Hello Friends,
While looking for material for this week's newsletter, I came across an article in Popsci.com–Your car could be capturing data on your sex life.
From the article comes this:
…at least two companies—Nissan and Kia—include Privacy Policy data categories explicitly labeled “sexual activity” and “sex life.” Exactly what kind of data this entails isn’t clear, but new cars often come equipped with microphones and cameras. Even if this data is somehow anonymized and aggregated, chances are those in the market for a new vehicle might want to take a closer look.
I usually just cruise (pun?) past these "privacy" articles, because a long time ago, I simply accepted that every I do is captured by someone. But, this might go a road (another pun?) too far.
When I learned to drive in high school, a car was a symbol of freedom. Not only did a car transported you to places you craved to go, like the mall, but it provided a safe eden for you and your friends to be teenagers. I had exploits in my car that I haven't told my parents or my kids (or even admitted to myself.)
Now, our cars not only violate that sacred space, but the data that is collected is often sold to third-parties, companies that more than likely want to sell you something or sell someone something about you. I'm not sure who would want to sell anything to a guy who sings loudly, off-key and picks his nose in traffic. But, apparently, even that data is worth something to someone.
Years ago, I used to work for a digital advertising company, and at the time, location data—where you are at and where you had been—was getting to be valuable. This was because when you have your GPS services turned on in your cell phone, enterprising applications could push a digital coupon for the store you were about to enter. Win-win! The store gets some action; you get 10% off a pair of loafers or a loaf of bread.
This was sold as a convenience, and loads of us jump at the opportunity to "Check In"—we still do. But it is our choice to perform that action. First, we need our GPS turned on, and second, we have to decide to press the button.
When you are forced to accept a privacy policy that you have no control over, you have no choice but to give up some bit of your freedom. And, when your data is not only collected, but sold to some other company, you do not know who is actually looking at it (or what they are looking for).
A fast-food chain knowing where you are seems relatively innocuous: particularly, if they followed you to the local dispensary and then could predict that you might want to super-size something greasy within a half-hour of leaving.
But what if it's an insurance company who purchases the data, and they use it to decide that you drive too fast and increase your rate? Because that data is bought and sold, too. And, with AI in the game, who knows what kind of conclusions a data scientist can make out of what you do in your car. You have no knowledge they have the data or how they are using it.
What’s particularly infuriating these findings is that, as Mozilla explains, there simply isn’t much everyday car owners can do about it. Each individualized review of the 25 carmakers includes a section entitled “Tips to protect yourself,” which includes suggestions such as to avoid using a car’s app and limiting its permissions on your phone.
Basically, you must accept these "features" if you want to accept the conveniences of a modern, digitally enhanced life.
And, to get back to my first point—we shouldn't be surprised, because everything we do is already being captured by someone. It's sad that we now have to presume that everything is public by default.
I still say it's a different animal from telling Facebook where you are. When you signed up for Facebook, you knew that its purpose was to put things on the Internet. When you gave me your email, you knew I was going to use it for something (these amazing weekly newsletters!).
When you get in your car, shut the door, and tune the radio to the local college A Capella hour so you can sing along, you should be entitled to a presumption of privacy. You should not have to steer through a maze of winding roads to opt out of data collection. (puns!)
BTW, I ain't selling your email to anyone—you're stuck with me (unless, I guess, you unsubscribe).
Happy reading and happy writing.
David