I think this will be the first time I’ve written about an acronym. When this two letter anomaly is pronounced Eye-Dee it would suggest two words. To some I.D. is short for an Identity Document, to others it’s simply representative of Identification. I wouldn’t argue these points with a law enforcement officer, if I were ever stopped and asked to produce my ID, in the USA. After all, we live in the time of ICE.
In psychology the Id is something different again. According to Freud, the famous father of psychoanalysis, we have an Id in all of us. Whenever our animalistic nature surfaces, we are presenting our Id. When I see a news video of someone being chased by a cop, I can tell they are instinctively running away from threat. When I’m licking an ice cream cone I can identify the Pleasure Principle. Babies are all Id, searching to fill their basic immediate needs every hour they’re awake. This search is always with us and it can become a challenge to temper these urges while fitting in with society.
Moving about in my world, I’ve had to show my identity papers a few times. I have a Canadian passport that I produce at border crossings. I also book flights using my passport. I have ID for driving and hospital/clinic visits. Stores love my payment & loyalty cards. I love my library card which gives me access to information about worlds that I will never visit in person. I can’t imagine living in a country where leaving your house without your ID would be a big mistake. In Canada I feel an aspect of freedom when I walk out my door, out and about in my friendly neighbourhood, with nothing to identify me but my persona. I never wish to present as a fellow to be feared or suspected.
In the last few years of my teaching career I was required to wear an employee card that had my picture on it. This ID hung on a lanyard looped around my neck. It was annoying as it swung there, so I tucked it into my breast pocket, or sometimes I jammed the whole contraption into a pant pocket. This reaction of mine would bother Principals at times, since their job was to police the school, keeping us safe from outsiders. In thirty years of teaching, I never faced an intruder. Lucky me, I guess.
Times change. Now I can turn on my computer by using face recognition software. I can open my car door with fingerprint ID. I can ask my television to go to my favourite series using voice command identification. Yet when I do my taxes, I have to use multi-stage passwords that I forget, have to replace, reload, and verify with an AI functionary and then again with a human representative. During this lengthy ‘for my own security’ process I am sometimes asked if my computer can serve as a ‘trusted device’. At that point, I feel like asking my MacBookAir to show me their badge..
