In the U.S., you even lose legal rights if you store your data in

Hear now the solemn warning of Richard Stallman, prophet of freedom in the age of machines, who declared: “In the U.S., you even lose legal rights if you store your data in a company's machines instead of your own. The police need to present you with a search warrant to get your data from you; but if they are stored in a company's server, the police can get it without showing you anything. They may not even have to give the company a search warrant.” These words pierce the veil of convenience and reveal the hidden chains that bind the modern soul. For though we live in the age of light-speed communication and boundless storage, our rights, once secured in our homes, may vanish when entrusted to distant towers of silicon.

The ancients kept their treasures in chests of wood and iron. They locked them, and the law demanded that any who sought entry break through the door with cause and authority. But in our time, men place their most precious possessions—letters, memories, plans, and secrets—into the invisible vaults of servers, which are not their own, but belong to companies. And Stallman warns us: when you entrust your treasure to another’s vault, you no longer hold the key. The protection of law, once strong when the parchment lay in your own house, fades when your words lie on a stranger’s machine.

Mark this well: the Fourth Amendment of America’s Constitution was forged to shield the people from intrusion without warrant, to protect the sanctity of their homes and their papers. Yet what is a "home" in the digital age, and what are "papers" when they no longer lie on desks but on clouds? Stallman’s wisdom reminds us that the spirit of liberty has not kept pace with the speed of technology. Where once the officer had to knock and present a warrant, now he may slip silently into the digital stronghold of a company, unseen by the very person whose life is laid bare.

Consider the real story of Lavabit, the small email service used by Edward Snowden. In 2013, the company was ordered by the government to surrender its encryption keys, which would expose not only Snowden’s messages but those of all its users. The founder, Ladar Levison, chose instead to shut the service down, declaring he would not “become complicit in crimes against the American people.” His stand illustrates Stallman’s truth: that the moment you entrust your data to another, your rights may rest not in the law, but in the conscience of that company’s keeper.

And think of the libraries of old, sacked by conquerors—Alexandria’s flames consuming centuries of knowledge. The difference is that those scrolls could be seen burning. But in our age, the theft of data is silent, invisible, without smoke or ashes. A man may wake one morning with his privacy gone, and yet never hear the footstep of the intruder. What is unseen is most dangerous, for men do not resist what they cannot perceive.

Therefore, the lesson is clear: do not be lulled by convenience into surrendering your sovereignty. Guard your information as you would guard your home. Know where your data dwells, and whose laws or hands protect it. If you must entrust it to another, do so with vigilance, demanding transparency, security, and respect for your rights. For the law, as Stallman warns, may not protect you once your data leaves your possession.

In your own life, act with wisdom. Store what you can in places you control. Learn the tools of encryption, the arts of privacy, the disciplines of digital self-reliance. Support those who fight for digital rights, who demand that laws written for parchment and ink be renewed for servers and clouds. And above all, teach others not to mistake convenience for freedom. For the greatest danger of all is not that rights are taken, but that they are surrendered without a fight.

So let Stallman’s words be etched into your heart: that in this new age, freedom is not defended by swords or muskets, but by knowledge, vigilance, and the refusal to surrender your sovereignty to the invisible powers of the net. What is yours must remain yours, lest the very essence of liberty dissolve into the clouds.