Privacy — what a quaint concept, one that has largely gone
out of fashion. At the time I wrote this, I had just gone to see the movie IRON
LADY. While Margaret Thatcher’s politics aren’t mine, I did recognize that
there were admirable aspects to her character, even if I disagreed with many of
her choices. What struck me most strongly, though, was the divide between her
private feelings and her public face.
We’ve largely lost that divide, for better or worse. Today
we let everything hang out. Not that I’m necessarily promoting stiff upper
lips. Still, while it’s good that people don’t have to suffer in silence now,
that we can turn to others for help and advice in dark times, perhaps we’ve
gone too far. Do we really have to post every personal sensation on Facebook
and Twitter?
I’m not sure whether cell phones started the privacy
decline, or if it would have happened without them. Working in retail as I do,
I see lots of cell phone intrusions. I’m happy to report that many of our
customers do issue a polite “Excuse me,” to us and other customers in the store
and go outside to conduct their conversation. Sure, they’re usually shouting
out there, since cell phone reception combined with the normal sounds of
outdoor spaces, usually results in greater volume. But at least they’re not
shouting in our bookstore. Others aren’t as polite. They answer right there,
and conduct their book browsing with the help of some unknown person.
That behavior isn’t just limited to bookstores, either. Once
while I stood in line at the grocery store, the man behind me called someone
and read all the tabloid covers to that person while we waited.
“Dude,” I wanted to say, “you need a life.” But I was trying
to give him his personal space, even if he didn’t seem to need it.
Recently, I experienced an odd intrusion from the extended
non-privacy sphere. Let me explain. We put Google Ads on our bookstore’s
website to create an additional source of revenue. It hasn’t worked that well.
Since the word “books” is repeated throughout the website, it has mostly
generated book-related ads. Some for all the many subsidy publishing companies
mushrooming today, and others for our competitors, which are supposed to be
blocked but aren’t consistently. You might say that since I invited the ads in,
I’m responsible for my own challenges in this area, and that’s nothing I
haven’t thought of myself.
But I hadn’t expected one bizarre aspect. The Google ads are
accessed by a user name related to the store. While signed OUT of that account,
but still in the same computer I use for everything related to the Google ads,
I recently conducted a personal Google search among household décor suppliers.
I wanted to identify the style of kitchen faucet we have, which came with the
house, so I could search for a replacement part.
Bingo! Only moments later, faucet ads appeared on our
bookstore’s ads. Coincidence? To test my dawning theory, while still signed out
of the account associated with the ads, I performed a few more deliberate
searches. For clothes, shoes, furniture, kitchen gadgets. Sure enough, all of
those products and advertisers also showed up in our ads.
It gave me an icky feeling, though. On one hand, I now have
a tool to better control the ads that pop up on my bookstore’s website, even if
it does seem a bit convoluted to perform seemingly unrelated searches from
another account for products that don’t really interest me. But it also makes
me feel weird and watched when I realize the extent to which we’re being
electronically monitored.
Remember when we thought Big Brother would be the
government? Turns out we were wrong.
I’m happy to share some of my thoughts and aspects of my
life with others. Including this either creepy or clever technique for
influencing the content of Internet ads. But I’d like to reserve other aspects
for my personal use. For a while longer anyway. There was a time when we never
would have thought we’d be forever shouting personal messages into unwired
phones. Who knows where else we’re headed in this brave new world.
Do you lament the decline of privacy, or have you failed to
notice its passing?
