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So if the feds have been doing this on a grand scale for years, why have they never foiled any plots? Sure, they may be paying people to “monitor” communications, but that doesn’t mean they are producing any results.

That's the crux of all this. The Fed's left hand never knows what the right foot is doing and vice versa. Even if they can record all phone calls then what? What are they doing with all that info on everybody? they're certainly not using it for anything even if they know how to utilize the information they might have.

When there is a gov't agent assigned to every single person to monitor what that person is doing, day-in and day-out, then I won't make fun of the tin-foil alramists. So you know, the NSA would need like 200+ million agents to turn around and monitor the other 200+ million adults. Wake me up when we get to that point (which will never happen).

Even if they can record all phone calls then what? What are they doing with all that info on everybody? they're certainly not using it for anything even if they know how to utilize the information they might have.

"The chase continues north in the city! Police helicopters are converging on Avenue 87 and Elm Grove Park!"
Granger nodded. "They're faking. You threw them off at the river. They can't admit it.
They know they can hold their audience only so long. The show's got to have a snap ending, quick! If they started searching the whole damn river it might take all night.
So they're sniffing for a scape-goat to end things with a bang. Watch. They'll catch Montag in the next five minutes!
"But how--"
"Watch."
The camera, hovering in the belly of a helicopter, now swung down at an empty street.
"See that?" whispered Granger. "It'll be you; right up at the end of that street is our victim. See how our camera is coming in? Building the scene. Suspense. Long shot.
Right now, some poor fellow is out for a walk. A rarity. An odd one. Don't think the police don't know the habits of queer ducks like that, men who walk mornings for the hell of it, or for reasons of insomnia Anyway, the police have had him charted for months, years. Never know when that sort of information might be handy. And today, it turns out, it's very usable indeed. It saves face. Oh, God, look there!"
The men at the fire bent forward.
On the screen, a man turned a corner. The Mechanical Hound rushed forward into the viewer, suddenly. The helicopter light shot down a dozen brilliant pillars that built a cage all about the man.
A voice cried, "There's Montag! The search is done!"
The innocent man stood bewildered, a cigarette burning in his hand. He stared at the Hound, not knowing what it was. He probably never knew. He glanced up at the sky and the wailing sirens. The cameras rushed down. The Hound leapt up into the air with a rhythm and a sense of timing that was incredibly beautiful. Its needle shot out.
It was suspended for a moment in their gaze, as if to give the vast audience time to appreciate everything, the raw look of the victim's face, the empty street, the steel animal a bullet nosing the target.
"Montag, don't move!" said a voice from the sky.
The camera fell upon the victim, even as did the Hound. Both reached him simultaneously. The victim was seized by Hound and camera in a great spidering, clenching grip. He screamed. He screamed. He screamed!
Blackout.
Silence.
Darkness.