The Internet Has Become a Cage, Not a Tool

Lately, I haven’t been “online” as much. Not in the way I used to be, at least.

I’ve quietly backed away. I’ve been bored by it and overwhelmed by it. And more aware than ever of how much it impacts my mind, my nervous system, and the tone of my entire day. What used to feel like a portal of possibility now feels like walking into a hall of smoke and mirrors.

Most days, I find myself trying to read between the lines of whatever the “breaking news” is… trying to make sense of the pattern beneath the noise, the story behind the story. And the more I pay attention, the clearer it becomes: the internet isn’t just a tool for information anymore, it’s a tool for control.

As the U.S. continues its descent into fascism, it’s impossible to ignore how our digital worlds are being weaponized. Not just by corporations, but by governments. Platforms we once used to speak truth, organize, and connect are now flooded with propaganda, filtered narratives, and carefully crafted chaos. The internet is being used to suppress, manipulate, distract, and pacify us, and it’s working.

It’s made it nearly impossible to use social media “for business” in the way I used to. Marketing through these platforms feels murky, unreliable, and, if I’m being honest, pretty fake. The performative nature of it all feels so far from the kind of creative, liberating work I want to be involved in.

Have you noticed the way we’re pulled into distraction just when things feel like they’re falling apart?

Take *Love Island*, for example. A reality show about dating in a villa becomes a full-blown digital spectacle. You’ve got live recaps, TikTok theories, meme accounts, astrology breakdowns, interviews, brand deals, and algorithm-fed outrage or obsession, depending on which character arc you’re being nudged to follow that week.
It’s easy to laugh it off. It’s just a show, right? But what I keep coming back to is *how perfectly it illustrates the machine we’re inside of*.

When everything around us feels unstable or too painful to process, when the headlines are numbing, the politics are cruel, and the systems are cracking, mass distraction steps in. The attention economy knows we’re tired. It knows we want to feel something. So it gives us constant content, carefully engineered to keep us hooked, reactive, and just entertained enough to stay quiet.

This isn’t a glitch. It’s the business model.

And while we’re in the villa, so to speak, glued to the drama, the algorithm keeps collecting our data, learning our behaviors, and feeding us more of the same.

All while our creativity, our peace of mind, and our agency quietly get pulled further away.

The original promise of the Internet was access to knowledge and the world. What we got was content overload, surveillance disguised as convenience, dopamine loops disguised as inspiration, and a never-ending hamster wheel that rewards us for being loud, reactive, and always on.

And that’s where this story begins.

“We’re overwhelmed, overworked, overstimulated… and many of us are quietly grieving the gap between the world we want and the one we live in. And when people are burnt out and losing trust in the systems meant to care for them, it’s human to reach for relief. For escape. For something, anything, that helps us forget the noise for a little while.”

Understanding the Attention Economy

Simply put, the Attention Economy functions under the following beliefs:

You’re not the customer. You’re the product.
Your attention? That’s their revenue stream.
Your scroll time? That’s their data goldmine.

The longer you stay online, the more ads can be sold, the more your behavior can be tracked, and the more predictive your future behavior becomes. But it doesn’t stop there.

This isn’t just about marketing or “big tech” greed. It’s about control. It’s about capitalism, supremacy, and fascism all working together in the background, camouflaged in aesthetic feeds, viral dances, breaking news alerts, and productivity hacks.

Here’s how it plays out:

**Capitalism** thrives on your exhaustion. It needs you to keep consuming more products, more content, more dopamine hits, so you never have the space to question the system itself. The attention economy keeps your nervous system in survival mode so you stay stuck in cycles of overwork and overconsumption.
**White supremacy** depends on distraction. If we’re too busy scrolling, arguing in comments, or trying to grow a brand, we’re less likely to organize, imagine alternatives, or center justice. Platforms prioritize outrage because it keeps people reactive, divided, and profitable. It rewards dehumanization and erases nuance, two conditions in which supremacy quietly flourishes.
**Fascism** uses the internet as a propaganda machine. It floods timelines with false equivalencies, conspiracy, performative nationalism, and culture war bait. It radicalizes through memes. It numbs us with breaking news until we feel powerless to respond. And all of it is made possible by the same data pipelines that sell us skincare and sweatpants.

It’s not about connection. It’s about conversion.
It’s not about meaning. It’s about metrics.
It’s not about your well-being. It’s about their bottom line.

And when your creativity, your curiosity, and your nervous system are shaped by that environment every day—how could you not feel burnt out, anxious, and disconnected?

This isn’t your fault.
But it is your wake-up call.

Reclaiming Our Creative Power Through Digital Autonomy and Attention Sovereignty

Let’s get something clear: this doesn’t have to be about dropping off the grid and disappearing into the woods (though if that’s your path, we love that for you). This is about reclaiming your agency in a digital landscape that profits off your distraction, confusion, and burnout.

Digital Autonomy means you get to choose how and when you show up online.
Attention Sovereignty means your time, energy, and focus return to your own care, not the algorithm’s.

These aren’t abstract ideals, they’re lifelines. Because reclaiming your attention is an act of creative rebellion in a world built to keep you overwhelmed and disconnected from your own voice.

Here’s how we begin.

Recognize the Trap: The Hamster Wheel Is Not the Only Option

If you’ve felt any of the following, you’re not alone… and you’re not failing. You’re simply living inside a system designed to keep you producing, scrolling, and doubting your enough-ness:

You feel guilty for not posting “consistently”
You scroll “for inspiration” and leave feeling anxious or drained
You’re growing followers but feel like you’re losing your creative center

These are symptoms of the attention economy at work. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just caught in a system that profits when you doubt yourself.

The first step toward freedom? Noticing. Naming it. And choosing not to play the same game.

Imagine Something Better: Visions for a Decentralized, Consent-Based Internet

The internet didn’t start this way.

Once, it was about curiosity, creativity, and conversation. Now, it’s a machine designed to extract attention and sell predictability. But that’s not the only version of the web that exists.

Here’s what’s possible instead:

Community-owned platforms where creators have a stake and a say
Creator-first spaces like Substack, Ghost, and Are.na—built for depth, not dopamine
Tiny, thriving ecosystems like niche newsletters, private memberships, and seasonal blogs
Open-source social like Mastodon or Pixelfed, where you control your data
Consent as the norm, not as a checkbox buried in fine print

Redefine What It Means to Be a Creator

Being a creator used to mean making things. Now, it often means managing a brand, chasing numbers, and constantly proving your worth.

Let’s rewrite that story.

Make art that doesn’t beg for approval.

Release the need for permission from the algorithm to express myself.

Measure success on your own terms, based on how it feels, not how it performs.

Set creative boundaries: “I don’t post every day, I create when it is aligned.”

Build your own digital home: a blog, a website, a seasonal zine.

Choose platforms intentionally: What aligns with your values? What nourishes you?

Ask yourself regularly:

“Does this platform support the kind of relationships I want to build?”
If the answer is no, you’re allowed to pivot.

Begin Your Digital Reclamation

You don’t need a total digital detox to reclaim your agency. You just need to start somewhere:

Set tech boundaries: screen-free mornings, intentional scroll windows, “Do Not Disturb” sacred hours.
Move one piece of your creative work off social: publish it in a zine, a blog post, or even a newsletter for ten people who actually care.
Connect in more real ways: write emails, send voice notes, host tiny in-person gatherings.
Take a week, a month, or a. year off from creating for platforms: Just make something for you. No likes. No hashtags. No outcomes being chased.

Ready to Reclaim Your Attention?

You don’t have to burn it all down or have a perfect plan. Reclaiming your attention starts with a choice. A pause. A deep breath. A decision to stop feeding the machine—and start feeding your spirit instead.

Ask yourself:

What would it feel like to make content slower?
To create without chasing performance?
To build a digital space that reflects your truth, not just your strategy?

New here? Join our Substack community, a space that doesn’t mine your attention, but honors it. Curious about deeper support? Explore our creative mentoring sessions designed to help you cultivate a digital ecosystem rooted in your values, your pace, and your creative truth.

Let’s unhook from the noise.
Let’s build something more human.
Something we’ll be proud to pass on to future generations.

The internet isn’t gone.
But the way we use it? That’s ours to reclaim.

Until next time…

Natalie Brite | DoGoodBiz Studio

Reclaiming Your Attention: A Creative’s Guide to Navigating the Attention Economy