In January 2019, I quickly walked into the office, sat down at my desk, and immediately started working. Updates were needed for different versions of our brand’s website. Most importantly, user consent was required for collecting what we call non-PI (Non-Personal Information) data, especially cookies. Emails from our Asian headquarters emphasized compliance with local legal regulations and consent requirements. We decided to implement three distinct consent layers for users: (1) standard permissions, (2) Google Analytics tracking, and (3) advertising tracking permissions. At that time, ad tracking was not even being discussed in Turkey—and unfortunately, it still isn’t. But we moved forward, thinking ahead, and built the system accordingly.
The result? Our website traffic was cut almost in half. We had to explain the situation to senior management. Imagine presenting this: “With forward-thinking vision, we transparently informed consumers about every tracking activity—and understandably, they fled.”
Later, since there was no clear regulation in Turkey regarding advertising permissions, we removed the ad tracking layer. Traffic numbers returned to their former high levels, and consumers stopped abandoning the site.
This experience clearly showed us that consumers aren’t as unaware as many assume. When you honestly tell them what’s happening, they instinctively protect themselves.
Looking from the company’s side: corporations do not exist to serve humanity. Their primary objective is to maximize profits and keep investors happy. To achieve this, they aim to boost their sales or service numbers consistently. But along the way, how many of them truly consider human health, ethical values, or respect for our lives and time? The answer: very few.
If a country’s legal system does not proactively regulate these “bloodsucking” corporate structures, we must realize that behind their friendly façades lurk dangerous realities.
In philosophy, there is a principle I particularly appreciate: “If a person constantly does you harm, you recognize them and act accordingly.
If a person constantly does you good, you recognize them and act accordingly.
But if a person does you both good and harm alternately, you will never truly understand their real intentions.”
Today’s global corporations perfectly embody that third category. You might think these brands are creating value for you. But often, under the pretense of offering value, they are embedding harmful, unethical practices into your lives. Nothing in life is truly free—not even the air we breathe post-pandemic. Think about it: if someone on the street handed you an incredibly fun toy and said, “Take this, it’s free and endlessly enjoyable,” wouldn’t you question it? So why don’t we question companies like Google, Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and WhatsApp offering world-class, multi-million-dollar platforms for free? Isn’t there something wrong here?
One of Meta’s primary business strategies today is to not only increase app downloads but also maximize the amount of time users spend within the app. To achieve this, they deploy powerful algorithms. They track everything—your preferences, dislikes, location, the websites you visit, the videos you enjoy, your friends’ activities, your keyword searches, your purchasing habits, and more. Using all of this, they tag you—not with your name, but with behavioral identifiers. And with these tags, systems know you better than you know yourself. Meanwhile, you remain hypnotized, unaware that your life and time are being stolen. And sadly, there are no universal legal frameworks that truly regulate these practices yet. This is why, for the sake of both ourselves and future generations, I am genuinely concerned.
Let’s explore two general attitudes among users:
- “I don’t care if they collect my data.”
- “I find data collection scary and harmful.”
Data collection by companies typically happens in two ways:
- Personal Information (PI): Data like your full name, date of birth, relationship status, or address—anything that identifies you.
- Non-Personal Information (non-PI): Data from your internet activity—websites visited, videos watched, forums frequented, etc.—without identifying your real name.
While people often say, “I’m not famous, who cares about my data?” this thinking is misguided. For example, Amazon recently offered users $2 per month to allow tracking of their mobile activity through its Shopper Panel program. Clearly, even seemingly insignificant data holds real market value.
Although Amazon claims it uses the data to improve personalized advertising and product offerings, many privacy advocates are skeptical. Regardless of justifications, what matters is being aware of the reality: your data has value, and it’s being used—whether you know it or not. Now, playing devil’s advocate for a moment: managing massive data pools is indeed challenging. Segmenting millions of records and running complex analyses requires major investment in both infrastructure and talent. However, this does not justify exploiting users by maximizing screen time through emotionally charged or psychologically manipulative content. Think of all the viral videos featuring babies, puppies, life hacks, or inspirational quotes—all meticulously crafted to keep you hooked. It doesn’t matter whether you are a child or an adult; the system operates the same way.
Unfortunately, the so-called “parental controls” offered today are largely ineffective and inconsistently used. And while you may individually shrug off these concerns, collectively they pose significant societal risks. Today’s seemingly harmless engagement could become a weapon against future generations—your children, your nieces, your nephews.
By using these platforms, we directly contribute to this ecosystem. These companies collect billions of dollars in advertising revenue thanks to users like us. No matter how much you try to “opt out,” you are part of the system—and share responsibility for its consequences.
Beyond advertising, engagement numbers on social media platforms deeply affect human psychology. Humans are inherently social beings; our survival as a species depended on social acceptance. Today, the number of likes, comments, or shares we receive—or the ones we don’t—directly impacts our emotions. Envy, sadness, competitiveness—these have become daily psychological struggles caused by social media dynamics.
For nearly two decades, I have also worked in photography. Instagram, from the very beginning, understood the human psyche incredibly well—offering addictive filters that distorted reality and encouraged constant sharing. Today, countless photos posted online are heavily filtered or staged. We perform, we pose, we work hard for the dopamine rush of a “like.” Meanwhile, Meta profits handsomely from these interactions.
Think of it: a professional theater actor spends years perfecting their craft and takes pride in receiving applause. But even they get paid for their work. What are we earning from social media? Just empty validation?
Sure, you might think of influencers who make money through their online fame. I have worked with many of them. They build an audience, dedicate themselves to content creation, and walk a tightrope—any misstep can destroy their careers. Still, the major platforms keep most of the advertising profits for themselves, paying only a tiny fraction to influencers.
Ordinary users—like you and me—are not influencers. We are the primary victims of this system. And 100–200 likes won’t turn us into celebrities either. It’s crucial we wake up to this reality.
