It’s Hard to Find Answers in a World Full of Noise
For a while now, I've been on the hunt for a new monitor. The one on my desktop is an old 24-inch LG, 4K, but for some unknown reason, it starts to bother my eyes after a couple of hours. This doesn't happen with other monitors, nor with my laptop. It wasn't always like this, which leads me to believe the issue might be related to age (either mine or the monitor's).
As I've often done over the years, I started my research online. Unfortunately, as is often the case recently, my searches didn't yield the desired results. I found hundreds of posts and reviews focusing on gaming monitors, not to mention the useless sponsored reviews or the far-fetched ones on e-commerce sites. Ultimately, I tried to piece together the information I could find and convinced myself that for a 24-inch screen, FullHD would be sufficient, provided it had a good panel and some eye-strain reduction certification.
The result? I bought a monitor that only partially satisfies me. The quality is good, but the resolution is too low for my habits and expectations. And I'm disappointed in myself and the research I conducted.
This experience led me to mentally retrace the history of my time online, and what I've observed on the internet for many years.
I remember the dawn of my online experience. For providers, the business was about selling network access and the ability to have an online presence, giving people the chance to reach the whole world. Gradually, shops, newspapers, and information sites emerged. Their goal was to sell their services THROUGH the internet, increasing their visibility and market reach.
Suddenly, someone realized that amidst this vast collection of sites and information, advertisements could be placed. All at once, many sites started displaying ad banners that helped both companies gain visibility and site owners earn a little extra. Search engines like Google were efficient and reliable (I still remember how we "techies" welcomed it) and helped people find products and content.
As time went on, ads multiplied, and e-commerce became dominant. The business model shifted to earning ON the internet (through views, ads, selling services, and products online) rather than THROUGH it. The market changed, content consumption changed. We reached a point where browsing without an ad-blocker became frustrating. Every site, even the most innocuous, bombards you with banners, commercials, and ads of all kinds, so intrusive they compromise the browsing experience itself. YouTube shows an ad every few minutes (unless, of course, you pay for Premium), and it's the same everywhere else.
The problem, therefore, stems from this business model. The internet is no longer a means to reach the customer, but a battlefield to "ensnare" them. Cloud services that are easy to get into but impossible to leave, expensive and restrictive SaaS, a total loss of information freedom, a total loss of control of our data.
And today? The internet seems like a modern evolution of "The Game of Life." For those unfamiliar, "The Game of Life" isn't a game in the traditional sense, but a cellular automaton devised by British mathematician John Conway. It consists of a grid of cells that can be "alive" or "dead," evolving through generations based on a few simple rules applied to their neighbors. Despite these simple rules, it can produce incredibly complex and emergent patterns, almost like a simulation of life itself. Similarly, on today's internet, bots, algorithms, AI, and automated systems manage, create, consume, push, evangelize, politicize, and incite, often with unpredictable and far-reaching consequences. The internet is now in everyone's hands, yet it belongs to no one. We no longer possess the tool; the tool (and those who control it) possesses us.
I shared my monitor experience on the Fediverse. Within minutes, dozens of replies poured in with advice and shared experiences. I should have posted before buying, but it's a lesson learned.
The FullHD monitor will go to my office; it'll be efficient and look good on the desk. I'll get another, more suitable one, and chalk this up to experience. Fortunately, there are still ways to interact with real humans. At least for now.