I was in the
library looking something up in books – a task which, tiresome at best, was
made more difficult by the fact that the required volumes were on the bottom
shelf, necessitating much uncomfortable physical contortion. It was then, with one
hand steadying me and the other holding my spectacles in position, I thought “Those
internet search engines are jolly useful: speedy, convenient, efficient".
And I am impressed by the way that they remember my needs
- as recently when I had to buy a new washing machine: each time I returned to
my online search, adverts were displayed offering helpful suggestions as to
which brand I should buy. (The only part they need to sort out is adding an “I
bought one already” button so it knows when to stop. Okay, the internet is
work-in-progress.)
Some people,
however, would say that search engines are too
useful, like the man who has just persuaded the European Court of Justice to
rule that Google does not have the right to link to legitimately published
material relating to him. Lest we confuse this case with the argument concerning
privacy, it should be noted that his motive was actually the deliberate burial
of facts he would rather not be known in case they tarnish his reputation. This
is a very slippery slope: by seeking to control public access to information -
not gossip - the plaintiff has sided with all of history’s tyrannical dictators.
Even on a less dramatic scale there is cause for concern: the floodgates have
thus been opened (in Europe) for a deluge of demands that Google should remove
links to legitimately published information so that individuals might polish up
their personal histories and present incomplete accounts, deliberately giving
false impressions.
But aren't all impressions false, to some extent? It's notoriously difficult to get an
objective account of history in the best of circumstances: not only is there
the ancient precedent whereby the story gets written by the victor, but there
is also the fact that two people who were present at the same event are
unlikely to give exactly the same account of it - our memories tend to be affected
by circumstances particular to ourselves. The best we can do is marshal as many
facts as possible that may contribute to a balanced historical view.
And while we
might all want the spotlight of publicity trained away from our misdeeds, this
is neither feasible nor desirable. On the first count there is a strong
likelihood that "the truth will out" and that we will be made to look
foolish in having attempted concealment and be obliged to pay penalties for our
transgressions. On the second count,
shouldn't we always strive to behave ourselves in any case? (Even Google knows
that we shouldn't be evil). One of the ways in which we manage to stick to the
straight-and-narrow is by taking notice of peer pressure. We tend to behave ourselves
if the rest of the clan is watching and, with the internet creating the biggest
clan ever, there may be a chance that it will eventually have a civilising
effect on those who tend to be un-civil. The ECJ
judgement against Google potentially reduces the chance of this happening: by
confusing the right to privacy with the need for freedom of information, the
judges have made it just a little more difficult to discover facts which might
be useful to us - and to themselves.
Optimistically,
search engines could be a tool for facilitating justice, dishing the dirt on
those who seek to escape their just deserts. On the other hand they may intrude
a little too far, with damaging consequences: my image, for example, could be
tarnished if it became known that my search results for a washing machine were
sorted “cheapest first”.
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