When I was studying in China, the other kids and I always freaked out when we were doing something illicit, like entertaining a Chinese friend or using an electric tea kettle, and the dorm attendant came knocking at the door. Clearly we were being surveilled. Over time, one of the things we grew to appreciate about the United States was our individual privacy. Obviously, since then, what seemed like an inviolable right has been casually thrown away like a pile of old VHS tapes. Where I once cherished my privacy, now I might as well be sprawled naked on the pavement in Times Square surrounded by my open passport, credit cards, bank statements, and diaries.