Desiree Sainthrope is a leading legal architect in the field of global trade compliance and international human rights law. With a career spent dissecting the complexities of dual-use technology and the legal frameworks of the European Union, she provides a critical lens on how European innovation is being weaponized in distant territories. Our conversation explores the ethical fractures in current export policies, the systemic lack of transparency in the surveillance trade, and the urgent need for the European Commission to close the loopholes that allow sophisticated software to become a tool for silencing global dissent.
Recent reports highlight that Bulgaria exported surveillance tech to Azerbaijan in 2022 and Poland followed with similar exports to Rwanda shortly after; what does this tell us about the real-world impact of these technologies when they reach such destinations?
The export of these telecommunications interception systems to nations like Azerbaijan and Rwanda represents a profound failure of the democratic safeguards we claim to uphold. When this technology lands in the hands of regimes with documented histories of internal repression, it isn’t used for abstract security; it is used to listen to the private whispers of activists and to map the movements of journalists. In Azerbaijan and Rwanda, we have seen how these tools facilitate the silencing of political opponents, turning a person’s own smartphone into a tracking device without their knowledge or consent. These are not just commercial transactions; they are the transfer of powerful, invisible eyes that can dismantle a local human rights movement in a matter of weeks.
The European Commission is currently evaluating the Dual-Use Regulation with a major report expected by September 2028; how significant is this period for shaping the future of human rights safeguards?
This current evaluation period, spanning from 2026 to 2028, is a pivotal window for the Commission to operationalize the safeguards that were originally envisioned years ago. We are at a crossroads where we must determine if the “recast” of these regulations will actually have teeth or if it will remain a collection of well-intentioned suggestions. Experts and human rights organizations are putting immense pressure on Commissioner Maroš Šefčovič to ensure that the findings in 2028 reflect the grim reality of “abundant” harmful exports. If we do not strengthen the framework now, we are essentially giving a green light to companies to continue fueling repression under the guise of civilian-military dual-use trade.
A recent Human Rights Watch investigation found that only 7 out of 27 EU member states were willing to share their export licensing records; what does this level of secrecy imply for the accountability of European tech firms?
The fact that 20 member states chose to remain silent when asked for basic transparency data is a staggering indictment of the current system. When only seven countries provide records, and those records alone show exports to more than two dozen nations with histories of human rights violations, you have to wonder what is being hidden by the other twenty. This lack of transparency severely limits the ability of journalists and civil society to track where these dangerous tools are ending up and who is profiting from them. It creates a “black box” of commerce where profit is prioritized over the safety of activists, and where the public is kept in the dark about the value and destination of these digital weapons.
Human rights groups have pointed out a significant gap in the 2024 guidelines regarding “listed” versus “unlisted” technologies; how does this discrepancy affect the vetting process for high-risk surveillance tools?
The 2024 guidelines introduced a frustrating paradox: they offer a roadmap for companies to assess human rights risks for unlisted technologies, yet they fail to provide the same clear guidance for products that are already so dangerous they require a license by default. This means that some of the most invasive cyber-surveillance items on the market might actually face a less rigorous human rights assessment than more benign, unlisted tools. By not requiring equivalent due diligence for these listed products, the Commission has left a wide gate open for harmful exports to proceed without a deep-dive into the end-user’s background. We are essentially asking for a unified standard where the potential for internal repression is the primary metric for every single license application, regardless of the item’s technical classification.
There is a growing concern that the “catch-all clause” relies too heavily on companies to self-regulate; what changes are necessary to move the burden of proof from corporations to national authorities?
The current reliance on exporter-triggered due diligence is essentially asking companies to police their own bottom lines, which is a fundamental conflict of interest. We need a systemic shift where national authorities are mandated to proactively identify and flag potentially dangerous exports instead of waiting for a corporation to volunteer a concern. This would involve regular reviews of emerging surveillance tools and a much closer alignment with the EU’s evolving rules on artificial intelligence to catch risks before the contracts are even signed. Furthermore, we must establish a mechanism that provides a path to remedy for victims, ensuring that if a European tool is used to harm a journalist abroad, there are clear legal consequences for the exporter and the state that authorized it.
What is your forecast for the 2028 evaluation report?
I forecast that the September 2028 report will be a watershed moment that finally mandates granular transparency, requiring every license to publicly identify the exporter, the specific end-user, and the total value of the deal. The mounting evidence from groups like Amnesty International and the Committee to Protect Journalists has become too heavy for the Commission to ignore, and I expect a move toward a more proactive, state-led enforcement of the catch-all clause. We are likely to see a much more defensive posture from the EU, where the “human rights risk” becomes a hard “no” for exports to any nation with a documented history of silencing dissent. If we don’t see these specific changes, we will be forced to admit that European trade policy has effectively become a silent partner in global digital authoritarianism.
