Showing posts with label adulthood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adulthood. Show all posts

Saturday, May 15, 2021

Children of the Information Era

[Image of a sign that says 'You must be at least this tall to lose your privacy.']

“Now you see it … Now You don't.”

Probably most people know, because so many web sites ask about it when you register, that there is special protection on the web for US children under the age of 13. Quoting the FTC's explainer page on the Children's Online Privacy Protection Rule ("COPPA"):

“COPPA imposes certain requirements on operators of websites or online services directed to children under 13 years of age, and on operators of other websites or online services that have actual knowledge that they are collecting personal information online from a child under 13 years of age.”

So we in the US have a sort of right to privacy on the web. OK, not a right, exactly, but at least a strong law. But there's just one small hitch: it expires as we get older. What is that about?

Why should it be OK for that right to go away as we get older. Whose interest does that serve? Certainly not mine. What kind of values are encoded here? What message does that send?

I'm sure this was sold to Congress, and then to the American people, under the tried and true “for the children” banner and that lawmakers didn't stop to think very hard about how much many of us adults would have loved to have at least the option of similar protection.

But it was not to be.

Why?

Ethics and Technology

People like me who've watched and rewatched Star Trek for decades are regularly reminded, as one of its common themes, that technology and wisdom need to move hand in hand. When technology gets ahead of wisdom, bad things happen. But Star Trek mostly takes place in the 23rd and 24th centuries.

Ethics has had a very hard time in our 20th and now 21st century technological society. Really there's very little ethics built into anything technological. There's an explanation for that and it comes in two steps.

Early on, technologists anxious to explore a topic insist it would “hold back progress” to weigh them down with ethical concerns, as if the worst thing in the world would be having to think about the impact of technology on society.

Later, if you try to apply ethics to a more mature technology, the punch line of the joke on us is trotted out: It's too late. “It would be disruptive to the market” to impose ethics—now that the market is used to doing to us whatever it's doing that profits someone.

Growing Up in the Information Era

Of course there's another possible explanation for why this privacy “right” goes poof and vanishes at age 13: By that age we have “grown up.”

We'll ignore for the moment that 13 is not the ordinary line between childhood and adulthood. But probably some business somewhere stood to lose too much money if we drew the line between childhood and adulthood in the right place. Though I'm sure the official party line was that kids needed time to swim in the deep end while there were still adults around to help them. Or something like that.

I'm not buying any such sophistry, though.

After all, what is adulthood? Why do we even make a distinction in society between how we treat children and how we treat adults?

Wikipedia suggests this about adulthood:

“In contrast to a ‘minor’, a legal adult is a person who has attained the age of majority and is therefore regarded as independent, self-sufficient, and responsible.”

Implicit in this is the notion that there are people—often but not necessarily parents, but usually at least other adults—training one for this role of independence, of self-sufficiency, of responsibility. And why? Well, because they've been around awhile. They're native guides familiar with how adulthood plays out. They can tell children what to watch out for because they've lived in the adult world for a whlie and have seen the pitfalls.

And that's the problem. This theory might work OK for learning to drive a car. Cars change a little each year, but mostly driving a car is the same today as it was decades ago, hopefully a little safer. Adults know what to teach kids about driving a car because they've done it awhile. They know the landscape.

But the information landscape is just different. You may give up a piece of information, like your location, and think it quite benign. It's never caused you a problem before. But there are people whose job it is to infer new information all the time from old information. That data is a treasure chest for companies to mine, so the implications of giving it away are not known to your parents. They maybe, if they're really paying attention, know what a given piece of information was used for in the past, but every day there are new things being inferred. Not just new ways to track us in the future, but new ways to understand data already obtained.

I'll say it this way to be most clear: There are no adults in the information society. There is no one who can take their lifetime, or even their last 20 years, and tell you what the next 20 years will feel like. Society has always changed from generation to generation, but it's happening faster and faster, to the point that we are really all just children, bumbling our way through the implications of the world that is being re-made before us. There are not a lot of adults with worked experience in the information age they can share with their children, not really. Not in the sense that there are adults who can help kids learn to cook dinner or play a piano or drive.

We are all children in the rapid-paced world of information that dominates today. There are effectively no adults who have lived this life before and are competent to prepare the next generation for that role. The informational life that any previous generation lived is a life that has already vanished by the time the next generation comes along.

The right to informational privacy should not expire as we grow up because there's no sense in which we can usefully reach “informational maturity” until we change the aspect of society in which we're willing to let technology far outpace wisdom, with ethics left far behind, lost in the dust.

Given that we are all really just children in this information era, adulthood not an easily attainable concept, we all deserve the protections that we today afford only to those under age 13. Our right to privacy should not suddenly expire.

Control at some point should pass from parent to child, but it should not just pass to the market. We should demand to hold it ourselves for our entire lifetime.

 


Author's Notes:

If you got value from this post, please “Share” it.

The graphic image was produced using a couple of images I made with abacus.ai using RouteLLM and FLUX 1.1 [pro] Ultra, then post-processed fairly substantially in Gimp.

With apologies to little people, it refers to height rather than age in the image not because I'm confused about the fact that height doesn't always indicate age, but because it is common in theme parks for a sign measuring height to be offered as the criterion, so I thought the graphic would be most familiar. But also, and importantly, the whole point of this article is that it's a completely arbitrary and inappropriate thing that privacy disappears with age, rather than by some other more rational criterion, such as personal choice to either be private or not. Age is a terrible indicator. So, in a sense, the arbitrariness of this choice in the image matches the arbitrariness of the topic. It's my hope that this doesn't offend anyone. Art makes complex choices sometimes.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Intuition and Knowledge

I wrote a post recently, Knowledge and Intuition, in which I created some minor confusion. [Yang and Yin: Intuition and Knowledge] This follow-up post doesn't make any really major new points, it just clarifies my previous intent so that, hopefully, I can build upon it another day.

It's ok to stop reading now if that's not your cup of tea. But if you haven't read the other one, you should read this first and then the other. It will make more sense that way.

My previous remarks were intended not to capture the mechanism of intuition as much as to attach a name to the goals, attitudes, expectations, hopes and even fears we have starting out in life.

And when I speak of children, I mean it in the most general and encompassing sense: people who have not yet been tested by life. People who have lived in the protective shell provided by their parents and society, and who have never had to fend for themselves in the world as it really is, with the responsibilities that society is prepared to place on them as first-class individuals.

For want of a better word, I refer to our starting image of the world as our “intuition.” It is a guided intuition, but it is an intuition nonetheless. Unlike the other animals, nature has equipped our minds to allow some of our intuitions to be downloaded from our parents. But what we teach children about civics is only intuitions compared to the reality of what it is to try to get what you need from a real-world government. What we teach people about having a job (or not having one), or about having a family, is just an intuition compared to the experience of actually doing. For purposes of this discussion, that quality which cannot be downloaded in advance and which is the tangible texture of life played out, I call “knowledge.”

Those words have other meanings in other contexts, and I'm not trying to co-opt or limit their meanings. I'm just trying to establish a window into my mind so you can see how I think about these things using the words I prefer.

And so, having been educated as children in our youth, we develop an expectation of how the world will play out. We imagine what the world will be. We have our intuitions. But the world is not, in fact, what we imagine. It cannot play out simply in the ways we imagine. What we come to know of the world will be at odds with those intuitions.

For some, life is a struggle between people and the world around them. How much can a person affect the world and how much does it affect them. It's easy for knowledge to wear down intuition; it's important to remember to constantly refresh one's intuitions so that we can make the world more like we'd like it to be, not just make ourselves more like the world wants us to be.

I may use these terms again, so I wanted to at least clarify my intent. And it may also make some of my meaning in the original post clearer.


Author's Notes:

If you got value from this post, please “Share” it.

Public domain yin/yang symbol obtained from Wikipedia.
Text and composed artwork copyright © 2009 by Kent M. Pitman.

This post is a sequel to my earlier post:
Knowledge and Intuition

Originally published March 21, 2009 at Open Salon, where I wrote under my own name, Kent Pitman.

Tags (from Open Salon): politics, knowledge, intuition, balance, understanding, contentment, war, peace, hunger, suffering, child, children, adults, adulthood, yin, yang, life, life lesson, philosophy, teacher, student, talk, listen

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Knowledge and Intuition

Note to the Reader: When first published, this article confused some readers by my use of the term “intuition.” I am not attempting here to define any general concept of intuition. Rather, I am noting that knowledge fills a gap that represents a preconception about what we expect to learn, or what we think about the world before we are given more mature or better accepted knowledge. We assume our preconceptions, what I here call “intuitions,” are not as good as the “knowledge” that seeks the replace them, but the reality is occasionally more complex. This article is about that surprise complexity.

If this post oversimplifies things, that's probably good. It will make my point more clear. The point is not technical anyway, it is intuitional. It can only be injured by adding technical clarity.

[Yin and Yang: Knowledge and Intuition]

Knowledge and intuition are Yin and Yang, complementary opposites.

We begin our lives with intuitions about what we expect the world to be. Through our growth, we acquire knowledge. Often at the expense of our early intuitions. We spend a lot of our time learning why the world cannot be what we hoped it would be.

It is the rare person who succeeds in acquiring knowledge without losing his vision of why he wanted that knowledge, of what justified the expense of acquiring that knowledge.

Our early instruction of children emphasizes simple truths, sometimes oversimplifying, but offering echos of what we wish the world really were. Or sometimes even what we used to wish what the world was before we forgot that wishes were of value.

Children know how they want the world. They want it free of guns, of violence, of war. They want no one denied health care or left starving.

We explain why these are not goals, why they never could be. Soon enough, they forget they even wanted them. Then we smile approvingly and call them adults.

Computer novices ask for computers to be smart. But we explain to them about how to articulate their problems well enough that they can Google for workarounds. Soon enough, they are so proud of their own ability to overcome computer stupidity they've forgotten it would be better if they didn't have to. Then we smile again approvingly and call them computer literate.

Knowledge wears down intuition.

We bring children into the world in part to remind ourselves as a society of what we started out to be. Not having yet become jaded, they ask anew the hard questions we'd forgotten we used to ask. All too quickly, the reflexive temptation is to answer them, rather than to hear their inquiries as an opportunity for reflection: Are we going in the direction we set out to? Are we sure there was no other way?

They often try to find that better way. Sometimes they learn, as we did, that it's elusive. But sometimes they do better than those that came before them. In many ways, the virtue is in the trying.

If you're an expert who speaks routinely with others who know less about your area of expertise, always remember that they may have something that you may have lost—that in offering your knowledge, perhaps, if you also listen, you'll be lucky enough to recover some of the intuition you lost in acquiring that knowledge.


Author's Notes:

If you got value from this post, please “Share” it.

There is a sequel to this point, Intuition and Knowledge, which adds some clarifications and additional thoughts.

Public domain yin/yang symbol obtained from Wikipedia.
Text and composed artwork copyright © 2009 by Kent M. Pitman.

Originally published March 19, 2009 at Open Salon, where I wrote under my own name, Kent Pitman.

Tags (from Open Salon): politics, knowledge, intuition, balance, understanding, contentment, war, peace, hunger, suffering, child, children, adults, adulthood, yin, yang, life, life lesson, philosophy, teacher, student, talk, listen