I wasn’t aware that you needed a full consumer report, reference check, and credit history in order to establish whether someone was legal to work in the US or not. Usually the ID required on your start paperwork (SSN, copy of driver’s license, passport, green card, etc) covers it.

Regarding the possibility of forgeries, it still doesn’t seem like a full background check would shed much light on that. Not to mention how do you determine whose documents are likely to be forged? Should all non-whites or people with foreign accents have their rights to privacy routinely violated “just in case”, while white people who sound American are home free?

Of course, it took some time for the letter to arrive and I had forgotten that I had requested it, so I nearly got a heart attack finding a letter from the police in my mailbox…

The things your neighbors, co-workers and families believe about you range from the merely untrue to the completely fantastic. My grandmother was convinced that the girl next door was an IRA terrorist because said girl was from Manchester. (My grandmother believed Manchester to be in Ireland). One of my neighbors claimed that “a teenager on rollerskates” had damaged the hall door. Said “teenager” was 35, if extremely skinny, and the guy who had damaged the hall door (I was there) was 45 and 300 lbs.

The gullibility people show on the internet is only the more visible version of the enthusiasm they show towards neighborhood or water cooler gossip. And that’s before malice even enters the equation.

Another co-worker showed up for work totally zonked. Pot, pills, coke, meth, whatever.

They are expensive to keep, fire or discipline. Any business looks to reduce costs. Not hiring is best because there is no lawsuit.

It’s not a number, Ginmar. It’s a situation - you’re in debt, it’s getting worse despite you cutting back to your minimum, and there’s no way out. The key point is that you can slowly see yourself slipping further down despite your best efforts - that’s something that would drive most people to consider stealing, I think.

As it happens, the housekeeping personnel are the one’s most likely to need such checking; look at the trouble WalMart has gotten in for using subcontract cleaning crews employing illegal immigrants. Once you get up to the management levels, the probabilities of forged documents to get through the Form I-9 becomes very low.

Heh. The best manager I’ve had tells a tale about spending a holiday in the US where he was asked by a friend to set up a textile factory. He hired a lot of Central American immigrant women, and made certain they were all fully documented, helping them out every time Immigration came around.

Apparently, the Immigration people never stopped to ask if the white middle-aged guy wearing the suit was, in fact, legal…

Not so fast:
(1) in most places, depositions are not filed with the Court. The transcripts are sent to the parties; there’s no database for them. They can be subpoenaed in litigation, or requested from a party, but that’s only in litigation and it’s subject to court oversight.
(2) in many cases, discovery is taken under a stipulation or order protecting some or all of the information. I’ve marked personal stuff in depositions “highly confidential” and “attorneys’ eyes only,” and I’ve seen cases where virtually every document is marked “confidential.” Even when that stuff gets filed in motion practice, it all gets sealed.

Affidavits filed in cases with electronic filing are pretty easy to get. Depositions, however? Not so much.

Some years ago I opened my door one hot summer day to find two Federal Persons on my door step. They really are kind of easy to spot even before they show their IDs.

“Background check?” I said by way of greeting.

They looked at each other warily and pulled out their IDs.

“Given the three letter anacronym on those cards, I’m guessing my ex-husband is looking at a new assignment. Come on in.”

One of them admitted this was a really good guess.

“I grew up military, I was a military wife. I was *his* wife and I know what his field of expertise is and what his career arc looks like. Give him his clearance.”

By now they weren’t even bothering not to stare at me.

“Ma’am, this is a very serious matter. Security clearances-”

“I know about security clearances, my father did your job for the *branch of service redacted*. What I’m saying is give him the clearance.”

“It’s been our experience that ex-spouses often have a particular insight into a subject’s possible… issues.”

“You mean, is he doing anything that he could be blackmailed into spying over?”

Solemn nods.

“Not a chance. Oh, he’s by no means a poster boy for conformity but he’d spit in the eye of anyone who tried blackmail. Give him his clearance.”

They tried asking more questions. I kept telling them that he was good at his job, couldn’t be blackmailed and wouldn’t sell secrets. They even told me that one of the reasons the interview was going on so long was that in their experience ex-wives always knew *something*.

“Guys, I know plenty about him, it’s just none of it is relevant to the question of whether or not he’s good at his job. Our marriage failed. I’m pretty mad at him about some of it, and he’s not any happier with me. But the fate of the free world does not hinge on that.”

They finally left, completely weirded out by the idea that someone would decline to trash their ex when invited to do so by persons with government ID.

Besides, I said “debt hole”. Everybody’s floundering - it’s the people who are spluttering and going down for the third time who are the most likely to look to desperate means to deal with the problem - and you have to have sympathy for them.

Nit picking. What do you call a debt hole? A few grand? Several? A bankruptcy? I paid off all my fucking debts and I took a hit on my credit for it.

Besides, I said “debt hole”. Everybody’s floundering - it’s the people who are spluttering and going down for the third time who are the most likely to look to desperate means to deal with the problem - and you have to have sympathy for them.

I thought to myself, “Other than me, no.”

(And my peccadillo-rating puts me pretty far down on the disreputable scale. )