Ok fine, so in some cases the equation is pretty much balanced. Let me give you an example. Take pizza… pizza is pretty simple. You’ve got the sauce, the cheese, the crust… maybe some toppings.
So you go into the pizza shop, grab a slice and s-s-swipe that debit card. It’s like two dollars… maybe three. So you put up the dough (pun definitely intended) and take the pizza and that seems pretty much fine. Your local pizza guy, Sal, is supporting his family and keeping it real. It’s probably pretty tough to run that business and if anything that deserves more than $3 a slice. But overall it’s a pretty fair deal.
Now, on the other hand, let’s say that when you bought that slice of pizza Sal collected some deeply personal information from you like, I dunno, your relationship status, age, gender, location and like 95 other things about you, and then sold it…
FOR A BILLION DOLLARS.
We think that would be pretty messed up, and we would probably start to hate Sal after a while. We’d hit him with questions like:
Hey, Sal, why’d you give me that slice of Pizza for almost nothing but then sell my personal information for billions of dollars?
Hey, Sal, how come every time I go into your Pizza shop you’ve always got weird new ways of collecting info about me and making billions of dollars?
Hey Sal how come you’re making billions of dollars enrolling the entire world’s population in your little pizza game, while I’m out here struggling to pay my rent?
Or simply… Hey Sal, how come you get 100% of the billions of dollars from my data and I get 0%?
Man, Sal, you’ve gone and turned yourself from an affable, loveable, pizza spinning Italian guy into one helluva crazy evil billionaire genius monster. I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. How do you do it Sal? HOW. DO. YOU. DO IT. I’ll tell you how.
Sal puts crack in his pizza.
I know, I know. Crack is illegal. But Sal don’t care. Sal’s a billionaire now, remember? And billionaires can do whatever they want. Even sell you crack. Oh wait, we forgot. Sal’s crack ain’t even for sale. He just tucks it up under the crust of his pizza and gives it away for free. So of course you’re gonna eat it– and come back for more.
And when you do…BAM. Sal’s right there to collect more info about you. Man that’s some seductive pizza you’ve got cookin’ up there, Sal.
All we’re saying is that Sal should take care of us, give back a little bit more besides just the free garlic knots he’s got on the counter. Yeah they’re delicious, but it’s really just leftover dough that Sal was gonna throw away anyway.
I dunno Sal, maybe share some of your pizza billions with the folks who helped you with the come up in the first place? But nah, we’re trained not to think like that. We’re here just for the cracked out pizza. And we don’t just eat it on the regular, we actually believe in that pizza and we get into it. HARD.
Try a new pizza place? Nahhhhh, why would I? All my friends go here, including like hundreds of people I haven’t spoken to since high school. Man every time I walk in the door Sal’s right there suggesting that I reconnect with more of my friends.
Remember that kid who played third string quarterback on your high school football team? He’s at the back corner table hitting the Sicilian slice, extra cheese. That girl you dated for a hot minute before you realized it was Senior Year and you had options? She just walked out a few minutes ago, but Ol’ Sal can find her if you’d like. The weird professor from Freshman year of college who always wore those tight khakis? Yeah, we know you never wanted to see him again. But he’s here too. You hear me man? HE’S. HERE. TOO.
Yeah I know I had to give up all of my personal information in the process, but who doesn’t want more friends?
So next time you pop into the world’s top pizza shop just stop and ask yourself. What are they doing for Y-O-U?