Life only scrolls in one direction, which is the direction of time, and no matter how far we might manage to go, that invisible wall will always be just behind us, cutting us off from the past, compelling us on into the unknown.

The generations to come would have to get used to a world in which surveillance wasn`t something occasional and directed in legally justified circumstances, but a constant and indiscriminate presence: the ear that always hears, the eye that always sees, a memory that is sleepless and permanent.

What makes a life? More than what we say; more, even, than what we do. A life is also what we love, and what we belive in. For me, what I love and belive in the most is connection, human connection, and the technologies by which that is achieved. Those technologies include books, of course. But for my generation, connection has largely meant the Internet.

If most of what people wanted to do online was to be abele to tell their family, friends, and strangers what tjhey were up tp, ant to be told what their family, friends, and strangers were up to in return, then all companies had to do was figure out how to put themselves in the middle of those social exchanges and turn them into profit. This was the beginning of surveillance capitalism, and the end of the Internet as I knew it.

The internet has become almost as integral to our lives as the air through which som many of its communications travel.

We are the first people in the history of the planet for whom this is true, the first people to be burdened whith data immortality, the fact that our collected records, might have an eternalexistence. This is why we have a special duty. We must ensure that these records of our pasts cant`t be turned against us, or turned against our children.