Look, did I feel creepy recording my mother and my aunt without them knowing? Or my barista? Or a random couple at the coffee shop? Or my Uber driver? Or…an aggressive squirrel in Central Park? I sure did, but I was just doing my job.
And by job, I don’t mean a spy—not that I could tell you if I was one anyway. I’m a not-at-all covert technology columnist reviewing a new pair of camera-equipped sunglasses from Ray-Ban and Facebook , and considering the privacy implications of such an innovation.
