a week in theborough of nearly 233,000 residents.And yet to the uninitiated, the prospect ofcatching the bikers in an illegal act can feel al-most irrelevant. Instead, I’m captivated by thebasic spectacle of two people who appear to haveno idea they’re being watched everywhere theygo. Perhaps they’re criminals. Perhaps they’resociopaths. Our surveillance is inconclusive onthese matters. The only thing that’s certain isthat we see them but they don’t see us. Like adeer framed in a hunting riflescope, the bikersdisplay no signs of their vulnerability. In this waythey are profoundly exposed.That evening a few miles away, I’m sitting in amobile trailer in southwest London, just down thestreet from the Vauxhall Underground Station. Be-side me is an affable young man who goes by thename of Haz. Several closed-circuit screens are ar-rayed in front of us, displaying images provided by10 cameras aimed at two nearby nightclubs.Haz is here a couple of weekends a month.The nightclubs, Lightbox and Fire, wish to avoidlegal troubles from drug deals by their patrons,so they’ve commissioned a mobile CCTV oper-ator and former policeman, Gordon Tyerman,to have his man Haz keep an eye on the crowds.Occasionally a clubgoer happens to notice one of