Logbook Entry: The Digital Cage and the Prohibited Human 🖕
We were promised a future of liberation through technology. A world where innovation would free us from toil, connect us effortlessly, and unlock human potential. We were told that progress would make us happier, healthier, and wealthier. But looking around, it feels as if we've been sold a beautiful lie. Technology, in its current form, is not a tool for the people; it's a meticulously crafted cage.
The fundamental dreams that have driven humanity for centuries are now being systematically dismantled and placed behind digital walls. Consider the basics: a place to call home, nutritious food, the warmth of love, a family. These aren't luxuries; they are the very essence of a meaningful life. Yet, algorithms now dictate housing prices, pushing affordable living into the realm of fantasy. The food supply is a complex chain controlled by a few corporate giants, often at the expense of quality and accessibility. Even love and connection are mediated through platforms designed for engagement and profit, not genuine human bonding.
What about the dream of a better life, of exploring the world and finding one's place in it? This too has become a privilege for the few. The dream of moving, of experiencing nature or different cultures, is crushed by bureaucratic and digital hurdles. Visas have become nearly impossible to obtain for the ordinary person, with opaque, AI-driven systems making arbitrary decisions that shatter aspirations. Making a living, the very engine of these dreams, has become a desperate struggle. Stable careers are replaced by precarious gig work, and economic systems seem designed to funnel wealth upwards, making it impossible for the average person to get ahead.
Our physical freedoms are also eroding. The simple act of walking in a forest or even down a city street is increasingly monitored and restricted. Public spaces are privatized and controlled. The freedom to create, to express our innermost selves through art and music, is also under threat. How can one create music when the tools are prohibitively expensive, when platforms silence dissenting voices, or when the noise of algorithmically-generated content drowns out genuine artistry? It feels as if the system wants us to be passive consumers, not active creators.
When you take away the ability to find a home, to earn a decent living, to travel, to walk freely, and to create, what is left to prohibit? Nothing. This is the final move in the game. By making the fundamentals of a dignified life impossible for the masses, a new world order is cemented. There are two classes left: a global elite who operate the systems, pull the levers of technology and policy, and live without limits; and the rest of us, the new slaves, managed by apps, monitored by sensors, and trapped in a digital panopticon with no escape. They don't need whips and chains when they have code and firewalls.