It’s in the vault
Is privacy possible in the digital age?
BY Terence Dick
Shortly before my computer gave up the ghost, I considered the possibility of establishing a “Personal Vault” for my digital stuff. I became aware of this added service through a convincing spam campaign from my internet provider, but remained of two minds as to its use. Saving my files and photographs on some strange server, somewhere in the easily accessible recesses of cyberspace, seemed reckless. Even if they professed to lock it up within an architecture constructed of a “redundant array of independent nodes” (whatever that is), the idea of handing over these bits and bytes made me nervous.
Out of my hands, out of the humming box under my desk, and in reach of any terminal, wired or wireless, around the globe, my personal thoughts, family snapshots and embarrassing first drafts (not to mention failed attempts at fiction and philosophy) would be at risk of … what? Theft?
Then my computer died and the contents of my entire hard drive flashed before my eyes. In block letters on the top of my most recent “to do” list was written: BACK UP FILES!!! The same block letters (minus the exclamation points) appeared on the past six months’ worth of “to do” lists. Why don’t I listen to myself? Suddenly the purpose of the Personal Vault was made glaringly evident. It didn’t seem that much different from a safety deposit box. I let the bank hold on to cherished, irreplaceable items; why wouldn’t I trust my ISP to do the same? They already had access (presumably) to my passwords and (potentially embarrassing) email and I trusted them to respect my privacy.
The big difference was that my files were endlessly reproducible; I could duplicate them, save them on different computers, even get around to making those backups. They weren’t my grandfather’s wristwatch or a signed confession by Scooter Libby, and it was this flipside to their safety that had me worried for my privacy. The ease with which we can access, copy, and transfer information is shocking for those of use who still choose to remember life before the internet. The IT security experts are constantly warning us about the ever-present danger of this fluidity, so of course I’d be worried. But then, I thought, why bother?
There’s so much stuff online, so much personal information, so many confessional blogs, revealing photos and bad writing, that I figured anything I left there would just get lost in the overgrowth. Hiding in plain sight so to speak, and that’s a protective gesture in its own right, one that has become common to the denizens of online-land.
Emily Nussbaum wrote about it recently in New York magazine. I heard about her article from sometime This contributor Clive Thompson’s blog. She’s his wife. Why do I know any of this? Because, as Nussbaum points out, we are increasingly living out our formerly private lives in public. She identifies it as a phenomenon particular to youth, one that divides generations. The young have decided to become transparent and embrace the constant surveillance of the present day (as purchases are tracked, cookies are left, user names registered and chat room conversations archived). Their attitude is privacy doesn’t exist so why pretend that it does? Nussbaum touts Paris Hilton as the poster-girl for these post-private times, but I can’t help but wonder if her refusal to apologize for public disgraces is part of the same laissez-faire ethos that allows the U.S. government to admit to failures and deceptions, and then go on with their dayto- day business none the worse for wear.
Maybe we’re all Teflon? Maybe we don’t need to hide anymore? No regrets! No secrets! But I’m not a teenager. In fact, I’m teaching teenagers these days and I have never felt so protective of my person. Employers are now using Google to locate any humiliating information that doesn’t make it onto a potential candidate’s CV. I’m suddenly worried for my job when I realize that items of questionable taste can easily be found connected to my name online. The kids would probably understand, but would their parents? Now I have a whole new set of worries. My own files are innocuous compared to what’s already out there. If only I could put some of that in my Personal Vault.
