Monthly Archives: January 2010

The Internet is the Real Superhighway

Wendy Grossman has an interesting net.wars column up, Car talk, in which she expands on a CNBC suggestion that the Internet displaces the car:

… today's young people find their independence differently: through their cell phones and the Internet. … As children, many baby boomers shared bedrooms with siblings. Use of the family phone was often restricted. The home was most emphatically not a place where a young adult could expect any privacy.

Today, kids go out less, first because their parents worry about their safety, later because their friends and social lives are on tap from the individual bedrooms they now tend to have. And even if they have to share the family computer and use it in a well-trafficked location, they can carve themselves out a private space inside their phones, by text if not by voice.

That rings true: I had put down our eldest's seeming lack of enthusiasm for getting a driving license to his taste for being chauffeured — beats walking to the parking spot. But maybe it's the times and the PC in his room.

Posted in Internet | 4 Comments

Privacy is More About Control than About Content

Does the latest silly PR campaign on Facebook tell us something about changing attitudes towards privacy? The viral campaign is to have women change their 'status' to a color — the color of their bra — ostensibly because this this will 'raise awareness' of breast cancer. I'll leave it to others to dissect the merits of the campaign. (Although this line is pretty good: Telling the world your bra color does not raise awareness of breast cancer. It raises awareness of your bra color.) What interests me is the privacy angle.

In Black and white and red all over – what do those bra-color facebook updates tell us about privacy?, Prof. Wenger argues that the right frame to think about the privacy issue is 'spheres':

A fundamental notion in privacy is the idea of different spheres. This can be described as the classic public/private spheres, …

… I wonder how to analyze the mass voluntary participation of thousands of people engaged in a group sharing of a highly intimate piece of information. This is being done by women, who are particularly vulnerable to privacy attacks (especially relating to their intimate lives). And remember, facebook’s privacy default status is now that updates are open to the world! It’s striking to see crowds happily helping to assemble their own digital dossiers.

Here at the fringes of the public sphere, we're into spheres, but I wonder if that's the very best way to think about it. That said, there's clearly something going on here. As noted by the BBC, How online life distorts privacy rights for all, routinized online disclosure of facts once seen as private can reinforce changing conceptions of what's public and what's private. (Assuming, that is, that people, and especially those now young, continue to collapse the psychological distance between the virtual and real. But, back to the BBC🙂

People who post intimate details about their lives on the internet undermine everybody else's right to privacy, claims an academic.

Dr Kieron O'Hara has called for people to be more aware of the impact on society of what they publish online.

“If you look at privacy in law, one important concept is a reasonable expectation of privacy,” he said.

“As more private lives are exported online, reasonable expectations are diminishing.”

If I were in a quibbling mood, I'd suggest that the online behavior is actually somewhat less significant than this suggests both because I think it reflects something going on anyway out in the regular world (“meetspace” or “meatspace”) and because I think for most people the privacy implications of adding color or phrase in a Facebook listing is much less than it seems.

But I think that the real issue is that this is the wrong tempest in the wrong teapot.

To me the significant aspect about the Facebook incident, and to a large extent the issues that the BBC news story discusses, is that people are posting items about themselves. They control what to release and, initially, where. They decide whether to tell the truth. Is Jane Doe really wearing a chainmail bra? To me, that assertion is much less of a privacy issue than if Richard Roe is secretly photographing Jane with an infrared detector. If Jane is bragging about her SCA chops or perhaps even making it all up, she's in control of her data, at least initially.

True, important issues do arise when the self-reported information is republished, packaged, re-used in ways that Jane doesn't expect (or, worse, had taken reasonable precautions to prevent), and these can be thorny problems. Nevertheless, in a First Amendment world where we protect the right to repeat of the truth, or what in good faith is reasonably believed to be the truth, many of these problems have an easy legal if sometimes uncomfortable social resolution.

No, the issues we should be worried about are involuntary or coerced exposure of personal data, including intimate information, not voluntary clothing self-disclosure. This is especially true in a world in which many people in the US are less in the thrall of nudity or partial nudity taboos than might have been the case fifty years ago (although I suspect there are many variations here by decade and nation), but other people both here and abroad remain very much concerned about body image privacy.

x-ray-specs.gifThus, rather than worry about self-reported textual color information on Facebook, I think privacy scholars and advocates should be thinking hard about a much more important real-world problem: whether the US and other governments are going to mandate digital strip-searches as a condition of air travel. Even if the 'option' of a full-body search exists, few will opt for it because it too is intrusive, and because there's no guarantee it won't be so slow as to result in a missed flight.

It seems to me that the intrusion into privacy is much more severe for those who experience having some stranger use real-life X-ray specs on them as an invasion of bodily privacy than anything anyone could ever do to themselves on Facebook. How the full-body scanners are implemented will effect the extent of the privacy problem; some have suggested, for example, that the people viewing the images might be off-site somewhere where they would not be able to see the subject of the scan (or, conveniently, vice-versa), and they would text or radio in the all-clear or not depending on what they saw. There are also issues as to what measures will prevent storing the images.

Anything that creates some distance will make linking pictures to people harder, but it won't make it impossible. And of course it is only a matter of time before some enterprising scanning agent figures out how to take pictures of a digitally nude celebrity and sell them to the highest bidder. Entrepreneurs take note: both celebritybodyscan.com and celebrityairportscan.com have already been registered.

We don't yet know the details of how TSA proposes to manage the new scanners, and it is not obvious that TSA will disgorge the information willingly, so it is good to see that the Electronic Privacy Information Center has filed a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit to try to get more information about the program. Unfortunately, I suspect that many of the most interesting parts about how the images will be handled will fall under FOIA exception (b) which protects from disclosure all information “specifically authorized under criteria established by an Executive order to be kept secret in the interest of national defense or foreign policy and …are in fact properly classified pursuant to such Executive order.”

To me, privacy is not primarily about no one knowing things about me. Rather, it is about my ability to control what information I choose to make known about me and to whom, and to some degree to control — or in some circumstances at the very least stay informed — about the further sharing of that information. And that's why digital strip searches, a coerced privacy invasion by the government for what may or may not be a reasonable means to enhance the safety of all air travelers in the wake of the underwear bomber — seems a much bigger deal than self-reported possibly fictional underwear colors.

Posted in Law: Privacy | 1 Comment

2010 – the Year of the Beeps – Part Five

Fast forward to January 7. It is about 8am. Before she tied me up, the young lady who is ordering me about gave me a very silly hat, one that I would not be caught dead in on the street, and told me to put it on. When I didn’t put it on quite right, she adjusted it just the way she wanted. By now, however, I can’t defend myself: I am tied down in an uncomfortable chair – it would probably be much more comfortable for someone about three inches shorter – all trussed up like a gourmet bird about to be roasted. Food is on my mind, as is coffee: I have not been allowed any food or water since last night.

I cannot escape. My left arm is tied to my right leg; my body is held onto the chair by a series of thick straps. A clamp grips my right index finger. Every so often a painful contraption chokes off the circulation in my left arm. People pay good money for this sort of treatment. Indeed, I was forced to pay in advance. And it wasn’t at all cheap.

The chair to which I am tied is in the center of a large room. There is a lot of ominous-looking stuff just out of reach, including a series of large plastic articulated arms which might be movable lights, although they are angled so one could imagine them to be all sorts of things. All but one of the lights are turned off. Earlier, before they all left me here all alone and went off somewhere where I can neither see nor hear them, there was a young woman in here, dressed in a sort of uniform, pointing one of the objects right in my face – it is a bright light – explaining that in a few minutes they were going to stab me with something sharp, and make me bleed. Along the wall to my left is a nozzle a bit like what one would use to plug a garden hose to the outside of the house, but this one is inside and nothing is plugged into it. (Do they use it to sluice down the blood?)

There is a loud beeping noise, like the sound of my own heart, coming from behind me, but I can’t move my head to see what is making it. The woman explains that after they have taken all the blood they will want will feed me my own blood – inject it, actually. After that they have done that, she says, a man (for she is just an assistant, I am going to attended to by a veritable team) is going to take a series of very sharp and nasty-looking implements casually displayed at eye level for my viewing pleasure – and their easy reach – and cut a nice hole into me. Foreign substances will be introduced. The metal bits look nasty. There are a lot of shiny implements with sharp bits, in all different sizes, all laid out in rows. (I asked for this. I am paying for this. It is probably not too late. I could ask them to let me go and they surely would.)

As all this is explained to me in an incongruously cheerful manner, the beeps matching my heart rate go up a bit. Eventually the man comes. To add insult to imminent injury he is wearing a big Florida Gator’s hat that covers all his hair. He asks disapprovingly if I am nervous. He attacks my arm. Blood goes everywhere – “a gusher,” he says. I don’t find it as funny as he does. “We’re going to feed you a little cocktail now,” he says.

I want to protest that I don’t drink before lunch, but they inject it intravenously and very soon I am unconscious. Two hours later I’m awake again and my dental surgery is pronounced a success.

Now I can only eat mush for a week, which really puts me a good mood. Then again, they did prescribe some strong stuff.

Is this the right frame of mind for grading, or an excuse to put it off?

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2010 – the Year of the Beeps – Part Four

Think of this as an intermission, as no beeps were directly involved, but on the January 5th the downstairs heater lost the plot. It didn't beep. It didn't in fact seem to want to do anything.

Florida, coincidentally, is enjoying it longest cold spell in recorded history.

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2010 – the Year of the Beeps – Part Three

The third set of beeps started going off on January 3rd. They were most audible from in my study but it wasn’t clear if it was the smoke detector in the study or at the top of the stairs. I said one, my oldest said the other. Fine, I told him, replace both.

Being a teenager he preferred to just stand there until he figured out which it was. Being a dad, I had him change the other one anyway, on the theory that having all been installed at the same time, they are all about to go. He's tall, and the ladder is right there.

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2010 – the Year of the Beeps – Part Two

January 1st. Too early in the day. Downstairs something was beeping.

That alone isn't saying much, it seems like every time we bring something new into the house it wants to beep at us. The programmable coffee pot beeps when the coffee is done dripping, and again when the hot plate turns off. The microwave, the washer, the dryer (but not the dishwasher) beep when they are done. The dryer even has an option to keep tumbling clothes every few minutes for a few more hours at the cycle is done in service of the idea that they will get less wrinkled, but that only makes it beep all the more.

But this wasn't one of the usual beeps, it was surplus. And it came and went. Beep. Delay. Beep. Delay. Beep. Very very very long delay.

The noise seemed to come from the kitchen. Or as it the dining room? By the time I'd get over there, the beeps would stop. And then start again some twenty or thirty minutes later.

Eventually I decided it was coming from the garage (which has a door to the kitchen). That made the leading suspects the garage smoke detector and its neighboring carbon monoxide detector. Neither was blinking. Both are installed right next to each other, in very high in a hard-to-reach location about ten feet off the floor. I can get to them by standing on a large object to the left of the four stairs leading down from the kitchen, then taking a very long stretch to stand on the small edge of the little platform that holds up our air pusher. It's rather precarious there, although there are walls to push against to keep from falling. It's very hard to get down again. I wasn't going up there until I was sure I needed to.

It wasn't until Saturday, the 2nd, that I caught the carbon monoxide detector in the act. Climbing up revealed that the alarm meant the backup 9V battery was low, not that I was about to asphyxiate – that would have rated four beeps in quick succession. A quick battery change, some more gymnastics, and peace.

Temporarily.

Posted in Sufficiently Advanced Technology | 5 Comments