Behind the quiet doors of Britain’s private investigation firms lies a world that answers to almost no one.
No licence, little oversight or barrier to entry – just a website, a phone number and the promise to find out what others can’t. It’s a profession that trades in secrets but operates largely without scrutiny, its credibility often depending more on polish than proof.
Amid the murk, Tony Imossi has spent decades trying to bring order. An investigator since 1981, he has built a career specialising in fraud and litigation support and has provided evidence in the Leveson Inquiry. Now Head of the Secretariat at the Association of British Investigators (ABI), he is leading the organisation’s push to professionalise a sector that still relies on trust more than law.
The ABI’s vetting process is one of the few formal checks that exist. Applicants are interviewed, assessed and monitored before they can call themselves members. Complaints are investigated, and sanctions range from formal warnings to expulsion. Most investigators, Imossi explained, are conscientious and law-abiding, but the absence of regulation allows less careful operators to slip through the cracks.
When things go wrong, the consequences can be severe and Imossi said: “We’ve had people crying down the phone because they’ve been blackmailed by investigators who threatened to expose them, it’s horrific.”
The work of a private investigator has always existed somewhere between curiosity and intrusion. Those in the profession argue it is essential for tracing fraud, finding witnesses, and uncovering evidence that police and insurers do not have the time or resources to chase.
But that work also means handling information that few others ever see.
Data protection has become the new frontier. Investigators sift through records, emails, photos, phone logs, and open-source data, often without the subject’s knowledge. That is legal only within strict limits.
The former investigator said: “A lot of investigators think if it’s online, it’s fair game. “It isn’t. That’s a breach of GDPR.”
In response, the ABI has developed a code of conduct designed to bring order to that chaos. It is the first of its kind for the sector, approved by the Information Commissioner’s Office under GDPR. The code sets out clear rules on what can be gathered, how it is stored and who can see it. It also requires compulsory data-protection training for every new member.
The move is a milestone, but not a cure-all. The code is voluntary, and those operating outside the ABI’s reach can simply ignore it. Imossi said there is still no sign of formal oversight from the government and said: “It’s still the Wild West out there, but we’re trying to bring some law and order to it.”
Elsewhere, the rules are far clearer. Investigators in the United States, Canada, France, and much of Europe must hold licences, pass background checks, and operate under legally binding codes tied to law enforcement. Even in Australia and New Zealand, investigators are registered and audited.
Britain remains the exception, and plans for statutory regulation were shelved after the Leveson Inquiry and have not been revived.
Public perception adds another obstacle, as most people’s understanding of private investigators comes from fiction. Slick men in trench coats, dark cars idling at midnight, dossiers slid across bars – but the reality is slower, duller and far more digital.
The ABI has been working with the Law Society and other legal bodies to promote the code of conduct as a marker of accountability. It is a small step, but one that could help distinguish legitimate investigators from the opportunists who damage the trade’s reputation.
Ultimately, the question is one of trust, not just between investigator and client, but also between a secretive industry and the public it serves. The tools may have changed, but the moral territory remains the same of how far is too far.
The work may stay hidden, but the effort to clean it up is not.
