It’s 2026 and if you’re feeling overwhelmed, you’re not alone. Over the past decade, the structure of social media has changed completely. In 2016, the introduction of Instagram’s algorithmic feed on top of its infinite scroll spurred a massive shift in how we consume online media, saying goodbye to its reverse-chronology. Just a couple of years after that, the influence of computational models was intensified by TikTok’s For You Page, presenting recommended content rather than followed accounts or pages.
We’ve known for a while now that social media platforms created by Big Tech companies are designed to capitalise off our attention spans for as long as possible. It may come as no surprise that before founding Instagram, co-founder Mike Krieger followed a class on “captology”, learning about computers as persuasive technologies. Fast forward to today, and what we experience on these platforms feels increasingly fleeting and fragmented. Because by the time you’re done consuming your last piece of content, you’ve probably already forgotten where you started. And even attempts to resist these addictive technologies are outsourced to products we are sold, ranging from screentime limiting on smartphones to add-on physical objects like Tap Out and Brick.
Not all narratives, forms of storytelling, or information fit neatly within the constraints of these platforms. Creators are incentivised to make content that performs well and conforms to constantly changing algorithmic rules and expectations. And as viewers, scrolling through an ever-accelerating feed, the way we perceive and take in information, media, and culture has changed as well. Even how we think, how our brains process and react to information, has been shaped by these technologies. As just one example from the early days of Twitter (rip), users would notice that they would start thinking in max 140 characters. And that was two decades ago.
But is this potential rewiring of our brains necessarily a bad thing? Or are we seeing a shift away from linear text-based media forms that have organised much of contemporary human communication? And not to mention the speculations that short form video formats pushed by various platforms are ushering in a new age of orality, even more than the television did.
Where social media were once seen as democratising means—providing anyone with a smartphone and internet ways to amplify their voice—one can also see how a handful of Big Tech companies now engineer the absorption of dissent, deciding who gets prioritised and who gets shadowbanned. This, in combination with their addictive tactics, consolidates a huge amount of power and influence in just a few soft corporate hands—partly at the cost of legacy and public media like TV and newspapers, which despite their own flaws, are probably easier to keep accountable than their Big Tech counterparts.
For this year’s thematic focus, The Hmm will be looking at how these ways of organising and disseminating information have changed our perception and thinking. Is it all just part of persuasion tactics to gather data to sell and feed back to us, or are there alternative ways to understand and navigate these dizzying media labyrinths?
In this dossier we’re coming at these questions from many angles. Alina Lupu reflects on how images and narratives from the Iran war circulate through algorithmic feeds and short-form video platforms. Kevin Munger explains the ‘new orality’ and what we have to unlearn before we can even see it. Tara Kelton dives off the deep end to explore the brainrot character Job Job Job Sahur, while Livia Giannotti slows down by finding moments of awe when confronted with her Windows wallpaper. Macarena Magaña Villar finds herself in a cinema watching TikToks with strangers and realises the internet can still be a portal, not just a private hole to fall down. Marios Moros takes a deep dive into vagueposting and how it isn’t always about going viral. And through Livi Wilmore‘s interactive essay you can explore the need to find mindless soothing respite from information overload. Need a bit of clarity on some words and terms you’re stumbling upon in our dossier? Our glossary maps the infrastructure of how meaning moves online: the algorithmic physics that rewards outrage over nuance, the economic incentives that turn conversations into content farms, and the cognitive shortcuts we’ve developed to cope with information overload.