Spying assistants don’t worry me
Hey, Google. I don’t care that you’re listening.
Privacy is a concern for the many in our internet-connected world. From the Yahoo account hacks to targeted Facebook advertisements to the data Siri is theoretically collecting every time you ask her a question, modern tech citizens are met with plenty of uncertainty when it comes to their data’s collection.
We use countless free services in exchange for giving our data to tech companies, but also paradoxically expect complete and total privacy in exchange.
I can count no less than 15 internet-connected devices in my home that have microphones on them. Each could be listening to my household’s conversations at all times. There’s a handful of phones and tablets, laptop computers, an Xbox, a couple of Google Assistant-powered smart home devices . . . even my smart TV remote is mic’d up.
In terms of virtual assistants, they are part of my life now. I use my voice to turn on lights, give me live traffic updates, ask celebrity trivia, track my packages, and remind me to do everything from put the recycling out on Tuesday nights, to when to leave the house to make an appointment on time.
When we’re not actually asking the virtual assistants in our devices for help, there’s still the possibility they ‘‘could be listening’’ to us.
We have little detail about the security of our devices, we don’t really understand what data of ours forever remains in the illusive cloud, and none of us actually read ‘‘terms & conditions’’ every time a new update is pushed.
We click ‘‘OK’’, trust companies with commercial imperatives to keep our information private, and go forth exposing our most personal and private thoughts.
I’m more than happy with this. I don’t believe complete privacy is a real expectation anymore. I accept that I pay nothing monetarily for any of these voiceassisted services, and if somebody out there is sitting behind a computer listening to me all the time, all the power to them.
In short, they’d learn that we have a conventional and boring life where nothing ever illegal happens and the majority of happenings in the house are entirely dull to the outside ear.
If I don’t do anything bad, shameful, or unlawful, why be afraid of the possibility tech companies are listening to my banal requests, questions, and conversations? I’m not.
I don’t care that ‘‘they’’ could be listening. That’s the price I pay for not coughing up any subscription fees whatsoever for the vast majority of my online services.
On the face of it, virtual assistants are a privacy nightmare. They don’t have to be always on to hear everything; it’s naive to think any device with a microphone couldn’t theoretically be listening, even if you’re not using the ‘‘hold to talk’’ functionality.
In reality, I’m not doing anything wrong, so I don’t care about this possibility. If somebody in a Silicon Valley computer lab happens to come across one of my conversations in some sort of monitoring, they can go for gold.
Collect my data, get smarter the more you listen, target more ads at me, log my schedule, and throw it all back in my face in 20 years time when I’m running for public office or something. I have nothing to hide. This is the price I pay for enjoying the conveniences of an internet-connected life. Nobody forced any of these virtual assistants into my home. I voluntarily let them in. If my deepest darkest secrets ever get exposed, I’ll only have myself to blame.