With the nation fixated on television's parody of George Orwell's dystopic vision of the future, most of us have failed to notice the real Big Brother sneaking through the floorboards into the back of our screens. On July 28, while many of us were settling down with a bag of crisps to see whether Nasty Nick had been rumbled, the Regulation of Investigatory Powers (RIP) Act was passed.
In response to growing hysteria about "cybercrime" such as child pornography on the net and hacking, it gives the government, police, security services and lesser public authorities such as your local council, benefits office, even the Eggs Inspectorate, the power to intercept anyone's emails and demand decryption keys or passwords.
There was an outcry at the time: internet thinktank FIPR, the Foundation for Information Policy Research, has declared the bill "a grevious affront on our civil liberties", while Liberty, the human rights group called it "repugnant" and the Conservatives snapped up the opportunity to wheel out the "Blair's demon eyes watching you" campaign again.
A couple of the broadsheets - and Roy Greenslade in Media Guardian - nobly attempted to explain the implications for people who didn't understand the significance of the clauses in part III pertaining to cryptography, which mean that if you forget your pin number for your cashpoint card or mobile and are therefore unable to hand over the key to the authorities who have issued a warrant, you could be banged up for up to two years.
The main complaint, according to the FIPR, is that it is "a superbly effective machine for keeping tabs on law abiding citizens [such as journalists, who, for example, might find it very difficult to investigate a public authority and protect their sources] and of no use against criminals who can easily circumvent the proceedures."
But anti-RIP feeling is just one aspect of the growing international protest against the infringement of data protection and escalating surveillance. In July it emerged that the FBI had been using Carnivore, a black box internet wire-tapping machine, for almost a year; in New Zealand it's the fight against the Echelon surveillance system; in Holland it's against the OCI (operational crypto interception) project.
But even without the spectre of the "technologies of political control", we are entering an era of hyper-connectivity and data surveillance which would be beyond even Orwell's wildest imaginings. In terms of sheer penetration of "smart screens", reality has far outstripped fiction. Most households in Britain by 2004 will have at least two internet-enabled devices - most likely digital TV with broadband internet conection, home computer or mobile, while some of us will have gone the whole hog, with wired cars and kitchen appliances all "talking" to each other using Blue Tooth technology and co-ordinating our schedule for the day.
Already people talk about how impossible it is to switch off. With ADSL "always on" phonelines, there is no escaping the network - unless you unplug every night. Connection speeds will be 20 times faster but that means the computer will be 20 times more susceptible to hacking and data leaks. Barclays bank had a bit of a shock in July when customer data had escaped onto the website. But corporates have the resources to counter these security risks and ultimately it is the average PC owner who should worrying.
"It is almost impossible for the man in the street to be sure that their computer is safe from a break in," says Caspar Bowden, spokesperson for FIPR. "If there is data that you care about, just don't keep it on the machine". People with broadband connections, he predicts, will feel obliged to fit personal firewalls to stop the threat of unsolicited visits and hacking and there will be a massive boost in sales of piracy tools designed to run rings around the RIP Act.
With RIP, we can only trust that the authorities won't abuse their position, but can we trust the advertisers to do the same? The practice of web-tracking is already common amongst some new media agencies. Through a simple combination of cookies which attach themselves to the user when they visit a site, they can already, without their consent, build up profiles of users and follow them several other sites afterwards. Meanwhile, with third generation mobile phones that can pinpoint the user's location to a matter of metres, the central computer can doctor advertising promotions accordingly and in seconds.
When consumers sign an online consent form to give up personal details and address information in exchange for offers and promotions - be it an ice lolly or a ticket to Steps - they are giving away precious data which could end up in the hands of third party advertisers or agencies who will pay handsomely for the information. "It's a trade off - you buy privacy with hard cash. Something could cost you £20 less if you agree to pass on your data," says Bowden.
Privacy is becoming a privilege we have to pay for. In America, backlash is already happening. The White Dot anti-TV campaign has just launched a controversial book, Spy TV, which exposes the methods by which digital interactive television will observe viewers and build up geographic, demographic and psychographic profiles of individuals which can then be used to "modify their behaviour".
Motorola Broadband, ACTV and OpenTV have all invested in a company called digital ADCO which is designed to profile over 7m viewers without their knowledge. ACTV promises to deliver commercials based on "the specific profile of an individual household which is generated by ACTV's software within the digital set-top in the home." Every time we change channels, select a certain programme, browse or buy through an interactive site, every click can be tracked. In other words, our TV sets will know us better than we know ourselves.
"People should express concerns about privacy to the data protection commission", says Bowden, as a last recommendation to any paranoid consumers out there, "and beware of phrases like 'personalisation' and 'tailor-made'".
New applications and technologies are sold to time-strapped and increasingly technophilic citizens, as a means to introduce more control and convenience into our lives; but ultimately, who is control of our personal details? Answer: the advertisers, marketeers, public authorities, data analysts and even that producer sitting behind the screen in the Big Brother interview room handing out tasks to the guinea pigs and offering kind words of advice.
