It’s funny how subtly things change. I realized the other day I wasn’t choosing my evening entertainment anymore—it was choosing me. Not in a spooky way, but in the quiet, efficient manner of algorithms learning what I like. My streaming service doesn’t just offer shows, it suggests them, and honestly, it’s disturbingly good at it.

This isn’t limited to what I watch. My news feed feels curated, my online shopping anticipates needs I didn’t even articulate, and even the music drifting from my smart speaker seems to know my mood before I do. It’s AI-powered personalization, and it’s woven itself into the fabric of daily life.

At first, it felt convenient. A relief, even, to have some of the endless choices of modern life narrowed down. But there’s a strange comfort in serendipity, in stumbling upon something unexpected. I wonder if we’re trading discovery for efficiency, broadening our horizons for deeper dives into what we already know.

I’m not sure if this is inherently bad. Perhaps it’s just evolution. But it does make me pause and consider what gets left out of these personalized bubbles. What perspectives aren’t shown? What artists don’t get a chance? It’s a gentle reminder to occasionally step outside the algorithm’s recommendations and actively seek out the unfamiliar. Maybe a little friction in our routines isn’t such a bad thing after all.