Have you ever felt like the internet isn't alive anymore? Like you're scrolling though noise pretending to be people? Remember the early days of the internet? That wild digital frontier where every webpage felt like it was handcrafted by an actual human being, where online interactions had that unmistakable human touch, and where cultural diversity flourished across different corners of the web? The internet isn’t dying—it’s being slowly optimized into sterility.

Instead of just accepting the digital landscape as presented to us today, we'll examine how both automated content and recommendation systems have transformed what was once a vibrant ecosystem of human creativity into something increasingly artificial and uniform.

The Dead Internet Theory

Let me tell you about a theory that's gained significant traction in recent years: the Dead Internet Theory. It suggests that the internet as we know it today is largely fabricated. Much of the content we consume, the interactions we have, and the trends we follow are not generated by real people but by sophisticated AI systems and bots.

The core sentiment is captured perfectly in the original post from Agora Road: "The internet feels empty and devoid of people. It is also devoid of content. Compared to the internet of say 2007 and beyond, the internet of today is entirely sterile. There is nowhere to go and nothing to do, see, read, or experience anymore."

Think about the last time you scrolled through social media comments, product reviews, or forum discussions. How confident are you that the opinions expressed there came from actual humans? I've seen comments that are clearly not written by a human. They are too perfect, too neutral, too generic. It doesn't feel like a real conversation or a personal touch was added to the comment.

With AI language models becoming increasingly sophisticated, distinguishing between human and machine-generated content is more challenging than ever before. Major technology companies, like Microsoft, are increasingly envisioning a future where the internet is optimized for AI agents. The goal is to create an “agentic web” where AI agents can perform tasks, make decisions, and communicate with one another without direct human intervention. This emerging paradigm suggests a transition from a human-centric internet to one tailored for machine-to-machine interactions.

But maybe it's not just machines that are hollowing the internet out — maybe it’s us, too.

Filterworld: The Algorithmic Flattening of Culture

This increasingly sterile internet coincides with another profound shift: the flattening of global culture through recommendation algorithms. As explored in "Filterworld: How Algorithms Flattened Culture" written by Kyle Chayka the systems that determine what content reaches our screens aren't simply neutral conduits—they actively shape cultural production and consumption on a global scale.

Even human made content like Spotify songs, Instagram posts, and YouTube videos are being shaped by the humans to cater to the algorithm. Making songs sound the same, making photos blur together and making thumbnails yell the same titles in different fonts. Even me writing this article, I probably have been subtly shaped by the algorithm to make it more engaging. Even I was recommended the book "Filterworld" by Kyle Chayka, by an algorithm after all.

The Ghost Towns of the Internet

The intersection of these two phenomena—the proliferation of bots and the algorithmic flattening of culture—has transformed the digital landscape into something increasingly artificial and uniform. Like abandoned ghost towns populated only by automated systems, many corners of the internet now feel devoid of authentic human presence.

Social media platforms once teeming with diverse voices and perspectives increasingly resemble carefully curated theme parks where engagement is manufactured and dissent is minimized. Comment sections overflow with suspiciously similar opinions, generated either by actual bots or by humans who have internalized the language patterns that algorithms reward.

Even more concerning is how this artificiality extends beyond obvious bot behavior. Human creators themselves begin to adapt to algorithmic preferences, becoming more bot-like in their content production. Musicians craft songs specifically designed to perform well on streaming platforms. Writers optimize their language for search algorithms rather than human readers. Visual artists converge toward aesthetics that generate maximum engagement.

Consider the shrinking length of popular songs. Over the past few years, average song duration has steadily declined (The Shorter the Song, the Sweeter the Stream?). This isn’t a coincidence—it’s a direct response to algorithmic incentives baked into streaming platforms. A “stream” is counted when a listener makes it past the 30-second mark, and artists are paid per stream. That means the ideal scenario for many musicians isn’t just getting you to enjoy a full song, but to move on to the next track as soon as that threshold is hit. The structure of the music itself bends to the logic of the platform, rewarding repetition, speed, and shortness over depth or experimentation.

The result is a strange digital uncanny valley—not quite human, not quite machine, but a hybrid space where the boundaries between the two increasingly blur. Many people are not expressing themselves, but they are A/B testing the algorithm.

Loss of Cultural Diversity

As creators across the world optimize for the same algorithms, we lose the rich tapestry of diverse approaches to art, music, storytelling, and humor. Regional peculiarities, niche subcultures, and idiosyncratic forms of expression that don't easily translate to algorithm-friendly formats get pushed to the margins.

Consider how global music streaming has led to increasingly similar song structures across different countries, or how the "Instagram aesthetic" has homogenized visual culture around the world. What we gain in global connectivity, we lose in cultural distinctiveness.

Perhaps the most profound cost is psychological. As human connection becomes increasingly mediated by algorithmic systems and mixed with bot-generated content, many people report a growing sense of alienation even as they remain constantly connected. Studies have documented rising loneliness despite increased digital connectivity. The suspicion that much of what we encounter online is artificial feeds into a broader sense that our digital interactions lack the depth and authenticity of genuine human connection.

Reclaiming Identity

There's no escape hatch. But there are exits — if you’re looking for them. I know it's hypocritical of me to say this, as you probably found this article because of an algorithm. But I do feel like we should create more "weird things". I started writing this article not to scale or chase a trend, just as a way of expressing myself and sharing my opinion on the matter.

Curate for people, not feeds. We’ve all been trained to share things that the algorithm might like. But what if we started sharing things for a few actual humans instead? Start a newsletter that’s just a dump of cool stuff you’ve read. Post weird links in a group chat. Leave thoughtful comments where you actually mean them. The internet gets better when we stop performing and start connecting.

What would you post if you weren’t optimizing for anything?