±±¾©Èü³µpk10

...reminds Dan Douglass of the sinister film Unlawful Entry, where Ray Liotta believes he has the right to possess Kurt Russell's wife, played by Madeleine Stowe.

Have you ever seen ‘Unlawful Entry'?  In it Ray Liotta's LA Police Officer, Pete Davis, plots a nuanced course from model cop to responsible citizen to menacing stalker to murdering psychopath.

What's really interesting to see is how, after he's called in to investigate a case of domestic breaking and entering, he ingratiates his way into the lives and affections of the householders, the shiny young couple- played by Madeleine Stowe and Kurt Russell - whose personal space been violated.

Off-duty, Liotta's character is a part-time security consultant and he earns the couple's trust by installing military-grade security devices in their home. The couple are so seduced by the duty of care he exhibits and the attentive, protective manner in which he carries it out that they overlook the one thing that leaves them fatally exposed.

The officer's intimate knowledge of their security arrangements means that he can breach their defences whenever he wants. Which, in the final analysis, he does in order to take possession of the young wife.

Google's behaviour within the last few months has reminded me of the narrative arc of ‘Unlawful Entry'. They've worked their way into my life and now, try as hard as I might, I just can't get them out.

Like any great idea, Google started with an admirably altruistic single-minded quest - to gather user and other data ‘"to organise the world's information" for the benefit of us all.

Much like Kurt Russell, I've willingly suspended my disbelief that Google want to possess my data (the Madeleine Stowe in this analogy) believing instead that they have been serving and protecting me as a fully paid up member of a civilised society living through the information revolution.

When Google first came into my home, I marvelled at the imaginative leap and the visionary scope of its founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin. I embraced Google's highly refined and sophisticated targeting tools. I warmed to the creative uses of data. I was in awe of the precision with which Google approached search. I welcomed the speed and efficiency with which I could access the world of information. I praised the ingenious ways in which Google ‘bots' track my every move online - whether I was emailing, transacting, searching or chatting.

But in every script, as in this one, there's a point at which the plot turns irrevocably and in which characters are forced to reassess each other and themselves.

That point in ‘Unlawful Entry' is when Kurt Russell accepts Officer Davis's invitation to join him in his patrol car on the streets and observe some arrests. In the course of which Russell witnesses the indiscriminate slaying of a ‘perp'. That's the point at which Russell's view of his protector switches and he gets an insight into the cop's true vengeful motivations. Thereafter, Liotta's every move confirms the ‘other' darker side to his nature.

For me, the turning point in the Google script was also reached on the streets - with the arrival of Google Street View. It was reaffirmed by Google's purchase of online display advertising monolith DoubleClick. And it was last week made irrevocable by Google's plans to digitise the world's store of ‘orphan' books - those out-of-print books with expired copyrights.

Let's take each one of these plot twists in turn.

First, Street View. It's not illegal for Google to photograph my house and then put it out there for everyone to see. But it is my house, my front door, my alarm box on the front wall, my tree in the front garden which affords easy access to my first floor windows. It is my side gate and my side passage which offers perfect cover to an intruder and easy access to the rear of my premises. These things are not Google's. And, as yet they've not sought my permission to use them online.

Second, DoubleClick - by far the largest display ad firm. Combining Google's search information and DoubleClick's browsing information creates perhaps the richest data source ever generated for highly targeted advertising.  The individual's concern about Google's control of personal information and competition concerns about Google's dominance in online advertising are entirely justified. After all, where have Google's insights about our preferences come from if not online user data. And how far does the consumer's right to privacy protect them against unauthorised uses of that data in the name of brands? Or anything else for that matter?

Thirdly, Google's global library project to rival the Ancient Library of Alexandria. Their mission to put every single book online could be viewed as a noble calling.

Well, not quite. These books may be out of copyright, but Google doesn't gain entitlement to reproducing them just because it can. And the real use of the library to Google will not be making available lost works of literature to the masses, but understanding what people look for once inside the library. Track my search behaviour and Google can add to their already gargantuan store of free, precious data.

And there's the point of this ultimate seduction.

Like Officer Pete Davis in ‘Unlawful Entry', Google doesn't actually own any of our data. Yet it continues to behave as if it does - asserting a claim to our most personal stuff. And acquiring an obsession for possession.

In Liotta's case, Madeleine Stowe is the ultimate possession. He has no grounds to claim her but he feels she is his by right. And the feeling is enough. In Google's case it's data. They have no grounds to possess what they do not own, but they feel they do - and, to Google, if it feels right...

And yet, with £21 billion in advertising revenue last year and a profit of almost £8 billion in the face of the worst recession in living memory, Google continue to make money out of something that, strictly speaking, exists in the world and belongs to all of us.

How does that make you feel?

I know how it makes me feel. To quote the last line of dialogue from ‘Unlawful Entry' as Officer Davis takes a bullet - ‘Aargh!' ( and you won't be surprised to learn I googled that).

Dan Douglass is executive creative director at Meteorite. He writes a monthly column for marketingdirectmag.co.uk