The reader muses about Dave Eggers and his works, pondering why a writer would pick a topic that feels so central to our era. The question becomes why anyone would choose to write about it at all, and why many do not. The focus here is the disease of our time—the shift catalyzed by a relentless surge of technology. This thread of inquiry echoes what Eggers explored in El Círculo, inviting readers to consider the stakes and the larger purpose behind such storytelling.
A personal fixation emerges: the transformation of humanity under the influence of rapid technological change. The author frames this as possibly one of the two most radical moments in human history—the leap from industrialization to a new digital era that seems to rewire what it means to be human in just a couple of decades.
The drive to write about this topic was strong, a need to give form to a looming shift and to invite readers into a conversation about its implications.
The narrative reflects on surveillance culture and the growing comfort with surrendering more daily life to algorithms. It portrays a society where decision-making confidence wanes, where people increasingly rely on machines to guide how they live, often at the expense of personal agency. The central concern is a migration from a free-will ethic to a life framed by algorithmic direction.
The most unsettling aspect, in this view, is how familiar the dystopian future already feels. The book presents a near-future landscape that readers might recognize, prompting a question: will the path lead to the world depicted if the current trajectory continues, or if collective action alters course?
The argument advances: power concentrates in monopolies such as Amazon, Facebook, or Google, and with that power comes the temptation to monetize every choice, data point, and moment of time. Yet there remains a window to pause and reclaim what makes humanity distinctive. The consumer, in this framework, is a potent actor in reshaping the balance of power.
I see that we’re becoming an increasingly passive and indifferent species who doesn’t have the confidence to make decisions about her life
What does this phrase mean in practical terms?
It suggests that if people disengage from platforms that harm society—if users disconnect from monopolies and seek alternatives—these companies could lose their grip. The power held by these entities is granted by the choices people make. When that consent is withdrawn, the dynamics shift. Yet the question remains: will there be space to act before it’s too late?
Is the margin of influence truly narrowing, or is there room to push back before reaching a point of no return?
There is a noticeable movement, especially in the San Francisco area, that seeks to replace the notion of human uniqueness with machine prowess. Machines are taught to write poetry, solve problems, and even complete schoolwork. A disturbing motto has taken hold somewhere in the culture: the claim that what makes humans special can be replicated more effectively by machines. This mindset feels chilling and disquieting.
What do you mean by that?
The impulse behind it is most troubling when it aims to render the wild, unpredictable, and beautiful aspects of humanity into predictable, automatic processes. Those who advocate this shift may be operating from a place of nihilism, and their influence is difficult to ignore when power concentrates in their hands.
Why would anyone be interested in teaching a machine to write poetry? The origin of such a thing can only be nihilistic and obscure.
Ultimately, the choice rests with consumers.
A poignant memory from the author involves a friend who admitted a lack of trust in their own daily choices. Relying on apps for scheduling, reminders, and routines, the friend sought help outside themselves because they doubted their own judgment. This observation is offered as a reflection on a wider trend: a growing belief that algorithms can outperform humans in everyday decisions, health, family life, and personal aspirations. The point is not simply about convenience but about the erosion of personal initiative in daily life.
Some people find themselves unable to move in a world that relies on GPS, exemplifying a broader shift toward machine-guided living. Algorithms, it seems, are becoming a new set of rules that shape perception, behavior, and even moral choices. The fear is that this trend dulls subjective judgment by substituting numerical precision for human nuance.
It remains a tension between amusement and alarm. The author notes a moment of irony in TrueVoice, an app that instructs what to say, underscoring how a technological oracle can erode authentic communication.
The narrative also imagines an app that judges beauty, deciding what is aesthetically valued. A dinner conversation in San Francisco suggested such an idea as a future possibility, prompting the realization that some warnings offered in fiction can arrive within a few years of publication. The challenge is whether society will resist or embrace these developments.
A memorable character named Kiki embodies both humor and fear, illustrating how dependence on technology can flatten individuality. Kiki’s anxiety mirrors concerns about the pressures of modern parenting and the flood of information that families must manage. The chapter on parenting highlights how daily sharing, countless photos, and constant updates have become expected norms, creating a seismic shift in family life and responsibility.
The portrayal of modern teenagers echoes a generation under extraordinary strain. Tech rehabilitation programs, mountains or remote places as escapes from screens, illustrate the far-reaching impact of connected devices. It’s a reminder that the younger generation faces pressures unlike any before, from relentless messages to a global stream of events.
The book’s critique turns to the idea of a troglo—someone who resists digital dominance by choosing an analogue life. Today, choosing such independence is possible but not simple. The argument extends to questions about governance and technology policy, arguing that the push toward digital ubiquity carries public consequences that demand scrutiny. There is a belief that preserving choice and autonomy should guide how societies organize technology access and participation.
The Troglos cling to their independence, the freedom to choose an analogue life, and not to divulge their lives through these monopolies.
In this frame, the role of governments is also a topic, since policy shapes how companies grow and what it means to participate in civic life. The idea is not to demonize technology but to guard personal freedom against overreach by private power. Even without a dependence on the latest device, communities can opt for different modes of participation while maintaining democratic access to information and opportunity.