At the
Root
I
am Not a Number, I'm a Customer!
by Wendy
McElroy
Yesterday, upon attempting to withdraw a respectable but not
impressive sum of money from my bank account, I was asked,
"What do you want it for?" The question was not
hostile, but it was repeated when I refused to answer.
Then, upon arriving at the airport, the clerk required a photo-ID
before issuing me a boarding pass. Air lines allegedly adopted
this requirement in response to terrorism. Of course, it
conveniently killed the sale of "frequent flyer"
tickets that regular customers sold to strangers -- a black
market practice that cost the air lines a fortune. Although the
ticket itself is 'proof of purchase' and everyone in the
counter's queue has already been electronically frisked for
weapons, people passively line up to prove their identity before
receiving a pre-paid service: they do so because the demand is
phrased in terms of safety.
Within a generation, no one may remember when people withdrew
their own money or traveled within their own country without
justifying themselves.
The private sector is rushing to gather personal information on
customers. Internet companies, like AOL, share information with
government agencies. Corporations routinely use urine tests
to check for drugs. Social Security Numbers are required
business I.D. despite original government assurances that this
would not happen. Debit cards create records of users' personal
preferences, down to their brand of canned peas and reading
choices, and these records are marketable. They are also used in
legal proceedings, e.g. Monica Lewinsky's reading preferences. In
short, private enterprise is spying on customers and demanding
information far above anything required by law. This would not
have been tolerated ten years ago. When it was openly
practiced in the early 1900s, it had disastrous results for
liberty.
For example, in the days of World War I (and shortly thereafter),
deputized members of the American Legion often attended labor
meetings in Los Angeles to arrest the radicals they found there.
Those arrested were taken to the Merchants and Manufacturers
Association. In my upcoming book, Queen Silver: the Godless
Girl (Prometheus, Dec. '99), a young radical of the '20s
recalls,
"...the Merchants and Manufacturers Association in Los
Angeles at that time was the group maintaining the files . It was
not done primarily by the police department, but by private
organizations. When radicals were arrested, they were usually not
taken -- at least, my mother was not taken -- to the police
department. They were taken to the Merchants and
Manufacturers Association. On one occasion, they showed my mother
her file...
"They had everything from the time she had left the farm, to
her speaking on Boston Common and every organization she'd ever
spoken for and, I suppose, every man she'd been friendly
with."
Business had become an extension of police power.
The records collected by the Merchants and Manufacturers
Association were used in the infamous Palmer Raids -- a precursor
to the tactics of Senator McCarthy -- through which the
government targeted labor radicals in America for intense
harassment, including deportation. The brutal fact is: private
enterprise has a rich history of voluntarily co-operating with
government to violate the privacy of customers and other peaceful
individuals. It is criminally niave to believe assurances that
this wealth of infor mation will not shared with government or
otherwise used.
My response has been to argue with virtually everyone who asks an
intrusive question. Why do you need my middle name? What does my
birth date have to do with buying a television? If I pay cash, do
I need to fill out this form? Does your competitor require the
same information? If I provide my credit card number, will you
give me yours?
I consider such questions to be basic training for the cranky old
lady in Reeboks I fully intend to become. Our society needs
nothing so much as a vast hord of cranky people whose standard
response to impertinent inquiry is, "mind your own damned
business!"