Have you ever waited in line at a security checkpoint thinking: "I wish these people knew exactly who I am, in which case they would know that I'm not a threat and could be waived through?" Maybe it's me, but I have that thought a lot, even though I know full well that the entity doing the controlling might want to know a lot about me in order to give me a free pass or expedited processing.
In fact, when it comes to the U.S. government, it already does know a lot about me. And you might be surprised to hear this, but I'm fine with that, so far.

If I were to place myself on the "privacy meter" on the right, I am very much an open book. This could just be a matter of personality, but as I was standing in line at passport control in Houston last week, it occurred to me that my embrace of transparency may also have something to do with my being an immigrant, a naturalized U.S. citizen, someone who chose to live in America (about 30 years ago).
I think there may be subtle ways in which my attitude to privacy differs from that of some other American citizens, namely, the ones who just happened to be born here and never left. As I sometimes say during presentations about privacy to American audiences: "Unlike most of you, I passed a test to be here." (This line gets a big laugh, even among very conservative audiences, which I take as a sign of the natural good humor and empathy of the American public.)