As a child, I was fascinated by aquariums. I could stand for hours, observing the activities of different fish, with their exotic colours changing hues, as intricate gills pumped away leaving interesting and continuously changing patterns of air bubbles racing towards the surface with a vigour. The graceful creatures cut innumerable and invisible mazes of tracks in the cool water as they glided and glistened away, manoeuvring their bodies effortlessly around the artificial nooks and crannies that we created for them. 

Their environment was absolutely and completely controlled by us, the observers, and watching them react to the introduction of a novelty in their space was particularly entertaining.

I still am not so sure if they were oblivious to the fact that they were being assiduously studied and keenly observed, for there were the occasional instances when a particular creature would press her fleshy rounded lips against the glass for a fleeting moment as if trying to say something, or more hauntingly position a heavily hooded iris in line with my own as if trying to establish some sort of rapport.

During these fleeting or rather timeless instances of primordial communication, I used to wonder if it made more sense to set my fish free, in the big blue sea where they could roam freely into a boundless space. My suggestion was always met with the same retort : my fish would not survive in the big blue one because they were now used to a controlled environment, and that by observing them  and controlling their milieu we were protecting them from unwarranted devastating changes in their lives... for they would be instantly devoured by other vicious sealife or eat the wrong food or be in wrong temperature or concoct some sort of activity they never did in the glass house and do themselves some real , irreversible harm. So the argument invariably followed that by curtailing their freedom, by continuously monitoring them we were protecting them big time, even from themselves. 

And that was that.

Another fascinating observation of my childhood days was the extent to which people in my village ogled other people from behind the persjani, from the corner of the wooden balcony one storey up shielded by the starched lace curtain, or more brazenly from behind the “purtiera tax xibka minhabba d-dubbien”, concealing a presence in the half open doorway. Ogling was/ is a pastime in most cultures worldwide. It is perfectly legal, accepted and warranted if one has to seriously harmonise his existence with others, and being so indispensable, it has now been replaced by its technological much more effective counterpart : googling or go-ogling across the globe from the corner of your sofa in the corner of your living room.

It’s all about a choice we continuously make. 

Do we want a private life? Do we want a private life with no private space? Do we acknowledge a demarcation line between our private and public existence? Do we prefer a homogeneous integration in global life where we put our individuality up for scrutiny in a virtual space, that infinite reality show space made up of our everyday activities, adventures and observations?

Does it bother us that our most intimate private conversations, e mails and text messages are just accessible, at the push of a button, as our most public statement on Facebook?

Are we ready to forfeit our private lives entirely and completely just to remain connected? For even carrying a phone that is switched off, even without uttering a syllable in a day, a complete story can be told about our whereabouts.

Are we that terrified of being alone with ourselves, petrified of being unlinked and unconnected to human life even for an instance that we panic when we are without our connection devices or capabilities even for a few minutes at a stretch?

Contemporary understanding of privacy seems to have metamorphosed to the extent that most of us no longer recognise the reasonable parameters that make up the boundaries of a healthy private space. Even defining 'a healthy private space' is rendered impossible by its transnational, digitally denatured and conditioned subjectivity.

It is incredulous that according to data recently published by Vodafone, Malta is one of the most spied on countries in Europe.

To make it worse Malta is one of the states (together with Albania, Egypt, Hungary , India, Qatar, Romania, South Africa and Turkey) who deems it unlawful to disclose any kind of information regarding the content which was intercepted over the mobile network. There seems to be great flaws in the scrutiny covering this practice in Malta. 

Local legislation bars the disclosure of the spying capability of the Malta Security Services, though back in 2005 the Times of Malta had actually reported on plans to install a national surveillance system that would cover all channels of communication. The Vodafone report speaks about data requested by the police called metadata and tapping which is only accessible to MSS. Apparently, over a year, between 1 April 2013 and 31 March 2014, Malta received 3,773 metadata requests from the police.

It would be interesting to know how many lines are being tapped by the Malta Security Services as we speak , and on what grounds that tapping has been or is being justified . Obviously I will be putting a Parliamentary question to try and get you the information but don't be shocked if the answer  turns out to be ' l- informazzjoni ghadha qed tingabar', jew 'l- informazzjoni tinghata f'seduta ohra', liema seduta  never materialiases! That was common practice pre-PL government and is still very much in fashion in these days of Civil Rights and transparency, all in the name of protecting you readers from self harm and destruction of course, much like the much loved fish in the aquarium of my childhood.

In the meantime, if your i-phone suddenly becomes too hot, if entire text message conversations disappear from your screen,  just give up your 'thought crimes’, and take 'double speak' to the next level where you not only think contradictory things at the same time and believe  both versions, but do the same with your articulations.

George Orwell will turn in his grave Lord Bless his Soul  and our Malta Security Service brothers and sisters will need to learn 'triplespeak'.

In the meantime I wish to make it clear that I do not attribute the state of affairs to the current Minister of Home Affairs. He is ta' Malta Taghna Lkoll Tassew just as much as I am, and a gentleman who goes about his collective responsibility duties as a Minister, assiduously and loyally even if it means compromising his popularity.

It’s a question of central control, and of the rest of us settling down  quietly in the role of  just 'a cog in a wheel.'