// A call to strengthen your intuition and relationship with the unknown

Sigh. Let’s get into it.

Do you think the algorithm knows you better than you know yourself? What about the TikTok algorithm? YouTube? Instagram’s Explore page? Or even Depop? As we know, not all algorithms are created equally, and some seem to know us better than others.

It was a matter of time before we started seriously talking about spirituality and technology. Not only because of technology’s characteristics, but because of our full societal dependency on it. Much like money, it almost mirrors or emulates the ways we talk about and relate to God. In Western societies, especially where individualism, skepticism, and an underdog ideology are prioritized, promoted, and championed, this creates a fitting breeding ground for finding mysticism within the algorithm. As I’ve mentioned before, I believe many of the agents spearheading this new phase of AI-led technology genuinely believe in some form of a machine god or machine worship. As if the systems we’ve created will ultimately save us as humans devolve into degeneracy. Will they acknowledge the deliberate steps taken to incentivize use and prime us for something like AI “taking over”? No. But with AI and its creation, the question becomes: what does it mean to be uniquely human? Does a machine have a soul? And what would that even entail?

We talk about the algorithm so elusively, partly because of the lack of transparency and the constant, inconsistent changes that don’t center the user positively, but also because it almost feels like magic. When the recommendation feed hits one after another, introducing you to new ideas, images, and narratives, it can feel all-knowing. What even is an algorithm, right? In the simplest terms, it’s a set of instructions designed to accomplish a task. But those instructions, especially on social platforms, are constantly changing, and in that flux they become increasingly ambiguous.

And as we know, rationality and mysticism are not mutually exclusive – they are both equally powerful forces within the vast web of the human experience. Across religions, spiritual systems, and Indigenous practices, symbolism and signs have always been acknowledged. But as things feel increasingly hard for young people, and as traditional religions are openly critiqued and examined, it makes me wonder: does manifestation culture, delusion-promoting frameworks, and apathy-based practices increase alongside that? I say that sincerely and with empathy, not cynically. I do believe signs are real, and that their validity and specificity come down to personal intuition and one’s relationship with the unknown. But as someone who doesn’t feel comfortable residing in delusion, there are moments where I see a “sign” and wonder. Is it divine intervention or sometimes is it just marketing like consumers are more likely to remember ads with repetitive numbers (ie: angel numbers on billboards and highways). With the internet, though, it gets trickier. The algorithm optimizes for what you’re most likely to engage with, while creators simultaneously frame their content to be optimized for the algorithm. So when you’ve liked three or four posts implying you’re going through a breakup or job transition, the tarot creator who just posted “If you’re going through a breakup, this is for you” ends up on your feed.Was it really for you?

This isn’t to discredit tarot, I find the storytelling aspect fascinating, but what I’m focusing on is framing and optimization, not the content itself. That framing determines what makes it onto your feed and, by extension, what gets interpreted as a sign. And this doesn’t just happen with tarot. It happens across all forms of content, some even explicitly using the hook “this is a sign” to apply it to anything. Is anything a sign after scrolling for two and a half hours? Is anything a sign when apps on your phone are cross-communicating through data, Wi-Fi, and cookies? I honestly don’t even know anymore. And if the first post is truly a sign, what about the second and the third, once the algorithm has picked up on your recent behavior and decided to show you more of the same?

Algorithmic conspirituality has now entered into the mix, becoming an even more fitting variable for the times. Algorithmic conspirituality can be described as “spiritualizing beliefs about algorithms, which emerge from occasions when people find personal, often revelatory connections to content algorithmically recommended to them” (Cotter et al., 2022).From a creator’s point of view, creating content that feeds into this idea, seems to bridge the tension between authenticity to find your core audience and maximizing visibility for the masses. And from a user’s point of view, it can feel like positive reinforcement in a hyper-personalized context, regardless of whether you engage directly with religious or spiritual content at all.

This type of content exhibits interpretive flexibility – depending on a viewer’s experiences, perspectives, and expectations, it shapes how meaning is derived and what feels “right” (Cotter et al., 2024). It often allows for interpretation across belief systems: religious, secular, new-age spiritual, agnostic, and everything in between. It’s also another way of capitalizing on and capturing people emotionally, as an individual’s emotional state often plays a role in how attuned or “accurate” content feels.

As an artist, I feel especially sensitive to this. I’ve honored the idea that creative impulses, ideas, and yearnings come from a divine source of some sort, and because of that, it feels like due diligence to make sure that connection isn’t being tampered with. No one is above the algorithm without constant awareness or trained discernment.

It helps to develop an internal multi-layer approach when deciphering content meant “for you.” It’s hard to give a universal example because it’s deeply personal which is exactly what makes this kind of content strategy so effective. Maybe it’s not just one element that speaks to you, but multiple: the specificity of the words, the numbers, the colors, the pacing – any stimuli, really. If anything, let this serve as a reminder of another dimension of discernment. (Yes, it’s annoying to feel like you need Avengers-level discernment just to casually scroll platforms these days.) Or maybe treat all of this as a challenge, or even a personal experiment, to strengthen your intuition.

Ultimately, the takeaway for me, is to fortify my intuition and build a healthy relationship with uncertainty and the unknown. That sharpens discernment and helps avoid certain traps, most importantly through nervous system regulation. When it comes to signs specificity, clarity, and attunement matter. But I also think about all of this as a kind of cautionary tale, a subconscious check, especially when interpreting the unknown in an environment where memetic desire is rampant and deeply tied to algorithmic engagement. Constantly inspect your desires and beliefs. Make sure your internal beacon is strengthened by intuition and agency, not outsourced and decided solely by the algorithm – if not for verification, then at least for confirmation.

How does all of this make you feel about your relationship with the divine?

How deep is your belief in your algorithm? Would you trust an algorithm over a human?

Two different questions, varying wildly by context and specificity but interesting ones to ponder within oneself.

Resources & Further Reading:

The reflexive ambivalence of algorithmic conspirituality

Motivations and Labor of Creating Algorithmic Conspirituality Content on TikTok