An interviewer once asked what the most interesting anecdotes and trends were that we’d uncovered with the data mining and user profiling system we had created. Fortunately, despite the meager amount of data we had at that time, there was still a tremendous amount of interesting material to draw upon. The discoveries about users and their online habits were always entertaining, sometimes awe-inspiring, and occasionally horrifying. Additionally, the process to uncover the findings was often illuminating in itself: equal parts technology, intuition, and black magic. There was certainly plenty of fodder for discussion. The interview, to this point, was going well.
The follow-up question by the same interviewer was what would happen if all of this information about our users was accidentally released and fell into the wrong hands? Silence. It was early in the Internet years, and everything was moving too fast—who had time to think about such things?
Almost a decade later, we find ourselves asking the same questions, still looking for answers. Now, companies routinely watch and record our actions—while in grocery stores, online, or in shopping malls with our families. We trust these companies because they provide safety and convenience, and to not trust them would require too much effort. But the seemingly inconsequential bits of information we so readily surrender every day can be meticulously pieced together into a rich mosaic that reveals more about our habits, goals, and secret desires than we would dare share with even our closest friends.
In a post-9/11 world, perhaps it is not surprising that we are willing to reconsider how much privacy we are willing to forgo. It is important to remind ourselves that the technology, policies, and sheer enormity of the amount of personal data amassed about all of us is new. It’s breathtaking. It’s unexpected. All of us, those who are being watched and those who are watching us, are, quite literally, in uncharted territory. To address this, some organizations have adopted or created policies that mandate how all of this new sensitive information should be handled and who should be granted access to the information. But few organizations regulate how and what information will be merged together, what disparate bits of our lives will be combined to reveal the ever-finer details of who we are. Such decisions are often left to young, inexperienced employees. In the end, our faith must reside in each of the individuals that comprise the companies we implicitly trust—we must believe they will have the wisdom and courage to make the right decisions about topics that did not exist just a few years ago.
The Silicon Jungle examines what happens when the brilliance, immaturity, and unbridled enthusiasm of an intern, Stephen, is mixed with unfettered access to people’s most private thoughts and actions. Stephen’s blind idealism and overwhelming desire to impress render him oblivious to the severe consequences of his actions and make him an easy mark for those willing to exploit his naiveté. The setting, a ubiquitous Internet company located in Silicon Valley, is chosen not only for the steady stream of innovative technology that consistently emanates from the area, but also for the prevalent maniacal pursuit of scientific immortality, “the next big thing,” and, of course, unmatched material excesses.
A question that I am often asked is how much of this book is real. This book is a work of fiction. The events are fictional. The technology and science described are based in reality. The people are fictional. Their temptations are not. The justifications offered for the intrusions on people’s privacy are fictional. The ability, brains, and computational power to do so are not. Importantly, as to whether the companies described are real and whether any single company holds enough data to do all that is described in this book, this I can answer definitively: The companies are not real. As far as I know, no single company holds all of the data described herein.
Like the meatpacking industry in Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle, a new, rapidly burgeoning industry is laid open for your investigation. For anyone willing to peek behind the sleek streamlined services and offerings we take for granted on the Internet, a profound conflict will be uncovered between the intellect of the scientists and their latest inventions, and the very human limitations and frailties of the people who handle, consume, and trust the technology daily. I hope you will find the science and the possible discoveries truly exciting—the insights unearthed by large-scale data mining initiatives provide an understanding into individuals and groups of people that, prior to the last few years, was impossible. How this newfound ability is used is where trouble can begin.
Perhaps all of this leads us to a conclusion that we already intrinsically know: It’s not technology or a newfound ability that should be labeled “good” or “bad,” it’s what we choose to do with that ability. Science and technology innovation will, and absolutely must, progress. It is up to the creators of new technologies to open our eyes to not only the mechanics of what can be done and how to do it, but also the limitations and dangers, as well as the beauty and excitement, of their creations.
I have encountered few places in the world that are using technology more effectively, directly, and for a more worthy cause than the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children (NCMEC). Their efforts to rescue children and stop the spread of violent and hateful images exploiting children are exemplary. I am humbled and amazed at the work they do. For this reason, I am proud to support NCMEC and other non-profit organizations that espouse the use of technology to explicitly make the world a better place.
Peace,
Shumeet Baluja, Ph.D.
P.S. A note to my former interns: No, this book is not about you.