Reclaiming Our Humanity in the Digital Age
A call to reflect, question, and remember what cannot be optimized
Dear reader,
We’re told that AI is just a tool. That if we use it “responsibly,” everything will be fine. Adapt. Marvel. Comply. Stop asking real questions.
But many of us are asking, feeling, and noticing—how these tools reshape our thinking, how we feel, and how we relate to ourselves and each other. Noticing how we reach for convenience, and feel more fractured. Noticing how our inner lives feel more crowded and somehow emptier. This is not a manifesto. It’s not an argument against all technology. This is a call to attention in an age where our attention is commodified. A call to investigate what’s happening inside us, what we’re quietly giving up in the name of “progress.”
What is this space?
This community is a space to reflect on how artificial intelligence, social media, and digital culture are reshaping our inner and outer lives.
How we see ourselves
How we form relationships
How we learn, create, and make meaning
How we remember to be fully human
It’s about the erosion of curiosity, the automation of thought, the gamification of connection.
It’s about resisting the idea that being human is something to optimize.
What’s ahead?
Each week, we’ll share short essays, questions, and guest reflections exploring themes like:
What does it mean to think for ourselves in an age of algorithmic suggestion?
How does technology reshape the way we experience ourselves and our world?
What does it mean to create when machines can mimic expression?
How can we care for ourselves and each other in digital spaces that prioritize speed over depth?
This will also be a space for you: your thoughts, your questions, your stories.
I’ll include invitations for reflection, prompts for journaling or discussion, and links to essays exploring similar questions.
What this isn’t
It’s not a tech newsletter.
It’s not anti-technology.
It’s not trying to scare you, sell you, or simplify anything.
This is a space for quiet discomfort to have a voice, for the moments that don’t make headlines but linger in the gut, and the questions that machines can’t answer but keep us human just for asking.
Your feedback and ideas are welcome here. This isn’t a monologue, it’s an invitation. Together, we can remember what still belongs to us.
Shall we begin?