The Dark Side of Social Media: Algorithm Exploitation, Surveillance Capitalism, and the Illusion of Connection
When I first joined Instagram and TikTok as a new business owner, I was bombarded with accounts from creators about how I needed to show up in these spaces—to make money, get followers, and grow my audience. Marketing on these platforms was new to me, and to be honest, marketing, in general, gives me the biggest ick.
But as a new business owner, I knew I had to at least try. So I did my research, tested strategies, and quickly saw how the algorithms worked.
And let me tell you—I fucking hate them.
The hyper-monetization of these platforms is not just unethical—it’s exploitative. Everyone wants a piece of the digital economy, but the strings are pulled by none other than Mark Zuckerberg and Shou Zi Chew, who profit off our personal data, behaviors, and digital addictions. The algorithm isn’t just deciding what we see; it’s controlling who gets heard, who gets buried, and who has to pay to participate (look up shadow banning). It’s a system designed to manipulate, extract, and commodify human connection—forcing creators to pay just to reach the very people they built their communities for.
And worse? These platforms aren’t just selling ad space. They’re selling us.
Why I Deleted IG and TikTok: The Algorithm is a Scam—And It’s Surveillance Capitalism in Action
Think about it: There are millions of users, yet my posts—something I put time, effort, and intention into—sometimes didn’t get a single view.
How does that make sense?
I was playing a game where the rules constantly changed, and the house always won. I kept telling myself, “I need to be on these platforms to reach people.” But every time I invested energy into them, I was met with Meta and TikTok pushing ads in my face, telling me to pay for visibility.
But it’s deeper than just an unfair algorithm. This is surveillance capitalism at work.
What is Surveillance Capitalism?
Coined by Harvard scholar Shoshana Zuboff, surveillance capitalism is an economic system where companies collect vast amounts of personal data—without explicit consent—to predict, manipulate, and profit off human behavior.
In simpler terms? We are the product.
These platforms don’t just track what we post or like. They track:
✔️ What we pause on while scrolling
✔️ How long we watch a video
✔️ Our facial expressions via front cameras
✔️ Our location and movement patterns
✔️ Who we interact with and when
Then, they package that data, analyze our behaviors, and sell us to advertisers who use it to shape our choices—what we buy, how we vote, what we believe.
Ever searched for something random, only to see ads for it minutes later? That’s not a coincidence. That’s the system working exactly as designed. Creepy, right?
IG and Tik Tok Have Rewritten the Rules of Human Connection
Beyond the business side of things, I started feeling the deeper impact of social media on human connection.
I’ve always had a hot-cold relationship with these platforms. Back in the day, I loved MySpace—the music, the coding, the way it encouraged individuality. But I was a late adopter of Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok, and even when I used them, I was too conscientious about their harm to fully embrace them.
I also noticed how addictive they can be—how they started creeping into my habits, affecting my self-esteem and mental health in ways that felt almost imperceptible at first. The endless doom scrolling, now so normalized, became just another thing we all do—rarely stopping to ask why this is happening or what it’s doing to us. Instead of questioning it, we accept it as inevitable, even though we have the power to disrupt and change it.
Now, after years of observing their effects, I see how they have reshaped our social contracts and relationships—and not in a good way.
On my personal account, I had a few hundred followers, yet I genuinely only talked to about five of them. I knew what was happening in people’s lives, jobs, and kids—but we didn’t actually talk. That’s not connection. That’s surveillance disguised as community.
This illusion of closeness, where we “keep up” with people without actually engaging with them, breeds loneliness rather than alleviating it. And on a personal level, I felt that loneliness deeply.
The Final Straw: When Platforms Become Political Weapons
The moment I knew I had to leave was when the mask fully slipped—when these platforms stopped pretending to be neutral spaces and revealed themselves. It was the pattern of blatant politicization, unchecked censorship, and the slow erosion of integrity that made it impossible to ignore what these platforms had become.
The way TikTok was temporarily shut down, only to return with people thanking a corrupt administration?
The way Meta has rolled back fact-checking, allowing disinformation and hate speech to flourish?
The way political movements are de-platformed while corporations and governments continue to exploit our data for power?
See here [Leaked Meta Rules] and here [political buyout].
After TikTok was restored, my feed was suddenly flooded with clips of the inauguration and Trump’s family—post after post pushing the same narrative. It felt orchestrated. As someone who adamantly opposes this man and everything he stands for, it was a glaring red flag.
I am 17 years older than Kai Trump, his granddaughter, yet her golfing videos were showing up on my “For You” page—on my business account. Inauguration updates dominated my feed, even though I hadn’t received anything remotely similar in the days prior. Why now? Why this? At that moment, it became undeniable—these platforms aren’t just biased; they’ve been compromised.
Modern-day propaganda.
I knew these spaces were rigged, but this made it impossible to ignore.
Meta, never again.
Zuckerberg getting rich off my data? Hell no.
The line keeps getting crossed, over and over again, desensitizing us.
And I refuse to be complicit.
A Matter of Principle and Integrity
Imagine this scenario in real life:
You’re in a massive social space.
You see people spreading misinformation, spewing hate, and manipulating the environment for profit and political gains.
Would you stand there and say nothing?
Would you let it continue, knowing that silence enables harm?
I won’t. And I am taking a stand now.
I refuse to support platforms that strip away integrity, real connection, and ethical communication.
I refuse to participate in a system that profits from our loneliness, fuels division, and thrives on manufactured living—all while monetizing every aspect of our lives.
And I know there are better ways to communicate, to connect, to build community.
So I’m stepping away from these platforms and seeking something different—something that even remotely aligns with ethics and integrity.
What Kind of Person Are You?
I won’t tell you what to do. But I hope I’ve made you rethink.
And I will ask: What kind of person do you want to be?
Will you stand by and accept a system that exploits, manipulates, and profits off of our lives?
Or will you choose something better?
I’ve made my choice.
What’s yours?
Read on Substack | Why I deleted IG and Tik Tok
Let's grow —together,
Miriam🌿

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