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"Meta’s reported plans to introduce this technology into broadly available consumer products is a red line society must not cross."
The ACLU and a coalition of 75 other rights organizations on Tuesday issued a warning to tech giant Meta about its plan to install facial recognition technology onto its artificial intelligence-powered eyeglasses.
In a letter organized by the ACLU, the ACLU of Massachusetts, and the New York Civil Liberties Union (NYCLU), the groups said adding facial recognition technology to Meta's Ray-Ban and Oakley glasses would pose a grave threat to Americans' privacy.
"People should be able to move through their daily lives," the letter states, "without fear that stalkers, scammers, abusers, federal agents, and activists across the political spectrum are silently and invisibly verifying their identities and potentially matching their names to a wealth of readily available data about their habits, hobbies, relationships, health, and behaviors."
When it comes to specific dangers posed by embedding this technology into the company's products, the letter points to the potential for scammers to use it to "find out, quickly and in complete stealth, not just the name of the person sitting next to them on the subway—but their address, marital status, social media profiles, workplace, income, hobbies, health information, and habits."
Because of this, the letter says that "Meta’s reported plans to introduce this technology into broadly available consumer products is a red line society must not cross."
Blocking facial recognization technology from Meta glasses "is a prerequisite for a free and safe society," reads the letter.
The letter concludes with a series of demands, including that Meta stop any plans to attach facial recognition technology to its products; publicly disclose any past instances of Meta glasses being used for stalking and harassment; and reveal any "past or ongoing" discussions with law enforcement agencies such as US Immigration and Customs Enforcement about deploying the technology.
Cody Venzke, senior staff attorney working on surveillance, privacy, and technology issues for the ACLU, described facial recognition technology as "inherently invasive and unethical," and said adding it to a widely available consumer product "would vastly increase the risk of harm to individuals, families, and our democracy itself."
Kade Crockford, director of technology and justice programs at the ACLU of Massachusetts, argued that "the American people have not consented to this massive invasion of privacy," which is why Meta must abandon plans to deploy it.
"Stalkers and scammers would have a field day with this technology," Crockford said. "Federal agents could use it to harass and intimidate their critics. It’s dangerous and dystopian, and Meta must disavow it."
The real engine of inequality is structural: corporate and financial practices that concentrate wealth among shareholders while shortchanging other stakeholders who should be benefiting from corporate profits
Targeting billionaires with California’s proposed wealth tax is an eye-catching idea, but perhaps the real problem is how some of these people become billionaires in the first place.
California has long eyed taxing the ultra rich. In 2024, Assembly Bill 259, backed by progressive Democrats and unions like the California Federation of Teachers, sought annual wealth taxes but was blocked by centrist Democrats, business groups, and Gov. Gavin Newsom.
Now, advocates are going for a one-time 5% levy on roughly 200 billionaires, covering everything they own—stocks, businesses, art, private islands, personal spacecraft, even intellectual property—basically the whole enchilada if they were state residents on January 1, 2026. Service Employees International Union United Healthcare Workers West estimates the tax could raise $100 billion for health and social services.
Backers call it a fair share. Critics cite economic, legal, and retroactive risks.
A one-time California wealth tax might dent the personal fortunes of the Zuckerbergs and Cooks, but it does nothing to slow the corporate machinery that grinds on to produce still more of them.
To many, the logic seems straightforward: Billionaires have absurd, even toxic amounts of money. The richest 1% now own more than the bottom 90% combined. Economists Emmanuel Saez and Gabriel Zucman note that middle- and working-class Americans often pay higher effective tax rates than the super rich, whose California fortunes grew over $2 trillion in just a few years.
Why not tax them?
Economist William Lazonick, a long-time critic of the way many US corporations are run, argues that targeting individual fortunes treats the symptom, not the disease. The real engine of inequality is structural: corporate and financial practices that concentrate wealth among shareholders while shortchanging other stakeholders who should be benefiting from corporate profits—and too often creating little of real value to society.
Most billionaires don’t “earn” their fortunes through work. They build wealth by owning stock in corporations. Executives and boards pump up dividends and stock prices, often using stock buybacks, which rocket their own pay into the stratosphere. Managers and professionals with stock options or stock awards can cash in too—but only if they keep their jobs. Everyone else—most workers and the wider public that depends on taxing corporate profits to fund schools, roads, and healthcare—gets left behind.
This shareholder-first model (famously called “the dumbest idea in the world” by former GE CEO Jack Welch), encourages executives and investors to treat companies like giant ATMs, pulling money out rather than reinvesting profits to create lasting value.
Stock buybacks and ownership stakes that line the pockets of executives at the expense of employees, communities, or innovation are a modern form of illth.
Consider Mark Zuckerberg. Nearly all of his mind-boggling fortune—the kind that just bought him a record-smashing $170 million mansion in Miami-Dade County near Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump, and is funding a bombproof bunker-complex in Kauai that disturbs local wildlife—comes straight from owning stock in Meta Platforms. Meta has spent nearly $200 billion on stock buybacks in the past five years. Those buybacks have fattened the wallets of shareholders, including Meta’s top executives and professionals, while leaving the rest of society out of the gains (Meta is famous for its tax-dodging schemes). With Meta, there aren’t any hedge-fund activists forcing Zuckerberg to do buybacks—they’re happening by choice.
Lazonick points out that “with all the profits that they have, they could be creating stable, high-paid jobs for the workers whom they employ—and thereby put in place powerful social conditions for collective and cumulative learning.” He adds, “Instead they are using stock-based pay, which is always volatile and which results in unstable and inequitable employment, to compete for talent.”
Now, even some of Meta’s highest-paid employees are feeling the squeeze. With stock-based pay being cut back and the AI revolution changing work, some of the people who once seemed untouchable are discovering that their jobs aren’t as secure as they thought.
Then there’s Tim Cook. Much of his wealth comes from stock-based compensation tied to the stock-market performance of Apple Inc. Under his leadership as CEO, Apple’s so-called “Capital Return Program” has spent hundreds of billions on stock buybacks—north of half a trillion dollars when counting programs from the early 2010s on—which have helped push up the share price and richly rewarded executives and shareholders. Lazonick has criticized this trend, arguing that Apple’s huge buybacks reward shareholders who have never provided finance to the company, instead of investing in value-creating workers who are the source of innovation. This is the activity that has Cook extremely rich—though he still buys his underwear on sale at Nordstrom, so it’s not entirely clear why he needs all this money.
His workers could sure use a bigger cut. It is a fact that many of the workers who build, sell, or support Apple products have faced stingy pay and labor issues: Some retail employees have pushed for higher minimum wages and better benefits as recently as 2022, and labor-rights groups have documented low wages and complaints about conditions among Apple’s supply-chain workers.
A one-time California wealth tax might dent the personal fortunes of the Zuckerbergs and Cooks, but it does nothing to slow the corporate machinery that grinds on to produce still more of them.
Historically, reformers recognized this issue. For example, Thorstein Veblen critiqued the ways elites could extract wealth while contributing less to society than might be expected. And early 20th-century progressives championed higher corporate taxes and antitrust laws because they understood that inequality was more structural than individual.
This is what 19th-century critic John Ruskin had in mind when he coined the term “illth.” For Ruskin, true wealth, or “weal,” promotes everyone’s health and prosperity. Illth, by contrast, amasses when money is extracted or hoarded without focusing on social value. Stock buybacks and ownership stakes that line the pockets of executives at the expense of employees, communities, or innovation are a modern form of illth.
We don’t want illth.
Now let’s bring in someone we can all relate to—Taylor Swift. Her fortune comes from her creativity, work, and audience engagement. She writes songs, records albums, tours, sells merchandise, and negotiates brand deals. Yes, corporate structures like Ticketmaster’s oligopoly complicate matters—but Swift herself isn’t the CEO of a company extracting illth through financial engineering. Taxing her personal wealth dramatizes the issue without addressing its source.
Policies aimed at corporate engines of inequality, rather than individual fortunes, could reshape the system itself. Lazonick and others have recommended a variety of approaches:
And last, but not least:
As Lazonick sees it, whether it happens at the federal, state, or local level, government policy should focus on curbing predatory value extraction and promoting what he calls “progressive value creation”—which means passing laws to stop corporations from being looted, a key source of the exploding wealth of the mega rich. “From this position of regulatory power,” he advises, “we should then decide how the top 0.1% should be taxed.”
The real work, from this perspective, is reforming the structures that concentrate wealth. If we want an economy that fosters health, innovation, and opportunity instead of illth, chasing Taylor Swift won’t cut it. We need to start regulating the corporate engines behind her peers’ billions
If Democrats want to regain trust ahead of the 2026 elections, they need to show they are willing to take on Big Tech with the urgency that everyday Americans are demanding.
One year ago, Mark Zuckerberg, Elon Musk, and Jeff Bezos got front-row seats at President Donald Trump’s inauguration. The images of CEOs enjoying better seats than congressional leaders foreshadowed exactly how much access and influence Big Tech would wield in the Trump White House.
Since entering office, Trump has repeatedly signaled deference to a small group of powerful technology executives, aided by advisors like AI czar David Sacks who have spent their careers profiting from the industry. With Trump’s blessing, companies like NVIDIA are now poised to profit from sales of advanced chips to China, America’s foremost strategic competitor. That choice exposes a fundamental contradiction at the heart of the administration’s AI policy: prioritizing short-term corporate gains over long-term public interests.
In December, Trump signed an executive order threatening states for enacting AI safety laws without offering a credible federal framework to replace them. It was yet another misuse of executive power—and an industry giveaway disguised as a competitiveness strategy. By threatening states for acting while offering no federal safeguards in return, the order attempts to clear the field for companies that have spent years lobbying against meaningful accountability.
While Republicans move to shield companies from accountability and block reasonable state action without offering meaningful protections, Democrats can articulate a smarter approach.
Supporters argue that preemption is necessary to help the United States compete with China. But if that’s true, why is the president offering the Chinese Communist Party access to superior American technology and a clear path to win the AI race?
That contradiction hasn’t gone unnoticed, even inside Trump’s own coalition. Indeed, most Americans continue to express deep concern about Trump’s growing alignment with Silicon Valley.
Still, Trump has only doubled down, pushing a vision of global “tech dominance” with little regard for the real-world consequences of unprecedented AI investment. Even Republicans who were once vocal critics of Big Tech are now taking money from Meta and other companies to accelerate AI on industry-friendly terms.
For Democrats, this should be a moment of clarity—and a moment to lead. While many lawmakers have raised legitimate concerns about AI’s risks, the party’s response has too often leaned on commissions, task forces, and studies when the public is asking for clear rules and accountability.
Democrats must ask themselves: if Big Tech is already working overtime to block meaningful safeguards, why not meet the moment by standing clearly on the side of consumers, parents, and workers? Voters are asking for real leadership, but all they are seeing is a familiar pattern: billion-dollar companies consolidating power, writing the rules, and dodging accountability, leaving children, workers, and democratic institutions to deal with the consequences.
The 2024 election underscored a deeper challenge for Democrats than economic uncertainty or flawed candidates. Many voters struggled to see a coherent vision for the future under Democratic leadership. That vacuum has allowed Republicans to posture as pro-consumer and pro-family while quietly shielding powerful companies from accountability.
The debate over AI offers Democrats a chance to do better. While Republicans move to shield companies from accountability and block reasonable state action without offering meaningful protections, Democrats can articulate a smarter approach: clear expectations for safety; real liability when technology causes harm; serious preparation for economic disruption; and responsible planning for AI’s massive energy demands.
AI is no longer an abstract idea; its impacts are already being felt. But without clear rules, it risks reshaping our economy, labor markets, and democratic institutions in ways that undermine security, opportunity, and trust. When elected leaders prioritize the agendas of their corporate executives over the long-term public interest, trust erodes—not just in institutions, but in innovation itself.
That erosion of trust is already visible. Workers worry about job displacement, recent graduates struggle to enter a rapidly-changing workforce, and parents fear how algorithmic manipulation and AI-generated deepfakes will shape their children’s reality. These concerns aren’t partisan. This shared national anxiety goes to the heart of the American experiment.
If Democrats want to regain trust ahead of the 2026 elections, they need to show they are willing to take on Big Tech with the urgency that everyday Americans are demanding. That means recognizing that AI isn’t just another talking point, and pursuing strong, enforceable standards now—so its extraordinary potential strengthens the middle class, improves our children’s future, and reinforces democratic institutions rather than undermining them.