Now that we're well into the age of the Internet, here's a piece of advice: Before doing anything, consider how it will be perceived if the action was shouted from the mountaintop.
Or tweeted.
Or possibly hacked by cyber-criminals and posted for the entire world to see.
In 2014, there are no permanent secrets shared among friends, and what used to be public information if you went down to the county courthouse might now become the subject of its own website.
Consider what was revealed last week about the supposedly private text messaging app called SnapChat. The service/app became popular because it allows a user to send photos with messages, but with a viewing time limit after which the images self-destruct. Imagine what images people sent to boyfriends, girlfriends, wives, husbands and the like once they thought they were "secure."
Sounds safe, right? Except late last week, we learned a third-party application some SnapChat users downloaded to retain some of their SnapChat images had been hacked. Reports said thousands of images were accessed and were likely to end up posted online. It's the online equivelant of a peeping tom, except the whole world has the opportunity to view what had been sent as private images.
Imagine having a private, intimate image shared with the world.
From a political perspective, the Internet age is snaring some big fish, too. Just last week, a political blogger in central Arkansas unearthed an old email by Leslie Rutledge, the GOP candidate for attorney general. The email contained a narrative filled with racially offensive stereotyping. Rutledge defended herself by saying it was narrative she forwarded during her time in the Department of Human Services. The original author even stepped forward to accept responsibility. Still, electronic communication again proved damaging. Had she ever considered the email would be publicly revealed, Rutledge would have never included it in her own communications.
In Fayetteville, the people who signed a petition to force an election on Ordinance 119, the recently adopted civil rights administrator legislation, got a rude awakening to the transparency of the Internet. Once the city clerk found their petition drive collected enough signatures to put the question on the ballot, advocates for the law posted a list of everyone who signed it on the Internet, under the question "did they sign?"
The implication was obvious: If you signed, you were a bigot who favored discrimination. Of course, the only accurate comment anyone can make about the signers is they favored an election rather than leaving such a significant law to the City Council.
Some signers were, no doubt, uncomfortable. Although advocates for the ordinance presented a pitch for equality, fairness and the idea all people should be judged by the content of their character, this action judged all the signers as enemies of equality.
Could there be other reasons? Indeed, one could assert the list of signers include some whose daily lives are testaments to equal treatment, to civil rights, to the belief that all people should be treated fairly, but that other reasons might exist for wanting Fayetteville residents to vote. For example, the City Council bypassed all its usually processes for developing ordinances and fast-tracked this measure, skipping the process usually respected for its ability to draft the kind of legislation that's suited to the community. Others might feel municipal government isn't the place for such a law, although they would support it at the national or state levels.
But the Internet Age gave advocates for the law an easy, low-cost way to cast signers as the villians and transmit their names, addresses and birth dates for all to see.
The Ordinance 119 petition is a public document, so nobody can assert an expectation of privacy. Still, I bet most people didn't expect to see their personal information broadcast so freely.
In a way, the Internet Age has returned us to a small-town atmosphere where everyone knows everyone else's business, but without the civilizing constraints of actual neighborliness. One has to wonder where all this will take us.
What if abortion protesters start posting pictures of people who enter and exit clinics? That would be appalling.
What if someone on a morality crusade decided to post the license plates of cars at the local strip joint?
Today, we're more exposed than ever, in both the private and public realms. Transparency is a vital tool in the effort to monitor government power, but things get a little less comfortable when it's aimed squarely at the lives of private citizens.
GREG HARTON IS OPINION PAGE EDITOR FOR NWA MEDIA.
Commentary on 10/13/2014