Your Future is Being Written by Algorithms—And You’re Helping Them

Okay, so it started with a random Google search: “Why do pigeons bob their heads?”
You were just killing time before a Zoom call, not trying to understand the universe or anything. But one click turned into a video, which turned into a Reddit thread, which turned into a documentary clip about urban wildlife. Next thing you know, you’re watching raccoons break into a Canadian donut shop at 2x speed.

Forty minutes later, your entire algorithm is transformed. Facebook is showing you slow-motion squirrels stealing GoPros. Your Instagram Explore tab is suddenly 60% animal cognition and 40% existential questions like “are humans just fancy animals?” You didn’t plan any of this. You didn’t choose it. But somehow… it all feels kind of perfect?

And you know what, it’s not a coincidence, the algorithm picked up on that. It noticed your vibe shift before you did. You weren’t just curious, you were overstimulated. Underwhelmed. It saw the micro-flicker of hesitation in your scrolling, the half-second longer you paused on that raccoon video, and it understood that you need something real. Something raw.

(By the way, this incident really happened to one of the Insta users)

Every Scroll is a Signal

Let’s get one thing straight: you’re not just watching content. You’re training AI.

Every time you open your phone, you’re having a conversation with an invisible intelligence, not with words, but with gestures. A scroll. A pause. A double tap. That moment you hover over a post without clicking? The algorithm notices. It’s not just learning what you like – it’s learning when, how, and why you like it. And it’s writing a story. About you.

People often think that these apps always listen to you silently, but the rabbit hole goes much deeper. And here I’m just trying to show you how deep.

This isn’t some dystopian overlord situation. It’s not DARK. It’s way subtler, which is exactly what makes it powerful. You think you’re just killing time on Instagram, but the algorithm is silently mapping your emotions. It’s figuring out what kind of person watches productivity hacks on Monday, feels philosophical on Wednesday, and panic-searches “how to retire by 40” on Sunday night. It doesn’t just know what you’re doing. It knows who you are when you’re doing it.

And here’s the unsettling part: the algorithm cares less about who you are today, and more about who you’re becoming. That future version of you? That’s the gold mine. That’s the version it’s trying to shape, influence, and monetise. Not through brute force, but through perfectly timed nudges. Not an ad that yells, “BUY THIS,” but one that says, “This feels like you, doesn’t it?”

The Illusion of Choice

You might think you’re in control. Choosing what to click, what to share, and what to skip. But the illusion of choice is the most brilliant part. You’re not just a user. You’re a training model. The data point. The experiment.

Let’s say you open Instagram. You scroll. You like a post. You skip another. You rewatch a reel. All those tiny moves, they don’t feel like decisions. But they are. To the algorithm, every one of them is a vote. And it’s keeping score. The next time you open the app? It’s already reshuffled your entire feed based on who it thinks you’re becoming. Not who you said you were, but who your behaviour hints at.

Because the truth is, you’re not just consuming content. Content is consuming you.

Even worse? You don’t notice it. Because it still feels like a choice. It still feels like you’re steering the ship, even though the GPS has already decided the destination and quietly rerouted the journey.

And that’s the genius of it. We still think we’re the authors of our own experience. But most of the time, we’re just filling in the blanks.

Who’s Writing Whom?

Here’s the twist no one talks about enough: it’s not just that algorithms are learning from us, it’s that we’re unknowingly becoming the version of ourselves they’ve shaped us into.

You think you’re just tweeting something funny at 11:47 PM because you’re feeling quirky. But really? The algorithm already figured out the version of you that tends to post at night – a little tired, a little honest, maybe a little reckless. And it prioritises those tweets because your late-night posts usually get better engagement. So, guess what you start doing? Posting more at night. A bit more raw. A bit more unfiltered. And slowly, that becomes your brand. You didn’t plan it, the algorithm nudged, and you leaned in.

Now zoom out. The version of you who tweets. The version of you who shops. The version of you who scrolls at 1 AM. These aren’t entirely you by design; they’re also you by data.

The scariest part? You don’t feel controlled. You feel seen. It’s not a puppet show, it’s improv. But the stage, the lighting, the props? All pre-arranged. And the character you think you’re creating? It might’ve been suggested in the script all along.

So who’s really doing the writing here?

You?

Or the algorithm that knows you’ll want to sound just like you, only slightly cooler, slightly more clickable?

And You Thought It Was a Tool?

Alright, I’ll be honest – we were never afraid of tools. A hammer doesn’t tell you what you build. But algorithms? They’re kinda trickier. They look like tools, but they behave more like silent influencers.

At first, these systems were here to help. “Let me recommend a show you might like.” But over time, that helpful little nudge turned into a slow steering of the wheel. Now, it’s not just about what you might like, it’s about shaping what you think you like. Or even who you think you are. Spotify isn’t just playing music you enjoy, it’s curating your personality in audio form. The algorithm’s not guessing what you want; it’s creating the wanting itself.

[And it’s an actual fact: Spotify’s algorithmic playlists are built using mood prediction models trained on your listening behaviour, not just the genre, but when and how you listen]

And you adapt. Not because you’re weak. Because you’re human. We all want to belong. We all want to feel understood. Algorithms exploit that soft, beautiful part of us that just wants to be known, and turn it into an engagement loop.

How to Stay Human in a World That’s Predicting You

So, what now? Panic? Throw your phone out of the window? No, this isn’t about fighting the machines. It’s about staying conscious in a system that thrives on your autopilot.

Step one: just notice. Seriously, that’s it. Start spotting the moments where your feed feels a little too perfect. Question why that content makes you feel the way it does. Ask, “Did I want this… or did the algorithm decide I would?”

Step two: mess with the machine. Algorithms want you predictable. They love it when you scroll like a zombie. So shake things up. Be a little weird. Be unpredictable. Watch a video in a language you don’t speak. Follow someone who doesn’t fit your vibe. Basically, confuse the hell out of your feed.

Step three: choose your inputs. Instead of letting the algorithm decide what fills your brain all day, start curating your own mental playlist. Follow people who make you think, not just influencers who make you shop. Read something longer than a caption. Consume content that feeds your mind, not just your mood.

And finally? Remember that real life doesn’t need an algorithm to validate it. Go outside without your phone. Talk to people without trying to make the conversation tweetable. Do something completely unoptimized.

Because in a world that’s increasingly predicting your next move, staying human isn’t about going offline, it’s about staying awake.

[Shoutout to my friend who works in AI and robotics for helping me understand how these systems actually work, and what they might be doing to us without us even noticing]