A
recent news item informed us all that a method was being developed to
text 911 calls so they could be made silently, especially useful in
the case of an intruder or another emergency. It was assumed that
over the next few years we'd have a society in which everyone would
have a “smart” cellular telephone with the capability of sending
texts. With a GPS in the unit there wouldn't be the need to identify
the location – an important consideration for those with limited
time and the weight of anxiety causing confusion or otherwise
limiting their ability to communicate. However useful the tool though, the time will come when our
privacy will be completely gone.
We're
not so far from that society now. And we're certainly a society that
revels in the ability to reach out to everyone we know. That used to
happen at most once a year – in a mass mailing of a Christmas
letter that was designed to let family and friends in on what had
happened in the prior year. Now we see it as important to provide
“real time” information on our feelings, activities, and ideas to
as many of our closest friendsi
as we can locate. And in addition to what we've told the world, we
can send individual texts and photographs of our pets, dirty dishes,
and whatever else we can think of. It's so easy to take pictures
with those same telephones and to include them in the messages.
After all, we're sure that all our correspondents are interested –
more interested than we are in their idiotic productions. And
it's all so easy with the various social networks established by the
latest group of billionaires.ii
Anyway,
we're eager to tell everything to everyone – including internet
vendors. We brag about how many “friends” we have. We enjoy the
rapid publication of everything we think or “feel,” and we're
eager to send immediate status reports and “tweets” to everyone;
and to get feeds from the world. We want everyone to know everything
about us and we want to know everything about everyone else.iii
Well
maybe that's an overstatement. But it's always been important to
document and preserve our “selves” and our knowledge. In the
past, it was often recorded on scrolls because that was the state of
the art. And we might then store it in a warehouse of information
that might be accessed at some undefined future time. The library at
Alexandria was such a famed repository, but its destruction
illustrated the tenuous nature of that attempt at preservation of
knowledge. Modern computer systems are far more satisfactory in
providing this service. And they should be used to serve the
“people” in this goal.
Thus
we may want our friends to know everything, but we don't want the
government to know anything. It's a paradox. Governments were
established for the protection of society but we fear our own more
than any other. Espionage has always been around. It was known in
the ancient Chinese and Indian civilizations and in Egypt as well.
It is documented in the Bible,iv
so it is clear that this is not a new phenomenon. And it's gone on
throughout history. “Everyone,” as the saying goes, “does it.”
Two famous examples from the American experience are Benedict Arnold
and Aldrich Ames. They were “bad guys”; they were spies. It's a
given that all nations spy on each other, but that doesn't mean that
we don't try to protect ourselves from such activity; yet that
doesn't stop us doing the same thing. Only when we do it we
term it “intelligence gathering.” Or at least that's what we
call it when it's directed against others. When it's aimed at us,v
it's spying.
That's
the source of our unhappiness with the NSA. When they collect
records of all our telephone calls they're spying on us. It
isn't intelligence gathering, it's spying. They may assure us that
the material they have merely serves a database which will only be
used to track the conversations of those truly threatening our
security, but we know better. They may claim that what they're doing
is legal and necessary.vi
But they're wrong. And the courts may support that position, but they're wrong too – if
not in fact then in implications. They may tell us that they need
these records for future searches, but irrespective of that promise,
the files shouldn't be saved. They should really be destroyed.vii
Who knows what use they'll be put to, and by whom.
I
don't agree. I recognize the idea that society, and the protection
it affords, are worth some sacrifice of privacyviii
in order to minimize the risk from those who oppose us. And I accept
the view that information may be collected and saved for future use,
information that has no immediate application and may, in fact, never
be utilized, but will be available if needed. I have a large library
with most of the books never read but they're there if I need to look
something up. That's what librariesix
are for.
Most
people have no hesitation about providing information to surveyors
and pollstersx
– information that we know will be used in the future – even
though it will take time before its value is assessed and its
applicability determined. Moreover we have no compunctions about
spreading information ourselves which may or may not be accurate, and
may or may not be damaging now, or in the future, to others. That
information is in the form of gossip, innuendo, rumors, and the like,
and we enjoy it greatly. It's OK if we obtain or provide
confidential information, but the government has no right to do so.
The
public is of two minds about privacy. Most people don't care who's
“listening.” In fact, many are pleased by it. So much so that
they compete for larger totals of “friends.” The fact that the
Library of Congress collects every “tweet” sent is validation.
It provides their fifteen minutes of fame. Some, however, are more
sensitive. Among them are the ACLU and similar organizations that
question the collection of information by any government agency.
“Transparency” isn't enough, though they demand it of government
officials. They adopt the “slippery slope” argument and maintain
that the collection of any data now will eventually lead to the
collection of all data in the future. It's the “camel's nose”
argument.
I
personally don't believe it makes sense. Absolutism may have some
validity when discussing religious principles, however when relating
to secular pursuits it assumes that people lack the ability to
distinguish between principles and practice. It adopts a reductio
ad absurdum approach to everything. And in instances like
that involving the NSA it assumes that the government is evil.
Eternal vigilance may be the price of freedom, but that vigilance may
also be required by the government – not just the ACLU. It all
depends on whom you consider the enemy.
That's
enough for now. I'll finish it up next time. But, of course, I
won't give my real name. I don't know who might be reading this.
Next
episode: “Lean Back And Enjoy It” – If you can't lick
'em, join 'em.
I We
target “friends” and followers whom we invite to join our
networks, and we, simultaneously join theirs.
ii That
makes them members of the one (hundredth of a) percent, though we
don't think of them that way.
iii We
ignore the very real risk of hackers and identity thieves, though we
may get additional programs to try to minimize the chances we're
taking.
iv See
Numbers 14:1 and ff, and Joshua 2:1.
v Or
we believe it is.
vi In
keeping with the Patriot Act.
vii As
is the case with all such unevaluated and global solutions to
situations we view as problems, a decision to destroy the records
may result in the destruction, as well, of evidence in cases before
the courts. For more on this subject
see
Wall Street Journal, February 2o, 2014: NSA
Weighs Retaining Data for Suits.
As the article suggests, this may result in the retention of more
records than initially intended, but that would be the unintended
consequence of such a move.
viii And
even though I know it's not true, I can live with the premise that
most people are honest and law-abiding, and the information they
obtain in conformity with legal and judicial limits will ultimately
be used for my benefit.
ix Not
to mention Google and other search engines.
x In
fact they're tickled by the thought that their views are considered
representative of a portion of the population, and that they can
express their opinions and prejudices (my term, certainly not
theirs) openly, and have it taken seriously.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I know you agree, but you can leave comments anyway.