The Hall of Mirrors

Why Real Connection is the Antidote to a Flattened World

Here’s my recent reflection on what happens when everything starts sounding the same: our work, our voices, even our (mimetic) desires.

It’s about the quiet loss of depth in a world that keeps flattening us, and the simple, human connections that might still save us. Don’t expect a polished take here; just doing some thinking in public.

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I remember when I started out as a photographer (ages ago!). Back then, everyone I knew had a distinct eye, a unique perspective, a different way of seeing the world. Or at least tried to have it.

Our styles weren’t perfect, but they were alive.

Then came Instagram. Then TikTok. Then filters, presets, trends, and algorithms. Fifteen years later, many of those once-distinct voices now sound very much the same. We all started echoing each other, without meaning to.

All of a sudden, my vision, or taste or uniqueness were largely replaced by a list of “must haves”. I burned out. None of it felt mine anymore.

Now, I’m seeing it again—but this time, with our thoughts and desires.

In a world obsessed with optimization and productivity, we’re surrounded by prompts, templates, self-improvement apps, AI-generated scripts. Everything is designed to help us “express ourselves”, but it seems that more and more in the process, we lose the very thing that makes us us?

We’re not just optimizing here; we’re flattening. The edges get smoothed out. The weirdness, grittiness, the wildness that made us human starts disappearing.

Brands do that, but so do we.

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“With the current trend of redesigns, the clear pattern is one of absolute simplicity. Brands have stripped back their colour palette , got rid of their three-dimensional elements and gone back to basics. It has been argued that they are taking the personality out of their brands and conforming to today’s trends.”

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Welcome to the Hall of Mirrors

We’re living in what Iain McGilchrist calls a world of simulacra—a place where representations replace the real. Where the map becomes more vivid than the territory.

The idea of something becomes more important than the thing itself.

At first, the chatbot sounds like us. Then, we start sounding like the chatbot. Eventually, everyone starts sounding the same. It’s efficient, yes, but at the same time it’s eerily empty.

We scroll through a hall of mirrors: reflections of reflections. Quotes that sound deep and wise. Faces that look perfect. Voices that are optimized for engagement but disconnected from life. It’s not that anything is wrong, really. It’s just somehow… flat.

In our attempt to make things faster, easier, more digestible, we’re draining them of flavor. Like the apples from my childhood where our garden had one tree planted by my great-grandfather. Best taste on the planet. Now apples are optimized for shelf life, not soul. They’re perfectly engineered. And they taste like nothing.

We’re doing the same to our inner lives.

It’s So Convenient

Some time ago, I was driving through France. I stopped at a gas station and it felt to weird - no people, just vending machines. Later that night, I stayed at a “smart” hotel. Again, no humans. Just codes, screens, sensors. The whole trip was smooth, efficient, and entirely devoid of warmth.

That’s what scares me. A world that works really well, but feels like nothing. A life where we never get interrupted, but also never get truly seen. Frictionless. It becomes The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

I don’t think it’s just nostalgia. The thing is, when everything becomes frictionless, we risk losing the very things that give life texture, meaning, and connection.

We’re not starving for information; we’re starving for intimacy.

Sipping Real People

I think we don’t need just more apps. We don’t need more perfectly worded prompts.
We need people who are messy, alive, real. Irreplaceable people.

We need conversation without bullet points and more presence without performance. Hugs - both physical and mental - without agendas. Just some… realness, wabi sabi style.

It’s not just that things are getting optimized. We are.
We're shaping ourselves to fit the feed. To sound more like content than humans.

But what we truly long for is unscripted connection. The kind where someone laughs at the wrong time. Or misunderstands you. Or remembers your birthday even though you forgot theirs. The kind that can’t be templated. The kind that grows in wild, unexpected ways.

Maybe what we need these days is to rewild our relationships—let them stretch us, stumble over life, deepen.

And yes, we’re lonely in this digital flatland. Not in a dramatic way, but in a subtle, “ambient” way. Like a consistent hum underneath everything. We miss mattering. We miss each other, even when we’re constantly “connected.”

You Are Not a Brand.

It’s easy to slip into performance mode these days with all the curating, editing, trying to sound useful or smart or "on brand." But most of the time, what we actually need is to drop it and just be our messy selves. If we still remember how to do it.

We don’t always need to be interesting, improving or “adding value.” You don’t have to earn your place by being productive or impressive all the time.
Just being yourself is sometimes more than enough.

Easy to Forget

We weren’t meant to live inside mirrors and metrics.

We were meant for things with depth—quiet mornings, eye contact, shared stories, inside jokes, long pauses, the sound of someone breathing next to you. But more and more we create a world not fit for humans.

These days the challenge isn’t just building better tech but staying human while the world keeps flattening everything it touches.

What matters now is remembering how to feel, care and to connect.

And to keep showing up—not as a brand, but as a person. Among other people. While we still can.