The Death of Curating, the Rise of Curation

I've been trying to make an effort to more intentionally pick something to watch when the weekend rolls around. While I've enjoyed the Grey's Anatomy binge I started during this pregnancy, it feels like a work week ritual -- something to put on in the background or pay half attention to. On the weekend, I've had the desire to create a different kind of ritual, one that feels more deliberate.

After a nice evening out at the pub and a short walk along the river, we headed home and I began the usual pursuit of something to watch. I tried our four different streaming services, growing more and more frustrated. There were no new films we hadn't seen, and while I enjoy, actually prefer if we're being honest, films from the 80s and 90s, the selection on the apps has been the same for ages.

In that moment of frustration, I felt my heart crack and I nostalgically said I miss being able to go to the movie store and pick out a film.

The trip to the movie store was a ritual in itself. It was an event. There was a deliberateness in browsing the new release wall and picking up the movie boxes to read the case. Independent films were tucked in between the big blockbusters, but they were available and visible. Next would be the wander between rows of the old movies. A leisurely browse to see if anything else caught your eye from a time long past.

Finally, the walk to the register, past popcorn and snacks and soda pop. Do you want a bucket of popcorn for your at home movie experience? Mom, can we get a soda? And then you'd go home and watch your movies.

I worked at two movie stores in college, Hastings and Blockbuster. And there were even rituals I enjoyed as someone wearing the Customer Service Representative badge. (I'm sure I am looking at this time long past through nostalgia colored glasses.)

I had regulars I would recognize who would come in every week, get their movie, get their popcorn, and we would chat while I rang them up. I still remember a few of them, one of them was Sean Bean's doppelgänger which brought me great joy.

Scanning the movies that came back in and needed to be returned to the floor presented another opportunity to find a hidden gem, to be intrigued by a title or the cover art.

You explored, you tried new things, you curated your taste.

The Illusion of Choice #

There was a time when Netflix was DVD only. I remember re-ordering my queue of movies to be sent to me when I returned whatever I had rented. Slowly over time it shifted to what it is now. All digital, with a loss of access to a wide array of older films, replaced by Netflix's own content.

Netflix's shift to their own content isn't the problem though (except when they cancel good shows). The problem is the illusion of choice presented and an algorithm that is now guessing what it thinks I might like and showing me that.

Netflix also has a habit of repackaging the same list of movies just reordered under a different category name, and there is nothing I find more annoying. If there's some data out there about people picking a movie they've already skipped over because it's under a new category title, I would love to see it. But to me, it feels like I am being shown a facade. "Look at all this media we have!" So you scroll and scroll, and then I've seen the same movies listed 3-4 times.

I am being shown a fraction of the films I know are available. Am I actually browsing? Or am I being profiled and curated to?

"Here is your selection fo films, here's more of what you like! Surely you just want more that."

Somewhere along the way we lost the joy of discovery and exploring and instead relinquished our curiosity to let the algorithm take over and passively serve us.

Giving Away the Joy of Discovery #

I have yet to find a streaming service that actually replicates the movie catalogue of a rental store. I don't think it's even possible with licensing. Curating and discovering films has lost its sparkle and its ritual. The digital scroll is much less satisfying.

But it’s not just in film that we’ve surrendered the experience of uncurated browsing.

We've lost it on the web. We've surrendered the joy of exploring our spaces and finding like-minded people for social media. The algorithm is constantly feeding us content it thinks we'll like based on what we've engaged with. Instagram's explore page is the worst offender. I rarely see the type of content I want to see and instead am served up content related to reality TV and to clear it out, I need to go on a liking spree to see more of what I want, but it never seems to stick.

They got rid of recent hashtags so discovering smaller accounts on your own became more difficult. And in turn, creators trying to find their people quickly tried to mold themselves to what the algorithm was showing them, becoming like everyone else.

We gave up blogs in place of social media and once again let the algorithm curate to us instead of us curating our space. People still cry out for a chronological timeline, they still cry out to be shown the posts of the people they are following, because the tech wants to curate to you. You have little control.

Enter the AI Agent #

I see the AI crowd talking about AI agents and Agentic AI. They want it to replace our current systems and experiences. I wouldn't ask an AI agent to book a table for me. I wouldn't ask it to plan and book a trip for me.

I don't want to give up more of my agency, my ability to curate my life, to a company. I fear that AI in some ways is just a further avenue to relinquish our decision-making skills through an interface with no humanity.

We are abstracted away from each other to such a degree the rifts have grown wide and deep. The less interaction we have with people from all walks of life, the more isolated we've become. We rely on tech to fill the gaps that genuine interaction once filled, and it continues to further lead us astray.

Actively Choosing #

Curation was once something we did for ourselves, a ritual that shaped our taste and gave us joy. I worry that in our rush toward convenience, algorithms, and now AI agents, we’re letting go of that agency piece by piece. Maybe what we need isn’t smarter technology to choose for us, but the space and intention to start curating again — for ourselves, on our own terms.

Note: Aside from movie stores, I have been missing the late 2000s and early 2010s. For me, style and fashion blogs were abundant and individuality shown through. We've lost that to algorithms and social media. I hope one day we can find it again.