Science & Tech

You take AI, I’ll take my iPod (if I can find it)

‘The vision of the future being pushed by tech moguls is not necessarily a vision we’ve all bought into.’

Sy Boles

Harvard Staff Writer

June 29, 2026

6 min read

A recent Pew Research report found that 40 percent of Americans expect AI to negatively impact society, compared with 16 percent who predict a positive impact. Almost two-thirds, or 63 percent, say AI is advancing too quickly.

The angst doesn’t stop there. Americans spend more than four hours each day on their phones, and a lot of them don’t like it. The internet teems with tips and tricks to help people distance themselves from their devices (put your phone in grayscale; charge it in another room) or even ditch their smartphones altogether. About 169,000 people visit a Reddit community dedicated to digital minimalism each week.

Analyst Sara Watson ’07 has written in The Atlantic, The Washington Post, Slate, and other publications about bending the arc of technology from individual convenience toward the collective good. In this conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, Watson, who was a fellow and affiliate at the Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society from 2013 to 2019, shares insights on the “tech-lash” and how it might unfold.

What is behind the resistance to AI?

People are taking issue with the lack of consent. I’m seeing more of a discussion about, “I’m not agreeing to use this thing, but it’s being introduced to all my interfaces, software upgrades, all my devices, without demand for it.”

Yes, the AI backlash has to do with concerns about work, particularly for new graduates. But it goes beyond that: The vision of the future being pushed by tech moguls is not necessarily a vision we’ve all bought into. What we’re seeing is resistance to that vision of the future — the sense that we’re not represented in that future, and we’re searching for means of resisting the inevitability framing and reasserting our own visions of the future.

I think that’s why you’re seeing the resistance to data centers in particular: It’s the most material instantiation of this technological shift showing up in our communities. There is concern about environmental impacts — water, energy use, noise pollution — mixed with a bit of NIMBYism. But data center resistance is operating on a town-by-town scale of community organizing that can be impactful in the absence of state or federal regulations.

How does the AI backlash fit into the history of resistance to new technologies?

When Victorian railroads were introduced, they caused nausea and “railway neurosis.” I also look back to film history: Early films replicated the proscenium arch, teaching us how we were supposed to watch films as a theatrical audience. Designers have always understood that we need familiar cues to learn to relate to new interfaces and media.

All technologies have their growing pains, but the Intel researcher Genevieve Bell says that moral panics surface when technologies change our relationship to time, space, and each other. An obvious parallel is the Luddite movement. But I always remind people the Luddites weren’t resisting the textile machines themselves: They were resisting the loss of jobs, and the loss of social support that came with automation.

Beyond AI, what trends are you paying attention to in the contemporary resistance to tech?

“I’m noticing a resurgence in interest in going offline, ‘grandma hobbies’ like knitting or crochet.”

I’m noticing a resurgence in interest in going offline, “grandma hobbies” like knitting or crochet. Aesthetics like punk zines, hand lettering, collage. Another version of that is cyberdecks — people creating their own custom-built computers and keyboards in a converted purse or a suitcase. It’s all highly customized, hyper-personalized, and it’s all about increasing control over our devices. I would put iPods into this category as well — people finding vintage iPods and saying, “Isn’t it nice to have my entire music collection without ads, without needing a WiFi connection?” There is a particular desire to be offline. I know folks with flip phones or Light Phone devices. L.L. Bean is selling boat bags embroidered with “analog” and “off the grid.” Land’s End catalog proclaimed “analog summer.” The trends are real.

What these trends have in common is definitely “friction-maxxing,” in today’s parlance. But I also think it’s a bit of a refusal of the economic logic behind these platforms that have driven us down the algorithmic attention rabbit hole. I see it as a form of resisting the system. Sure, some of it still results in consumer behavior — the irony of posting on Instagram what you carry around in your analog bag — but to me it’s a reflection of, “OK, if we’re a market economy, one of the best tools I have in resisting the direction of this market is to demand alternatives and reflect that in my consumer behavior.”

The other underlying theme is not only that we’re taking our attention back, but we’re also trying to reassert the fact that we have bodies. There’s a kind of nostalgic, embodied, tactile factor to these trends. The Y2K-aesthetic CD players were a joyful, tactile experience. We enjoyed typing on a mechanical keyboard as opposed to glass screens.

In the absence of regulation — whether that’s something like Australia’s under-16 social media ban or the possibility of the White House vetting AI models — do any of these on-the-margins behavioral changes add up to anything?

The adage goes that that law always trails technology. And the tension is how to create effective regulation that doesn’t stifle innovation. That being said, we can certainly push for policies like bans on NDAs for the development of data centers. Any kind of youth protection has historically been the easiest bipartisan pathway, especially when it comes to mental health and kids’ relationships to chatbots, or consent and the use of AI likenesses.

I’m compelled to return to Lawrence Lessig’s four modalities that regulate humans’ relationship to technology: law, norms, market, and architecture or code. Norms and architecture — how we’re actually designing this stuff — are also valid levers to shape how tech emerges and how we adopt it.

I’m excited by the groundswell I’m seeing around tech resistance. I’m heartened by the literacy around this, the sense that people are figuring out ways to get in touch with their sense of agency and channel it in productive ways. Trends like analog summer, or establishing the norm that we don’t put our phones on the table: That’s the scale of change that can foment a larger collective conversation.