How Social Media and Algorithms Shape What You Want and Buy

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how the internet shapes our desires. Not in a conspiratorial way, but in a personal, practical, lived way.

This reflection was partly triggered by an article I recently read about a social media CEO who refuses to let his children use social platforms freely. What struck me wasn’t just his instinct to protect his kids. It was the quieter implication that he’s protecting himself too.

If something is powerful enough to manipulate children, it’s powerful enough to manipulate adults.

We like to believe adulthood makes us immune. That if something is unsafe for kids, it somehow becomes safe once you turn 18. But across industries like social media, beauty, tech, and consumer marketing, the pattern is simpler than we like to admit: children are protected, adults are monetised.

I Drew a Line Early — Some Platforms I Never Joined

Years ago, I made a deliberate decision not to join the most addictive platforms.

I’ve never signed up for:

• TikTok

• X (formerly Twitter)

They felt like the most extreme attention traps. Fast, reactive, emotionally charged, and designed for compulsion.

Other platforms often mentioned in the same addictive category include:

• Snapchat

• Reddit

• Discord

When I was already using YouTube, Instagram, Pinterest, and at the time Facebook, I remember thinking:
This is enough. I don’t have space in my mind for more.

Dumping Facebook Was One of My Best Decisions

I eventually deactivated Facebook entirely, and it remains one of the best digital decisions I’ve made.

The mental noise dropped.
The comparison spiral eased.
The emotional pull weakened.

I didn’t feel like I was losing connection.
I felt like I was getting some mental space back.

My Strange Relationship With Instagram (By Design)

Instagram still technically exists in my life, but in a very intentional, distant way.

At one point, I:

• Changed my username

• Removed my profile photo

• Left it as a grey, empty circle

That was deliberate.

It reminds me I’m not there to perform, impress, or build an identity.
I’m there only when I choose, and only for a specific purpose.

It creates distance.
It keeps the platform from feeling like it owns my attention.

I’m present, but I’m not absorbed.

LinkedIn Taught Me Another Lesson About Attention

When I started posting on LinkedIn, I noticed how easily posting turned into scrolling, checking reactions, and monitoring engagement.

So I removed the app from my phone.

I’ve done the same with Instagram at different points, deleting the app and only accessing it through a browser. It’s slower, clunkier, and far less addictive.

That friction helps.

If something is too seamless, it stops being a tool and starts shaping your behaviour.

Building an Online Business Made Me See the Machine More Clearly

As I’ve been building a side business online — writing blogs, creating faceless YouTube videos, posting on LinkedIn, and researching natural hair on Instagram and Pinterest — my screen time has increased.

Not because I want to scroll, but because I’m learning, testing, building, and creating.

At the same time, I’ve become more aware of how exposed I am to being marketed to.

Pinterest hides ads inside inspiration grids.
Instagram blends aspiration with sponsorship.
YouTube is especially sophisticated now. It’s often hard to tell where education ends and selling begins.

YouTube doesn’t just entertain.
It teaches.
It builds trust.
It positions creators as guides.
Then it quietly sells through them.

It’s not surprising that some people now treat YouTube as a replacement for formal education.

You hear people say:
“Why go to university when you can learn everything on YouTube?”

There is some truth in that.
But algorithms have incentives, and those incentives are not your long-term wellbeing, depth, or wisdom.

They’re built to maximise attention, watch time, and revenue.

How the Algorithm Sold Me a Dream (2017–2021)

Between 2017 and 2021, I was heavily influenced by:

• Productivity YouTubers

• Natural hair creators

• “How to become a YouTuber” channels

I thought I was learning — and in many ways, I was.

What I didn’t fully recognise at the time was how much I was also being targeted and nudged toward spending.

I bought:

• Courses I barely finished

• Journals promising a better version of me

• YouTube gear I didn’t truly need

• A Sony camera, close to $1,000, that I barely used

Looking back, it’s clear I wasn’t just buying tools.
I was buying a fantasy version of myself that the algorithm kept reinforcing.

The camera didn’t sell technology.
It sold the idea of “future content creator me.”

Even my Peloton bike carries some of that pattern. I like it, and I use it, but I can see how repeated exposure shaped my perception. Without that constant marketing, I might have chosen something simpler and cheaper.

That doesn’t make me foolish.
It makes me human in a system designed to persuade.

The Difference Now: Consciousness Over Compulsion

I generally try to buy nothing through social media platforms.
I don’t treat Instagram, YouTube, Pinterest, or LinkedIn as shopping tools. That’s a deliberate decision.

If I do spend money, it’s rarely driven by social media, and it’s usually digital only, and even then cautiously:

• I avoid buying physical products or courses promoted on social media

• I limit spending to subscriptions or digital tools where I can trial, test, and cancel

• I avoid annual plans and stick to monthly subscriptions, free trials, or discounted periods

• I choose options where the downside is small and reversible

• I review my subscriptions at least once a month and cancel anything that no longer feels necessary

If I consider a bigger purchase, I slow myself down:

• I pause instead of buying in the moment

• I use wish lists with time constraints, waiting 30 days, 90 days, or even years depending on the item

• If something stays on the list and I still genuinely want it months later, only then do I consider buying it

• I check whether I already own something that does the same job

• I make sure I actually use what I buy, rather than collecting things for a fantasy version of myself

I manage this through YNAB, where wish-list items become intentional future decisions rather than impulsive spending. Seeing the real financial impact before buying helps me choose calm and stability over short-term excitement.

I’m not perfect, but I’m no longer operating on autopilot.

My Rule: Create Before Consume

One of the biggest shifts I’ve made is simple: create before consume.

I journal in the mornings.
I write before I scroll.
I try to sit with my own thoughts before algorithms flood my mind with everyone else’s.

Part of why I started creating content in the first place was realising how easily my thinking could be shaped before I even had time to form my own opinions.

Creating first protects my voice.
It helps me stay grounded in my own perspective.

If It’s Harmful for Kids, Why Do We Assume It’s Safe for Adults?

We see this pattern everywhere:

• Social media is “dangerous for children” but aggressively monetised for adults

• Certain beauty chemicals are discouraged for kids but normalised for grown women

• Hyper-stimulating apps are framed as entertainment rather than behavioural conditioning

If something hijacks attention, dopamine, insecurity, or impulse, it doesn’t magically become healthy when you grow up.

Adults aren’t immune.
We’re just marketed to more elegantly.

The Hypocrisy I Have to Admit

I’m building a business online.
I’m creating content.
I’m participating in the same ecosystem I’m critiquing.

That tension is real.

But I don’t think the answer is disappearing from the internet entirely.
I think it’s about using it more deliberately than it uses us.

Creating more than consuming.
Choosing rather than reacting.
Noticing when our desires might have been planted.

A Question for You, the Reader

I’ve started asking myself some uncomfortable questions. You might want to ask them too.

• What have you bought because an algorithm kept putting it in front of you?

• Which platforms influence your spending the most?

• Which apps feel hardest to control?

• How much of what you want was genuinely your idea?

• Is AI shaping your time and attention in a similar way to social media?

• Are you using these tools, or are they quietly shaping your behaviour?

The Truth I’m Sitting With

The internet doesn’t just reflect what we want.

It trains us what to want.
What to buy.
Who to admire.
Who to become.

Noticing that, imperfectly and honestly, feels like a small step toward freedom.

Disclosure (Affiliate Transparency)

Some links in this post may be referral or affiliate links, including YNAB.
If you choose to sign up using them, I may receive a small benefit (such as free months) at no extra cost to you. I only share tools I genuinely use and find helpful.