Welcome back to another Question of the Week here at The Confusing Middle!

Last week, Gregory Stock asked if I’d wear a voice-activated safety watch that tracked my whereabouts and could summon police with a shout. My answer was a pretty definitive “no”—partly because I don’t wear watches, partly because my wrist breaks out in hives from smartwatch bands, and partly because I’m just not convinced that adding one more surveillance device to my life would actually make me any safer.

This week, Stock doubles down on the surveillance theme with a follow-up question: If you could use such a device to create a minute-by-minute archive of precisely where you’d been, would you? If so, what would you do with it, and would anything worry you about others getting the information?

So we’ve moved from “Would you wear the tracking watch?” to “Would you actually USE the tracking feature?” Which is kind of funny, because I already said I wouldn’t wear the thing in the first place. But sure, let’s entertain the hypothetical. Let’s say I’m somehow wearing this watch despite all my objections. Would I turn on the feature that creates a detailed, minute-by-minute record of everywhere I go?

Spoiler alert: Still no.

The Utterly Boring Archive of My Movements

Here’s the thing about tracking my daily movements: the resulting data would be spectacularly uninteresting.

I work from home. Have for a while now. And in this post-COVID world, working remotely isn’t just convenient—it’s a dream come true. For an introvert like me, not having to commute to an office, not having to engage in small talk by the break room coffee maker, not having to pretend I’m excited about someone’s weekend plans… that’s not depressing. That’s life goals.

So what would a minute-by-minute archive of my whereabouts actually reveal?

• 7:00 AM – Bedroom
• 7:30 AM – Kitchen
• 8:00 AM – Home office/desk
• 12:00 PM – Kitchen
• 12:15 PM – Couch
• 1:00 PM – Home office/desk
• 3:30 PM – Outside with dog
• 3:45 PM – Home office/desk
• 6:00 PM – Kitchen
• 6:30 PM – Couch
• 11:00 PM – Bedroom

Rinse and repeat. Day after day after day.

Occasionally there’s a trip to the grocery store. Maybe a run to Target. Every so often I’ll venture out for something vaguely social, though that’s rare enough that it would probably stand out in the data like a statistical anomaly. “Subject left residential zone at 7:00 PM on a Friday. Highly irregular behavior. Possible system malfunction.”

The most exciting variation in my daily routine comes from walking Krypto. Most days it’s the same route—around the block, maybe down to the corner and back. We have our routine. But if it’s a particularly nice day, I might extend the walk or take a different route. And sometimes our path changes if we encounter another dog walker, because while Krypto is significantly more social than I am, when he’s on the leash he’s not exactly Mr. Friendly. So we’ll detour to avoid potential conflict.

That’s it. That’s the thrilling archive of my movements. A data scientist looking at this information would either think the tracking device was broken or conclude that I’m the most boring person ever to exist.

What Would I Even DO With This Information?

Stock asks what I would do with a minute-by-minute archive of my whereabouts, and I genuinely cannot think of a single use for it.

Would I look back fondly at the time I went to the grocery store on March 3rd at 2:47 PM? Would I want to reminisce about that walk with Krypto where we took the extended route because the weather was nice? Would I create some kind of heat map showing that I spend 87% of my time within a 50-foot radius of my couch?

No. None of that sounds remotely appealing or useful.

I’m sure somewhere out there, some data collection firm would absolutely love to have this information. They’d feed it into their algorithms, cross-reference it with my purchasing habits, figure out exactly how predictable my routine is, and use that to… I don’t know, serve me more targeted ads for dog food and delivery pizza? But for me personally? I couldn’t care less where I was at 3:17 PM on any given Tuesday. I was probably at my desk. Or on my couch. Those are pretty much the only two options.

My phone technically has the capability to track this kind of detailed location data through Google Maps. You know what I do with that feature? I keep it turned off. Not necessarily because I’m particularly concerned about privacy—though that’s part of it—but because it drains the battery. And I’d rather have a functional phone that lasts all day than a detailed record of the fact that I went from my apartment to the gas station and back.

The One Scenario Where It Might Actually Be Useful

Okay, I’ll admit there’s ONE scenario where having a minute-by-minute archive of my movements might actually come in handy: if I were accused of a crime and needed a solid alibi.

“Mr. Smith, can you account for your whereabouts on the evening of February 10th?”

“Why yes, officer, I can. According to my tracking watch, I was at home on my couch from 6:30 PM until 11:15 PM, at which point I moved to my bedroom where I remained until morning. I left my apartment exactly twice that day—once at 9:00 AM to walk my dog, and again at 3:30 PM for the same purpose. Both walks lasted approximately 15 minutes and covered the same route around my block. I did not deviate from this pattern. I did not leave my building. I was, as the data clearly shows, extremely boring and definitely not committing any crimes.”

Of course, knowing my luck, that would be the exact day the system glitched. Or the prosecution would find some way to have the evidence thrown out, claiming it’s unreliable or easily manipulated. “Your Honor, the defendant could have simply left his watch at home while he committed the murder. This proves nothing.”

So even in the one hypothetical scenario where this data might be genuinely useful, I’m skeptical it would actually help.

The Privacy Question (Or: Why Add More Surveillance?)

Stock’s question specifically asks if anything would worry me about others getting this information, and honestly? If I allowed myself to really think about it—to truly worry about all the ways this data could be accessed, stolen, misused, or weaponized—I’d probably spiral into some pretty paralyzing anxiety.

But here’s the thing: these concerns already exist. We’re already being tracked. Our phones already know where we are. Credit card companies know where we shop. Social media platforms know where we check in. Security cameras capture us on dozens of different feeds every time we leave the house. The infrastructure for surveillance is already in place. It’s already happening.

So the question isn’t really “Would you be worried about others getting this information?” The question is “Are you willing to volunteer for even MORE tracking than is already occurring?”

And my answer to that is a hard no.

I’m not naive enough to think I have complete privacy. I know my data is being collected and sold and analyzed by companies I’ve never heard of for purposes I’ll never fully understand. I’ve made my peace with a certain level of surveillance simply by virtue of living in the modern world and using modern technology. But that doesn’t mean I need to actively participate in creating even more detailed records of my movements.

There’s a difference between passively accepting that Big Tech knows where I am and actively choosing to create a minute-by-minute archive of my whereabouts. One is the unavoidable cost of living in 2026. The other is volunteering for a level of documentation that serves no practical purpose in my life.

We’re Already Living in the Panopticon

The reality is that if someone really wanted to track my movements, they probably could. Law enforcement could subpoena my phone records. Hackers could breach whatever company is storing my location data. A sufficiently motivated stalker could piece together my routine just by watching my building for a few days.

The question isn’t whether that information exists—it does. The question is whether I want to make it easier to access by creating a convenient, comprehensive archive and storing it in one place.

And the answer is no. Because while I can’t prevent every possible breach of my privacy, I can at least avoid actively participating in my own surveillance. I can choose not to create records that don’t need to exist. I can opt out of features that promise convenience or safety but really just add one more data point to the ever-growing profile that various entities are building about me.

Is that paranoia? Maybe. But it’s also just… common sense. Don’t create unnecessary vulnerabilities. Don’t store information you don’t need. Don’t volunteer for tracking systems that serve no practical purpose in your actual life.

The Honest Answer (Again)

So would I use Stock’s minute-by-minute tracking archive feature?

No. Absolutely not.

Not because I’m doing anything I need to hide. Not because I’m engaged in some kind of secret double life where I need to obscure my movements. But because I genuinely cannot think of a single reason why I would want or need that information. It wouldn’t make my life better. It wouldn’t solve any problems I actually have. It would just create a detailed record of how spectacularly boring my daily routine is.

And as for whether I’d worry about others getting that information? Sure, in an abstract sense. But I’m already worried about all the data that’s being collected about me every single day by companies and platforms I barely understand. Adding one more tracking system to that mix doesn’t fundamentally change the surveillance landscape—it just makes it slightly more detailed and slightly more voluntary.

Which is exactly why I wouldn’t do it.

Your Turn

Alright, I’m curious about this one. Would you create a minute-by-minute archive of your movements? Are you someone with an exciting enough life that the data would actually be interesting? Or are you like me—a homebody introvert whose tracking data would basically just confirm that yes, you really do spend that much time on your couch?

And what about the privacy angle? Does the idea of others accessing that information worry you? Or have you already made peace with living in a world where privacy is mostly an illusion anyway?

Drop your thoughts in the comments. I want to hear from the people who think this sounds useful, the people who think it sounds dystopian, and the people who are just wondering why anyone would voluntarily create more data about themselves than absolutely necessary.

Until next week, this is Aaron, still here at The Confusing Middle, still overthinking Gregory Stock’s thought experiments, and still pretty sure that the best privacy protection is just not creating unnecessary records in the first place.