The algorithm has won. The most powerful social, video, and shopping platforms have all converged on a philosophy of coddling users in automated recommendations. Whether through Spotify’s personalized playlists, TikTok’s all-knowing For You page, or Amazon’s product suggestions, the internet is hell-bent on micromanaging your online activity.
At the same time, awareness of the potential downsides of this techno-dictatorial approach has never been higher. The US Congress recently probed whether social media algorithms are threatening the well-being of children, and new scholarship and books have focused fresh attention on the broad cultural consequences of letting algorithms curate our feeds. “I do think it reifies a lot of our cultural tastes in a way that at least I find concerning,” says Ryan Stoldt, an assistant professor at Drake University and member of the University of Iowa’s Algorithms and Culture Research Group.
In response to the growing sense of unease surrounding Big Tech’s mysterious recommender systems, digital refuges from the algorithm have begun to emerge. Entrepreneur Tyler Bainbridge is part of a nascent movement attempting to develop less-fraught alternatives to automated recommendations. He’s founder of PI.FYI, a social platform launched in January that hopes to, in Bainbridge’s words, “bring back human curation.”
Perfectly Imperfect, and a simple conceit: Humans should receive recommendations only from other humans, not machines. Users post recommendations for everything from consumer products to experiences such as “being in love” or “not telling men at bars you study philosophy,” and they also crowdsource answers to questions like “What did you read last week?” or “London dry cleaner?”
Posts on the platform are displayed in chronological order, although users can choose between seeing a feed of content only from friends and a firehose of everything posted to the service. PI.FYI’s homepage offers recommendations from a “hand-curated algorithm”—posts and profiles selected by site administrators and some carefully chosen users.
“People long for the days of not being bombarded by tailored ads everywhere they scroll,” Bainbridge says. PI.FYI’s revenue comes from user subscriptions, which start at $6 a month. While its design evokes an older version of the internet, Bainbridge says he wants to avoid creating an overly nostalgic facade. “This isn’t an app built for millennials who made MySpace,” he says, claiming that a significant portion of his user base are from Gen Z.
Spread, a social app currently in closed beta testing, is another attempt to provide a supposedly algorithm-free oasis. “I don’t know a single person in my life that doesn’t have a toxic relationship with some app on their phone,” says Stuart Rogers, Spread’s cofounder and CEO. “Our vision is that people will be able to actually curate their diets again based on real human recommendations, not what an algorithm deems will be most engaging, therefore also usually enraging,” he says.
On Spread, users can’t create or upload original text or media. Instead, all posts on the platform are links to content from other services, including news articles, songs, and video. Users can tune their chronological feeds by following other users or choosing to see more of a certain type of media.
