New Jersey became the third state to ban surveillance pricing on Thursday, which means the algorithmically-optimized shakedown of individual shoppers is still legal in the rest of the country, and a notable number of those would like to keep it that way. The Fair Price Protection Act prohibits retailers from using your online activity, your location, your purchase history — everything that falls out of the browser as you comparison-shop — to set a different price for you than for the person beside you buying the identical box of cereal. It also pauses the rollout of electronic shelf labels for a year, which is the part grocers are going to fight hardest, and the part that tells you everything about what this technology is for.

Name the mechanism so we don’t have to pretend we’re surprised. A digital shelf label is a little screen where the paper tag used to be. It can be updated by a manager pushing a button from the back office. And if it can be updated by a manager pushing a button, it could soon be updated by an algorithm reading your license plate as you walk through the sliding door. The price on the shelf changes before you reach it, calibrated to what the retailer knows about you from the data broker that bought your phone’s pings, and you never see the old number. The electronic tag is not an efficiency; it is the tollbooth going dynamic.

Colorado’s governor vetoed an expansive version of this ban earlier this summer, and now we know whose lobbyists had the better summer. The argument against outlawing surveillance pricing is always the same: it lets businesses compete, it keeps prices efficient, it is a virtuous instrument of the market. What it actually lets a business do is charge you more because you are in a hurry, or because you live in a neighborhood with no other grocery store, or because you bought diapers last week and the algorithm has tagged you as someone who cannot easily switch stores. Efficiency for the balance sheet; extraction for everyone else.

The serial catalogue is short but instructive in its rapid growth. Maryland. Connecticut. New Jersey. A bill waiting on Kathy Hochul’s desk in New York. Three states and a pending fourth is not a wave — it is the start of one, and it is already drawing opposition proportional to the size of the toll the technology would collect. The same industry trade groups that fought unit pricing, fought open dating, fought the Nutrition Labeling and Education Act are now fighting the idea that your morning trip for milk should not be a proprietary auction on your own purchasing history.

What the law does not touch is loyalty programs. That carve-out is worth watching, because a loyalty card is surveillance pricing in a trenchcoat — a perfectly wearable piece of compliance theater that lets the grocer collect the same data, tier the same discounts, and call the differential a reward rather than a penalty. The line between “members-only savings” and “non-member surcharge” is a rhetorical choice, not an economic one. New Jersey’s law draws it in ink; the next round will decide whether the ink holds.