Orwellian specters

I may be a product of a Facebook-obsessed, non-pocket-knife-carrying airplane passenger generation, but last week’s big National Security Administration scandal didn’t really shock me. My essential reaction to the news that the federal government tracks phone and Internet habits was one of indifference. 

When I was in high school and middle school, we were told not to share any personal information on the Internet. We were told to pick screen names and email addresses that didn’t reveal our real names, because otherwise the ominous Internet predators would be able to track you down. So we picked screen names like sailaway3000, bluedevil2012, crayoneater1 and many other fantastically punny monikers unsuitable for print.

Today, those screen names have largely been quarantined in the video gaming and YouTube-commenting world. Career counselors tell us to use professional, simple email addresses that use some version of the firstname.lastname@respectabledomainname.com formula. They tell us not to post pictures online that we wouldn’t want our parents to see, because employers can do a simple Google search to discover just how many times a semester you enjoy doing keg stands. 

Until a couple of years ago, my mother did not know how to attach a file to an email. Now, my own mother enjoys browsing the Facebook pages of every single one of my Facebook friends. When her efforts are frustrated by pesky privacy settings, she simply examines the posts and links of their friends. 

We also know that Google, Facebook, Amazon and their peers collect information on every search we conduct. If I were to spend a week researching which car to buy, Google would probably alert me about fantastic deals on the newest Toyotas as I read an email from a friend. This summer, Amazon decided that I fit the demographic for young mothers, so it started offering me incredible deals on baby diapers.

So when Edward Snowden revealed the secret government program that collects much of this information from these companies, I wasn’t exactly surprised. If private companies can tell me when I really should be thinking about starting a family, then I’m not shocked that the federal government keeps tabs on my phone and Internet habits. 

I have read George Orwell’s “1984.” I realize that the idea of a government that collects data on your every move is a scary one. But ever since the Patriot Act was passed in October 2001, the specter of a 1984 reality has become increasingly feasible. Even when the Patriot Act passed, there were fears that the government would invade citizens’ privacy by keeping tabs on which library books we borrowed. 

We may not know exactly how effective the NSA surveillance program has been in protecting the United States from terrorist attacks. But we do know that the government’s ability to “see” everything was essential to the identification of the Boston Marathon bombing suspects. Even if government surveillance programs weren’t able to catch the suspects before bombing, in retrospect, Tamerlan Tsarnaev’s Amazon wish list might have alerted security officials to the bomber’s intentions. Maybe I’ve been watching too much “Law and Order: SVU,” but law enforcement’s ability to track cellphones and examine suspects’ Internet histories seems pretty helpful.

Granted, the Fourth Amendment appears to give U.S. citizens some protection against “unreasonable” search and seizure. In United States v. Jacobsen, the Supreme Court stated, “a search occurs when an expectation of privacy that society is prepared to consider reasonable is infringed.” With the rapid evolution of Internet privacy concerns, it appears we have stumbled upon the need to redefine what constitutes a “reasonable” expectation of privacy. Is it reasonable to expect the government to refrain from collecting search data that you so willingly share with Google? Is it reasonable to forbid the NSA from collecting data on what kinds of products you buy on Amazon? Perhaps these expectations of privacy would be reasonable if a simple Google search of your name didn’t reveal your Amazon wish list and your favorite Picasa album. 

So are we just supposed to trust that the federal government won’t create a dystopian, Orwellian future? Not exactly. The burden is on the individual to close and lock the door to your private life. If Google can sell your information to other companies, then it seems counterintuitive to forbid the federal government from getting this same information. The specter of Big Brother isn’t so much the bureaucracy of the NSA as it is the capitalism of technology companies. 

In order to create a reasonable expectation of privacy, an individual must change their privacy settings. The individual can make his or her Facebook profile private. The individual can choose not to be logged in when he or she is conducting a Google search. If a technology company does not provide the consumer with the option of opting out of the information-sharing clause in the contract, then the burden is on the consumer to petition for change.

Basically, follow the advice of those career counselors. Make your public online persona one of which your grandparents would approve.

Joline Doedens is a second-year law student. Her regular, biweekly column will resume in the Fall. You can follow Joline on Twitter @jydoedens.