People are stunned to hear that one company has data files on

Hear the warning voice of Ralph Nader, a man who long stood guard against the excesses of power, who declared: “People are stunned to hear that one company has data files on 185 million Americans.” These words cut like a blade through complacency, for they remind us of a truth both modern and ancient: that knowledge is power, and when too much knowledge rests in the hands of the few, the freedom of the many is imperiled.

The data file is not so different from the scrolls and ledgers of old. In the days of kings and emperors, records were kept—taxes owed, lands held, names of the loyal and the disloyal. Those who controlled the records controlled the people. Yet the ledgers of the past were bound by parchment and ink, limited in scope and reach. In our age, the company database expands beyond all imagining, storing the habits, desires, debts, and secrets of millions. Where once a ruler might know the names of his subjects, now a corporation may know the very patterns of their lives.

Nader spoke these words as a critic of unchecked corporate power, at a time when Americans first awoke to the dangers of mass surveillance by private entities. To many, the revelation was shocking: that a single firm, without crown or army, could know more about the citizens than their own government, holding in its vaults files that defined identity, opportunity, and reputation. The people were not asked for consent, nor told what was recorded. It was power gathered quietly, behind closed doors.

History offers chilling examples of what such knowledge can do. In East Germany, the Stasi collected endless records on its citizens, watching, listening, noting even whispered doubts. A people suffocated beneath the weight of their own files. Though this was the work of a government, the lesson is clear: whether state or company, concentrated knowledge breeds concentrated power, and concentrated power, unchecked, becomes tyranny.

Yet Nader’s words are not only a cry of fear; they are also a call to awareness. He does not say that knowledge itself is evil, nor that information should not be gathered. Rather, he reminds us that the scale of knowledge, when placed in the hands of a single entity, demands scrutiny, accountability, and limits. For while information can serve the common good—detecting fraud, enabling services, improving lives—it can also be wielded as a weapon, a leash upon freedom.

The lesson for you, O seeker, is this: never give away your information lightly. Treat your privacy as you would your land or your wealth, for it is no less precious. Ask who holds your data, why they hold it, and how it is used. Demand transparency from the mighty, lest their hidden files become the chains of your tomorrow. For freedom is not lost all at once—it is surrendered bit by bit, until the file that defines you belongs not to you, but to another.

Practical steps follow: guard what you share, and teach others to do the same. Support laws and leaders who protect privacy, not those who sell it. Choose services that honor transparency. And above all, remain vigilant, for the struggle between liberty and control is eternal, merely changing its form with the ages.

Thus, remember Ralph Nader’s words: “One company has data files on 185 million Americans.” It is both revelation and warning, a reminder that in the age of information, the greatest treasure is not gold or oil, but data. And he who owns it, if unchecked, may own the very lives of those it describes. Guard your freedom, then, by guarding your information—for in the end, they are one and the same.