Should the building register offer a glimpse into people's bedrooms?

At the request of officials, builders have uploaded hundreds of home photos and other sensitive personal data to a public database — the building register. Critics say the move is excessive and may even pose a security risk.
Over one million buildings and structures have been entered into Estonia's public building register — from summer homes to the Bank of Estonia. Among them are tens of thousands of private houses with surprisingly detailed information freely viewable to anyone logged into the portal.
Mart Malsub, an entrepreneur in the solar panel business, noticed a few years ago, while uploading client projects to the register, that a startling amount of detailed information about people's homes was publicly accessible. This included data such as the manufacturer of the home's inverter or heat pump and even which company the owner had signed waste disposal or electricity contracts with. On top of that, the register contains countless photos of home exteriors and interiors, almost as if it were a real estate portal.
"The most common example is when someone installs solar panels on their house and then submits a notice of construction or an application for a building permit. These project files are downloadable there," said Malsub who believes a home should remain private and sacred, with no place for outsiders to peer in. "As a citizen, I have to ask: does all of this really need to be published in such detail?"
Taavi Jakobson, director of the digital services department at the Land and Spatial Development Board, explained that both the Building Code and the building register were modeled after systems in the Nordic countries.
"All information that can be made public is disclosed to the citizens of the state, except for that which would cause an undue violation of personal data," Jakobson said.
The electronic building register, or the e-Construction platform, was launched a decade ago as an efficient tool where property owners or builders could upload all necessary documents. This allows agencies to approve essential project components and, finally, for local governments to issue usage permits. In other words, any major renovation or new building must be documented there to be legally recognized by the state. But by clicking on recently constructed and registered private homes in the map application, one often opens up a trove of information.
"Even people [appear in the documents]. There's the dining room, kitchen, office, sauna, bathroom, utility rooms, kids' rooms. Who would want a photo of their children's bedrooms floating around somewhere — photos they never intentionally uploaded?" Malsub asked.
Jakobson, however, does not see this information as a major issue.
"Figuratively speaking, if the children's information dates back to 2015, those kids are probably quite grown up by now," he said, defending the approach.
As part of an experiment, ERR investigative program "Pealtnägija" clicked through hundreds of addresses and found views not only into ordinary homes but also into the homes of well-known figures. Information about Finance Minister Jürgen Ligi's new home even included a view of the bathroom — let alone the kitchen and living room.
Ligi himself was unaware that such extensive information about his property was publicly visible. While it's one thing to photograph technical solutions for documentation purposes — such as piping, furnaces or ventilation — these images inevitably reveal large portions of the home's interior. With pipes and wiring, a photo may convey essential details. But in many cases, even electricity and waste collection contracts are publicly posted, allowing people to identify the actual owners of homes — such as former Finance Minister Mart Võrklaev.
"You can even see the electricity price, so you can compare deals with your neighbor — who got the better one," Võrklaev said. "When I saw that, I realized just how much data is actually in there." He acknowledged it was troubling.
If a former finance minister and a municipal official are surprised by how much personal information is available about them in the building register, one can only wonder how many ordinary citizens are even aware of it, especially since it's often builders or service providers, not homeowners, who upload the documents.
Malsub believes such a database is a goldmine for scammers, including those behind phishing calls.
While knowing the address and home details of a minister or private citizen might allow mischief on a personal level, state institutions aren't spared either. The register contains extensive information about buildings of strategic importance or those providing critical services — places where public access is strictly limited but where the register offers surprisingly detailed views.
"For example, at the Bank of Estonia building at Estonia puiestee 13, there have been solar panel installations, general construction work — project files related to all this can be downloaded, including floor plans and blueprints," Malsub said in disbelief. "There are even photos of electrical panels and other technical infrastructure."
In addition to rooftop solar panels and their wiring and a Huawei inverter from China inside the building, the new Pliiats Hall of the central bank is exposed to the public eye. Technical drawings with table layouts, data systems and even the locations of security cameras are viewable. The Bank of Estonia does not see this as a problem, arguing that the solar panels are visible from neighboring rooftops and the hall is a thoroughfare. The Land and Spatial Development Board also does not view it as a concern.
"My imagination doesn't stretch far enough to figure out how the existence of solar panels could be used to attack the Bank of Estonia," Jakobson said.

Mari-Liis Tori, deputy director of the Estonian Internal Security Service (ISS), acknowledged that gathering information from public sources is the cheapest way to obtain intelligence. "The likelihood that hostile intelligence services are acquiring information this way is very high. It's very likely they search for information like this," she admitted.
Notably, even the external water and sewage plans for the ISS's own new headquarters are available in the building register, meaning anyone interested can see where the water pipes enter one of Estonia's most secretive buildings. According to Tori, this is a deliberate decision.
"If construction is taking place near our building, builders need to know where those connections run so they don't unintentionally damage them and disrupt our building's operations," she explained. "With any register and any data accessible to the public — whether to a well-intentioned citizen, a journalist or another government official — we must also consider that the same data can be accessed by malicious actors, including hostile foreign intelligence services."
The most detailed information in the building register concerns private homes built over the past ten years. Residents of apartment buildings are not affected. Also, the register doesn't allow direct searches by owner name. But if someone knows the address of a private home or even just clicks around randomly, it is highly likely that the attached documents will reveal the owner's name, national ID number, phone number and email address. Before the Riigikogu passed a law last year restricting name-based searches in the land register, it was even easier to gather background information for snooping in the register. So the question remains: is this acceptable and where should the line be drawn?
When "Pealtnägija" began searching for answers, journalists encountered conflicting viewpoints across agencies.
"The current law permits this kind of data to be published. Our parliament has decided that such a database, in this form — by that I mean public — is necessary," said Pille Lehis, director general of the Data Protection Inspectorate.
When asked what kind of permits or applications require interior photos like those seen in real estate portals, Taavi Jakobson replied: "None. The Building Code clearly defines what documents are required."
The confusion begins with how responsibility is passed around — like tossing a dead dog over the neighbor's fence. Officially, the building register is maintained by the Land and Spatial Development Board, but they say they are merely the technical administrators, while content responsibility lies with the Ministry of Climate. The latter, in turn, points to local governments who reportedly determine for themselves what documents and photos must be submitted to the register.

"The data structure must be such that it allows verification that the buildings being constructed or already built meet requirements and the expectations of society. That they are, in every way, high-quality and safe," said Ivo Jaanisoo, deputy secretary general for living environment and circular economy at the Ministry of Climate.
It is clear that building coordination is needed primarily for safety. But why different municipalities sometimes request different contracts and photos and why those documents then end up visible to everyone in the register remains unanswered by both the board and the ministry.
"Service contracts don't prove a building's quality," said Jaanisoo.
According to Jakobson, much of this kind of information has been uploaded either by the individuals themselves, their architects or others handling the process on their behalf. "In the building register, we've tried to restrict the uploading of unnecessary data as much as possible. But when someone uploads a file named, say, document.pdf, it's very difficult to check its contents," Jakobson said.
Although the register includes guidelines intended to prevent the uploading of privacy-invading information, both Jaanisoo and Jakobson admit that some local governments got carried away and submitted so much material that central agencies didn't notice until "Pealtnägija" began asking questions. Still, Jakobson, the digital services director at the Land and Spatial Development Board, does not see it as a major issue. Critics, on the other hand, argue that even if the state needs to collect such information, it should carefully consider how much of it is shared with the curious public.
"My understanding is that the principle in our country should be this: the institution responsible for a register — the ministry overseeing that particular register — should ensure, from the moment the register is created, what data is visible and what is not or at least not visible to everyone," said Mart Võrklaev.
Mart Malsub added that, as a property owner, he would prefer to be able to set access rights to his data himself.
Initially, officials downplayed concerns, but during an interview last Thursday, Jaanisoo suddenly announced that, at least temporarily, public access to all supplementary documents in the building register had been locked for non-owners.
"We've now conducted an additional internal review and confirmed that the problem does exist. We're taking a pause to analyze the contents of the register, review what sensitive data is there and determine who should protect it going forward and how to handle public access to data that should remain public," Jaanisoo said.
According to Pille Lehis, the issue isn't whether such registers and data are necessary, but rather how much of that information should be accessible to third parties.
While the ministry is planning a review and the Data Protection Inspectorate has promised to launch its own oversight, the Land and Spatial Development Board warns that screening the data for potential privacy violations would be a massive task — one they lack the funding and capacity to carry out.
"This is a political decision. /.../ It would lead to a huge increase in bureaucracy and workload, not only for individuals, companies and local governments but also for the state. But apparently, it's considered necessary to mitigate the potential risk," Jakobson acknowledged.
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Editor: Marcus Turovski, Mirjam Mäekivi








