The "Pleasures" of Anonymity

Camera Obscura--"Let's Get Out Of This Country" (mp3)
And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead--"Source Tags and Codes" (mp3)


While goofing around the Internet this afternoon, I came upon a "best of" list of songs, the one that is referenced at the end of this post. I was excited because I didn't know most of the songs. And the people who commented on the post were mostly complimentary as well. All except one. Anonymous wrote the following: "This is the worst Top 50 list I have ever seen."

Cowardly? Shitty? Perhaps. If he was going to be so critical, why couldn't he be man enough to reveal his identity? Or hers. Maybe there were reasons. Maybe there were reasons I also used anonymity to respond positively to one of Billy's posts last week.

If it isn't already gone, anonymity may soon become a thing of the past. Cameras, PIN #s, tracking codes, hidden GPS's in our cell phones, just about every aspect of life makes it no longer possible to fly under the radar, or, better put, under the satellites' all-seeing eyes. Think about it. What can you still do that you can do without anyone knowing that you are doing it or knowing who you are? That may not be a big deal to you; to me, it is the essence of freedom.

And please be clear about one thing: there isn't anything secretive that I want to do. At least, nothing comes immediately to mind.

But I am enough of a child of the early 70's, though, to think that this abolition of anonymity is not a good thing. And, enough of a historian to know that from the Federalist Papers in the early days of the republic to "Deep Throat" at the height of the Watergate cover-up, a person's ability to remain anonymous was crucial to moving our country forward.

This year, all kinds of people are calling for reform concerning the use of traffic cameras here in Tennessee. I have always been opposed to them. I know that they can and do save lies--that is not the controlling issue for me. Instead, I embrace the idea that what a person does inside of his or her car that he or she can get away with is okay. Our school also has cameras all over the place. They help to solve crimes, especially theft, when crimes are committed. Someone, probably a friend of mine, pours over hours of tapes trying to identify the most likely student to have committed the crime. Often, he solves them. I am still opposed to the cameras.

The idea that cameras are everywhere, watching and recording us, is disturbing. The idea that every place we go on a computer is recorded is intrusive. The idea that every word we speak into a telephone can be reviewed somewhere is disconcerting. And wrong. As is the recently-revealed fact that our phone companies can track us using our cell phones any time they want to.

Safety is important to me; privacy is more important. Must one be sacrificed in favor of the other? I don't think so. There is no doubt that things changed after 9/11, but we have never, as a country, had the philosophical discussion we needed to have, instead arguing in our own minds that things had to change and that there was nothing that we could/should do about it. I have argued this point more than once, usually with people who adopt a stance of "I don't care about this; I don't have anything to hide."

Well, I don't have anything to hide either. At least, not now. But I might someday and it might be something worth hiding.

I am one of those people who ponders anonymous acts, but then never does them, out of fear that they really won't be anonymous. You know, would like to put posters around that say what I really think or write on bathroom stall walls to clarify what really happened in a given situation. But I don't.

There is a competing school of thought which argues that if you have something to say, you need to have the balls to say it directly, openly, publicly. But that isn't always prudent or safe. Depending on the situational or historical context, doing so would get you fired, imprisoned, or even shot. And that implies a world where a range of opinions are welcome. But are they? Even in this most open of societies, what we have to say can get us into all kinds of trouble. Personally, I have yet to know a person in charge of something who, though he or she claims to want honest feedback, doesn't get angry when it comes. Nationally, I have yet to see us embrace with open arms the person who challenges the status quo.

There is also a pragmatic perspective which argues that we should use every bit of technology at our disposal to intervene on potential crimes and acts of terrorism before they occur, but the power this puts in the hands of the watchers is terrifying to me; it invites scenarios like the ones in the movie, Minority Report.

There should be anonymous outlets for expression. One of the great ironies of the open society people like me crave is that we want sometimes to be able to hide behind that cloak or anonymity. Instead, there are apparently-anonymous outlets. But if someone wants to know who you are, there are ways of finding out.

I remember when a teacher was fired during my first year of teaching, I pondered many nights when I was over making copies leaving a note which addressed the situation. I wanted to ask the faculty as a whole why no one had made any comment about the firing of a colleague. It was a very confusing and troubling time for a new teacher. Surely, I thought, someone was upset about it, someone would protest. But they didn't. And I never left my note. I thought that my note would somehow identify me as that lone person who would dare to stir up trouble regarding the firing.

On a lighter note, these days, an entire portion of my childhood is no longer possible. I remember those 6th and 7th grade years when, during a sleepover at someone's house, we would call up the all-night radio shows and pretend to be someone that we weren't. I remember taking on a British accent for the Jack somebody show and us calling about 1 AM, trying to stifle our giggles, and me saying, in poor Brit-speak, "I'm an avid bird watcher, and I'd like to talk to Jack about birds." Of course, the producer or whomever answered the phone knew that we were kids, and dealt with us accordingly, but the fact that he couldn't quite know who or what we were gave us confidence to keep trying.

Nowadays, when a student uses an Internet service for deaf people to send a message to a faculty member that he would "like to put his beef in [her] taco," the tech staff quickly zeroes in on the exact computer that the message was sent from and he finds himself suspended. Maybe he should be. Maybe that's a heinous crime; it certainly tends towards sexual harassment. Or maybe it's just the modern variation of the prank phone calls that everyone from my generation used to make.

I know we've got to track down the creepos who hide behind secret identities, but if your refrigerator is running, I guess I'd still like to be able to call you up and tell you that you'd better go catch it. Do we really live in a society where there are so many people that need watching that we need to watch everyone all the time?

Both songs come from a terrific "Best Songs Of The Decade" list over at Heart Ache With Hard Work.