When I lived in Cap Hill in Denver, my Friday night routine involved walking by a little strip mall that had both a Qdoba and a Blockbuster.
I suppose I am that old.
I would pick up a few DVDs and two burritos for the weekend and keep walking the few blocks to my apartment. I didn’t pay for cable and Hulu was just starting to make its break into streaming (on my antiquated laptop), the nearby Blockbuster was great to have.
By the time I walked back to work on Monday, I’d finished the movies and dropped them in the return. When it came to video rental I had it easy.
Growing up, I remember this wasn’t always the case. Blockbuster meant needing a car, and then arguing with the siblings and parents about what could be rented (family friendliness was a must for our house). I also remember a ton of the movies I watched from those days. Same with the movies in my apartment. What we would consider inconvenient nowadays provided enough friction back then to make it worthwhile.
Ranking? No such thing. Unless it was “newest releases” and “this week’s top rentals.” There might have been a “staff picks” section. Beyond that, you searched based on whatever information you had. You liked certain actors or directors, or you picked a movie that you had missed when it was in theaters or because your friend told you someone took off their shirt in the third act.
You could apply this same thinking for music or books. Today, there’s not much looking or searching. Most of what we consume is served up by the algorithm.
I’ll only ever know what my “suggested” feeds look like. All I know is that Netflix and Spotify have suggested the same 50 or so things to me for the last few years (aside from whatever latest release they are desperate to get eyeballs on). At least with Spotify, there tends to be some good stuff at the bottom.
Did the algorithm make things easier? I mean, maybe. Push a button and something starts playing. Hell, yell the right thing at the right machine and something might start playing. The algorithm ultimately just replaced people and preference.
It replaced our ability to develop a taste for the fruits of our culture with on-demand content.