A view from Brussels: Einstein's relativity applied to privacy

The first part of Einstein's theory of relativity explains that time, space and motion are not fixed quantities but depend on the observer's frame of reference. The second part states that, to the contrary, the speed of light stays constant and gravity arises from mass bending spacetime.

During the recent IAPP UK Intensive 2026 in London, Cambridge Classics Professor Emerita and Fellow of Newnham College Mary Beard and author Tiffany Jenkins both spoke from the keynote stage about the roots and evolution of the concept of privacy across the ages. Their eloquent depiction resonates with Einstein's notion and privacy is, perhaps, relative. Although, much like time, space and motion, it is essential. 

Privacy was at times seen as a suspicious expectation, an instrument to disguise questionable behavior. For many centuries, privacy was not even an expectation to begin with. Beard and Jenkins both gave examples from Roman times and the 17th French monarchy that attest to that.

Put very simply, privacy emerged as a discrete concept in western Europe democracies after the Second World War and started to be codified in the 1980s. Now, about 80% of the world's population is covered by some form of privacy law.

This tells us that privacy is a potent yet very recent notion in the vast timeline of humanity. Beard and Jenkins' presentations raised a tricky question in my mind: what is the historical legitimacy of a concept the lifespan of which is merely a dot on a page? Is the expectation of privacy in our societal normative structure meant to stay or is it a parenthesis of the times — due to cultural evolution — that could be subject to further evolution, bringing it again to state of lesser importance? 

I asked generative artificial intelligence to help me think through that paradigm. I didn't ask for an answer, I asked for more questions to add to my brainstorming:

• Historically, privacy could be viewed as suspicious or a cover for wrongdoing. How does that legacy surface today in public safety debates — around encryption, anonymity or counterterrorism, for example — and what guardrails prevent abuse of that suspicion?
• What are the leading indicators that privacy is truly a social norm — for example, consumer behavior under real trade‑offs, employee expectations, court doctrine or product defaults — and how would we measure regression?
• If privacy can be seen as concealing questionable behavior, how can institutions reframe privacy as enabling dignity, autonomy and innovation — without slipping into performative transparency that erodes trust?
• If privacy is historically contingent and relatively recent, what criteria should determine whether it becomes, or remains, a societal norm versus a contextual privilege — for example, tied to citizenship, employment or class?

These complex questions all deserve proper reflection and debate. A compelling trait they have in common, though, is that they all point to the underlying role privacy plays in supporting the collective good and robustness of our societies.