
Digitizing the human being refers to the gradual transformation of individuals into digital mechanisms that respond to defined inputs with predictable or near-predictable outcomes. Yet, since a human is not a machine in the strict sense, this digitization reveals itself in the diminishing space for deviation between inputs and outcomes—a narrowing of autonomy, spontaneity, and freedom.
The Industrial Revolution: The Beginning of Human Digitization
Following the Industrial Revolution in the 18th century, humans began to invent new ways to automate production—through mold casting, machine manufacturing, and pre-planned workflows that performed tasks on behalf of human hands and minds.
Initially, the purpose was to harness industry in service of essential human needs: agriculture, trade, transport, and health. But over time, industry became an end in itself. Humans expanded production far beyond necessity, and developed psychological and social strategies to create demand for surplus goods—ushering in a culture of consumption.
This was followed by another phase dominated by services, mediation, and marketing. With each stage, industrial processes became increasingly standardized: prefabricated templates, rigid plans, stable patterns, systematic procedures, prescriptive methodologies, and repetitive numbers. Digitization of the human being had already begun—quietly and subtly.
Let us consider two examples that illustrate how industrialization gradually digitized the human being, often without conscious awareness.
The Typewriter
In the past, people wrote letters, books, and notes by hand. Every writer had a unique script—a personal touch, a particular rhythm, even a certain scent on the page. I would argue that many love letters derived their sentimental value not only from words, but from the distinctive handwriting: the curves, spacing, size, color, ink, and paper.
The typewriter came and relieved humanity of manual strain, accelerating the writing process and increasing productivity. But it also erased the personal touch. It flattened individuality. All texts became identical, all voices homogenized. What once carried intimate human emotion became mechanical input—standardized, interchangeable, faceless.
And so the human must ask: is it worth exchanging this soulfulness for efficiency?
Standardized Education
What we know today as formal education did not exist in the same standardized format in earlier times. Education was once more free, creative, and individualized. Every teacher shared his knowledge in his own way, and students received a variety of styles and understandings passed down by independently minded instructors.
In contrast, today’s formal education imposes uniform information, identical methods, and standardized curricula. Deviations from these are penalized. The result: the extinction of human curiosity and the suppression of discovery and creativity.
This is a product of the same industrial standardization that governs manufacturing. Education has become a factory-like process—organized groups, fixed timetables, pre-set molds, and expected outcomes. Another step in the digitization of the modern human being.
Human Digitization in the Digital Age
The digitization of the human being reached its peak in the era of modern technology, digital media, and social platforms. Several cultural phenomena bear witness to this transformation.
The Homogenization of Taste
Global corporations and transnational political interests now operate massive platforms in the new digital media ecosystem—software, technologies, applications, and social networks. Regardless of whether this is part of a deliberate agenda, the evidence shows a striking reality: humanity has been split into two groups—an elite minority of influencers, and a vast majority of passive followers.
A trivial video of someone dancing to the “Kiki” song can suddenly go viral, setting off a global trend. Even well-known figures like the folk poet Ibn Shalhat end up imitating the same moves.
The same holds true across all areas of cultural taste: poetry, film, food, consumer goods, gadgets, cars, personalities, and ideas. People increasingly defer to what is trending or popular, what celebrities endorse, and what algorithms recommend. Individually, each person seems to be making free choices, but collectively, we become a crowd of similar preferences and homogenized tastes.
The Standardization of Thought and Behavior
With constant exposure to the lives of others—often in great detail—via social media and digital media, many people have lost the impulse to engage directly with reality. They copy behaviors instead of initiating their own. As a result, large groups of individuals now produce the same responses to the same stimuli—like a kind of mass hypnosis.
This has given rise to a new doctrine: blind correctness. Things are deemed right or wrong not through reasoning or inquiry, but because the majority believes so—no philosophical reflection or aesthetic reasoning required.
Today, a single meme, one-second reaction video, or tiny emoji can override long, nuanced arguments, dragging the conversation into a predefined mental space.
The Illusion of Freedom in a Digitized World
You are free, so we say. Our age champions freedom, justice, and equality. But if you refuse to comply with digital norms, the world will cast you out. You will have to migrate—figuratively—to the 19th century or earlier.
Take the COVID-19 vaccine as an example. Officially, it was optional. No armed forces came to your home to forcibly inject you. Yet if you declined, you were barred from travel, commerce, work, worship, education—even the neighborhood grocer wouldn’t sell you water without seeing digital proof of vaccination.
And yet we say: you are free. We don’t force anyone.
The Digital Herd
Since the rise of Google and its tech siblings, the global population has been steered by invisible digital hands. These companies slowly and softly imposed unified aesthetic, behavioral, and intellectual standards on the digital world.
Some of their own developers later admitted regret. In the documentary The Social Dilemma, one of them confesses: “I was terrified by the idea that 20 or 30 people were shaping the thoughts and behaviors of two or three billion people.”
We, the bloggers, understand this deeply. Even if you were Al-Mutanabbi himself, if you wanted your content to be seen, you had to write according to Google’s “good writing” standards—also known as SEO.
This means you must pick a topic that many people are already searching for, based on long-tail keywords. Google tells you: “People are searching for the Kiki dance.” So, O Abu Al-Tayyib, go write us a poem about the Kiki dance.
After selecting the topic, you are then required to follow detailed instructions: repeat the keyword ten times, be direct, be simple, and abandon your beloved metaphors and poetic innovation. Save those for the court of Sayf al-Dawla.
And here, corporations, billionaires, and transnational interests pour billions into Google ads and sponsorships, ensuring their products and narratives dominate the search engine.
For example, a company called Indomecom may spend billions promoting its brand over five years. As a result, the digital herd is swept up in a flood of Indomecom propaganda. And when you try to write about a pressing issue threatening the planet, Google tells you no one will read it. Instead, write about why Indomecom is great.
I once hired an SEO expert from a tech services platform to audit my blog. After two days of analysis, he told me: “You need to write more about hotels, tribal music, and hamburgers in your country—those are the top search queries on Google.”
This is one of the many outcomes of human digitization: it is the herd that steers the ship.
The Dangers of Digitizing the Human
The danger is not in e-books replacing paper books. Nor in AI outperforming human intelligence. Nor in robots taking over human jobs. Not even in a robot uprising, I, Robot-style.
The deeper and more urgent danger is this: that humans may gradually cease to practice their humanity.
In the past, God sent prophets and reformers to radically transform human thought, behavior, and ways of life. Today, if a prophet were to appear after Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, he would likely be a tech mogul who owns digital platforms—Google, YouTube, Twitter, iPhone, and a blog like Wosom. (Okay, maybe not the last one… they took it down.)
I suspect that the Antichrist (al-Masīḥ al-Dajjāl), who is foretold to appear at the end of time, deceive masses, and present himself as a god—bringing rain, vegetation, and miracles—might in fact be a master hacker or digital programmer. A tech savant capable of executing awe-inspiring stunts using advanced science, dazzling the minds of the digitally sedated masses.
Consider also the implantation of smart neurochips in the human brain under the pretext of treating diseases such as Alzheimer’s, memory loss, hearing impairment, depression, or insomnia—as in Elon Musk’s Neuralink project.
Now imagine millions of people with a shared neural control unit managed by a single entity. Their emotions, their thoughts, their instincts—synchronized, unified. Think, if you will, of the rest of this chilling scenario.