Wednesday, March 04, 2026

Soapbox Moment

Scrolling social media used to feel like stepping into a crowded city square. Noise, debate, art, nonsense, humanity. Now it feels like wandering through a fluorescent strip mall engineered by algorithms with a gambling addiction. Every other post is an ad promising that some AI will write your book, build your business, sculpt your abs, fix your trauma, and your AI GF will tuck you in at night. The future, apparently, is a subscription. Rent your intelligence. Lease your creativity. Finance your self worth.

AI as a tool for information, learning, building? That’s power. That’s progress. A hammer can build a house but it can also break a window depending on the hand that's holding it. When AI starts fabricating reality so well you can’t tell what’s human and what’s generated, trust becomes the casualty. If nothing is verifiable, everything feels staged. And a society that can’t tell what’s real starts to fracture.

And wedged between those miracle machines? Young women turning themselves into products for rent money and validation. Not empowerment. Not liberation. A marketplace where attention is currency and dignity gets discounted for engagement.

Social media was meant to connect the world. Instead, we engineered a carnival where the loudest salesman and the most exposed body wins the prize. It’s not morality I’m questioning. It’s the architecture. Who designed a system where the fastest way to be seen is to automate your humanity or auction it?

Fifteen years ago, if someone was called an “influencer,” it sounded almost sinister. Someone pulling strings in the shadows, like a spy thriller. Now it’s a job description, a mainstream career path. Build an audience. Monetize it. Sell products. Sell courses. Sell fantasies. Sell access. “Influencer marketing” is just exploitation with better lighting.

Let’s be honest about platforms like OnlyFans. It’s prostitution redesigned for WiFi. Explicit access sold to strangers who believe they’re in control because they pay monthly. The street corner went digital. The transaction stayed the same.

People call it empowerment. But empowerment without longevity is just a spotlight with a timer. Algorithms are fickle. Beauty ages. Someone younger, more provocative, more willing will always be waiting in the queue. What happens when the attention fades? When the money slows? When the internet remembers everything but forgives nothing? There’s no pension plan in selling your body online. No safety net. Just a highlight reel that never disappears and a culture quick to shame the same people it eagerly consumed.

And before anyone turns this into simple blame, zoom out. Why is this such a viable option? Why are so many boxed into a system where their value is measured in views, likes, and skin? Because we built an economy that rewards exposure faster than it rewards skill. We built platforms that convert insecurity into revenue with frightening efficiency.

If this is the attention economy, then we are both the product and the buyer. And business is booming. Maybe the rebellion now is depth. Skill. Privacy. Craft. Building something that still stands when the algorithm shifts. Real conversations that don’t come with a promo code. Real talent that doesn’t expire with youth.

Log off sometime. The real world doesn’t charge monthly. It doesn’t run on engagement metrics. And it still values substance over spectacle.

The real question isn’t whether we judge the players. It’s what kind of society built the game. 🎭

MaryAnn DiGiacomo Tribute Page