The Sunday Times of London has a piece on how companies are using Google to find out more about prospective employees. This wouldn’t be a big issue if Google’s accumulation of information about every little thing that we do and every peccadillo we commit didn’t begin to add up to the sort of dossier that only the FBI used to have. The article cites this example
Mary-Anne sent a perfect CV, properly spell-checked, with her application for a cracking new job as a programmer at a leading computer systems firm. She had the skills, she had the grades, she had the experience from another blue-chip firm.
The trouble arose when the prospective employer Googled Mary-Anne
But when Mary-Anne’s application arrived, according to a recruitment consultant working with her prospective employer, they ran her name through Google. Up popped something she hadn’t mentioned on her CV. She’d been a contestant in two topless modelling competitions.
That was the end for Mary-Anne’s prospects. And for a reason that had nothing to do with her skills and qualifications for the job. The article goes on with more examples of a development that means less and less privacy. Among the disturbing factors is the fact that raw information is very subject to misinterpretation. Further, it subjects us to the whims and biases of others. And the information never goes away. It just sits there on Google’s servers waiting to be called up. Would you like to be judged on everything you said ten years ago? As the article says
Whether that extra, often innocent, information matters is purely up to the person doing the Googling, and there is no appeal.
Is it fair to use such information  some of it untrue, some out of context  to make decisions about our futures? Which is real: our cyber persona or our living, breathing persona?
I suppose you could argue that it means that people should be more discreet and careful about what they do and say but I find it disturbing that I might have a nanny overlooking everything I do. Consider this blog. Everything I write here is preserved. I might have a moment of stupidity and say something dumb. Will somebody pick on that twenty years from now? Maybe there ought to be a statute of limitations.