My first facial-recognition moment—my instant of facial-recognition recognition, you might say—happened when I arrived late on a flight from Europe and carried myself to the Global Entry kiosks. For years the Global Entry process, an accelerated automatic immigration check for prescreened travelers, began with a passport and fingerprint scan. This time, the screen told me simply to stand in a frame for a picture: Click. The image was unflattering—or maybe very flattering of somebody who had spent eight hours in an airplane seat. It was with a chill, then, that I watched my personal information appear onscreen: name, passport number, flight. The computer, like a paparazzo stalking small celebrities, had recognized me from one awful photo. Unlike a paparazzo, it had linked this recognition to a governmental file. Read more at Vogue.