The National Security Agency has been criticized since last June, when whistleblower Edward Snowden revealed their shocking dragnet of electronic surveillance. The NSA has slithered into every form of electronic communication on earth, and can spy on nearly everyone. In essence, the NSA has unilaterally-without the knowledge or consent of Congress-judged their spying activity to trump the right to privacy, and pursued complete conquest of all digital networks. 

Yet, despite the disregard the NSA has shown for Americans' rights, they retain a stubborn band of defenders. Much of the intelligence community, former Vice President Dick Cheney, and the national security zealots on Capitol Hill futilely defend any abuse that Snowden reveals. This group denies the right to privacy; they have forfeited the moral high ground. Anyone who would object to being spied on in the shower cannot take this position seriously.
There is also a group of NSA defenders who accept the right to privacy, but believe that the NSA does not substantially infringe upon it. In essence, they hold that the systematic interception of all our communications is negligible. In the Justice's March 18 issue, Kahlil Oppenheimer's '17 op-ed titled "Concern about web surveillance and NSA is overblown," offers us his version of this middle-of-the-road position.

Mr. Oppenheimer makes his moral stance clear toward the end of his article: "Regarding an intrinsic right to privacy, [he believes] we have one, but not when it comes to the Internet." Fundamentally, Oppenheimer has dispensed with inalienable rights, but still pays them lip service. The inconsistency of this view becomes clear in his next sentence, when he suggests that "if you want to have a private conversation, have it in person."

If you are standing next to your loved one, you have a right to privacy. If they are across the country, and you video-call them, you have apparently lost that right.
Conceptually, this is no different than saying that your property rights apply to the cash in your wallet, but not to your online bank account-though stealing from either is equally wrong and illegal.

Since Oppenheimer stands on moral quicksand by diluting inalienable rights, he must scurry to a utilitarian argument. He aims to downplay the NSA's mass violation of our rights by portraying a tiny cost that yields a massive reward. The arguments designed to achieve this are a series of worn-out diversions and logical fallacies that misdirect and obfuscate the debate away from the dangers of the NSA's spying rather than engage with them.

The most effective tactic that Oppenheimer employs is to claim that the NSA protects us. He states that NSA critics have "accrued the belief that any protective measures are superfluous because they've been brought up in extremely privileged, protected places because of agencies like the NSA." He emphasizes that we do not live under constant fear of terrorism, presumably as a direct result of the NSA's spying activities.

Claiming that blanket spying has directly prevented a terrorist attack must be supported by evidence, which the NSA has not provided because, they conveniently say, it is secret-but the burden of proof is on them. Merely to assert that there have been few terrorist attacks in America since these programs were enacted is insufficient, as correlation does not imply causation. To say that we should trust the NSA's claims on face is guilty not only of na??ve faith in authority, but also of two logical fallacies-an appeal to authority and an appeal to ignorance.

Next, Oppenheimer blurs the lines between public and private, and blames the victims for perceiving an overreach of those lines. Oppenheimer claims that "we've all known from the start that anything we put online [is] fair game," because "anything we put on the Internet is for other people or society to see." Note that Oppenheimer does not specify what he means by "fair game," and ignores the distinction between a private message and something intended for publication, disregarding the fact that every communication has an intended audience. This omission permits him to conflate a spy violating our privacy with those with whom we consent to communicate-sharing with someone does not mean sharing with everyone. The fact that private digital conversations have a high risk of being intercepted does not implicate the victim, only the spy.

Oppenheimer also resorts to belittling the desire for privacy, claiming that most communications are innocuous anyway. The worst thing that can happen, Oppenheimer says, is "that the government [will know] our plans for this Friday night." He also states that because "no human eyes will ever see any of our stuff unless it gets flagged," and it will be stored in a database, there is no real cause for concern.

I wonder if Oppenheimer would object to a video camera that recorded everything in his dorm room if he was promised that no one would ever watch the footage unless he came under investigation. I would expect Oppenheimer to object to so conspicuous an intrusion into his own privacy, although he defends a more subtle violation of everyone's privacy. In concept, both entail having nearly every moment of a person's life recorded without their consent.

The NSA has access to the private communications of every current and future world leader. They may not be able to do anything of consequence with your Friday night plans, but what about the Friday nights of every senator? Whether intentionally or not, the NSA has undoubtedly intercepted enough reputation-damaging misdeeds of our current politicians to coerce them, and is guaranteed to have a cornucopia of the next generation's teenage indiscretions.
Even if the current NSA does not care about this data, they collect it anyway, and store it indefinitely. Snowden termed the danger this poses as "turnkey tyranny." The tools to manipulate an entire nation have been assembled in the shadows, and the only thing preventing the key from being turned is the policy of an agency that operates beyond the control of Congress. Does this unchecked power not endanger the future of democracy?

In the information age, those with the information rule-and the NSA has forcibly seized a monopoly on all information. An issue this immense cannot be pettily reduced to straw-men about whether the NSA cares about your evening plans. Rather, the NSA's Orwellian spying must be addressed for what it is: a systematic and deliberate usurpation of democracy through the eradication of all vestiges of privacy.