Silicon Sentinels
Written by Owen Fitzgerald-Diaz. Edited by Swasti Jain.

I am followed everywhere I go.
I don’t live in a police state. There are no spies or criminals or stalkers out to get me. I just have a phone. My location is constantly shared by various apps, tagged in posts on social media, and beamed up to satellites 24/7, every day of the year.
I’m almost never troubled by the digital spy that lives in my pocket.
On the contrary, I find the ways it tracks my every move quite helpful, and even allows it more access into my life. With the tap of a finger, I can let my parents or friends know where I am, or tag posts to show off whatever interesting place I want to tell the world about, or navigate streets I’ve never seen before.
This unsleeping, all-seeing spy has also managed to ingratiate itself into my life by enabling me take advantage of its expert tracking skills, rather than relying on unfamiliar people or confusing local maps, along with a whole host of other abilities that I now can’t seem to go without.
Its usefulness to me and those around me has led me to accept it simply as a fact of life. I can’t just go somewhere without my phone. How will I get around? How will I communicate?
My phone has become indispensable. But I, like millions of other people, almost never give any thought to the troubling abilities it possesses. I don’t spend much time thinking about the fact that anyone with a bit of spare time could probably put together some disturbingly accurate information about where I am at any given moment and how I spend my time.
The issue of the “invisible spy” isn’t just about my phone’s location services, however.
Even if my phone weren’t tracking my location, countless pieces of data are floating around on various Internet sites about me — where I go to school, the team I play on, places I’ve visited, names of family members — that can be easily dug up.

