Micro-Trends and Personalized Content: How Your Algorithm Contributes to Over-Consumption
From the unforgettable Dalgona coffee trend dating the COVID-19 pandemic to the fairly recent dry yoghurt bowls, even consumption of food gets dictated by a social media presence and accommodates our interests accordingly. From food to fashion and even tourism, we find ourselves leaning onto the internet and its celebrities to make our decisions. Surprisingly, it happens more unconsciously than we can begin to comprehend. Although following trends creates a comforting sense of “we-ness” in our technologically inseparable lives, we can try and locate where this hamster race stems from and whether or not it negatively affects us more than the other way around.
A trend can include societal shifts or consumer-based influences, often aestheticizing day to day lifestyle based on what fits common interest at a given point of time- which, as one may expect, is short-lived. Algorithms, unlike trends, remain far more consistent in their functioning. Regardless of the difference of interests from device to device, the model returns back to a similar distribution of machine-learning based data distribution. Change in interest will automatically switch this data to then make room for newfound interests.
A week ago, my entire Instagram feed included literature-related memes or posts regarding the Netflix show Bridgerton and the moment I came home for vacations and browsed a bunch of recipes…let us say the only Irish thing on my feed was coffee. Consequently, Irish coffee was included in one of my recent food orders. And if I weren’t for my unrelated choice to write this blog, the idea probably wouldn’t have crossed my mind.
Let us begin with my experience as we walk through the complexities in which algorithms influence us. I clicked on an Instagram reel set in a café: a friendly barista demonstrating their recipe in a cozy, calm tone. This personalised recommendation is what led to my follow-up decision of making the same order within that very week. However, this example appears seemingly harmless when we talk about over-consumption. Surely if I hadn’t ordered an Irish coffee, I could simply order an Espresso. (No shade, Sabrina Carpenter. Except I’m sure you wouldn’t mind an Irish one.) It is the previously mentioned consistency that acts in deviating public interest at a higher scale: in proportion and frequency.
The consistency is tailored to tend to a highly specific audience- the consumers, that come back to the content over and over again. Once consumer interest is ensured, repetitive exposure to customized content becomes frequent. The accessibility of online shopping acts as a catalyst in the process. One scrol
l and we find ourselves intrigued by yet another micro trend, one click and a financially stable individual owns what was once in the hands of an elite influencer. As for the rest, they either long for a future in which they can afford what seems like a luxury or hope for the trend to die out, as it inevitably does. In this manner, fluctuating emergence and disappearance of trends might console those who cannot afford to partake in them and in another context, the influencers that begin them. But the influenced demographic is stuck in an endless cycle of over-consumption.
Algorithms continue to recommend content based on individual engagement and this individual engagement is simultaneously influenced by said content. The psychological pressure of conforming to trends never ends and the financial strain it creates is equally taxing. This is, of course, not a situation to blame consumers for. With the innumerable options to choose from, the illusion of choice becomes recurrent. We believe our decisions to be consciously weighed in, disregarding how often we seek for social validation through our choices. When limited free will collaborates with pressure to conform, there’s little individual choice except to follow along.
What, then, can you personally do to avoid such experiences if you find them relatable? It might sound quite contradictory– accepting the inevitability of unconscious decisions while also being aware of them– but can be helpful in the long run. With time and experience, signaling our unintentional choices becomes easier. Question yourself: do you really need this product or is it a materialistic benefit based on yet another marketing gimmick? Compare your choice to an economically and environmentally beneficial alternative. The process is slow and wavering, but eventually highly convenient. As we begin to observe how such strategies are intricately blended into our daily lives, treating them with a skeptic outlook becomes less challenging. Surely I don’t disagree with personal and wishful owning of aesthetically pleasing commodities, but it requires little effort to give a minute and reconsider the consequences of overconsumption– that is, if said products do not seem to benefit you as they might seem to.
With that in mind, the complexities of social media and its algorithms is the kind of wonders that I, as a writer cannot fathom the same way as a software engineer. However, I do believe everyone’s an equal audience to its several consequences. Practicing mindfulness before purchasing is an advice that works similar to real life and reveals itself as an adequate starting point. Remember, after all it’s a threat to your own bank account.
