Against uniformity

The world is quietly becoming uniform. Not just in how we dress or decorate, but in how we think, create, and build. The same ideas circulate, rewritten in slightly different words. The same designs resurface, adjusted to the mood of the season. Even our opinions follow predictable arcs of what’s acceptable at a given moment.

Social media is one of the most visible expression of this drift. It’s not that people are told to conform, it’s that we are drawn, almost magnetically, to what is already familiar. Algorithms reward what performs, and what performs is rarely what surprises. What once felt like a space for expression has become an echo chamber of what’s already been validated.

Even contrarian opinions have been absorbed by the system. Rebellion now has its own template, its vocabulary, its tone. To be ‘different’ has become just another box to fit into, like a safe category of difference.

For a long time, I avoided communicating actively on social media. Partly because I didn’t think anyone cared about what I had to say, but mostly because I felt that to be heard, you had to speak in the language of what people already wanted to hear.

I now want to believe it’s possible to do things my way, to write, build, and share without following a playbook. To exist without seeking validation through sameness.

Uniformity is comfortable. It’s easier to replicate than to think, cheaper to imitate than to invent, safer to align than to question. It gives the illusion of progress while quietly erasing the friction that makes things meaningful.

But when everything starts to look the same, it becomes harder to imagine alternatives. The danger of uniformization isn’t simply that we all produce similar things, it’s that we start to believe there’s no other way to be.