Coming of age in the social media era already presents a bevy of issues based on the bits of ourselves we share willingly. Our surveillance culture is making it worse.
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“MASS SURVEILLANCE PREDATOR GLASSES”
There it was, plastered in bold, white letters on a poster on 14th Street, a particularly buzzy strip in Washington, DC, lined with bars, clubs and a Jeni’s Ice Creams blissfully opened until 1 a.m. on weekends.
Despite its satire, the spoof advertisement shows the reality of Ray-Ban Meta artificial intelligence glasses as a dangerous tool of our growing surveillance state by allowing wearers to slyly record anything – and anyone – they see. This poster stopped me in my tracks because its nihilism – or existentialism, even – belies a sense of cool.
Lifted from an actual Meta campaign, the poster’s image includes a close-up of Kylie Jenner’s face, adorned with said Ray-Ban Meta shades, her mouth agape, revealing star stickers stuck to her tongue. Her blacked-out sunglasses are sleek and trendy among stylish youth, and the tongue stickers resemble pimple patches that have become a sort of face accessory for that same demographic.
Perhaps the “chic-est” thing about this image is its covert message: Jenner’s eyes may be unseen, but she’s still surveilling you.
It’s the appeal to cool that makes this image so unnerving. The Meta glasses aren’t being depicted as a ground-breaking technology, but another tech-y accessory for the masses – the youths, in particular.
Surveillance culture may have been incited by Big Tech, but it is proliferated by us. This ad isn’t selling anything new; it’s reflecting a culture that already exists. We’ve become our own Big Brother.
Flock cameras, Ring doorbells, TikTok videos: Someone is always recording
When I looked to the right of the poster, I saw a group of boys drunkenly zigzagging down the sidewalk, trying not to trip over themselves. Earlier that night, a girl was throwing up on the street, her friend holding back her hair. Someone wearing a pair of Meta glasses could unknowingly record these intimate, embarrassing moments and post them online for the world to see.
It’s that possibility – of having an ephemeral moment thrust into internet infamy without consent – that makes a culture of surveillance so disturbing in the digital age.
It’s not just glasses with hidden cameras, either.
Flock Safety has employed automatic license plate readers in cities across the country, with few regulations or oversight on how the data can be used. These cameras have already been used by Immigration and Customs Enforcement to go after immigrants without warrants.
Amazon’s Ring “smart” doorbell cameras have turned neighbors into cops by allowing law enforcement to access biometric identification from consumer devices (despite advertising this software as an altruistic lost dog finder).
As I, and many other 20-somethings, poured in and out of various bars and clubs, I found myself struggling to navigate this Orwellian reality. I peered inquisitively at anyone with a suspicious pair of glasses. I obscured my face when I thought I was in the background of someone’s video. Even when there was no camera visible, I made sure to look presentable enough not to be embarrassed if pictures and videos of me ended up online anyway.
Coming of age in the social media era already presents a bevy of issues based on the bits of ourselves we share willingly: constant comparison with unrealistic standards, an algorithm that puts us in self-destructive echo chambers and limits our worldview, a culture of oversharing that opens users to bullying and harassment.
Anyone with an unhealthy screen time knows how largely innocuous moments, often recorded and posted without the depicted party’s consent, become fodder for the infinite discourse wheel. An entire person is flattened into a clip and picked apart by a punitive and carceral internet that hides its parasocial tendencies behind altruism.
Dance like everyone is watching – because they are
Watching this happen repeatedly to young people is distressing as a young person myself. It’s scary to think that your personhood can be stripped during a volatile period of self-discovery. It’s even scarier to think the internet knows you better than you know yourself.
This perpetual anxiety of unfettered perception affects the way many Gen Zers (those born between 1997 and 2012) move about the world – especially the way we have fun. It’s a common observation that no one dances at clubs or bars anymore, and it’s not implausible to blame this on surveillance culture.
A consequence of our aversion to cringe and formative years spent in social isolation, the possibility of the entire internet seeing a few seconds of “bad” dancing is nightmare fuel. Never mind that getting down and dirty is pretty ugly; such an unaesthetic act doesn’t mesh well with a generation obsessed with nonchalance.
But can we really be blamed? At this point, being reserved in public is an act of self-preservation.
The most plausible way to combat a culture of surveillance – and create spaces where people are free to express themselves without judgment – is to create a culture that ardently rejects it. Singer songwriter Phoebe Bridgers announced that phones will be banned at her upcoming tour. A new club opened across town that also bans phones.
Maybe I’ll find peace there.
Kofi Mframa is a columnist and digital producer for USA TODAY.