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David Spates Maybe the NSA runs How much privacy is enough? That was the topic of lunch conversation one
day at Schlotzsky's. My coworkers and I love to hash out the
issues of the day over piping hot Timberline chili and pastrami
sandwiches on dark rye. We're a fun group. Anyway, I put it to you, the Chronicle reader:
How much privacy is enough? Our conversation started, I believe, from
a remark regarding someone's disdain of those "bonus"
cards big grocery store chains strong-arm us into using. We all
know it's essentially an information-gathering program. The stores
(and I'm not picking on any one in particular here; they all
do it now) want to know who's buying what so they may use that
information for any number of reasons - direct mail promotions,
coupon deals to entice you to buy more Fruit Loops, or whatever. All of this is done under the guise of saving
you, the cherished customer, money. Well, does anyone fall for
that? Puhhllleeeaassse! The stores simply jack up the price on
those items, but if you're wily enough to use the bonus card
you're entitled to the "special" price, which simply
is the original price before the store increased it. Now, when
you see the "real" price vs. the "special"
price, you're supposed to shake off about 40 IQ points and think
you're getting a great deal. But they've got you - you either
use the card or you pay prices so high that it makes beach-town
grocery store prices seem reasonable. Well, I've found a way to have a little fun
with that. I hold at least one (maybe more - you'll never know!)
ersatz "special price" card. I simply gave the store
a fake name, fake address and fake telephone number. It's my
little way of sticking my tongue out at corporate America. It's
none of their business what kind of cereal, toothpaste and lettuce
I like. (Which is, by the way, Corn Chex, Colgate and Romaine,
respectively.) During our second bowl of chili, we at Schlotzsky's
also talked about how giving up privacy is a give-and-take relationship.
We, the citizenry, sacrifice some privacy for the sake of convenience.
If you truly wanted to be a private citizen,
you'd have to give up banking, credit cards, telephones, mail,
Internet, driving privileges, voting rights and a host of other
goods and services. We don't give these things up, however, because
we'd rather surrender a little piece of privacy to enjoy the
convenience. (Voting is a special circumstance since it's a "right"
not a "privilege." I'll be looking into this in the
coming weeks.) We don't need any of those things which cost
us a little privacy. We want ATM access, mail delivered to our
homes, the ability to buy now and pay later, the privilege of
buying and legally driving a car, and we want phones - lots of
phones! I don't need to buy books, CDs, DVDs and a zillion other
unnecessary items over the Internet, but I have decided that
the convenience is worth the private information I give up. The
price - in terms of both dollars and privacy - is right. One other little thing I like to do in regard
to privacy is to have a little fun with the National Security
Agency. If you believe the stories about the Echelon network,
the NSA is listening to and cataloging every phone conversation
in the world. The same goes for the Internet. All of this is
done under the pretense of national security. According to the news reports I've watched
and read, Echelon originally was devoted solely to monitoring
communications from the Soviet Union and its East Bloc allies.
Today, Echelon searches for hints of terrorism, drug dealing
and political intelligence. The system works, so the stories
go, with computers listening for key words like bomb, assassinate,
heroin, etc. When the computers hear those words, they catalog
the conversation so that a government operative can listen to
it in its entirety. Not surprisingly, the NSA (which boasts an
estimated budget of $3.6 billion - more than the FBI and CIA
combined) isn't saying much about Echelon. An uncle of mine,
who is retired from the NSA, isn't saying much either. Anyway, what I like to do is work in bomb,
explosion and crack shipment into my everyday telephone conversations
as much as possible. It gives the boys in Fort Meade, MD, something
to listen to. Let them kill some time listening to my wife and
I decide where we want to eat dinner. Maybe Deep Throat will
call back and suggest a great place for Italian food. I call
it "fun with tax dollars." If you can't have a little fun with the grocery stores and the supersecret intelligence organizations of the world, then you're just letting the good things in life pass you by. |