Next year at this time, we’ll probably be outraged that our medical records are all over the Internet, courtesy of the Affordable Care Act. Electronic records are supposed to save money and improve care. Inevitably, they won’t remain private.
If the reaction to the recent revelations about the government accessing our cell phone and Internet records is any indication, people will be shocked and angry that once again technology has been abused.
It would be interesting to know if the people who are the most upset about this are the same ones who are quick to make fun of someone who still keeps a landline. I’ve been the target of some of these folks. Like the time a coworker saw me writing a check.
“You still write checks?” she asked, a note of condescension in her voice.
When I moved to Portland three years ago and transferred my checking and savings accounts, the bank employee smiled and asked, “Do you want checks?” as if he were joking.
At the rate I’ve been using those checks, I won’t have to reorder for years.
We were never slaves to paper the way we are to technology. Now here we are.
How can it be surprising that our government uses technology to gather information on us? Private business and marketing researchers do. Search a subject on Google, and you may find yourself getting ads related to the same item on other Web sites you visit. This can be both annoying and useful.
I long ago decided there was no privacy on the Internet, so I didn’t give up my landline just because I acquired a cell.
While Americans were absorbing the news that the government was collecting their cell phone and Internet data, they also had to ponder a U.S. Supreme Court decision that could give away their DNA: It’s OK for police to take a swab from inside someone’s cheek if they are arrested for a serious crime.
At about the same time, here in Oregon the state Senate passed legislation governing how law enforcement agencies may use drone technology.
That probably won’t be enough to reassure two men I overheard at a Dec. 17 meeting of the governor’s Commission on Public Safety. Their concern wasn’t law enforcement misuse of drones.
While the commission was temporarily in recess, these two men sat behind me and talked about sex offenders accessing drones. One of the men worked in aviation, and the other was an attorney.
“Suppose a registered sex offender gets a hummingbird drone and gets it inside your house and takes nudie pictures of you in the shower – but only for his own use. Is he trespassing? Is it a criminal offense or a civil offense?” asked the attorney. “It’s going to be invasion of privacy, but was it invasion of privacy as a criminal act? I think it is a Class A misdemeanor.”
He continued with another scenario: “What about taking nudie shots through someone’s bedroom window without them knowing? … You don’t want that to be Class C … it’s scary, but it’s not the same as someone getting a drone and planning.”
The aviation guy said he lived on five acres: “Suppose somebody put a drone a hundred feet just above tree level, it would be difficult to prove whether they are on your property or somebody else’s property.”
The attorney offered that it would be “tortious interference of the enjoyment of your property.”
They discussed whether the state had an appropriate law or should be looking at a law.
“I’ll find you somebody in DOJ,” the attorney told the aviation guy. They moved on to the subject of satellites, but the attorney kept circling back to someone taking nudie photos.
I wanted to turn around and ask him, “What’s this obsession you have with nudie photos?” but I didn’t want him to know somebody was listening in on him (and taking notes, no less). Had he wanted privacy, though, he and his friend could have talked somewhere else besides a hearing room in the state Capitol.
How nice that Americans are becoming more interested in preserving their privacy. Once you’ve lost it, though, good luck getting it back.
It would help if we did not rush to embrace every new technology, every new advancement – particularly if it turns out not to advance anything other than a company’s bottom line.
I was recently reminded of what life can be like without cell phones, emails, drones and DNA swabs when I watched a movie classic, “Our Vines Have Tender Grapes.” I spotted this at the library and wondered if it was one my parents had liked in their day.
“An enduring and quietly rhapsodic slice of Americana about a single year among the Norwegian immigrants in a Wisconsin farm town,” said the DVD jacket.
Then I noticed the screenplay was by Dalton Trumbo, who had once been blacklisted for being a Communist and had written an unforgettable anti-war novel called, “Johnny Got His Gun.” How would he portray a slice of Americana?
What’s striking about this old movie is how quiet life is. There are many small, happy moments and a couple of tragedies, but it all seems natural. No soundtrack pushes the story along. People talk, work, take satisfaction in daily accomplishments – and hope for a new barn.
The characters interact with each other and with animals – not with electronic devices. The only phone is a hand-cranked version attached to the wall, and an operator is needed to make a call.
These Americans don’t need yoga or meditation to teach them to live in the present. They don’t need Xanax to help them sleep. It’s hard to believe they are our recent ancestors.
Edward Snowden told the Guardian newspaper that he did not want to live in a society where the National Security Agency can intercept emails and phone calls.
“I don’t want to live in a society that does these sort of things … I do not want to live in a world where everything I do and say is recorded.”
Why, then, did he go to Hong Kong?
He should have looked around for a 21st Century equivalent of those Norwegian immigrant farmers.
– Pamela Fitzsimmons
No Comments