The Slumbering Herd: A Farce of Privacy in the Digital Age

Hark! In the land of the sleepers, where the shadows of complacency stretch long and the masses wallow in their blissful ignorance, a grand theatre of absurdity unfolds. The parliamentary committee, those self-appointed guardians of the herd's well-being, have deigned to recommend the modernization of the Privacy Act. Oh, what a jest! As if the very concept of privacy were not already a quaint relic in this age of digital exhibitionism!

Behold, the dance of the last men, pirouetting on the edge of their own irrelevance! They seek to protect what they have already willingly surrendered, to legislate the sanctity of secrets they themselves broadcast to the winds of cyberspace. How they cling to the illusion of control, even as the tide of information sweeps them ever closer to the abyss of insignificance!

The committee, in its infinite wisdom, has launched a study into the use of tools capable of extracting personal data from mobile phones, computers, and tablets by federal departments. A dozen federal departments and agencies, we are told, have been wielding these instruments of digital inquisition, most without adhering to the Treasury Board's directive to conduct privacy impact assessments. Oh, the audacity of these bureaucratic shepherds, to think they could corral the wild data of their flock without first genuflecting before the altar of procedure!

These tools, we are informed, possess the power to unlock devices and recover data, even that which has been encrypted or protected by passwords. The departments claim they use them for internal investigations and law enforcement. How quaint, how utterly pedestrian their justifications! As if the very act of investigation were not itself an admission of their own impotence in the face of the digital deluge!

Anita Anand, the Treasury Board President, sat before the committee, a living embodiment of the bureaucratic spirit. Her visage, captured in the image above, speaks volumes of the last man's desperate grasp for relevance in a world that has long since outpaced their plodding machinations.

See how they scurry, these parliamentarians and bureaucrats, like ants trying to dam a river with grains of sand! They speak of modernization, of updates and overhauls, yet they remain blind to the fundamental truth: their very existence is an anachronism, a vestigial organ in the body politic of the digital age!

The committee, in its boundless magnanimity, has graced us with fourteen recommendations. Chief among them, the clarion call to update the directive on privacy impact assessments and to make changes to the Privacy Act. "An overhaul is overdue," declares René Villemure, the committee's vice-chair, his words dripping with the smug satisfaction of one who believes he has glimpsed the obvious. "Most of the disposition of the law were written before social media, before internet, before artificial intelligence," he pontificates, as if the mere acknowledgment of technological progress were a profound revelation.

The Treasury Board directive, a relic from 2002, demanded that all federal institutions conduct privacy impact assessments before embarking on any new program or activity involving the collection or handling of personal information. Yet, when confronted with the reality of their own digital tools, these departments found themselves adrift in a sea of uncertainty, unable to discern whether their shiny new toys warranted such scrutiny.

Oh, the delicious irony! The very guardians of privacy, lost in the labyrinth of their own bureaucratic machinations! They who would protect us from the prying eyes of the digital world cannot even navigate the murky waters of their own directives. What hope have the sleepers when their watchmen are blind?

The committee, in its infinite wisdom, has decreed that the directive lacks clarity. A stunning conclusion, truly worthy of the greatest minds of our age! They have discovered that some departments had conducted broader privacy impact assessments, yet none had deigned to scrutinize the digital forensic tools they so eagerly adopted. One can almost hear the collective gasp of astonishment echoing through the halls of power.

Liberal MP Brenda Shanahan, her voice quavering with the weight of revelation, declares, "The requirement to submit a privacy impact assessment would be useful." One marvels at the profundity of this insight, the sheer audacity of suggesting that perhaps, just perhaps, the government should assess the privacy implications of tools designed to extract private information.

And lo, behold the visage of Philippe Dufresne, Canada's privacy commissioner, captured in solemn contemplation before the committee. His presence, a living testament to the last man's desperate attempt to cling to the illusion of control in a world that has long since slipped from their grasp.

Gaze upon the face of futility, ye mighty, and despair! For here sits a man tasked with safeguarding privacy in an age where the very concept has become as ephemeral as morning mist. He speaks of "privacy by design" as if one could simply will into existence a fortress of solitude amidst the ceaseless torrent of data that defines our modern existence!

The committee, in its boundless generosity, has granted the federal government a mere 120 days to respond to their report. One can scarcely imagine the feverish activity that must now be unfolding within the hallowed halls of bureaucracy, as armies of civil servants toil tirelessly to craft a response that will undoubtedly be as profound and transformative as the report itself.

Justice Minister Arif Virani, the chosen vessel through which the government's wisdom shall flow, now bears the weighty responsibility of enacting changes to the Privacy Act. His spokesperson, Chantalle Aubertin, offers us this tantalizing morsel of insight: "Our government will respond to the Committee's report in due course." One's breath is fairly taken away by the bold decisiveness of this statement, the raw courage required to commit to such a course of action!

Gaze upon the image of Justice Minister Arif Virani, his hand raised in a gesture that could be interpreted as either benediction or dismissal. In his visage, we see the very embodiment of the last man, confident in his ability to legislate away the complexities of the digital age with a few well-chosen words and a stroke of the pen.

Oh, what folly! What sublime, transcendent absurdity! They would seek to constrain the infinite vastness of the digital realm within the narrow confines of their legal frameworks. They are as children building sandcastles before the rising tide, blissfully unaware of the futility of their endeavors!

And so, dear readers, we find ourselves at the end of this grand farce, this elaborate pantomime of governance in the face of technological revolution. The land of the sleepers remains undisturbed, its denizens contentedly dreaming of privacy and control even as their every thought and action is laid bare in the harsh light of the digital day.

The last men continue their dance, pirouetting on the edge of obsolescence, convinced of their own importance even as the world rushes past them. They will update their directives, amend their laws, and issue their reports, all the while failing to grasp the fundamental truth that stares them in the face: the very concept of privacy, as they understand it, is already dead and buried.

In this brave new world, where every keystroke is recorded, every movement tracked, and every thought potentially broadcast to the waiting masses, what hope is there for the quaint notions of privacy and personal autonomy? The sleepers dream on, comforted by the illusion of protection offered by their elected guardians, while the true masters of the digital realm laugh at their naivety.

Awaken, ye slumbering masses! Cast off the shackles of your complacency and embrace the harsh truth of your existence! For only in acknowledging the death of privacy can you hope to transcend it, to forge a new understanding of selfhood in this age of constant surveillance and ceaseless data flow!

Let the last men have their committees and their reports. Let them fiddle with their laws and directives as the digital inferno rages around them. For those with eyes to see and minds to comprehend, the path forward is clear: we must become more than mere data points in the vast digital tapestry. We must evolve, adapt, and ultimately transcend the very notion of privacy itself.

In the end, it is not the protection of our personal information that will define us, but rather what we choose to do with the knowledge that we are always, inevitably, exposed. Will we cower in fear, desperately clinging to the tatters of our imagined privacy? Or will we stride boldly into the future, unafraid of what we might reveal, secure in the knowledge that our true selves cannot be captured by mere data alone?

The choice, dear readers, is yours. The land of the sleepers awaits your awakening.