by John T. Spencer
I'm bothered that Google has a profile on me. I've known it for years, but something about the new Terms and Services (I'd go Google it and add a link there, but I'm too lazy) seems like a creepier step closer to Big Brother. Which I think is the problem. I already view Google as a Big Brother - a giant android there to help me, adding the training wheels to life and pushing me on my way so that I can function.
I make the assumption that my data is safe and that this profile is somehow different from the real me that taps away at a machine. But if the online me is still me, a part of me, full of interests and ideas and questions and drives - then I'm making a bold assumption about the inherent benevolence of Big Brother Google.
To illustrate the power of this codependent relationship, I'm thinking about what it would look like if I had a falling out with Google. This has already happened in real-life with my twin brother and the lasting effects are that I'm a little more insecure relationally and I deeply miss the man who shares such a long history with me. On a relational level, the impact is subtly present. However, in terms of functioning, I'm doing okay at life without him.
Now, consider a falling out with Big Brother Google. In one day, I would lose all my contacts. I would lose my calendar, both in terms of what I have already done and in terms of what I need to do. I would have to ask sheepishly for people's birthdays. I would lose my ability to communicate with distant friends through e-mail. I would lose my blog, the domain name that goes with it and the community that has stuck with me for several years. I would lose whole manuscripts of books I wrote and books I'm trying to write. I would lose our family's budget and critical work documents and the fragments of spiritual journals that I started and then abandoned out of boredom. I would lose important things like the PD site I am developing right now and insignificant endeavors like the sketchy videos I've added to my blog.
In other words, I would lose a chunk of life. I would lose a sense of place. I'm sure I would find the manuscripts on my backup hard drive and I would find a way to go to Wordpress and I would hope that people still find me on Twitter. Still, I would instantly break relationships through lack of organization. I would feel lost.
There's something unnerving about how much I depend upon one corporation in order to function in this world. I still have a voice, but I'm willingly filtering it through the white noise of Google, hoping that when they claim "don't be evil" as a mantra, they'll stick to it.