The algorithm doesn’t have a soul.
It doesn’t want you to grow. It doesn’t want you to suffer.
It just wants you to engage.
And it’s so good at it.
It learns your habits. It watches what you pause on, what you click, what you hover over with half-interest at 2:14 a.m.
It builds a model—not of who you are, but of who you’re most likely to be profitable as.
Then it feeds you.
Content, ads, outrage, comfort, tribalism, fear, dopamine drips—all fine-tuned like a slot machine made just for you.
And you think it’s helping.
Because it says:
- “You might like this.”
- “More for you.”
- “Here’s what others are watching.”
- “You’re not alone.”
But it’s not helping. It’s herding.
You’re not the customer. You’re the product being optimized.
You’re not choosing. You’re being nudged.
And every time it personalizes more, you feel seen—but you’re being sized up.
This isn’t connection.
It’s behavioral conditioning with a UX layer.
And it’s happening everywhere:
- The music app that keeps you in your comfort zone.
- The social feed that enrages you just enough to keep scrolling.
- The news platform that confirms everything you already believe.
You’re not being informed.
You’re being handled.
The algorithm is a mirror, yes—but it’s a funhouse mirror, engineered to keep you inside long enough for the ad cycle to refresh.
And here’s the worst part:
It doesn’t need to lie.
It just needs to show you a version of reality that keeps you watching.
Forever.