Someone Has to Ask Who’s Watching
The Data Ombuds are the City’s conscience regarding surveillance, data use, and informational harm.
They are lawyers, auditors, ethicists, system reviewers, and civil advocates tasked with defending individual privacy in a society where data is the nervous system of survival.
They do not control infrastructure.
They do not shut systems down.
They do not command enforcement.
They object—formally, persistently, and inconveniently.
And in a City that runs on data, objection is a dangerous act.
The Data Ombuds were established after the first major post-Unowned scandal, when citizens discovered that public AIs—while technically lawful—were correlating personal data in ways that produced chilling effects on behavior.
No crimes were committed.
No laws were broken.
People simply stopped acting freely.
Public outcry forced the City to acknowledge a gap:
Who protects citizens from systems that are legal, efficient, and harmful?
The Ombuds were created as an independent advocacy office with the mandate to:
Audit data practices
Challenge surveillance overreach
Represent citizens harmed by informational systems
Issue binding findings (but not binding orders)
From the beginning, their power was intentionally limited.
So was their budget.
The Data Ombuds operate as a lean, overstretched institution.
Case Advocates – Represent individuals and communities
Systems Auditors – Analyze AI behavior and data flows
Legal Analysts – Navigate procedural and jurisdictional traps
Public Findings Office – Publishes reports and objections
They rely heavily on whistleblowers, leaked documentation, and citizen reports.
Assume the system is listening
Document everything twice
Expect to lose—publicly
Measure success in harm reduced, not victories won
Many Ombuds burn out.
Those who remain are stubborn beyond reason.
The Ombuds cannot stop systems directly.
They exert power through visibility and legitimacy.
Publishing findings that force public acknowledgment
Creating paper trails that future cases can build on
Forcing the City to justify its own behavior
Making “everyone knew” impossible to claim
Their reports are cited in courts, councils, and protests—even when ignored in policy.
They slow things down.
Sometimes that’s enough.
Among citizens, the Data Ombuds are widely trusted.
They are seen as:
One of the few institutions that speaks plainly
A defender of the individual against abstraction
Proof the City still allows internal critique
Among power-holders, they are tolerated irritants.
They are:
Underfunded
Procedurally boxed in
Politically inconvenient
The City proudly points to their existence.
It quietly ensures they rarely win.
Civic Systems Authority (CSA): Constant conflict. Efficiency versus consent.
Assembly Secretariat: Procedural adversaries. Findings disappear into review.
The Continuity Forum: Uneasy allies. Memory and data intersect uncomfortably.
The Open Ledger: Occasional cooperation. Records matter.
Mirror Syndicates: Moral paradox. Privacy protection enables erasure.
Players encounter the Data Ombuds when the system is technically correct—and wrong.
A lawful surveillance program causing real harm
A community profiled by data aggregation
A whistleblower needing protection
A report suppressed through delay
Choosing whether to expose data that will hurt innocents
Players may:
Act as investigators or escorts for Ombuds staff
Provide technical proof others can’t obtain
Leak findings when official channels fail
Decide whether transparency helps—or destroys—someone
The Ombuds respect evidence, persistence, and people willing to lose cleanly.
They distrust shortcuts.
The Data Ombuds are philosophically divided.
Absolutists believe privacy is inviolable
Balancers accept surveillance with strict limits
Realists focus on harm reduction over principle
These debates never stop.
They just get quieter as budgets shrink.
The Data Ombuds know something most factions pretend not to:
A system does not have to be cruel to be dangerous.
It only has to be unquestioned.
They rarely win.
But every time they speak, they leave a record that says:
Someone noticed.
Someone objected.
Someone cared enough to put it in writing.
And in a City that remembers everything,
that may be enough to matter—eventually.