In Defense of the Algorithm
What’s so bad about something that gives us more of what we like?
By Lou Weiss
It’s said that the algorithm will be the ruination of the person and of society. Never having learned to code, I can’t say for sure, but it seems that almost everyone who developed a useful one is a billionaire. From what I understand, algorithms are digital tools designed to study us and then to present us with ideas, images and goods based on our histories. Well, something that gives us more of what we like sounds pretty good. The problem is that when bad people get their worst ideas reinforced, things go sideways.
My algorithmic drug of choice is X (née Twitter), which, like the rest of social media, gets blamed for our sour politics and crass behavior. The plausible claim is that our positions can’t shift if they’re never challenged. It’s not that I never change my mind. But I like seeing things I agree with. Between my friends and the general media, I get plenty of the “other side” in real life.
So allow me to speak on behalf of the oft-maligned algorithm. I have this very special relationship with my “Algo,” as I call it. It shows me the Pittsburgh Steelers in victory and forever young Pistol Pete, Magic Johnson or Larry Bird making impossible passes. And it never takes sides against the Corleone family.
We know about Socrates and the unexamined life. But I had my character by middle school, my sports by high school, my political philosophy by sophomore year at Kenyon and my religion by 24, when I got married. By 25, for better or worse, I knew where I stood.
I’ve considered most of the big topics that an examined life would lead one to think about. After 70 years and no matter what the day, I know that communism is evil, America is good, Thomas Sowell is brilliant, and the state of Israel is a modern miracle. I have no problem differentiating between the good and bad guys, most of whom haven’t changed in my lifetime.
Recently my feed had Caitlin Clark and Sophie Cunningham mixing it up in the WNBA, only goals for soccer and baseball circus catches. These are the few highlights my fair-weather fandom can accommodate.
It’s not a trip to the museum, but I get a delightful parade of masterpieces across my screen. Cézanne, Klimt and Edward Hopper may be long gone. But their works still bring beauty to my timeline.
New topics occasionally weave their way in. Based on the numerous clips of the Nicholas Brothers and Fred Astaire that I watch on YouTube, my Algo introduced me to a fabulous improvisational dance style called West Coast Swing.
Plus, I get updated on some of the wonderful eccentrics I’ve come to follow. There’s a character named David Burge with the nom de tweet “iowahawkblog” who holds forth on old cars (often identified by their rusted fragments), Iowa football, midcentury architecture, punk bands and libertarian politics. I like most of his obsessions. While I don’t much care for punk, I’ve adopted his interest in pickup trucks crashing into liquor stores.
The algorithm bathes me in nostalgia, and the ads that it sends my way are usually spot-on. Is every 70-year-old constantly getting ads for toenail clippers, or is it only me? The AI-constructed women in my ads are appropriately graying. My Algo knows me, and unlike some longtime acquaintances, it likes me.
Wanting more of what I know and like may make me seem stodgy, stultified or simple. You’ll get no argument from me there. I’m sure kimchi is amazing and delicious. But today’s lunch will be PB and J.
Mr. Weiss is a Pittsburgh carpet salesman.
In a world where everything is driven by advertising, the algo exists not for the benefit or pleasure of the user but for the benefit of the company behind the content that you find continually engaging, which wants to keep YOU on their website and viewing advertising.
This is all you need to know about modern life!