

Many consumers, the company has found, have basically thrown up their hands in resignation, concluding that there’s no way out of the modern surveillance economy. The problem for a company like DuckDuckGo, then, isn’t making people care about privacy it’s convincing them that privacy is possible. According to some estimates, only a tiny minority of users are choosing to allow tracking. Perhaps most telling are the early returns on Apple’s new App Tracking Transparency system, which prompts iOS users to opt in to being tracked by third-party apps rather than handing over their data by default, as has long been standard. One recent survey found that “93 percent of Americans would switch to a company that prioritizes data privacy if given the option.” Another reported that 57 percent of Americans would give up personalization in exchange for privacy. Public polling backs that up, though the results vary based on how the question is asked. According to the company’s market research, just about every demographic wants more data privacy: young, old, male, female, urban, rural. It turns out DuckDuckGo-itself based in Valley Forge, PA, about 90 miles east of Route 15-knew something I didn’t. I found it hard to imagine that the other drivers on the road were really the audience for an internet company that occupies a very specific niche.

Far more typical are road signs advertising a fireworks store, a sex shop, or Donald Trump. Highways in and out of Silicon Valley may be lined with billboards advertising startups, where they can be easily spied by VCs and other industry influencers, but the post-industrial communities hugging the Susquehanna River will never be confused with Palo Alto.

The sight of a tech company on a billboard in rural Pennsylvania was surprising enough to lodge in my memory. It was the logo for DuckDuckGo, the privacy-focused search engine, along with a message: “Tired of Being Tracked Online? We Can Help.” I was driving up through Pennsylvania last summer, somewhere along US Route 15 between Harrisburg and Williamsport, when I saw a familiar face: a goofy cartoon duck wearing a green bowtie.
