Commentary
I’ll never forget July 18, 1983.
It was my first day on the job at the Communications Security Establishment, Canada’s signals intelligence (SIGINT) agency. I was all of 22 years old, days out of an MA from Western University and ready to start my first full-time job as a translator at the Department of National Defence (at least that is what I had been told). Now I was getting my indoctrination into what I was really being asked to do: Read sensitive intercepted signals and extract intelligence to be forwarded to senior government officials to help keep Canada safe.
A large, imposing ex-RCMP officer I’ll call Joe was walking me through the position and what my obligations were. At the end, as my mind struggled to take in what I was hearing, he looked at me and said: “Son (yes, he called me “son”), you are going to get access to some very sensitive material which must be protected. If you choose to share any of it outside of work you’ll get 14 years in the slammer!” What in heaven’s name had I signed up for?…