The problem with algorithms isn’t that they’re wrong - it’s that they’re too right. They anticipate my next move with eerie precision. It’s flattering at first to be understood - until I realise I haven’t discovered anything new in years.
Somewhere along the way, I found out ‘finding what I love’ turned into ‘never straying from it.’
It’s like that suffocating school friend who remembers everything you’ve ever said and refuses to let you change your mind or grow up. The blue eye shadow was a mistake, Marion, ok?
When every suggestion is tailored ‘just for me,’ I marinate in my own taste. My world gets smaller, trapped in an algorithmic echo chamber of just me. Me. Me.
Rediscover the Joy of Getting Lost
Once upon a time, discovering something new meant serendipity, not statistics.
I found books because someone left one behind on a bus. I discovered music by misremembering a name and accidentally buying torturous European disco when I was craving Bowie. I watched films because they were the only VHS left at Blockbuster.
Was it all good? Absolutely not. But it was unpredictable. And that’s what made it exciting.
Now, everything is frictionless.
Spotify makes me a weekly list based on the last 12 songs I played. Boring. Netflix knows me well. But would never have suggested the F1 documentary I loved.
Even my supermarket assumes it knows what I want: ‘You might like oat milk.’ I might. But I’ll decide. I don’t need to be spoon-fed thank you.
You Can Have Any Colour, As Long As It’s Blue
When I was growing up, I had a friend called Anna. She lived in London and, like many London girls, she loved to shop.
Afterwards, we would sit on her bed, and there would be that ‘ta-da’ moment when she’d reveal what was in her shopping bag. Always in the haul were a pair of dark blue leather court shoes. She owned over forty pairs, each nearly identical to the others in her wardrobe.
And, if I let algorithms run my life, I’ll know exactly what I’m going to get: a slightly different version of what I already have. More blue shoes.
‘Get lost’ was my brother’s constant cry to his annoying, inquisitive little sister. It was meant as an insult, but now I see those words as a positive.
I don’t want to wear, see, hear, or eat the same thing on an endless loop.
I would rather get lost any day than follow the deep-grooved, homogenised track to Sameville.
And that’s the idea behind my Substack notes: 28 Days of No Sh*t, Sherlock – tiny, ‘now-why-didn’t-I-think-of-that’ ideas. Just small, tips suggesting some choices in life are better than others.
Curious? Here are the second seven.
Day 8. Ditch the Algorithm
What am I going to do?
Stop letting the computer decide what I read, watch, or listen to. No more predictable ‘If you liked this, you’ll love …’ I want to find things haphazardly, like discovering a band because their name is scribbled on a toilet door.
How am I going to do it?
Take the road less travelled. Tune into something random on the radio. Go to the library, pick the third shelf, fourth book, and read page 28. Visit a thrift store and feel the fabric, try things on, and let curiosity, not code, lead.
What do I hope to get out of it?
A reminder that the best discoveries are the ones you didn’t know you were looking for. Ignoring algorithms is like stepping off a conveyor belt – personalisation IRL.
Day 9. Be Alert. Your country needs more ‘Lerts’
What am I going to do? Mindfulness feels too big. I’m rebranding it: being alert – noticing what’s around me every day.
How am I going to do it? I’ll simply tune in. The dishwasher’s appalling noise – today, I’ll call it ‘white noise.’ The squawking seagulls, a nest in the tree, the smell of toast – I’m taking it all in.
What do I hope to get out of it? A little more appreciation for what’s here, rather than wondering if the grass is greener elsewhere. Spoiler alert: it never is. But we know that already.
Day 10. Press Record, save a memory
What I’m going to do? Record the good stuff.
How I’m going to do it? With my phone. More reliable than scribbling on receipts that end up crumpled at the bottom of my bag. A quick voice note to capture the thought in real time.
What I hope to get out of it? Clarity. Less obsessing over lost thoughts and more room in my brain for real thinking. And a record of those half-mumbled phrases that felt like revelations. No more tall stories about the one that got away.y
Day 11. Mouthwash
What am I going to do? Get rid of the bad taste in my mouth.
How am I going to do it? Some days, I say things I wish I could unsay; other times, I can blame it on too much garlic. The result is the same. To expunge the halitosis - physical or metaphorical - I’ll hop into the shower, right underneath, no awkward tilt of the head, just getting every inch of me soaking wet. Then, I’ll brush my teeth.
What do I hope to get out of it? A couple of minutes under my domestic waterfall to wash away yesterday’s mistakes.
Day 12. Help, I need somebody
What am I going to do? Ask for help.
How am I going to do it?
By being honest. Simples. Today, I’m juggling more than I have hands for, and it’s starting to show. I feel spread so thin I’m practically gossamer—pretty in a party dress, but I need of a little grace.
What do I hope to get out of it?
`This is hardly a fair trade. Right now, I have nothing to offer in return. But if just one person shows me a dot of kindness. It will be a sweet reminder of humanity and that not everybody is transactional. Enough to get me to bedtime where I’ll collapse into exhausted gratitude.
Day 13. Smile, and the world smiles with you
What am I going to do? Put a smile on my face.
How am I going to do it? The moment I wake up, I’ll look out the window, stand on tiptoe, throw my arms wide like I’m about to conduct an orchestra, and either go full cheese or pull off an enigmatic Mona Lisa - it depends which side of the bed I got out of.
What do I hope to get out of it? Some say the brain can’t tell the difference between a real and fake smile. I’m not sold on the science, but it’s a cute way to start the day. A little curve on my face, gazing outward rather than inward—can’t be a bad habit.
Day 14. No u-turns allowed
What am I going to do? Pick a lane.
How am I going to do it? List all the things I claim to want to do. Then, in a brutal but oddly satisfying process, I’ll pit them against each other, elimination-style, until only one remains. No hedging. Just one. Then, I’ll give it my free time for a few weeks and see what happens.
What do I hope to get out of it? Less dithering, more doing. Less talking, more making. And fewer eye-rolls from my friends.
This is the second of four posts exploring simple, quirky tips that might make a difference. Want the next instalments? Sign up below.
Yay! Found out how to comment! Excellent essay. X