The Total-Surveillance Society

     I’ve been sitting on this for a while:

     If you have twelve minutes to spare, please watch it. The amount of genuinely frightening information in it is staggering. Once you’ve watched it, take a walk around your own home.

     Which of the devices around you – many of which you consciously sought out and are happy to own – are monitoring some aspect of your behavior?

     We already know about the “smart TV’s” ability to record your viewing preferences and make helpful suggestions for your future enjoyment. There have been reports of those devices also recording what they hear in your home. To whom are those recordings available?

     We already know about the “AI helpers” on your computer and smartphone. It developed not long ago that they can commandeer your camera and microphone for the purposes of their developers. Perhaps those purposes are benign, but how would you know?

     We already know about the Internet of things: that wirelessly connected group of appliances that can be controlled from your computer or smartphone. We also know that WiFi connections, regardless of passwords, are insecure. Quite a lot of people know how you’ve set your thermostats, how much electric power you use, and what’s in your refrigerator.

     Do you have security cameras in or around your house? Perhaps a dashboard camera in your car? Do you really think that the recordings on those devices are private to you alone?

     Commentators have reflected on the contemporary practice of spilling one’s guts on social media. I hardly need say any more about that.

     And now your car is recording your driving practices. People were mildly surprised – some were displeased – to learn that their Teslas were able to communicate with their makers when they need service, or a spare part. How much more intrusive is it for your car – and therefore your mechanic, your car dealership, your car’s maker, your insurance company, and no doubt the local and state governments – to know that you purely love to speed? How about that you spend a fair fraction of your working hours in some tavern, or with some woman who’s not your wife?

     I’m not happy about any of this. If you are, we should have a talk.

     Private – please, no giggling – American citizens have collaborated in the destruction of their own privacy. The closed-circuit security cameras in the shopping district are far less dangerous to us than the devices with which we voluntarily surround ourselves.

     Not long ago, a new acquaintance asked me if we could communicate on a popular application that runs on smartphones. I know a little something about such programs; I’m wary of them, especially given the capability, built into virtually all smartphones, to monitor and transmit the owner’s location. So I fibbed: I told her that I don’t have such a phone, and therefore could not run the program. She reacted as if I’d confessed to mass murder.

     It’s plain where this is going. People who want power over you know that all power begins with knowledge: specifically, knowledge of your behavior, especially your behavior patterns. And here we are, mindlessly helping to collect it for them.

     I drive a fifteen-year-old car that has no WiFi or recording capabilities. I labor over it ceaselessly. I’ve expelled Microsoft’s “Cortana” from all my computers, and have taken steps to prevent its reinstallation. I won’t abide an Alexa-compatible device. I own a cell phone, but it’s powered off nearly all the time. (No, I don’t carry it with me when I leave the house.) I have only one smart device in my home: the thermostat for my air conditioning system. I deliberately disabled its WiFi capability the day it was installed. It was the best I could do; the company that installed the system didn’t have a compatible “dumb” unit.

     The C.S.O. thinks I unplug the television when it’s not in use to reduce its electricity consumption. I’ve never told her the real reason. I wonder if I should.