There is something deeply unsettling about watching a politician acknowledge the dangers of mass surveillance and then offer legislation as the answer.

The concern is real. Automatic license plate readers, such as those operated by Flock Safety, can create detailed records of where ordinary people travel. Supporters argue that these systems can help law enforcement solve crimes. But that argument cannot end the conversation. We also have to ask what happens to all the data collected from people who have committed no crime at all.

That is where the issue becomes much bigger than a camera on a street corner.

It becomes a question of who owns the information, who controls it, who can access it, how long it is retained, how it can be shared, and what happens if the commercial value of that information grows.

In the video I reacted to, Adam Schiff speaks about those concerns. He acknowledges that Americans want effective law enforcement while also wanting privacy, liberty, and protection from government surveillance. He warns against turning government into a kind of Big Brother watching ordinary people.

Those are important concerns.

But then comes the proposed solution: federal legislation establishing rules and minimum standards for how the technology is used.

And that is where I become skeptical.

Regulation can sound reassuring. It gives the public the impression that someone is taking control of the problem. But legislation is only as meaningful as its enforcement. A law on paper does not automatically stop powerful institutions, corporations, or government agencies from finding ways around it.

And this is where we need to think beyond what these systems are doing today.

A clarification is important here: Flock Safety currently says that it does not sell customer license-plate-reader data. So the argument that follows is not a claim that Flock is currently selling everyone’s information. It is a warning about the value of the data being collected, who controls access to it, how that information can be shared, and what could happen as surveillance networks become larger and more commercially valuable.

Because once the infrastructure exists, the question isn’t only what it is being used for today.

It’s what it could be used for tomorrow.

Imagine a system in which people go about their daily lives—driving to work, taking their children to school, visiting friends, going shopping—and all the while their movements are being recorded.

Most of those people aren’t suspected of anything.

They are simply participating in society.

Yet their movements can become data.

And data becomes power.

That is what I mean when I describe this as a digital plantation.

The analogy isn’t about equating modern surveillance with the historical institution of slavery. It is about the underlying economic relationship: ordinary people generate something of value through their everyday lives, while someone else captures, aggregates, controls, and potentially benefits from that value.

Our movements become information.

Our information becomes an asset.

And assets can become incredibly valuable.

The uncomfortable question is: who gets to decide what that information is worth, and who gets to control it?

More importantly, who gets to decide what that data can be used for?

This is why the debate over surveillance cannot simply be reduced to whether cameras help police solve crimes. Of course technology can have legitimate uses. Of course law enforcement needs tools to investigate serious crimes.

But effectiveness is not the only value in a free society.

Privacy matters.

Liberty matters.

The ability to move through your own community without creating a detailed digital record of your movements matters.

There is a dangerous logic that says, “If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to worry about.”

That logic gets things backward.

Privacy isn’t something people deserve only when they’re innocent. Privacy is part of what it means to live as a free person.

And once surveillance infrastructure becomes widespread, removing it becomes much harder than preventing its expansion in the first place.

That is why simply promising to regulate the technology may not be enough.

We need meaningful limits on collection, retention, sharing, access, and secondary uses. We need transparency about who has the data and what happens to it. We need real consequences when those rules are violated.

And most importantly, we need politicians to be honest about the choices they’re making.

Don’t tell people you understand their fear of mass surveillance and then give them a regulatory framework that leaves the underlying surveillance infrastructure intact.

Don’t tell people privacy matters while expanding systems capable of monitoring the movements of millions of innocent people.

And don’t confuse the appearance of action with actual accountability.

The question isn’t whether technology can make law enforcement more effective.

It can.

The question is whether we’re willing to normalize an infrastructure capable of tracking ordinary people’s movements simply because the technology makes surveillance easier.

A free society shouldn’t have to choose between public safety and basic rights.

We should demand both.

And if our leaders genuinely believe these surveillance systems are necessary, then they should be willing to put meaningful limits on them—not just give us another promise that everything will be fine because there will be legislation.

Because when the cameras are everywhere and the data is constantly being collected, the problem isn’t simply what the cameras can see.

The problem is who controls what they see—and what happens when the value of that information becomes too great to ignore.

Watch video here: