Digital Platforms and the Human Experience

Digital platforms have mastered the art of keeping us hooked. Between infinite scroll, autoplay, and algorithm-driven content, they’ve essentially turned apps into digital black holes. It’s great for their profits—not so great for our attention spans. If they’re going to shape how we spend our time, they should at least take responsibility for how they’re doing it.

One of the biggest issues? Digital addiction. Let’s be honest—these platforms are designed like casinos, feeding us just enough dopamine to keep us coming back for more. A lazy fix like “screen time reminders” doesn’t cut it. Imagine if users could actually personalize their feeds, setting time limits on certain content categories, or choosing what type of recommendations they wanted. TikTok, for example, could let people control how much “For You” content they consume before it switches to something educational or user-selected (360info, 2023). Or maybe feed your content based on whatever you´re learning in school that year, reinforce knowledge…If apps are so “smart,” maybe they should help us make better choices instead of just exploiting our worst impulses.

Then there’s social disconnection. Somehow, we’re more connected than ever, yet we’ve managed to make socializing feel even lonelier. Social media, instead of bringing people together, often just turns interaction into an exchange of meaningless reactions. Kaitlyn Creasy, in her essay How is it possible to be loved and yet to feel deeply lonely? (Aeon, 2023), explains that loneliness isn’t just about a lack of social interaction—it’s about feeling unseen or disconnected, even in the presence of others. Social media plays into this by prioritizing performance over authenticity—pushing people to curate their lives rather than actually experience them. Platforms could atack this by prioritizing real-world meetups and deeper interactions instead of fueling false engagement metrics. Imagine an app that encouraged in-person connections instead of simply keeping users in an endless loop of scrolling. I think of Pokemon-go and how at least it made one move across a city, why not catch persons when we meet.

Physical World Integration

Right now, the digital world is like that friend who moves in “just for a few days” and somehow never leaves. Instead of complementing our real lives, it just takes over. But what if tech actually enhanced the spaces we live in instead of pulling us out of them?

For example in public spaces. Years ago, I read Vito Acconci’s Public Space in a Private Time in a university class. Even back then, his argument felt a little outdated—like it was already mourning the loss of a public space that had been slipping away long before we got there. And yet, his premise still holds up. Acconci argued that public spaces are never truly public—they’re shaped by invisible rules, whether through government control, corporate interests, or even just social norms (Acconci, 1990). Today, digital spaces have a similar problem: they pretend to be open forums, but in reality, they’re curated, controlled, and monitored.

One way to merge digital with the real world could be through interactive public installations—benches that collect and share anonymous short stories from passersby, city spaces that let people leave voice notes for future visitors, or even digital overlays in parks that highlight community-generated content. Even how stated before it could make a gamified experience that envolved first the phygital but then requires prescence. Instead of using technology to isolate people in virtual spaces, we could use it to amplify real-world presence.

Values and Features Realignment

If digital platforms want to survive long-term without completely frying our brains, they need to rethink what success looks like. Right now, it’s all about maximizing screen time and engagement, but what if the future of digital platforms wasn’t just about keeping us online—but actually improving how we use that time?

I propose the following: Solution A) “conscious engagement mode.” Before logging into an app, users could set an intent—“I want to check in with friends,” “I want to learn something new,” “I want to see something funny.” Instead of being bombarded with whatever content gets the most clicks, the app would actually respect those choices and adjust its algorithm accordingly.

Solution b) Tiktok alarms like the ones in Netflix that say “still watching?” but saying “you have watched enough silly dances for today, get out”.

Historical Human Context

Long before social media (and even before landlines, believe it or not), people gathered in public spaces, shared stories, debated ideas, and built relationships in ways that didn’t involve reaction buttons. Digital platforms, ironically, have made it harder to actually feel connected, turning interactions into a numbers game where validation is measured in likes and followers rather than genuine conversation.

Right now, social media thrives on performance, not presence. Instead of prioritizing depth, it rewards engagement—often at the cost of meaningful interaction. The solution isn’t nostalgia for a pre-internet era, but rather reimagining digital spaces as places that encourage real dialogue rather than just attention-seeking. What if, instead of being giant, algorithm-driven popularity contests, social platforms functioned more like modern-day town squares, where users could engage in discussions with real people based on shared interests rather than just what’s trending? Smaller, purpose-driven communities could help restore that sense of belonging that’s been lost in the chaos of mass social media (Medium, 2023).

At this rate, we’re all one step away from being fully absorbed into the digital void. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Digital platforms have the power to make our lives better—if they try. Companies need to take responsibility for the ecosystems they’ve created, not just in keeping people engaged but in ensuring they’re doing something valuable with that engagement. At the same time, we as users must stop acting surprised when platforms prioritize profit over well-being—because until we start demanding something different, they have no reason to change.

And if they don’t? Maybe, just maybe, people will start touching grass again.

(And YES I cite Vito Acconci in all of my reflections)