We all know the internet
spies on us. It knows more about you than you do. And it’s always willing
to listen.
The big reason: The more
it knows about you, the more it can target you for ads you’re likely to respond
to. This can be worrisome.
Especially when all this highly touted technology gets things
consistently wrong.
The best example is when
Facebook suggests “friends.” This is a two part process. First, they look for people you’ve connected
with. Then they find the connections’ connections and “suggest” them as
“People You May Know.” The system is imperfect. To the point where six
isn’t a large enough degree of separation.
It’s possible that
retired BART train operator Bart Bartley of San Francisco and I would like each
other or at least have something to talk about. About what? Maybe subway cars? Or we could debate whose ocean is better. We have a possible connection only in that
we’re two retired guys from cities that have famous names and oceanfronts.
Then there’s Sally
Weatherby, freshman at Mercer County, West Virginia Community College, and a
hairstyling major. Sally can’t be a day over 18. Does she have grandpa issues, or what? Would she want to practice cutting my
hair? Sorry, I’m all out of that.
Maybe Bart, Sally and I
can get together on line and try to figure out what practical joker of a
computer algorithm suggested us to each other.
But we’re unlikely to
form a conclusion that’s beyond reasonable doubt. That’s because we don’t
understand how these machines work.
Neither do the people who design, build or run them. But if you
use techno-speak or at least the word “technology” often enough, people will
just assume they know stuff you don’t.
The word technology is
overused to the point of meaninglessness. Tech in new cars? Sure. Tech in modern diagnostic medical equipment?
Of course. But technology in tooth brushes, shoes, cooking vessels and
utensils? Gimme a break!
Facebook and Google (and
Amazon if you have one of its robot bugging devices) know how many times a day
you go to the bathroom, what you had for breakfast and which advertiser’s
products best suit your bathroom and mealtime habits.
So how do they get the
“friend” thing wrong? Possibly because people lie when they write their
profiles. Bart Bartley may have been a broom jockey, not the train
motorman he says he was.
Sally Weatherby may have
confused Facebook with a dating site like Cozy Coalminers or Beauty
Operators.com.
The big mystery that
springs from this post is simple: Do we want Facebook to improve its mastery of
our biographies or are we content to let them screw things up and scroll
through the pictures of all the guys and dolls we never heard of, would never
meet in real life and have no interest in knowing.
It’s kind of an organic
or accidental version of 21st Century privacy.
I’m Wes Richards. My
opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®
Comments? Send ‘em here:
wesrichards@gmail.com
We will never sell, rent
or otherwise “share” your personal information.
© WJR 2019
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