Alex called AT&T, said he'd figured out who'd stolen his phone, and asked if the company could help get it back — perhaps by flagging the phone if the thief tried to register it in a new name. No dice. AT&T gave him two options: Either deactivate the phone and buy a new one, or find a cop willing to subpoena AT&T for information, file a lengthy police report, and go through a long bureaucratic process.
It was, Alex says, "the most B.S. story I've ever heard."
He called Apple and was invited to try the same "find my phone" app he'd already been using.
Alex realized that if he wanted the phone back, he'd have to get it himself. He got in his car and headed to Clayton.
It turns out the dismissive responses that Alex received in his quest to find the stolen iPhone were typical of telecom companies and service carriers. Apple and AT&T have little reason to help someone recover a device — even if it's within reach. Smartphone theft is a lucrative business, and not just for the small-time crooks who lift gadgets off of BART seats. The manufacturer profits by hawking a replacement phone; the carrier profits double, by locking the crime victim into a new contract, then opening an account with whomever ends up with the stolen phone. Telecom companies even profit from the specter of phone theft, by selling expensive insurance policies to protect their users.
"We've tried to blow the whistle on this for years," Capt. Jason Cherniss of the San Francisco Police Department says. "And these companies have had the ability to prevent it for years." In the meantime, he adds, people have been violently robbed — even killed — and millions of dollars have changed hands on the black market.
Alex would quickly find out that the entire smartphone industry functions as a protection racket. And culpability doesn't just lie with the unhelpful customer service representatives.
It was, Alex says, "the most B.S. story I've ever heard."
He called Apple and was invited to try the same "find my phone" app he'd already been using.
Alex realized that if he wanted the phone back, he'd have to get it himself. He got in his car and headed to Clayton.
It turns out the dismissive responses that Alex received in his quest to find the stolen iPhone were typical of telecom companies and service carriers. Apple and AT&T have little reason to help someone recover a device — even if it's within reach. Smartphone theft is a lucrative business, and not just for the small-time crooks who lift gadgets off of BART seats. The manufacturer profits by hawking a replacement phone; the carrier profits double, by locking the crime victim into a new contract, then opening an account with whomever ends up with the stolen phone. Telecom companies even profit from the specter of phone theft, by selling expensive insurance policies to protect their users.
"We've tried to blow the whistle on this for years," Capt. Jason Cherniss of the San Francisco Police Department says. "And these companies have had the ability to prevent it for years." In the meantime, he adds, people have been violently robbed — even killed — and millions of dollars have changed hands on the black market.
Alex would quickly find out that the entire smartphone industry functions as a protection racket. And culpability doesn't just lie with the unhelpful customer service representatives.
by Rachel Swan, SF Weekly | Read more:
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