From David Perell's blog:
I’m in San Sebastián, Spain, but I could really be anywhere. I’ve flown halfway across the world, but from inside this coffee shop, I can’t tell what country I’m in.
They say that travel allows you to see different ways of living, but that’s definitely not what I’m doing. As I drink this latte, I might as well be back in New York.
All around, I’m struck by disappearing diversity. The world is becoming optimized for the dominant aesthetic of the internet. I swear: every trendy, optimized-for-algorithms place has the same lights, the same chairs, and the same damn avocado toast.
In some way, generic styles are nothing new. Hotel brands promise a consistent, yet sterile, customer experience no matter where you are. Walk into a Hilton or a Holiday Inn and you know what you’re going to get. The clerk at the check-in counter will speak English and there will be a rotating waffle maker at the continental breakfast. Airports and shopping malls are similarly predictable.
The issue is this: hotel visitors know they’re getting something generic. That’s the point. Mid-tier hotels advertise safety and reliability. They sell risk minimization, not experience maximization. Algorithms, though, advertise authenticity while selling commodities. Algorithms trick us into thinking we’re getting real and authentic experiences, when in fact, we’re getting the opposite.
In the internet age, feedback loops move quickly between the real world, Instagram and back again. Once-hidden restaurants, featured on Anthony Bourdain's Parts Unknown, are now well-known and commercialized. Retail stores and sightseeing tours are impacted as much as restaurants. Ready-to-purchase, authentic experiences only exist for a short time. This drives an eternal commercial loop: At first, authentic travel experiences such as tours and cooking classes are too expensive to buy. As they gain popularity, they become standardized and mass-produced. As their price drops and these experiences lose their authenticity, artisans arrive with niche, personality-driven products, which kickstarts this commercial loop all over again.
A Push Towards Algorithms
As I reflect on recent trips to Spain, Australia, and Mexico, I can’t help but think how little the best parts of travel have been changed by technology. In fact, the best parts of travel are precisely the things that technology cannot touch.
One caveat: Avoiding algorithms doesn’t apply to traveling in beautiful places. I depend on algorithms in expansive natural parks. When I’m in Patagonia, I want to do the best hike. In Alaska, I was to see the prettiest glacier. The focus is on nature, not people. Depending on algorithms, however, doesn’t work as well in cities, where culture is more important than geography. City travel works best when we put down our phones, seek serendipity, and lean into another culture.
Distinct, foreign experiences in cities — which evolve around people —cannot be bought or sold.¹ They can’t be found in guidebooks and you’ll find no reviews on Yelp. More, as I scroll down these algorithmic websites, I find bland experience after bland experience. When we rely too much on algorithms, we travel around the world and end up with the same experiences we’d find in our backyard....
