The rise of little brother in the digital age

Many of us are aware that being watched is no longer an Orwellian paranoia, but a contract we’re signed into when using and consenting to digital technology. The transformation of digital technology has been widely recognised for its ability to track, document and observe trends. But what this means for us collectively is that surveillance methods are routinely seized and weaponised by those in power.

The uses of surveillance technology are spreading far and wide, from being introduced in schools without parents’ knowledge to monitor pupils and families to spying on vulnerable people in NHS mental health wards around the clock. Even group chats are being used to punish and prosecute young people. But it’s not only coming from above.

In the digital age we have all become immersed into the society of the spectacle and mutual surveillance is higher than ever. From filming strangers becoming completely normalised to everyone you know having a Ring doorbell – we have all become little brothers, and smartphones are the all seeing eye.

Content over everything

I’ve always felt uneasy about people being filmed in public without their knowledge. So much of the content we see online now comes from this act of mutual surveillance. Whilst it can be amusing, or can capture the organic nature of many of our interactions, it can easily slip into being invasive, creepy or outright humiliating.

In The Guardian, author and journalist Jason Okundaye writes about his experience of being filmed on the tube by a stranger whilst dancing on his way to a gay club, and the paranoia that followed him for months afterwards anytime he danced. On the right to privacy in public, and how our digital culture motivates us to violate that privacy for our own perks, he writes: “It’s an unspoken code that is evaporating at a time where there are rewards to be gained by selling out another person’s privacy, making them go viral.” 

Today, our vulnerable moments remaining private is up to the discretion of strangers. Public figures are even more at risk of this type of peer surveillance. You’ve likely seen the photo of Diane Abbott’s “mojito moment”, wherein the MP was photographed drinking an M&S tinny on the tube; or the leaked video of Finland’s Prime Minister Sanna Marin partying with friends. X Both resulted in the politicians being forced to publicly apologise, and whilst Abbott received public support, multiple complaints to the parliamentary ombudsman in Finland led to an official inquiry into misconduct for Marin (which was later dropped).

The modern culture of ‘exposing’ and resultedly ‘cancelling’ (or attempting to) is one wherein we are constantly under the threat of being caught in a vulnerable moment, where we aren’t performing or posing, but are existing in our raw and human state.

This can become even more problematic when those being filmed are vulnerable. I’ve seen countless videos of homeless people, people clearly under the influence or very visibly having a mental health episode, all for the sake of ‘content’. Reminiscent of the mediaeval witch trials, where people gathered around the stake to watch local women burn whilst they were publicly humiliated for their supposed crimes, now digital crowds flock to watch videos of people at their most vulnerable, and taunt them in the comments and replies.

Little Big Brother

Even the rise of “Karen TikToks”, a hashtag which now has over 56 billion views on the app, where racist white women are filmed and exposed, is evidence of the central role that peer to peer surveillance has come to play in how we behave towards each other. Undeniably, this can be useful to document harm that has historically gone ignored and not taken seriously because of the privilege of the perpetrator. 

But arguably, the trend has entrenched our embrace of surveillance culture even further, and platforms incentivise us with the traction these digital trauma dumps can bring. This links back to the way that our platforms fuel outrage and tap into our extreme emotional responses, because many of us know the viral potential that these interactions have.

It’s worth asking ourselves before filming someone for the sake of content – unless we are at risk of harm and are documenting evidence of abuse – how would we feel if we were the person being filmed. The fleeting nature of content and virality can trick us into thinking this video will all be forgotten within a day, and maybe for the watcher, but for the watched, this becomes inscribed into their digital footprint forever. 

Our cultural norms have shifted, making peer to peer surveillance more acceptable, whilst the tech companies give us tools that make it ever so convenient to spy on our own communities. As journalist Kashmir Hill writes in Your Face Belongs To Us, it’s no longer just Big Brother that of governments and police departments – but our surveillance infrastructure has trickled down to Little Brother too – neighbours, ex-partners, strangers. 

I spoke to Madeleine Stone from anti-surveillance organisation Big Brother Watch. She told me about a search engine tool that enables anyone to search for a person using a photo of them and retrieve personal details about them and monitor their online presence. Even personal details like where they work and live can be seized at the click of a button.

Resisting the surveillance tech tidal wave

As individuals, we now have adopted these surveillance practices into our own communities and daily lives at speed. But instead of rushing to adopt these tools in the interests of convenience, we should pause, and consider the impact on our privacy. It’s become the norm to view technology as the solution to society’s problems, be it crime, harassment, racism or gender-based violence.

But more often than not, these tools do not protect us, they only make our institutions less inclined to do so. If we are all individuals with the capacity to defend ourselves, why do we need governments, schools, social services, workplaces or each other to protect us? By depending on these tools, there is an illusion of individualism that masks our deeply interconnected nature and risks the safeguards we’ve worked to establish collapsing in on themselves.

When I ask Madeleine what the solution to the increasingly hostile surveillance culture we have in the UK, she tells me of the importance of democratic engagement and emailing your representatives to express what you think about the use of these tools because they do listen, even if we don’t realise it. “Police and some politicians are already peddling the idea that because facial recognition is already here, it’s too late to get rid of it. But it’s not too late because nothing’s ever too late in a democracy,” she tells me. 

This action is even more vital given research by Privacy International that 70% of MPs don’t know if facial recognition technology is being used in their constituency, but over a third believe it threatens human rights. This offers us an opportunity to act, to demand that our MPs advocate for our privacy rights and ensure that we get these oppressive tools off our streets. 

When we rush to adopt the tools being seized by those in power, we risk entrenching surveillance culture further, and justifying its expansion. Technologies such as live facial recognition are being rolled out by police whilst we surveil each other through screens and cameras, often sharing peoples’ faces and information without their knowledge or consent. 

What this means is we risk changing social norms before fully asking ourselves what the impact of that will be. Instead, surveillance culture is something we need to actively challenge and unlearn, if we are to protect both our freedoms and privacy, but also our interpersonal relationships.

Rejecting the digital technologies that now rule our world can seem daunting but it is possible. Joining organisations like Big Brother Watch and Open Rights Group in their fight for our right to privacy is a great first step. Challenging the culture of peer surveillance when you see it in action, be it stopping a friend from filming a stranger, or persuading your parents to ditch the Ring doorbell. All of these are pivotal in rejecting the surveillance culture that has wrapped us in its grasp, and that tech companies are cashing in on.