Recently I have begun the process of de-googlifying my life by decreasing my reliance on Google products and ultimately trying to stem the flow of data Google and other big technology companies collect about me on a daily basis. At first there were some very easy fixes, like getting rid of all streaming subscriptions (except for Dropout TV, which is not a big tech company anyways). Instead of using the big streamers, my wife and I instead opted to rely more on our digital antenna which gives us some great local channels, and also surprisingly an American broadcast of NHK (the Japanese public access channel). Additionally, we brushed off our DVD collection, started borrowing more from the library, and downloaded a collection of TV shows and movies we like onto a harddrive.
After getting rid of streaming, we also got rid of YouTube premium. I had primarily used it for music, but my wife and I also had enjoyed for a long time the ad-free experience. However, it was getting to be a recurring cost that just didn’t work with our financial goals, and we also came to realize that YouTube was becoming a real time suck. And to some extent, that’s another thing I want to address with de-googlifying - I’m getting sick of algorithms making my media consumption decisions for me.
With the streaming sites, as well as social media platforms and YouTube, the user behavior has disturbingly become something like the force feeding of geese to make foie gras. As comedian Bo Burnham has noted before, the attention of media consumers has become the resource which media and tech companies now fight over, all with the goal of keeping you glued to a screen while selling your attention to advertisers.
It’s hard for me to pinpoint when exactly this paradigm started making me queasy, but a big part of it was definitely watching my friends try to “quit” social media. One friend in particular would announce every so often that they were taking a “break” from Instagram. They would make quite a stir about deleting the app, and discuss how their sleep and focus were improving. But within 2-3 weeks, I’d see them scrolling through Reels and posts on Instagram as if nothing had changed.
It’s addictive behavior, plain and simple. And addicts are sick - they shouldn’t be judged for struggling against something so potent. I’m not special in this regard either, as I definitely struggle with social media addiction. Facebook and Instagram lost their appeal for me while I was writing grad school applications because I started to experience a lot of self-doubt from seeing only the positive highlights from my friends’ and acquaintances' lives - that is, when I even saw content from my friends. When I left those platforms a couple years ago my feeds were mostly memes and content from people I didn’t know but followed for “the vibes.”
Since 2010 my main digital vice has been Reddit. I was a super-active user, amassing over 37,000 “comment karma,” referring to the imaginary points awarded for making comments that other users appreciated. My wife pointed out to me a number of times how easy it would be to dox me from my Reddit history because of how much of myself I had shared online. Everytime she brought it up, I would brush it off, but in the back of my mind I knew she was right.
With the latest efforts we made to remove streaming and digital subscriptions from our lives, I also finally built up the courage to get off Reddit. However, erasing 15 years of digital history just isn’t that simple, especially because Reddit makes it fairly easy to dig up deleted comments. Instead, I had to run a script to edit all the posts and comments I had ever made to replace everything I had written with random strings (check out ereddicator if you’d like to do something similar). Once I had run the script, it was much easier to let go of Reddit.
And therein lies the rub with social media - we get so attached to our history and presence on these sites because it feels like a record of who we are. But this feeling is an illusion. Sure, digital humanities scholars can parse through social media archives to draw conclusions about how some newsworthy events were discussed in the 21st century, but we’re fooling ourselves if we think these records are something worth holding onto. I felt the same way about getting rid of my digital subscriptions - it felt sad to get rid of all the personalized recommendations that I had spent years refining. Who is going to tell me what to enjoy now?
As I thought through what other algorithms were controlling my taste and behaviors, I realized that it wasn’t just the websites I accessed, it was the browser too. Web browsers are, by default, set to autocomplete your queries in the address box, either with previous websites you’ve visited, or with potential search queries based on your history. I’ve lauded these functions as super useful in the past, as having a single text box as the gateway to the internet seemed great. But when I reflected on my use of this technology, I realized I had fallen into a zombie-like pattern of typing the first couple letters of my query and letting autocomplete finish the job for me. For example, I hadn’t typed “reddit.com” in years - instead I would type “re” and then press enter (if on a pc) or tap the autocomplete suggestion for reddit. And digging deeper, I noticed that I effectively visited the same sites over and over while searching for content. I’d close a tab of reddit, and immediately open another reddit tab, or linkedin, or reddit again.
The internet is vast, and there’s so much cool stuff out there, and I was looking at it all through a keyhole, and just hoping that if I revisited it enough, the keyhole would get bigger (imagery lightly adapted from a line from Marvel’s first Doctor Strange movie). To address this behavior, I took another plunge that seemed daunting - I deleted my entire browser history, including saved passwords, logins, cookies - everything. Now I’m sure for some people this step feels minor, but again, I hadn't deleted my actual browsing history in over a decade. I’d gotten used to the idea that I could just type in a couple queries and the browser would magically figure out what I’m looking for.
To be clear, these technologies are amazing. But the behavior they empowered in me were not ones I found desirable. If I’m being real, I shudder to think about the effect this level of magical assistance had on me. Within my friends, I’ve already noticed a behavior where they say something along the lines of “oh I saw this funny video on TikTok let me show you” but then they can’t find it again, nor can they describe it with enough detail. Again, this might feel like a minor issue, but when you see it happen enough times, you begin to wonder if your friends are ok, and whether you’re exhibiting the same signs of forgetfulness and inability to keep track of the media you're consuming.
Deleting my browser history wasn’t enough though. I manually disabled all the autocomplete functions on my browser so it would no longer give me search query suggestions or refer me to past websites I had visited. Now when I use my browser, I have to type in complete URLs or complete search queries (additionally, I changed the default search engine from Google to DuckDuckGo). Because there are a couple sites I want to visit regularly, like my institutional email inbox and a couple of blogs and webcomics, I'm making use of my bookmarks toolbar for the first time in a very long time. I’m realizing that somewhere along the way, I got so excited about all the added functionality that was being dumped into web browsers that I had completely ceded my digital autonomy to it - I wasn’t using the browser, the browser was the feedbag lashed to my gullet.
I don’t mean to be dramatic, but digital autonomy has been a contentious issue in my life since high school when a close friend of mine insisted on not using Facebook and mainstream operating systems, and introduced me to livebooting a Linux system and using encryption on my files and communications. I don’t know how he foresaw the future we’re living in now, but it’s becoming more clear than ever that protecting your data and your communication is critical.
Digital autonomy to me now means maintaining as much privacy as possible while using the web as freely as possible. I use a VPN at all times on all my devices. I’m working on transitioning my chats with friends and family to encrypted systems like Signal wherever possible (my Indian parents of course refuse to leave WhatsApp). I switched the operating system on my phone from Android to Graphene. I wrote this website from scratch in the old school way specifically because I wanted to retain complete control over it and not let any WYSIWYG editors or CMS systems inject their own codebase into my work.
There’s a lot more I can do, but that doesn’t mean I have to do it now or at all. I can work towards moving my site and all of my personal files onto a home-based Apache server. I can do away with having a smart phone entirely and use a basic no-data phone. I can stop using credit cards and use only cash and personal checks to pay. Frankly, in a world where so many homes have Ring cameras, true privacy might actually be dead. But that won’t stop me from trying to navigate the physical and digital worlds as freely as possible.
As a final thought, I want to clarify why digital autonomy matters. I’ve touched briefly on the idea of algorithms feeding us content already, and why I see that as problematic. But I also think using the Internet as it was meant to be used, for a free exchange of ideas and aesthetics, is an ideal worth fighting for. I identify as one of the members of the generation that “grew up on the internet.” It’s a precious place to me. I remember the early days of StumbleUpon, where you had a decent chance of finding someone’s cool flash project or an interesting piece of reading. It might be impossible to reclaim those Wild West days of the internet, but I hope a couple of us see value in keeping that spirit alive. Personally, I had forgotten the joy of logging into a computer and checking up on your favorite bloggers to see if they have posted anything. No push notifications, no aggregators, just a human revisiting another human, digitally. And it reminded me that the internet doesn’t have to be a chaotic place for doomscrolling - it can be joyful! It’s the difference between being force fed grain, and slowly enjoying a five-course meal. Totally satisfying when done right.
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