When the human rights conventions were drafted 50 years ago, the right to privacy looked an oddity. It was less obviously vital than freedom from torture or the right to free speech and, for some years, it attracted little attention. However, in the digital age, this has dramatically changed and nowhere more so than in Britain, which now has the most invasive surveillance and the worst protection of privacy of any advanced democracy. Last month, the European Court of Human Rights ruled that the British police practice of retaining indefinitely compulsory DNA samples taken from every arrested person - including many subsequently released without charge, or acquitted - was unlawful, being an unreasonable interference with personal privacy. Meanwhile, the charity Rowntree Trust has just examined 46 large government computer databases, and found that only six of them comply with the privacy law, while 10 are so defective that they can never be made compliant. Computerised databases are essential and most are, in principle, unobjectionable. But, unless they are designed and operated with sensitivity to privacy concerns, they pose grave dangers. Data may be stolen for criminal or intrusive commercial purposes, or out of prurient curiosity, or it may be lost. In 2007, a civil servant lost a memory stick containing details of 25 million British households receiving state benefits. Finally, there is the risk of misuse of the data by the government agencies themselves. Many databases provide no opportunity for people to check the data held on them, which may be inaccurate, widely disseminated and damaging. Another threat to privacy is the spectacular increase in surveillance by CCTV cameras. CCTV was popular as a way of reducing street crime, but has become more pervasive and uncontrolled than anyone expected. A special control room monitors cameras on most London streets. Data from the cameras may be kept indefinitely. Some argue that the law-abiding citizen has nothing to fear from this. Experience suggests otherwise. Quite apart from all the embarrassing, but in no way criminal, moments which most of us would rather not have filmed, a Mr Peck had good reason to complain after he attempted, in the street, to kill himself by slashing his wrists with a knife. He survived the suicide attempt, only to find a CCTV photo of himself, holding the knife, broadcast on prime-time television as an example of CCTV cameras curbing knife crime. Mr Peck brought legal proceedings against the council whose camera took the photo, but had to go all the way to the European Court of Human Rights to obtain redress. CCTV roadside speed cameras are now linked in real time to databases that identify details of the car owner and whether he or she is disqualified or the car unlicensed. Maybe no one legally on the road has anything to fear. But the vast power given to the authorities by such detailed information about every citizen is open to frightening abuse, and experience tells us that uncontrolled power is always abused. British police lost a court case this week after objecting to renewal of a pub licence because the publican refused to install CCTV to watch the customers. Unabashed, the police announced that they would continue to object to all licence renewals where the licensee did not agree to install CCTV. Meanwhile, the government is proposing, against the opposition of Britain's information commissioner, to require internet service providers to save and disclose to the government on demand details of every e-mail sent by every person in the country. These developments are driven by out-of-control new technology, by fear of terrorism, and by a government lacking vision or understanding of the issues. Paul Harris SC is a barrister and was the founding chairman of Hong Kong Human Rights Monitor