My thighs stick to the cold leather booth as I stand up and reach out to receive the final birthday gift of the night. My mind clouds with a million possibilities of what canbe hidden beneath the sparkly tissue paper jetting out of the baby blue bag. I scan the table to the right of my dessert plate to remind myself of the gifts I havealready received and notice a number of items are still missing from my wish list. I know it’s not a puppy given the impossible living conditions inside the wrapping. I’ve already opened the bag containing new sweaters and pants;clothing is a birthday ritual in my family, being both an enjoyable “surprise” and a response to a legitimate need. As a 13- (now 14)-year-old tends,I grow out of my jeans quickly and am subject to the tantalizing nickname “high waters” if I don’t replenish my pant collection. I’ve also collected some additional film cartridges for my Polaroid camera, a brand-new Scrabble game, a storage case full of water color paints, and a leather skin notebook.

For a moment, I am truly puzzled. All that is left unaccounted for are the “forbidden” items on this year's list: makeup products, a pet, a jet ski (I know, this one is pushing it), and a smartphone. I accept defeat. It. Must. Be. Underwear. But could my mother really be that cruel? I look up from my thoughts and notice the sly smile that my father shoots to my mother before she pulls out her camera phone and proceeds to blind me with the glare of her flash. “Go ahead, Kaylee!” My parents’ excitement raises a possibility that I have yet to consider... but it couldn’t be… an actual smartphone?

The idea is thrilling. The anticipation is simply too great for me to resist a moment longer. Sparkly tissue paper soars and my eyes widen; I am staring down at a fourth generation iPhone sitting prettily in its pristine packaging. I cannot believe it. My mother, who is convinced that there is spyware installed in anything with a screen, has given me my very own smartphone. “Same rules apply as your flip phone, you know,” she teases from behind the camera, “no texting boys, no phone calls after 9, and absolutely no contact with anyone that you don’t know personally.”

My mother’s concerns were valid, but there was also a hint of irony embedded in her contingency. Obviously, I wouldn’t send information to a total stranger, but the integration of technology into daily life might compel me to share sensitive details of my daily endeavors. The integration of technology into our lives has accelerated so much in the last four years. Rarely, it seems, do my friends think twice when posting a picture of their baby cousin flashing his silly face or geotagging an artsy snapshot of their morning coffee, but these are the minor rejections of user privacy that social media facilitates. My newfound accessibility to social media may also foster further disclosure of my personal information—evident in the trend set by the ever-increasing population of social media influencers towards a glamorized, publicized lifestyle. The income of an influencer is contingent on the interactive nature of their profiles; they partner with companies and provide testimonies regarding their experience with various products, they document their whereabouts through vlogs and picture posts, and they introduce their inner circle of friends and family who, in return, create a following of their own. Their goal is to attract internet strangers, encourage them to openly stalk them, and hope that advertisers see the popularity of their page as an opportunity to increase sales.

For a short time, the appeal of the influencer lifestyle did pressure me and my peers. We would compete in imitating theinfluencers’ dangerous behaviors. Shortly after setting up my iPhone, I was installing the Instagram application and fine tuningmy profile by following as many people as I thought would return the favor. I was in compliance with my mother’s insistence that I keptmy account on the private setting, so I wouldn’t be brutally attacked by a serial killer. However, a private account does not forbid unsafe contact from online predators when a naïve 14-year-old girl is desperate for 3 million followers, or at least for more followers than her classmates have. When I finally internalized the threat I was inviting (okay, I'll never have as many followers as Beyoncé), I realized the contradiction between popular media and its supposed privacy protection. But isn’t it ironic that no one is concerned with the safety of social media influencers or YouTubers when their actual job is to attract internet stalkers? Are we are too busy entertaining their voluntary relinquishment of privacy to notice?

Why isn’t it alarming when a YouTuber posts their exact bedtime routine for their fans to obsess over? And more importantly, why does the NSA receive so much backlash forits rare intrusions into citizens’ private lives to preserve America’s safety when so many of us religiously check up on the whereabouts of our idols? The answer: the media is hypocritical in its implications of a privacy policy. One moment, I see news anchors scrambling to demand social reform against the intrusive nature of government privacy policy in terms of tapping into phone calls or flagging emails. In the next moment, my Snapchat is plastered with the latest “Kardashian scandal” gossip claiming to be “too hot to miss.” The media holds its “high class citizens” to an entirely different standard than its mainstream audience: simultaneously demanding fundamental privacy protection for “everyone” and intruding on the privacy of the celebrities or politicians accused of engaging in risqué activities or voicing unfavored opinions.

Similarly, the privacy protection precautions taken in my household were tainted with pure irony. I wasn’t allowed to have a public account, but I was allowed to follow public accounts and allow strangers to follow my “private” account with the simple tap of the screen. I could not list my date of birth or address, but I was allowed to post pictures in my class color gear outside of my local high school’s front gate.

The paradox of a simultaneous obsession with and rejection of privacy is an infectious disease. The strain is sometimes limited to a household such as my own but is derived from the media’s implications of privacy relevant to whatever “social issue” is at hand; this may be a scandalous photo leaked of a popular icon or a Twitter rumor epidemic regarding the installation of spyware into DVD players. Once subject to the application of privacy in whatever context presents itself, we are exposed to the “viral illness”; it is up to our cognitive immune system to withstand the contradictory nature of the media. Those who close their minds to other perspectives are likely to become ill, while those who are cognitively aware of the media’s role in fueling the issue are typically immune to the sway of the media. Thus, as the wellness of each individual may fluctuate with the wellness of society as a whole, the strain must be contained before it infects an entire culture and results in the casualty of credibility.

 
One common justification of this oxymoronic perspective I have encountered—and admittedly considered—merits the invasion of the privacy of individuals who chooseto relinquish it for the sake of fame or power. This may include politicians or aspiring celebrities, social activists, or influencers. The argument seems relevant in that these individuals do seem to welcome the spotlight, and the intrusion of privacy by the masses seems to follow from their pursuit of stardom. However, the argument would suggest that those who do not intentionally attract attention to themselves are sometimes unjustly subject to the government’s intrusion of privacy. This may be illustrated when the NSA reviews flagged emails or investigates through tapping into phone calls. However, I would argue that these two exceptions of privacy cannot be directly compared because of the disconnect in the motivation behind them. In the case of the NSA the intrusion of privacy is merited, despite being uninvited, because the goal is usually to better ensure the safety of apeople. In the case of the social media, all that is at stake is entertainment for the masses, and yet the safety of that individual is compromised without question. If the privacy of the few is voluntarily sacrificed in order to provide entertainment for the many, then why can’t the privacy of the few be involuntarily sacrificed if it can improve the safety of the many?

Even if the precautions taken by the NSA are not justified, as they occasionally intrude on the privacy of involuntary subjects, it would still be true that entertainment stars are guilty of the same offense.The family and inner circle of celebrities do not always invite attention, and cannot always consent to sacrificing their information,yet the lifestyle of celebrity to whom they are related still compromises their privacy as well. Thus, if the protection of privacy to those who do not voluntarily relinquish it should be preserved, then it must be universally applied.