They Got the Data, But We Got... What Exactly?

Not long ago, I read a story about Walnut Creek, a small city here in California. The headline made it sound like they were spying on visitors. Creepy, right? But when I dug into it, I found something more familiar and maybe more frustrating.

Turns out, the city was using a service from a company called Arrivalist. This service helps them understand where visitors come from, how long they stay, what areas they visit. Insightful stuff, honestly. But here's the catch: they don’t collect this data directly. They buy it. From data brokers. Who get it from apps and services we all use every day.

Most people probably have no idea this is even happening. We install a weather app or some random game, and just like that, we’re handing over location data. Not just once, constantly.

It's quietly collected, aggregated, sold, and re-sold. And in the end, some city official in Walnut Creek is looking at a heatmap of foot traffic and thinking they’ve got real-time insight into behavior.

And maybe they do. But it’s not their data. It’s ours.

I love data. But I love choice more.

I’m a big fan of analytics I work with it all the time. Data helps us understand the world. It powers better products, better cities, even smarter policies. But we’ve crossed a line.

When the business model is built on our data, the incentive becomes... collect more. Always more. Keep us hooked. Keep us scrolling. Keep us “engaged” just long enough to show another ad. Our attention gets hijacked not just for entertainment but for extraction.

And we barely notice it anymore.

This is what economist Yanis Varoufakis calls technofeudalism. We generate the value all that data, all that content and someone else owns it. They profit from it. Think about creators on TikTok or Instagram. Some make money, sure. But most don’t. They’re building entire ecosystems of content viral dances, jokes, tutorials that fuel engagement and revenue for the platform. In return, what do they get? A few likes, some visibility, maybe a tip or two. Is that really a fair trade?

The real problem isn't the ads. It’s the control.

Some people say, “I don’t care if they track me, I’ve got nothing to hide.” I get that. But it’s not about hiding. It’s about control. This data is being used to build models, train AI, shape recommendations sometimes even take jobs away from the people who helped generate that very data.

We should have the right to say: “Hey, that’s mine. I want out.” Or: “I want a share of that.” Not because we’re paranoid, but because we’re part of the system. No data, no product.

Thankfully, California gives me a choice.

I’m lucky to live in California, where privacy laws like CCPA give me the ability to do something about this. Recently, I went through the process of deleting personal data from some of these services and brokers. They had collected it from public records and who knows where else.

And guess what? It was easy. Each request took just a few minutes. That alone made me feel more empowered, like I had a little more control over my digital self.

More states should follow. It shouldn’t be a fight to reclaim what’s already ours.

It’s not just about privacy. It’s about fairness.

Whether you have something to hide or not doesn’t matter. What matters is: do you have the freedom to manage your own data? Do you know where it’s going, and what it’s building?

Because without our data our clicks, our posts, our locations many of these digital empires wouldn’t exist. The least they can do is treat us with respect. Or even better, give us a cut. Let us choose. Let us move our content and our followers if we want to leave.

This idea might sound idealistic. But it’s also practical. A more fair internet isn’t just possible it’s necessary.

Let’s start there.