Your fears are warranted. We're listening all the time. We've stuff microphones underneath the seat and we're recording every bowel movement you have. We've counted the times you've had a movement in a day, week, month, etc. We have records of all your movements.
When there's someone next to you in the stall, he's taking notes. He's writing down how long it takes you to pass your fecal matter. He's writing down if you've had to force it out or whether you were holding it in and gave birth to a large explosion of gas and night-before chili and beer excrement.
These statistics have been recorded and we have graphs of your movements. We've plotted graphs, pie charts, bar charts, and GANTT charts of how many more years of fecal matter will be forced out of your sphincter.
WE ARE WATCHING YOU POOP.
I knew it! I figured you bastards were watching me, too. And all this time, I thought you were only watching guys like me for how many times I whack off!
Sorry, the whacking off behavioral studies have been passed over to the GAY squad. We only handle fecal matter.
All sounds made when shitting are passed on into another dimension and create new life forces that will one day attack, and destroy human civilization as we know it.