Most people drive through life unaffected by red-light cameras. But have you ever thought about how influential and powerful they can be? You run the red light, the camera flashes, you think, “Oh god” and say a quick prayer, but two weeks later the ticket comes in the mail along with photographic proof of your violation. You pay the godforsaken ticket and move on with your life. You can’t cry your way out of it, or apologize and claim that you were late for church. The picture proves the driver broke the law. It’s the camera’s job. Hate the game, not the player.

But what about the passengers? They weren’t breaking the law — they were innocent bystanders. Don’t they have the right to remain out of the incident entirely? The driver broke the law, so therefore his right to privacy is temporarily suspended for the purpose of law enforcement.

In my WRIT340 class, which focuses on legal writing, we discussed an incident in 2004 where an unsuspecting husband received a ticket in the mail. When he looked at the picture he realized that a strange man was sitting in the passenger seat next to his lawfully wedded wife. A traffic violation cost the woman a ticket for more than $300 and her marriage — her husband filed for divorce.

But what about the poor guy she had the affair with? Maybe he had no idea she was married. The camera exposed his identity and his location, causing an entire problem that had nothing to do with running the red light. He didn’t break the law.

What do you think about these silly cameras now?

In my class, we concluded that as technology gets more and more advanced, we give up more and more of our right to privacy.

In 1890, Samuel Warren and Louis Brandeis published “The Right to Privacy” in the Harvard Law Review. The 11-page essay examines how photographs infringe upon one’s right to privacy. In 1890 the camera was new technology and its ability to expose people in a photograph was a scary thought.

Today cameras don’t phase many people. I don’t think about who is going to look through my album on Facebook, nor do I care. I don’t alter my behavior in a building with security cameras. Until my class had a discussion about it, I had never thought about how much I am exposed via security cameras, Facebook photos or otherwise. Now that is a scary thought: Being seen by the eye of the camera is natural for me.

Yet when I start to think about it, the exposure brought on by the constant flow of images might be natural but I don’t necessarily want to be exposed. But is it too late to opt out of things that might compromise my right to privacy, such as my cell phone or my computer? I couldn’t survive without either, so I give up my privacy in exchange for the ability to communicate. Is that a fair trade?

Take text messaging for instance. When you send a text, no matter what it says, you give up all control over it. Even though you and your thoughts created the text, you no longer have rights over it.  Whoever you send it to has the power to show other people, save it, delete it, copy and paste it elsewhere, etc. Do you think about this when you send a text, or think about how often you share others’ texts with your friends? The only way to remain in control is to not send text messages. The same goes for e-mail and other mediums through which you control your own exposure.

But forms of personal exposure can occur that are beyond your control, such as the red-light incident. I reiterate myself: Shouldn’t our right to privacy protect us from unwanted exposure — despite advances in technology?

Rebecca Lett is a junior majoring in print journalism and economics. Her column, “Staying Connected,” runs Thursdays.