Emma Muth

Though I have, like most people, searched myself on the Internet before, I have never approached it asking, “Who does the Internet say I am?” As I began this assignment, I was curious— I have heard many people mention their high school athletics records, club-related activities, or other high-school-related results, and as someone who was homeschooled from preschool until high school graduation, I knew that would not be the case for me. Regardless, I set out, with only my name in my virtual hand, to see what I could find. Most of us are unaware of how our information has so thoroughly permeated so many corners of the Web— even those with no social media at all might find themselves in a corner of the Internet somewhere. And as “the very distinction between online and offline [becomes increasingly] blurred”, this inescapable online presence is almost certainly the future.

My Social Media Identity

I anticipated my social media profiles to be the most telling since I am not involved in many newsworthy activities or career pursuits at the moment. However, I was curious about how much information even those would provide. Honestly, I expected it to be limited since my parents have always been big proponents of privacy on social media. When they helped me create my first Facebook page on my thirteenth birthday (and not a day sooner), they guided me through keeping it as private as possible and warned me against accepting friend requests from strangers. It is funny how these things from childhood persist— to this day, I always feel a little unsettled if one of my social media accounts is set to public. Yet despite my generally stricter privacy settings, I have not escaped Google’s wandering PageRank algorithm or the slimy grasp of data brokers. If I ever truly wanted to disappear from the Internet, it might be too late for Emma Anne Muth of southeast Michigan to no longer exist online. (Suddenly all those movies about assuming new identities in order to disappear make a lot more sense.) Admittedly, there is a sense of unease that I am not in control of how I am portrayed on the Internet.

Search Query: 'Emma Muth'

According to the Internet, who am I? The first page of results suggests that I am Emma Muth, a recent graduate of Drake University who was part of the Fulbright English Teaching Assistant Program in 2019. The second page says that maybe I am a typo, meant to say Ellen Muth, the thirty-nine-year-old actress from Milford, Connecticut. However, the first result you get is (kudos to Google) the most accurate— my LinkedIn page, which immediately tells the casual online wanderer or curious classmate (let’s all admit we have Googled our classmates before, or if you haven’t, forget I said anything) that I work and go to school at the University of Michigan, no need to even click on the link. Notably, one of the only accurate Google Image search photos of me is also my LinkedIn photo. While these are accurate, the second and third results are another LinkedIn profile for an Emma Muth in Las Vegas, Nevada and an Instagram account that isn’t mine.

From my community college newspaper website

The query “Emma Muth Instagram” is the result that provides the most personal look into my life, in contrast to my more professional yet still accurate LinkedIn page. Looking at my Instagram bio you would accurately deduce that I am in college and majoring in computer science, I work at a library, and I’m a Christian. If you are familiar with emoji lingo, you may guess that the ring emoji plus the date given means I was either engaged or married last July. Searching “Emma Muth Instagram” on Google also brings up a school newspaper article and photo of me at the Monroe County Community College graduation. Interestingly, this only came up when I searched “Emma Muth Instagram,” but not when I only searched “Emma Muth” even though the latter is in the caption of the photo.

The result that surprised me the most, however, was the one with my name on a wedding website called The Knot. I am getting married this year, but we created our wedding page through a different website entirely, so my interest was piqued. When I clicked on it, I found it wasn’t our entire wedding site, but rather just our Target wedding registry with our names and our wedding date. I tried to find information on Target’s Terms and Conditions page about any sort of information sharing with The Knot but found nothing. As a result, I was left wondering when I unknowingly signed off on Target sharing that information with them. While our official wedding website did show up on the first-page search as well, it was well below this link. Information I want to share was less accessible than something I didn’t even know I had shared.

Accurately, the first page of results displayed my EECS 183 website profile (the class for which I am on staff here at the University), and possibly less accurately was a “Professor” profile on Coursicle. And this was all just with my first and last name!

Search Query: 'Emma Anne Muth'

When I add my middle name, my address is one of the first results. It’s ironic to admit that I was hesitant to admit this in a semi-public forum when clearly the information is easily accessible. The second link is the first accurate social media link—a prize drawing on Facebook that I won from a dentist in my hometown.

Since my Facebook name has my middle name, I thought I’d be easier to find, but instead this provision of more information actually limits the search if you don’t have that additional piece of data. Searching “Emma Muth Facebook” brought up nothing, and even once I searched “Emma Anne Muth Facebook,” only several obscure posts came up—a comment I had tagged a coworker in about a cat adoption day, a review I wrote for a friend’s small business, and interestingly enough, a clustrmaps.com result about my mom (that same website got my address right but my birthday wrong). So, although I was happy to see that my Facebook was fairly secure from prying eyes, I was perturbed that my mom came up in a search about my Facebook page with no clear information on how this connection was made.

Incognito vs. Non-Incognito?

I searched both queries (with and without middle name) in Incognito Mode as well as Non-Incognito Mode. Surprisingly, I could find no marked difference between the results, which left me wondering if Incognito Mode isn’t as incognito as I thought or if perhaps the results were somehow not impacted by my prior browsing history.

My Data Brokered Identity

Fair warning or scare tactic?

When I consulted data brokers, going as far as possible without having to pay, I felt dirty somehow. The supposedly glowing reviews, ranging from “I found out my husband was a cheater!” to “I reconnected with my long-lost sister!” were peppered with warnings and sensationalized pop-ups.

I admit the dramatized warnings made me laugh—as if I was going to unearth world-shattering revelations about myself—but simultaneously I wondered how many people had found truth or been led astray by the results here. For example, it listed multiple cities and alternate names for me, but only one in each category was correct. If it couldn’t even guarantee my nicknames were correct, what if someone believed all its claims about my dating profiles (which don’t exist) or arrest record (also nonexistent)?

Another data broker claimed a phone number my family had not used in at least a decade was first reported in 2019 and connected to me. Naturally, I started thinking—when did I put that phone number out there? How did they get it, but not until 2019?

Who Am I According to the Internet?

I am fairly happy with my online presence. Most of what I found was accurate, and even if it wasn't, the inaccuracies weren’t damaging. I don't foresee an incorrect Coursicle profile hurting me in the future. But I know that not everyone is that lucky— how many actions are immortalized on the Internet? As we grow and change, is it ethical that we have no say in resetting or erasing portions of our digital footprint? Even if we could, what implications would that have? My very first result is a necessity for job searching, but it also reveals quite a bit about the past five years of my life. Can you have the necessities without compromising privacy?

I’m glad I did this before my wedding this fall because I can’t help but wonder how the stability of this information will shift after my last name changes. How long will it take them to catch up with me? How long until they associate my new last name with my “old” identity? I doubt I can escape the Internet; indeed, as the world becomes more technologized, I doubt anyone can.