Yesterday, we published a piece about the 24-year-old, self-taught programmer who’s sparked uproar at police departments around the state by requesting massive amounts of police videos and other public documents, ultimately leading to an unprecedented partnership with Seattle police. The programmer talked at length to Seattle Weekly on the condition that we not disclose his name. A self-described “geek,” teased as a kid and socially awkward even with other geeks, he said he was already overwhelmed with the press attention he’s gotten, even while maintaining his anonymity.
This afternoon, though, he agreed to let SW name him because he knew another paper planned to do so. So here it is, the unlikely activist who’s caused so much fuss, highlighting dueling issues around police transparency and privacy rights, is Timothy A. Clemans.
Clemans is not without his own public records trail. He has been cited for a half-dozen, mostly traffic related offenses. He obviously has a problem with speeding. One citation a couple years ago, out of Lewis County, has him going 110 miles-an-hour in a 60 mile zone. He was fined $421 for that one.
He was also charged with reckless driving in relation to a December 2012 stop by Seattle police. The police report is not in the court file, but Clemans says police accused him not only of speeding but of making a dangerous turn. While he contests the latter, he agreed to what’s called a dispositional continuance, which in his case meant that if he paid a fine, went to traffic school and didn’t get any criminal convictions for two years, the charge would be downgraded to a non-criminal negligent driving infraction.
Clemans agrees he drives too fast, but says he otherwise doesn’t want to go into details about why he keeps getting these charges. Whatever the reason, the Seattle case provided an early lesson in the importance of police videos. He says no footage was kept of the allegedly dangerous lane change because of the quirks in SPD’s storage system, but there is video of the police’s encounter with him—one that he claims contradicts statements made in the police report. (His attorney was none other than James Egan, a man with his own police video obsession. See our cover story from a couple years back.)
SPD could not be reached this afternoon to talk about the case. But appropriately, people may soon be able to judge for themselves. Clemans says he’s asked SPD for a copy of the video and intends to post it online.
With his name now known, some might stumble into another bit of Clemans’ history: a couple of 2011 stories about his then-daily trips to the Space Needle. As he explained at the time, Clemans struggled with depression and this preoccupation gave him, as The Seattle P-I put it “a sense of stability and purpose.”
One has to wonder if this new preoccupation with police records is providing that now. Asked about that last week, he didn’t answer directly but said this: “I very much want to have some positive impact.”
From the activists who praise the light he’s shone on transparency and privacy issues to the police who were inspired by him to call for a hackathon later this month to help them release documents more quickly, many say he’s achieved that goal.
