TO paraphrase TS Eliot, it is “not with a bang but a whimper” that the UK seeks to embrace the most expansive and intrusive surveillance powers of any democracy. Over the months the Investigatory Powers Bill (IP Bill) has been debated in the Commons and the Lords, as well as being reviewed by David Anderson QC.

Yet many of the sweeping powers that have troubled civil society, journalists, lawyers and the technology industry remain intact.

These include the requirement for telecommunications providers to store internet connection records on every British citizen for 12 months; the ability of intelligences agencies to hack platforms, devices and networks; capabilities for encryptions systems to be sidestepped; and bulk powers to collect data on the many to find the few. That is not to say that the bill has not changed. It is far better than when it was in the Commons; amendments in the Lords mean there are added protections for legal professional privilege and journalistic materials, as well as more substantial criteria the Government and intelligence agencies need to satisfy. Over the months of analysis, debate and scrutiny, we appear no closer to answering one basic question, perhaps because we do not seem keen to ask it in the first place: are these the actions of a progressive democracy?

Perhaps we are avoiding the question because we are afraid of what the answer may be. The recent ruling in the Investigatory Powers Tribunal, which concluded that the security agencies had unlawfully collected personal data for 17 years in a manner that contravened article eight of the European Convention on Human Rights, was a stark reminder of how the Government perceives the balance between civil liberties and national security. Transparency and dialogue are luxuries for peacetime; luxuries we can, apparently, ill afford.

It is worth remembering how this bill came about. It was not to promote open, inclusive debate on surveillance but to ensure the UK had powers in place when the Data Retention and Investigatory Powers Act expires at the end of the year. A refusal to stimulate debate is also evident in how the UK dealt with the Snowden revelations, which have, at least partially, challenged the trajectory of US surveillance legislation with the imperfect but limited US Freedom Act. We have gone the other way; we have treated the revelations as a checklist for what needs to be contained within the new law, legislating on what was made public instead of debating their merits.

The space for debate has been at best limited. In March, Scottish PEN was given only seven days to complete and submit written evidence to the Public Bill Committee and the press has been somewhat lethargic in its reporting of the bill. The fact that coverage over the past few days has been monopolised by Baroness Hollins’s amendment to bring forward press regulation shows the apparent reticence we have for discussing the IP Bill head on.

Labour’s fragmented and incoherent position on the Bill has allowed the many questions raised throughout the legislative process to be ignored. What about the costs associated with the retention of internet connection records that the Don’t Spy On Us Coalition estimated could be as much as £1 billion, alongside the growing threat of cyber attacks that could leave our personal data up for grabs?

When push comes to shove, we have all seemingly forgotten the hack of TalkTalk. How about the statement from the UN special rapporteur on the right to privacy, Joseph Cannataci, who said: “It would appear that the serious and possibly unintended consequences of legitimising bulk interception and bulk hacking are not being fully appreciated by the UK Government.” Nothing has happened to challenge this appearance; nor whether this appreciation has guided the Government’s hand throughout this process.

The Investigatory Powers Bill remains a powerful and expansive bill that pits safety against security and undermines both free expression and the right to privacy. Will writers and journalists feel free enough from the state’s gaze to express themselves unimpeded or will the perception of surveillance be enough to silence them? Will we know what we have lost before it is too late?

This is another set of questions that has been left unanswered. It seems it may remain that way.

Nik Williams is policy adviser at Scottish PEN.