Watching Boars Watching BoarsIn the middle of the screen was a rather small, grainy, black-and-white video of a clearing in a German forest. I could hear the birds tweeting in the background, and then I could see shadows moving around among the tree trunks. I watched as the blurs morphed into a couple of boars. They moved into the clearing, snorting and snuffling through the dirt and underbrush, wandered around for a few minutes and then snorted and snuffled out of sight. A few minutes later, I heard more snuffling, and another boar emerged from the shadows and then disappeared. Then silence (except for those birds).
I sat in front of my computer, both absolutely entranced and horrified. Every now and again I’d hear a snuffle or snort, and I’d peer intently at the screen to see whether the animals would come into view. But at the same time, I was sitting there (for probably 90 minutes or so) very aware of watching myself watching this screen – what was I doing?? Better yet, what was I thinking??
I’ve never looked at surveillance in quite the same way since.
I agree that there is something disturbing about knowing that my movements
around the web and across the valley are being watched and tracked. I don’t
supposed the boars were bothered by my watching. I mean, they’re boars.
What do they know? But I was stung by my seemingly unquenchable curiosity about
what was happening in this strange forest clearing halfway around the world.
I must share that curiosity with millions of others, given the proliferation
of webcams. I suppose there’s something innocent about watching the behavior
of weird animals in exotic locations, but curiosity is an indiscriminate tether.
Next thing you know, it’s drawn you in a shadowy sidestep to someplace
less innocent, watching the seemingly private behavior of real people.