Guilty as Charged

I think it is time that I copped to a few things that I am not necessarily proud of. First on my mind is the issue of privacy. Considering I recently wrote an article on this topic, and many of you made comments, I realized that in a lot of respects, I have fallen right in line with the agenda’s intention. I have, until now, excused my “openness to my private life” with the fact that I am a psychotherapist. It is second nature for me to ask my clients the most private of private questions about their personal lives. Although psychotherapists are trained to limit their own personal disclosure, I have found it equally easy for me to divulge rather private things about myself to my clients if it seems appropriate. Even here in this substack, I release lots of rather private things to as many strangers out there willing to read my blatherings.

I suppose any writer is subject to this behaviour, but I think since private things are today tossed around so indiscriminately, thanks to the earnest efforts of the agenda to destroy personal privacy, I am beginning to become desensitized to it all.

I recall being at the bank recently attempting to turn four 50-dollar bills into two 100-dollar bills—a simple enough transaction at a bank. You would think that process would be a no-brainer. But no, not in today’s Gestapo environment. “Did you get these bills from another bank?” the teller asked. “What?” I responded, I honestly thought I misunderstood her. “Where did you get this money?” she reiterated. With my recently found chutzpah (since Covid), I retorted, “Why is that any business of yours?” She glared at me with the authority of someone who literally had complete control of all of the money I had.

I backed off a bit, “I mean, why is that important to know?” I rephrased my question. She replied, “We need to know where this cash comes from, it’s a rule.” I said, “It comes from my pocket, I guess. It is money that I have at home I just keep as cash, don’t worry, I’ve paid my portion to King and Country.” Kindly, she let it go, “I am just going to put down you got it from another bank,” she said. That seemed odd to me on several counts, why did she have to “put it down” at all? And why was it ok if it came from another bank, and not from under my mattress at home?

This issue is illustrative of several rather disturbing state of affairs, but I will stick with the privacy angle due to the topic of this article. More pointedly, my guilt. I gave in. Where else do I give in to casual authority? Everywhere, of course. In the bank, in the grocery store, at the US/Canadian border, at the doctor’s office. Oh, that’s a good one, the doctor’s office!

I understand that a doctor has to know certain very personal things about their patients, but the casual way they go about procuring this information is a bit unnecessary. There seems to be an arrogance about it these days, like you are some sort of noob if you are a bit resistant when they probe into your secret sanctuaries. There is also way too much casualness when a drug is prescribed—no one asks if you are ok with taking some strange new pharmaceutical concoction. I refused statins the last time I visited my MD and he looked at me like I was some sort of alien life form. “What??” he said, “It isn’t very expensive”—like expense would be the only reason I would not want to take such a dangerous drug.

I didn’t back off on that one, so I don’t have to confess my sheepishness rules my behaviour when it comes to most drugs. But I am still guilty of going along for the most part . . . with most everything.

Of course, unless we want to spend the rest of our lives behind bars, there are certain things we have to conform to. Border crossings are one such thing. Sure, I could be obstinate and annoying when talking to the uniformed officer in the little booth when crossing into the US from Canada, but all that would get me is a “Drive to the side, sir, they will want to see you in that building over there for questioning.” I am in a hurry, of course, so it is all, “Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir,” from me. These guys and gals are just itching to wave you on to the next checkpoint rather than wave you on freely into the most precious of all countries, the US of A.

One time one of these dudes, with 8-inch white on black letters emblazoned across his chest, POLICE, started to ask me what my father did in the military (he questioned my birthplace of Agana, Guam, and I told him my dad was in the Navy). “What wars did he fight in,” he said. This took me by surprise because it seemed like a small-talk sort of question. But I quickly realized it wasn’t but was actually part of the identity interrogation. “World War II, Korea, and Vietnam,” I quickly answered. Later I wondered if I would have gotten across the border if I had instead said, “What’s it to ‘ya, copper?” (well, I would not have said it like that, but something similar with the same intent). I gave in.

Was it any of this guy’s business to know what my dad did in the service? I suppose that is a debatable point. What is not debatable is that we are all subjected to prying into our personal, and private, affairs much more readily than is comfortable. I would say this has built up over time, and that there was a time when Americans (and maybe Canadians) had more assumed privacy. I think back to the McCarthy era in the 1950s when Americans attended Communist Party meetings, held American Communist Party membership cards, and spoke without fear about their association with ideas and political concepts which were considered contrary to the prevailing government system.

It was their right as Americans to do so. But it was also their right to keep their private lives private if they chose. McCarthy changed all that. People were persecuted for peaceful association with certain organizations. And it was expected that they reveal such associations although they were private.

We give in to nearly any request for information, casual or not. Birthdates, addresses, spouse’s name, children and their names, jobs we’ve had, organizations we now or ever have been associated with. All this is given freely without much thought at all. Soon we will be expected to publicly reveal nearly every private thing about us, vaccination records, past and present diseases, and complete medical, sexual, and financial history. We already have given away mountains of information about our personal preferences through social media, our favourite colour, food, car, partner, music . . . everything.

And we, for the most part, don’t give a gnat’s ass of thought to it. Me too. I simply can’t be bothered. It is second nature.

I realized the problem with this when I experienced what I just shared with you at the bank (see, I’ll tell you anything!) How can we ever know if we are giving away information that one day will be used against us? Are we so far away from the authorities persecuting us directly with information they have obtained from us? No one watches movies or documentaries about times gone by, such as the McCarthy Red Scare era, or stories about the Soviet system and its destruction of personal rights and freedoms—and the subsequent disintegration of personal privacy. No one really remembers the atrocities committed regarding freedom and privacy in Hitler’s Germany of the 1930s and 40s.

We give it all away—much like people seem so free to give away the sanctity of their physical bodies sexually. Sadly, it is just another “sign of the times.” It is all intended for the good of the community, to keep us all safe.

Oh well.