Janie Slaven: LEFT TO MY OWN DEVICES: Don't be the turkey this shopping season

Nov. 23—Turkeys have gotten a bad rap. See this week's subtitle, which echoes that by negatively connoting the North American bird known as Meleagris in taxonomy circles. Somehow, this grandest of birds used for sustenance has been demeaned over time. Know that you're not being flattered if someone admonishes you to stop being a turkey. It's not a positive in Rotten Tomatoes parlance to characterize a movie as "so-o-ome turkey." When you brag up an achievement, maybe showing off your latest Wheel of Fortune guesses, and you're met with "sure ... that game's a real turkey shoot" it's not the high-five you may believe it to be.

One piece of lore is that we bestow these unsavory meanings to the wattled beasts because of their illogical, seemingly dumb, behaviors. Turkeys are known, for example, to attack indiscriminately when they feel threatened, even when viewing their own likeness in a mirror. Going headstrong at oneself is a laughable visual. It also results in the poor bird's snood getting pummeled in the process. They have a strange proclivity to stare at the sky. In myth, that action has devolved into another example of its stupidness since there are accounts of the poor birds drowning when they do this during a rainstorm. To my knowledge—after a week's poking around online—this uncontrolled, self-induced avicide has never been recorded.

There are positives associated with this Thursday's showstopper, too. You may include in this the story that Benjamin Franklin promoted the turkey as our national bird. He's on record as being anti-bald eagle. That's true. In a letter to his daughter, who sided with the bald eagle's representation, he explained that eagles are "of bad moral character." He went on that the bald eagle tends to "not get his living honestly" because they're "too lazy to fish." Instead, they perch and watch for lesser birds to snag their prey and then attack those birds absconding with the stolen, fresh catch. So far, in 2022 or so, these traits sound pretty much on point with the American way, as commentary. In comparison, and here's where the turkey championing lore was born, Franklin concluded to his daughter that the turkey is "a much more respectable bird" than eagles, and that turkeys are "true original native[s] of America." Franklin wasn't so much for the tasty beast being the newborn country's symbol as he was against the bald eagle.

That positivity debunked, we still attribute goodness to the turkey outside of its basted being. To "talk turkey" implies a straight shooter. You're honest, maybe curt, but all in all when you talk turkey you've shown credibility and conviction. For the millions who have overcome addictions, from smoking to drinking, philandering or retail "therapy," a surge of which is coming, going "cold turkey" can be an admirable, if effective, approach. Bona fide twelve-steppers may pooh-pooh the positive spin characterized by our near-miss American mascot, but I eke out some advantage to it when it works.

For me, today, and as a comment on how to survive the holidays and all their consumerism, my reliance on the nourishing bird that's fed us for 1,000 years leans back to the negative as I warn you to not be a turkey. I mean that to steer you away from its negative connotation, and within the shopping lane, whether online or IRL, in real life. Don't be a turkey this season when it comes to your security and privacy.

Every single time that you use a payment card, including when you get cash to spend in the old-fashioned way for those who do that, you are taking a security risk. If you're like me and relish in the new manner of payments—no cards nor cash, but waving your smartphone around carefree, willy and nilly—the same risk goes. The bad guys are salivating at this festive time of the year. Plus, because all analysts' signs point to this being a recent record-setting year of spending, despite the perceived economical nadir we're in, that risk is compounded. We've been able to spend as much as ever even when cooped up during the global pandemic. Yet, for some likely psychological reason we're rarin' to go this year above those past, in terms of transactions.

If I can save just one person from enduring just one, unwelcomed, likely initially ignored call from "your bank's fraud department," then my final couple hundred words are worth my yammering and your reading. Here are the low-hanging fruits of securing your private and financial information this season.

Update your operating system and software. You've ignored that little indicator on your phone or laptop that's meant to excite you into ... What, clicking a few times and waiting a few moments? How oppressive?! Just do it. Get up-to-date, and don't have that embarrassing lament when you're hacked.

Conform with the asterisks. As you complete the online purchase forms, there are two types of responses: required, and risky. Well, they're both risky. But, if you ignore all the inputs sought that do not reflect that asterisk—the extraneous, marketing data call that ends up who-knows-where—you'll likely save time, energy, spam, and security and privacy risks.

"Credit" card stands for credible. Not really. Nor do "debit" cards stand for daring, disastrous, or dilemmas. However, if you remember these mnemonic devices to reflect a green light for credit card transactions and a red light for debit cards, you'll spare yourself some risk. Not only is it more likely that your credit cards have more consumer protection, but they are also not directly tied to your bank accounts.

Keep learning. The best way to not be a turkey this year, in its more negative meaning, is to be an informed consumer. Do that and you'll have a Happy Thanksgiving, as I wish for you and yours.

Ed Zuger is a professor of cybersecurity, an attorney, and a trained ethicist. Reach him at edzugeresq@gmail.com.