While I would like to believe my closest friends and family members know me best, a recent request for my data shared an inconvenient and slightly unsettling truth: Google knows me better than my mother, my spouse and my therapist combined.

In fact, if we were ever to participate in a game show to see who knows me best, Google and its servers would emerge as sole victors.

What was once just a humble search engine, is now a tech giant with the ability to influence and impact the digital ecosystem. Hey, I’m not attacking it. I understand all these sites and services only go through all that trouble of gathering my web and app [application] activity, tracking my interests, location and behaviours, and innocently skimming through my emails, so they can serve ‘me’ better. In the end, all that data harvesting is just for ‘my’ benefit.

Do I mind? Of course not! Why would I? As long as it’s convenient, free and makes my life easy.

For example, just last night, I asked AI to finish a simple task for me. I may or may not have typed: ‘And a greta /Balck firday deel was enoisgh to tpi tge balance in hsi favor. Add tihs to tge story and regirte ti” Full disclosure: I’m a terrible typist. And when I’m in a hurry, I type as articulately as a drunken sailor walks on a storm-tossed ship.

Is giving tech giants access to personal information for a ‘better’ user experience worth the trade-off?

In time-crunched moments, I often send texts as comprehensible as the one above. Some recipients, such as my mother, discount them as long strings of gibberish, the result of a butt text. My closest friends politely respond with a ‘?’ while some, like my slow-witted siblings, brusquely propose I save whatever limited dignity I have and stick to voice notes.

As for AI? Oh, she gets me! Not only does she decipher my typo-laden commands, but she also graciously overlooks my inadequacies, embracing them as mere quirks and responding quickly with the answers I urgently seek.

So, yes, as a millennial, I like my tech-integrated lifestyle: my phone monitors my screen time and reminds me to hydrate and take breaks. My smart watch keeps tabs on my unhealthy sleep patterns and lack of exercise. Siri helps my kid with his maths homework, while Alexa’s ready and waiting for me to holler at her (instead of the kids) to switch off the lights and other gadgets.

While we may believe ourselves to be intellectually superior than our ancestors, our fast reflexes as we hit ‘accept’ aren’t exactly helping our ‘evolutionary’ cause. Now is a good time as ever to start reading the fine print and reconsider giving away sensitive personal information.

Google Maps silently observes where I’ve shopped and what I’ve sought and then thoughtfully slips in targeted ads, as I doom-scroll Instagram at 2am. Flo manages to sound the alarm and forewarn of an unpredictable storm. Then, of course, there’s my faithful Roomba, ready to kiss and clean the ground I walk on.

Why would I not love tech, AI and the ease that comes with it? In return, all they ask is my permission and little bits of data.

Cookies? I’ll allow it!

‘Terms and Conditions’ that are legally binding in court? Yes, yes, I accept.

Privacy Policy of a third-party app that wants access to my camera and contacts? Knock yourself out guys. I mean, Gmail is giving me 15 GB of free storage. I’m sure the company has my best interest at heart!

Sensitive personal information for a health app to track my symptoms? I don’t see any harm.

Do I really need to be so concerned about app permissions, cookies and privacy policies? Haven’t we already covered this privacy-breach freak-out party?

And really, what’s the worst that could happen?

Well, for one, an AI-powered iRobot could snap a compromising photo of a beta-tester on the toilet, which could then end up on the internet because of a third-party breach. Or Alexa could lie and opt for profits over consumer privacy, only to be found guilty of child privacy violations. Or, maybe, sophisticated data operations could be used to sway public opinion and manipulate political campaigns.

But perhaps a recent dystopian legal tactic by none other than Disney can really make you question if mindlessly tapping through T&C is the same as casually strolling into a legally binding trap.

During a visit to Disney World in Orlando, Dr Kanokporn Tangsuan suffered a fatal allergic reaction to food at a restaurant in a Disney-owned shopping centre. Her husband filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Disney and the restaurant, claiming they ignored her severe nut and dairy allergies, despite repeated warnings.

Disney’s knee-jerk reaction was to argue that by signing up for Disney+ in 2019 and buying park tickets, Tangsuan’s husband had agreed to terms requiring disputes with Disney to be resolved in arbitration, not in court. When faced with a backlash, Disney announced it didn’t really mean it that way (Oh, but you did!) and has waived its right to arbitration (Gee, thanks!).

But Disney isn’t the only company working hard to place this ace up their sleeve. More and more companies are adding sweeping arbitration clauses to their terms. Walmart and Airbnb also aggressively steer lawsuits towards arbitration — a private legal process where plaintiffs often feel like they’ve shown up to a gunfight with a pool noodle.

‘Who in their right mind would sign this,’ you may ask. Great question. That would be us.

We, consumers of sane mind, have opted to authorise these corporations to use our data to learn more about us and our gullibility, and to use it as kryptonite. While the term “privacy policy” sounds protective of consumers, it actually serves the company. A privacy policy isn’t asking you if it can use your data. Rather, it’s just FYI-ing to let you know it will be using your data.

A study by Deloitte found that around 91 percent of users consent to terms of service without reading them. In another survey of 100 people, conducted by a digital privacy group called ProPrivacy, only one respondent took the time to read the questions closely enough to understand that they would be granting drones access to the airspace above their home.

While we may believe ourselves to be intellectually superior than our ancestors, our fast reflexes as we hit ‘accept’ aren’t exactly helping our ‘evolutionary’ cause. Now is a good time as ever to start reading the fine print and reconsider giving away sensitive personal information.

Alternately, you could use ToS;DR (Terms of Service; Didn’t Read), a user rights initiative that offers a free browser extension and claims that “I have read and agree to the terms” is “the biggest lie on the web.” The site rates agreements from A to E, with A being very good to E being very bad. (Google’s an E, btw) As Alexa randomly starts to plays ‘Every Breath You Take’ by The Police, I can’t help but wonder if Sting is simply delivering a message from Big Brother:

‘Every breath you take/ And every move you make/ Every bond you break/ Every step you take/ I’ll be watching you/ Every single day/ And every word you say/ Every game you play/ Every night you stay/ I’ll be watching you’ With devices tracking every move, and Netflix, Kindle, Apple Music and Amazon having detailed logs of my tastes, habits and reading and listening patterns, I am but an open book. Naïve, predictable and susceptible. And as Google’s predictive analysis combs through my search history, calendar, activities and emails, it dawns on me that it probably knows me better than I do myself.

The writer is a humour columnist

Published in Dawn, EOS, November 10th, 2024