Think about the Edward Snowden situation. Day Zero: Everyone in America knew that all of their telephone calls were located and logged, either by the phone companies or the government. And everyone really knew that their Internet traffic was logged, analyzed and used, again, either by ISPs, Google, Microsoft or the government. Day One: Mr. Snowden's revelation appeared in a newspaper, basically confirming what others had already speculated, and what U.S. citizens knew. Nothing else changed. We simply found out it was true. So now newscasters are called Snowden America's "most wanted" criminal, and even Snowden is putting himself out there as a super whistle blower. Well, think about that, too. Others have divulged government secrets before, too. And their secrets were REALLY secrets—we had no idea the government was supplying weapons to Iran, in violation of an arms embargo. We also didn't didn't know that our politicians lied about significant decisions made in connection southeast Asian countries, including Vietnam. Snowden's revelations are entirely different—what he "revealed" was authorized by Congress, our representatives. You might say that someone lied, but really they mostly just didn't mention the surveillance. So how big is Snowden's fame, really? Between the media's need to promote the story as historic and significant, and Snowden's self-aggrandizement, this moment in history has grown larger than it really is. Yes, we still DO need to debate the original Congressional vote to approve this surveillance (Couldn't the government have left the data with the telecom companies, and queried it only when needed?), but we also need to step back and put a perspective on the situation.