Do I Need Deprogramming?

A couple of pieces of media have been affecting me in a big way recently. The first is Doppelganger, a book by Naomi Klein that tries to explore what she calls the "Mirror World" of alternative politics in the post-Covid internet age. It's extremely compelling, and often times a hard read.

The other piece of media is the podcast If Books Could Kill. This literary podcast is deeply unserious, very funny, and has played an equally substantial role in my minor existential wobble I'm in the midst of.

The real inciting incident, however, is the acquisition of a King Jim Pomera DM30, the very device I'm using to draft this on.

For those of you not in the know (and if you are in the know, I might say some things that sound rather disparaging), King Jim are a Japanese company that specialise in "writerdecks" - portable typewriters for the 2020s essentially. The Pomera DM30 has a nice folding design, a clean e-ink screen, and a very satisfying keyboard. It is also very expensive for what it is. I ended up discovering this subset of consumer electronics the same way most people did, the dedicated subreddit. Here, people compare every permutation of the niche tech, from genuinely very impressive homemade decks, to the kind of high-end product I'm using now. This is a pretty harmless and intriguing tech hobby by all accounts, but for me as an individual, I'm concerned that this might be a data point on a trend line I don't like the look of.

I was on the train to London, and I was reading the aforementioned book, Doppelganger. This book endeavours to cover a lot of ground, and does so very deftly, in an articulate, assertive and well-researched manner. There's very little conjecture, almost everything is backed up either by relevant studies or supporting literature. That's not to say the book is perfect, but it does an excellent job of tackling contentious topics in a way that doesn't feel heavy-handed, but still has an undeniable political thrust.

On the train, I was reading the chapter where she discusses the ostensibly unlikely partnership of far-right political pundits and what she calls "far-out" health commentators. People who leverage the public's (often-justified) mistrust of big pharma as a means of pushing anti-vax conspiracy theories, and selling home-made homeopathic remedies. The particular quote that got my back up was this:

What unites the far right and the far-out is the hustle on the one hand, and a faith in hyperindividualism on the other. In the alternative-health world, everyone is selling something: classes, retreats, sound baths, essential oils, anti-metal-toxin sprays, Himalayan salt rock lamps, coffee enemas. Supplements alone were worth an estimated $155 billion worldwide in 2022. It’s much the same on Bannon’s War Room or Alex Jones’s Infowars, with their manly supplements, survivalist supplies, Freedom Fests, precious metal offers, colloidal silver toothpaste, and weapons training—and let us not forget Tucker Carlson’s 2022 documentary in which he recommended that men regularly tan their testicles with a special infrared light in order to increase testosterone levels in preparation for the “hard times” ahead.

My initial reaction was the same as what I imagine most people would have. A kind of eye-rolling satisfaction that I knew better than these naïve people who had taken to buying these niche products to help themselves feel better about forces beyond their control. And then I realised that sounded eerily familiar. I was, after all, on my way to the National Gallery where I'd arranged to buy the writerdeck I'm writing this post on. What was I trying to achieve out of buying this device that these people aren't trying to achieve by buying into homeopathic medicine? Am I not also going to rather extreme lengths and spending my disposable income on trivial products that do very little but placate my anxieties about the control others have over me? You could run a find-and-replace on the above sentiment and swap big tech for big pharma and the anti-toxin paint for dumbphones, and you'd have a perfect analogue for the kind of consumer behaviour I'm partaking in.

Something Klein does regularly throughout the book is reiterate that when people exhibit a kind of conspiratorial thinking, it's because there's usually an undeniable truth at the centre of it. In the case of anti-vaxxers, they're not wrong to side-eye how big pharma was alarmingly fast and unapologetic in profiteering on the back of a global pandemic. Klein's concern is that bad actors (such as the Doppelganger in question, Naomi Wolf) use these undeniable truth as a means of first instilling fear, and then selling the solution to that fear.

This is a pattern I can identify readily in myself. I also feel that there's an undeniable truth at the centre of my concerns about my attention and privacy in 2026. As the YouTuber

pagemelt aptly puts it, "tech oligarchs see our collective attention as their manifest destiny". I don't think it's a stretch to suggest we are in some rather concerning times where the modern tech landscape is concerned, and I think a lot of people have a vague unanimous feeling in our gut about all of it. And then, there are people who notice that fear, and decide to capitalise on it. My previous post was about the side-effects of having used a dumbphone for three years, but one thing I neglected to mention is that that industry is experience a unique boom at the moment. Where there were once a handful of competitors in their own lane, there are now a dozen companies vying for the same market, people who are all desperately seeking a solution. Some of this is in good faith. I like to think that Joe and Kai, the guys who made the phone I use, came to this space early because they cared about this deeply, and want to offer a viable solution There are many other companies in the space who I don't believe are operating on the same good faith, and it shows. Many companies are settling for simply putting minimal launchers on now-defunct smartphone models and calling it a day. These are the people simply out to capitalise, and you can see the difference.

This is the same with any product line in any industry. An innovator sees a need, meets the demands, and then spends the next decade trying to convince their original market that they're still worth investing in over the imitators who are simply there because they smelled blood. However, it feels doubly strange when the market that's getting saturated is identifying as somewhat anti-consumerist. How much of that is genuine, and how much is simply gear acquisition syndrome? Did I really need this e-ink typewriter, or am I engaging in the same consumer behaviour as everyone else, disguised under a thin veil of smugness and self-optimisation? One thing that you notice when spending any time in an online space like r/dumbphones is that it's very rare for someone to buy a phone and simply stick with it. You'll see people cycle through multiple first-hand devices in order to find one that most fits their particular needs. I find this behaviour to be a bit problematic. It's hyper-consumerism with a particular ethical angle, but it's hyper consumerism nonetheless. By decentralizing the one smartphone you had, you're now supplementing those needs with additional tech, such as cameras, MP3 players, and, if you're really lost in the sauce, writerdecks. This feels like horseshoe theory in action. Through trying to resist the marketing of mainstream products, we've simply consumed the same amount of alternative products, provided by people who not only identified this market trend, but probably helped instigate it. The aesthetics of this consumer movement differ drastically, but the function is identical. A Chinese factory that makes both iPhones and flip phones would extremely pleased at the state of the market.

The caveat to this argument is that a lot of these things have to be second-hand purchases. It's not like there's a huge first-hand MP3 player market (just yet). This is the one policy I've tried to implement on my e-ink escapades, to only buy second-hand tech, unless totally unavoidable. But is it unavoidable, really? The two previous phones I've purchased, both Light Phones, have been first-hand purchases, the III being a pre-order. This is often the way you have to go when tech is made by smaller competitors, you invest either with a kickstarter or a similar mechanism, and then wait while the funds accrued get used to finish R&D, and you eventually get your order. Your only options in this space is either to get in on the ground floor, or wait a year or so until the second-hand market starts developing. Neither options are ideal, but when it comes to small business, you can see how it's kind of inevitable.

This is a pretty banal take, right? If you have to make consumption choices, you may as well make ones that reflect your personal values and the values of your subculture. You see this everywhere. Commuters buy Thinkpads and Stanley Cups. Zelda fans buy beige cargo shorts. Young professionals buy On trainers. Mods get particular haircuts and buy Vespas. Twenty-something white guys buy baseball caps with tiny logos or animals in the middle. It's a nice combination of self-expression and connecting with a wider community. I know for a fact that I've always been interested in alternative design, both inside and outside of technology. I've always been into headless/multiscale and extended-range guitars, freeline skates and minimalist devices. This isn't just because they're interesting alternatives being offered in the space, deep down this is also part of building a personal brand, something that helps me stand out and have a conversation starter. That's a cynical look at it, and not the sole reason of course, but I know it to be true to a degree.

So why am I concerned about the demographic of e-ink device user that I find myself in? Surely this is just a marketing demographic like any other. Maybe my hang-up is just that, that I can identify the ways in which I'm being successfully marketed to, and that's enough to give me the ick about it all. However, I do think there's something else going on here.

Enter the second destabilising piece of media, If Books Could Kill. Hosted by Michael Hobbes and Peter Shamshiri, this literary review podcast focuses exclusively on the subgenre of "airport books", the kind of vapid self-help you associate with a kind of frequent-flyer professional and their outlook on life. This is when I started to see a pattern emerging, because while I'm not into airport books, I'm not _not susceptible_ to airport books. I still think Atomic Habits, for its' many flaws, is still underrated and misinterpreted. I got a great deal out of Bounce by Matthew Syed, even if it ends on the most bizarre and out-of-place final chapter of all time. I think I take some of these ideas somewhat uncritically, and the podcast demonstrated this repeatedly. The hosts would read a direct quote from the book, I'd catch myself agreeing to the statement on some level, and then the hosts burst out laughing at how ridiculous the thing they just read is. This has been an interesting experience to have, and a good one overall. Much like the other marketing practices I mentioned, airport book authors aren't starting from a place of total fantasy. They often start with ideas that are demonstrably true or harmless, and expand out from there into whatever bizarre (or recycled) thesis they're trying to sell. I believe that my particular vulnerability to some of these ideas comes from the same mindset that leaves me vulnerable to device decentralisation. It's a thing I'm calling LoFi Liberalism.

LoFi liberalism is a coagulation of a few different aesthetics and schools of thought. They include digital minimalism, a bit of productivity, and a political leaning that tends to skew anti-authority in a quite general sense. The logic operates like this: you have sovereignty over your time, attention and money. Anyone that tries to claim too much of any of these things is never doing so in your interest; all of these resources, particularly your attention, are constantly under attack, in an attempt to make you into a conduit for their methods of thinking, in order to extract maximum value from you. In order to protect yourself, some fairly drastic borders need to be put in place. You use restrictive devices in order to maximise your presence in everyday life. For some, this also extends to other products like barefoot running shoes, raw meat diets, e-ink alarm clocks; all kinds of things marketed towards those who want to rid themselves of a toxin that, while hard to define, is definitely present and detrimental to them. Obviously, this is something I resonate with. It may sound like I'm straw-manning this argument -- and in a way, I am -- but I'm also laying out a bit of a thesis. A lot of people poke fun at conspiracy theorists and neoliberals because the common attitude is that "you have to protect yourself", but I do kind of find myself in agreement. When it comes to the attack on my attention and intention from all angles, I do feel a need to insulate myself from things that I feel actively harm me. The issue is that a lot of our efforts stop there, at the effects on ourselves.

These trends I'm noticing in myself all point in one direction: self-determination at all costs. I don't just want to reduce my contact with entities that don't value my time or attention, that is true. I resent our manufactured consent in big tech's land grab for our collective subconscious. My attention and cognitive function are not theirs to claim, and I want to do what I see fit with it. It's not just how I conduct myself as an independent professional, it's also how I spend my leisure time. The question at hand really is existential in meaning and scope.

However, my concern is that all of the time and attention I'm reclaiming are only being invested back in myself as an individual, and they're not being invested outwards enough. And outside of this niche consumer-base, I think this is part of a larger pattern. In an interview with Joshua Citeralla, Matty Healy says that "the mandate of neoliberalism is that you must self-determine". It's the right that presupposes all others, and even in my effort to self-determine away from what I think is being asked of me, I've still only ever championed my own individualism at the cost of investing in a community. Much like consumerism, self-determination but low-tech doesn't make much of a difference to the people that profit off of your determination, be that supplement companies, salt lamp manufacturers, or people marketing e-ink products of all kinds.

This root of truth is what's grown into the entire messy low-tech industry. The aforementioned companies selling kneecapped Motorollas with half-baked operating systems are trying to muscle in on this sentiment, using all the buzzwords in the hope that some of them will stick. This is also prevalent on the influencer level, with plenty of creators and commentators only ever being able to discuss tech and other elements of life through the lens of minimalism, and not through what that minimalism actually enables. We see this in the airport book consumer-base regularly, people who are obsessed with being productive and optimal, and all they end up doing with their time is reading more productivity books. Identically, if you liberate all of your spare time and attention from the dreaded doomscroll, it would behove you to read some fiction, as opposed to an endless stream of gradually worsening and repeating books about how phones are bad, and that getting up at 5am is good apparently. You've already done the hard part and regained a ton of faculty, you can use it for more than just endless self-optimization. It can be too easy to throw out all of the pleasure when trying to get rid of the poison.

Our right and ability to focus on ourselves as individuals above all else is a huge market, and it's having a cultural effect.

Run Clubs.

I've been running seriously since the tail-end of 2022 , when I started training for the 2023 Brighton marathon. That first marathon was a rough race, and since then I've gotten much more involved in the running space, watching heaps of videos and reading heaps of posts comparing different shoe brands, talking about proper technique, and runners documenting their experiences in all kinds of races and events around the world. This has been unequivocally beneficial for me to take seriously at this time in my life, and I'm glad I have something central to my wellbeing as simple as running. However, the scene at large I find to be troubling in the same way as I find the strand of tech space I find myself in. When I attend a run club or a Parkrun, it doesn't feel like we're here to play a team sport or take an interest in our mutual development as runners. This is a collection of individuals who are here to self-determine. There is also the issue of people who take these kinds of events deadly seriously. In the world of Parkrun, there's a whole swathe of YouTubers who have made it their entire brand to go to what are supposed to be community running events, and race like they're trying to qualify for the Olympics. It's tiresome and jarring. There are reports of runners having no respect for other people in parks or on streets, because God forbid somebody using a cycle lane on a Saturday morning get in the way of your PB.

Another way I find running and tech communities similarly problematic is the surreal amount of over-consumption that happens in running. Much like r/dumbphones, a brief foray into r/runningshoegeeks will highlight an almost identical behaviour pattern; buying dozes of first-hand, factory-made items to see which ones suit you best. I'm sure there is some level of merit when people discuss different types of foams and similar minutiae, but part of me suspects that a lot of this is a placebo-effect-induced illusion of difference far greater than is actually occurring in reality. When Kofuzi claims that a shoe is "chaotic", what does he actually mean by that? How much can constructively be said when comparing running shoes? According to this subreddit, every shoe is a universe unto itself, and that is justification for having a collection that is frankly eye-watering. This is leaving the economics of this aside for the most part, but to touch on that running shoes are, proportionally, one of the most marked up product being sold. These companies are generating unjustified amounts of hype for the most miniscule of changes yearly, and putting extortionate price-tags on these products while the people responsible for putting them together barely make a wage at all, let alone a living one. If it sounds like I'm trying to directly equate the shoe landscape and the phone landscape, that's because I am.

To use a more direct example, one of the pairs of running shoes I've used over the last year is the Asics Gel Kayano 30. I happen to like this shoe quite a bit, and when I was looking at some of the press around the shoe, one of the noteworthy additions they made for added support was a slanted pattern in the heel of the foam. This is all well and good, until you look at the model that came out just a year later, the Kayano 31. Sure enough, the revolutionarily good heel-slant is now removed again. These people are making things up. They're making small, non-consequential changes for the sole reason of having a new product to plug every year despite the one you currently have still being able to suit you for the next couple of years at the least. We also have the same attitude towards obsolescence, replacing shoes much earlier than we likely need to, because we measure them in the number of miles run in them instead of their actual condition. And then there's the *foams themselves*.

I'll keep this limited to the brand that I've used regularly, Asics. In the "Blast" range of shoes, we currently have the following to pick from: The Novablast 5, the Superblast 2, the Megablast, and the Sonicblast. This is discounting all the other kinds of models Asics are also actively selling, but the reason this is fascinating is because there are different foams in all of these shoes. The Novablast has FFBlast Max, the Suberblast has FF Turbo+ and FFBlast+, and the Megablast and the Sonicblast both use FFTurbo SQUARED. Other Asics foams include FFLeap and FFBlast Eco. I refuse to believe that any of these self-professed running shoe geeks would be able to differentiate between any of these foams in a blind test; this is all arbitrary marketing, the smallest possible yearly change for the largest amount of yearly gain.

Running is, necessarily, an individual sport, aside from specific team-based competitive settings. Discounting that edge case, running is the sport of the self-motivated and self-actualised. This image is omnipresent in running marketing, full of people given an almost superhuman editing treatment as they do their 5:30am 5K. An aside to this would also be the supplement industry every January, telling us to tap into our Main Character Energy among other things. Giving credit where it's due, I do think one of the positive aspects of these ads is the representation present, with companies doing a reasonably good job showing running as an activity undertaken by plenty of individuals, but that's exactly what it is. It's a large collective of individuals. When I'm out on my long runs along the sea front, there are plenty of other runners, and there's the odd moment of camaraderie and connection from this. It's nice to mutually recognise the effort being made. But aside from that, it's worth thinking about activities like running on a cultural scale. The most common form of exercise most of us are partaking in is deeply individual, and I don't believe it to be a coincidence that it's taking off in the way that it is at the time that it is. In a neoliberal culture, we have to self determine, and most of us are self-determining 5 kilometres at a time, with our headphones in, in the early hours before we self-determine at work

Is there any other way this can be done? Is this a problem, or am I just pointing out another benign truth? I believe it's a bit of both. An example of an individual sport with a communal spirit, in my experience, is bouldering. Bouldering offers the same kind of singular progression as running, but the communal attitude in a bouldering gym is palpable. I often go on my own, and even then I'll be able to talk through boulder problems I'm struggling on with total strangers, who are happy to give me pointers while I'm climbing. If there's a particularly challenging new route in the gym, you'll often a find a whole group of climbers discussing and workshopping it. The resulting difference in atmosphere and attitude is totally different from that of a run club. At a run club, most the conversations you have are facilitated by the running, and not inherently about or related to running. It gives the feeling of a professional networking event, but at 7am.

To do further self-examination, I'm sure a lot of this mindset has been forged under pressure. I've been self-employed ever since leaving university. I've never really had external motivators outside of deadlines. Anything that needs to happen in my life, I have to make happen. It makes me the perfect market for the kind of self-determined thinking I'm talking about, because every aspect of my life hinges on the fact that I'm constantly self-determining. And this isn't just a financial pressure either. I keep up a regular practice routine because I want to stay active and good enough for the music industry. I keep up an exercise routine because I'm starting to feel my body change in a way that might be detrimental if I'm not serious and proactive right now. This has led to a great deal of undeniable positive changes; I'm a confident musician, I'm in good health, and I'm still in the same profession as I was when I started out, these are all great things that are a direct result of my very intentional efforts. The conflict that arises is that I want to start dedicating more time to others, but the concern is that it comes at the direct expense of some of that stability I've worked hard to attain. Whether that's an actual concern, or one that's simply been conditioned into me, it's hard to say.

It's all well and good to make all these observations, but what am I suggesting we do about it? I'm not suggesting stopping trying. Trying is excellent, and any work that we do on ourselves is still a vitally important thing. Being the best version of yourself is a potentially beautiful thing, and if there's an area of your life you want to improve on, you shouldn't let any amount of griefing about the cult of the individual stop you. What I'm wondering about is whether any actions we take to better ourselves are necessarily opposed to any actions we may take to better our communities. Is it possible to do both simultaneously?

I like to think there's a sensible way of employing this mindset; one that means you can have you cake and eat it. One can keep their self-optimisation and also use it to invest in their scene. Colloquially, let's call these "points of contact". Points of contacts are communal meetings of individual craftspeople, of any kind. The relevant example from my life is the regular Show and Tell night that I've started to be part of. Once a month or so, local artists, be it filmmakers, songwriters, poets or authors, meet up and showcase their works in progress. It's not dissimilar to an open mic night, but there's something much more omnidirectional and non-competitive in its' atmosphere. Everyone listens attentively, feedback is given when requested, and it never feels like anyone is there cynically or competitively. These are all creatives who, without this regular point of contact, would still be doing what they do, but with one less avenue to come together and showcase their work. It's a place to showcase what you do without feeling like you need to plug your wares or sell merch. The art comes first. This also works in tandem with people who work hard on their art, and not in spite of it. You go away, you put in the hours, and then you have a place to show the results that is without the pressure or formality of a regular gig/exhibition/reading. Jazz jams -- when done right -- have a similar great energy. This is a collection of people who are dedicated and studious, often in a quite solitary way. Then, they get the opportunity to come out and use their skills in a pro-communal way while also gaining skills through improvising with other equally dedicated musicians.

Even directly competitive meetings, like Super Smash Bros. Melee tournaments, have a wonderful communal and grassroots feel to them when approached with the right attitude. People coming together to actively run tournaments for a game from 2001 is inherently a beautiful thing. The communal energy of people who care about the game and still practice it, but play the game for something other than their placement in a tournament, is similar to the best jazz jam you can go to.

Despite my previous dubious attitude towards run clubs, I'd say that the exception that proves the rule is actual races. Sine 2023 I've run four races, two half marathons and two marathons. The outpouring of energy and generosity from spectators, the entrainment with 50,000 other people with an identical goal, really makes all the training worth it. Training for a marathon is almost always a lonely endeavour, but the culminating race is always the perfect point of contact to end on. It's emotional, it's euphoric, and it's something felt as a collective of people who've worked insanely hard to get there.

The power of scenes isn't a new thing, this is what the entirity of genres like jazz and hip-hop are founded on; artists and musicians practice in private, commune in groups, and add to the quality of each other's craft. This is what Brian Eno famously called "scenius", and it's also why the best room in the Van Gogh museum is the one dedicated to all of his contemporaries. You can see the influence that skilled artists have on each other when there's a place to commune and share technique and philosophy. It's better for the art, and better for the artists. What other reason do we need to take this seriously?

There's one example of this from when I was growing up that I don't see talked about enough, and that is the advent of Btown. In 2013, Birmingham started producing a few decently successful bands. All playing some kind of indie pop, these were bands like Swim Deep, Peace, Sky Children. All of these bands could have had relative success had they all gone out on their own and taken the same route that bands of their style and size take. The thing that made these bands different was that they decided to pool their efforts. Instead of exporting their own music and image as their respective branding, they exported Birmingham as a cultural place as their brand. They had a common umbrella to unite under, and a powerful story; this is a city full of grassroots artists communicating together. Bands who partook in and identified with Btown saw a huge signal boost from this, reaching many more listeners. This is because they weren't competing with each other to try and get out of Birmingham, they were collectively bringing the magic of being part of a creative scene to people weren't in it. Maybe the reason I think back on this era of music fondly is because I also live in a city beginning with a B (Brighton), and said city is bursting at the seams with incredible art. I believe that through a combination of dedicated individual practice and regular communal, constructive contact, we could really put this city on the map. Instead of competing for what resources there are, a team effort would ensure that, just like Btown 13 years ago, we're showing people what an amazing place this is, and bringing much more collective attention to our scene than we'd all be bringing as individuals.

To wrap this all up, I don't think I have a issue here. I have a strong desire to make sure that I'm spending the time I want to on making art, and getting better at what I do. I'm trying to stay fit and earn money and enjoy myself in a time and economy where all of those things are a direct product of my own volition of all times - of course I'm going to be invested in methods for saving and making the most of my time. I'm now trying to do the rest of the work, and reinvest some of that power and energy into my scene. I'm also trying to live without some kind of big main antagonist, as difficult as that might often feel.

I was talking to a friend about this whole topic, and he said something that I want to end on:

"If you can't control your leisure, how are you gonna control your relationship to the means of production?"

Thanks for reading.