Summary
Highlights
The video opens by introducing the widespread presence of surveillance tools in schools and universities. Technologies from companies like Gaggle, Bark, and Securely collect detailed student data, often failing to deliver on promises of greater safety and academic performance while eroding student privacy. This is particularly problematic in poor communities and for students of color, accelerating the 'school to prison pipeline'. The monitoring stifles intellectual debate and critical inquiry, and allows corporations and government agencies to stigmatize and criminalize students, using digital platforms for propaganda and behavior shaping. Nolan Higden and Allison Butler are introduced as authors of "Surveillance Education: Navigating the Conspicuous Absence of Privacy in Schools".
Allison Butler describes the incredibly intrusive nature of school surveillance. While individuals often consent to surveillance in daily life (e.g., GPS), students, especially minors in K-12, are surveilled without their active consent. Societies have become accustomed to 'soft' surveillance technologies (like QR codes or phone apps), which primes them to accept more intrusive systems in classrooms without questioning. Nolan Higden explains that these education technology (edtech) companies, resembling Silicon Valley in their overpromising and under-delivering, market their tools as educational enhancements, security measures, or even inclusivity tools, masking profit motives and data collection. These tools often fail to improve safety or learning and can exacerbate issues like bias.
Allison details GoGuardian, a technology used in K-12 classrooms that monitors student computer screens. While marketed for keeping students on task, many teachers are unaware that the technology itself (not just the teacher) is collecting and retaining student data. This data, belonging to minors, is then subject to limited digital protections. A teacher's anecdote highlights GoGuardian's invasiveness, showing it can monitor students even when they are home. Another tool, Turnitin, is presented as plagiarism detection software. However, it also uses student submissions to train generative AI and sells this language data to advertisers, essentially making students unknowingly work for the corporation without compensation.
Nolan discusses how surveillance technologies police students, particularly those in poor neighborhoods and students of color. These tools claim to predict criminality or mental health issues. However, the algorithms interpreting the data are coded with the biases of their creators, often leading to racist or transphobic conclusions. Algorithms disproportionately categorize students of color as more likely to commit crimes and flag trans kids for mental health issues, leading to over-policing. The myth of objective algorithms is debunked, as research shows these tools often worsen existing problems of racism and transphobia.
Allison clarifies that edtech companies often 'share' data rather than 'sell' it, a crucial distinction in privacy. Many corporations form partnerships, allowing them to legally share student data without appearing to sell it. This means detailed information can end up with potential employers, universities, or private schools without direct sales. Nolan explains how edtech companies, often owned by equity firms, are part of 'surveillance capitalism,' an industry that treats humans as products to extract data and predict/nudge behavior. Schools are attractive targets for data collection due to their status as public spaces, allowing these firms to gather psychographic profiles from 'cradle to grave.'
Allison discusses how surveillance tools aid universities in suppressing dissent, particularly protests, such as those against the genocide in Palestine. She argues that universities' fear of young people and challenging established norms leads them to use these tools to maintain control. Combined with police state tools like body cameras, surveillance captures participants' identities, making them vulnerable. This fundamentally undermines the traditional role of universities as centers for the exchange of ideas and dissent in a democratic society. Nolan highlights that the 'national security' industry is heavily involved, with tools like the internet and GPS originating from the military-industrial complex. These tools collect data shared with entities like DHS and the intelligence community, purportedly to spot threats, but ultimately negatively impacting the learning environment by fostering distrust and stifling risk-taking essential for education.
Nolan details Pegasus, an Israeli-developed spyware that can monitor individuals globally, operating via other software and hardware. He emphasizes that the US is also involved in similar surveillance production. Nolan points out the need for laws to catch up with digital surveillance, as existing privacy protections have loopholes exploited by governments and corporations. He cites the 2012 changes to FERPA, which allowed schools to share student information with 'educational partners,' bypassing previous privacy safeguards. He then describes Augur as a data broker that collects and analyzes massive amounts of data, selling products to governments seeking to surveil, understand, predict, or nudge behavior, including targeting activists. Allison elaborates on 'algorithmic racism,' where algorithms, built by fallible humans, inherently bake in biases like racism, sexism, and homophobia. This means digital technologies are predisposed to view people of color and other marginalized groups through a prejudiced lens. An example given is facial recognition software in test proctoring, which is less accurate for black and brown students, forcing them to provide more identification. Another example shows algorithms falsely predicting students of color will fail, based on biased training data.
Nolan addresses the vulnerability of students with contested or illegal immigration status. He explains that participating in education where these surveillance tools are present threatens their or their family's migrant status. Information from sources like LexisNexis, widely used in education, is sold to agencies like ICE, potentially leading to tracking and deportation. The discussion then turns to LGBTQ+ students. School-issued devices can alert campuses to students' web searches about their sexuality, leading to them being 'outed' to school officials or law enforcement. This constant monitoring curtails curiosity and critical self-exploration, essential for identity development, and creates mental trauma for these students.
Allison explains that constant surveillance ensures 'ideological homogeneity' among faculty, starting from biased application processes (e.g., diversity statements) and continuing with students illegally recording teachers. This pressure can lead to educators leaving if their views are perceived as counter to the status quo, as seen in recent events (e.g., post-October 7th). She argues that these technologies foster environments of mistrust, stifling curiosity, critical thinking, and the ability to make mistakes. Nolan adds that there's a long history of employers using surveillance to exploit workers and undermine collective bargaining. Faculty, by using edtech tools without strict contractual protections, risk being monitored, having their work exploited for data, and even training their replacements through AI-driven functions like smart grading. If left unchecked, Allison warns of 'factory schools' that prioritize rote learning and reinforce existing power structures. Future generations will normalize constant monitoring, and privacy will cease to exist. Education will become 'benign, careful information,' with sophisticated, flashy technology masking a shallow, unchallenging curriculum, fostering isolation rather than community and collaboration. Nolan concludes that surveillance obliterates liberty, creating a master-slave dynamic rather than an environment of freedom.