The Gospel of Tech Domination: A Guide to Big Tech’s Evil
Why every click, scroll, and “like” feeds the machine, and how we mistook addiction for innovation.
We like to think of Big Tech as progress. Tools that make us faster, smarter, more connected. But strip away the PR, the glossy keynotes, and the “we’re changing the world” slogans — what you’ll find underneath is far simpler: control.
These companies don’t innovate for your benefit. They innovate for your dependence. Their genius isn’t in the code or the design. It’s in the manipulation. The real product isn’t the app, the cloud, or the device. The real product is you.
And the most efficient prison is the one you don’t realize you’re in. Big Tech doesn’t need walls or bars — it turns your own habits, your own curiosity, into the cage. You carry the prison in your pocket, unlock it with a fingerprint, and even thank it for the privilege.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: each platform has perfected its own scam. And you’ve probably volunteered for every single one.
Microsoft — The Black Hole
Microsoft doesn’t innovate. They wait, watch, and then absorb. It’s like watching a black hole — except instead of swallowing stars, it swallows your company’s soul. First, they give you just enough licenses to think you’re in control. Then, they lock you in with Entra, Intune, Defender, Purview — the whole buffet of acronyms. And now? Copilot. The shiny AI sidekick that suddenly outranks every product roadmap, every feature, every priority inside Redmond. Copilot isn’t about helping you work smarter. It’s about making sure every click, keystroke, and document flows through Microsoft’s gravitational pull. People think they’re adopting ‘Zero Trust,’ but the only thing Microsoft trusts is its own monopoly. Evil? No. Evil implies passion. This is colder. It’s algorithmic domination. And the best part? Everyone signs the contract with a smile. Stockholm Syndrome, enterprise edition.
Google — The Religion
Google’s not a company, it’s a religion. You don’t ‘use’ Google — you confess to it. Every search, every map click, every Gmail thread is a prayer offered to the algorithmic gods of Mountain View. And the tithe? Google Ads. They don’t just sell you; they auction your soul in real-time bidding wars.
Workspace? That’s not productivity. That’s training wheels to make sure your entire company runs inside their confessional booth. Google Maps? It’s not navigation. It’s surveillance with directions. Every place you’ve ever been, every route you’ve ever taken — all absorbed into the holy data lake.
And Fitbit? That wasn’t about health. That was about harvesting heartbeats, sleep cycles, and stress levels just to upsell you Pixel hardware disguised as wellness. They don’t sell products; they sell the illusion of convenience while tethering you tighter to the hive.
They claimed their motto was ‘Don’t be evil.’ Cute. That’s like Hannibal Lecter saying, ‘Don’t be hungry.
Apple — The Handcuffs
Apple doesn’t sell devices. They sell a lifestyle tax. You don’t buy an iPhone — you lease your self-worth. The genius isn’t in the hardware, it’s in the cage. Sleek, polished, beautifully engineered handcuffs. Every cable, every charger, every dongle is a toll for belonging.
Siri? A glorified voice memo app that still can’t find a restaurant without sending you to Safari. Apple Watch and Apple Health? Digital participation trophies. They’ll congratulate you for ‘closing your rings’ even if you were standing, sleeping, or inhaling a bag of bacon-laced cheesy fried chips. It’s not wellness — it’s gamified self-delusion with haptics.
And the best part? People line up overnight just to hand Apple more money for the privilege of being locked in tighter. Cults usually hide their rituals — Apple puts theirs on a keynote stage, with applause. They don’t innovate. They curate addiction. And they’re so good at it that even I can’t look away.
Amazon — The Smirk
Amazon isn’t a store. It’s a dependency. They don’t sell products, they sell the illusion of efficiency while quietly becoming the bloodstream of the internet. AWS isn’t ‘cloud’ — it’s the oxygen your company breathes, and Bezos owns the air tank.
Alexa? A wiretap you voluntarily installed in your kitchen. You think it’s helping you play music — really, it’s logging every command, every sound, every accidental cough in the background. Prime? Not a service, a survival tax. And Prime Day? A manufactured dopamine holiday to remind you who your real god is.
The smiling arrow on their logo? That’s not a smile. It’s a smirk — because they know you’ll be back tomorrow, weaker, more addicted, and still paying for Prime like it’s rent.
Meta — The Dopamine Casino
Meta isn’t about connection. It’s about control dressed in dopamine. Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp — three cages, one master.
Facebook is a behavioral slot machine. The newsfeed doesn’t show you reality, it shows you whatever keeps you angry, scrolling, and predictable. Instagram? That’s not self-expression, it’s weaponized envy. Filters, reels, and fake perfection packaged into an endless loop designed to mine your insecurity and sell it to advertisers. WhatsApp? They tell you it’s end-to-end encrypted, but the real gold is metadata: who you talk to, when, how often, and from where. The words are noise — the patterns are profit.
The scam is elegance itself: they don’t dominate by building community. They dominate by exploiting loneliness. Likes, hearts, blue ticks — tiny digital drugs doled out until you can’t look away.
‘Connecting the world’? No. Dissecting it, tagging every nerve ending, and selling the sensation back to you. Meta isn’t vision. It’s metastasis.”
Twitter/X — The Chaos Machine
Twitter was never a town square. It was a bar fight with hashtags. Then Elon bought it and rebranded it into ‘X’ — because nothing says vision like naming your company after a variable. The platform isn’t about free speech; it’s about engineered outrage. The algorithm doesn’t reward truth, it rewards conflict. Every tweet is bait, every retweet is proof you took it.
Now it’s a billionaire’s mood swing playground. One week it’s ‘free expression,’ the next it’s paywalls, verification scams, and rage-bait shoved down your throat. Twitter doesn’t connect people. It collects chaos, monetizes it, and calls it engagement. The rebrand didn’t reinvent the platform. It killed the last shred of identity and turned it into a vanity project running on copium and dopamine.”
Netflix — The Infinite Scroll
Netflix isn’t streaming. It’s sedation by algorithm. They don’t curate movies; they shovel content into a conveyor belt until you forget what you even wanted to watch. Their recommendations aren’t about taste, they’re about retention. You don’t pick what to see — you pick what to tolerate for another 42 minutes.
The scam? Original shows designed to hook you just long enough to keep your subscription alive, then quietly canceled the second production costs outweigh your attention span. Binge-watching isn’t convenience. It’s behavioral conditioning that trains you to sacrifice sleep, productivity, and sanity on their altar of autoplay.
And the kicker? They convinced you to pay for this cycle of digital junk food, while bragging about how ‘you’re in control.’ Netflix doesn’t dominate by quality. It dominates by inertia — and inertia is the most profitable addiction of all.
LinkedIn — The Corporate Cosplay
LinkedIn isn’t a professional network. It’s corporate cosplay. Everyone’s either a ‘visionary,’ a ‘thought leader,’ or a ‘growth ninja’ waiting to be endorsed by people they barely know. The algorithm doesn’t reward truth — it rewards manufactured hustle and performative vulnerability.
Endorsements? Digital participation trophies. Recommendations? Mutual hostage notes in better grammar. And the feed? A graveyard of humblebrags, sales pitches disguised as inspiration, and fake stories about baristas who ‘taught someone leadership.’ It’s not networking — it’s peacocking.
The scam? They’ve gamified your career into content, trapped you into constant personal branding, and convinced you that if you’re not posting, you’re invisible. LinkedIn doesn’t connect professionals. It commoditizes them — one buzzword post at a time.
Reddit — The Karma Scam
Reddit isn’t democracy. It’s a behavioral lab running on fake internet currency. Karma points are the scam — worthless digital tokens that people treat like gold inside the hive. They don’t unlock anything, they don’t matter outside Reddit, but inside? They’re power, leverage, and ego steroids.
You don’t post for community. You post for Karma pellets — meaningless numbers that trick your brain into thinking you matter. Subreddits aren’t open forums; they’re fiefdoms policed by unpaid moderators who enforce echo chambers under the illusion of ‘community rules.’
The scam? Reddit doesn’t need ads to own you. They crowdsource moderation, gamify validation, and let users harvest themselves. You think you’re free because you’re anonymous, but really you’re just another lab rat refreshing for pellets in a digital Skinner box.
Starbucks — The Pumpkin Cult
Starbucks doesn’t sell coffee. They sell sugar disguised as culture. The Pumpkin Spice Latte isn’t a drink — it’s a marketing virus that infects every fall. People line up like it’s liquid religion, clutching their orange cups as if cinnamon syrup somehow makes them special. It’s not Halloween spirit, it’s seasonal Stockholm Syndrome.
The scam? Seasonal scarcity. They invent artificial hype, convince you your life isn’t complete without a $7 dessert in a paper cup, and then vanish it until next year to keep the cult alive. The drinks don’t fuel productivity. They fuel Instagram posts with foam art. Starbucks doesn’t dominate because their coffee is good. They dominate because they turned caffeine into a fashion accessory and self-delusion into a lifestyle brand.
Oracle — The Fossil
Oracle isn’t technology. It’s a tollbooth fossil from the database Stone Age that refuses to die. They don’t sell software — they sell contracts so dense they make black holes look transparent. Their business model isn’t innovation, it’s litigation. Buy their database and congratulations — you’ve just married Larry Ellison in a prenup you’ll never escape.
The scam? They convince companies that complexity equals sophistication, then lock them into licenses so expensive they’d make a loan shark blush. Their acquisitions? Grave robberies. They bought MySQL, a symbol of open-source freedom, and shackled it. They bought Java, then sued Google over it — proving they see code less as innovation and more as ammunition.
While everyone else chases AI or the cloud, Oracle just sharpens the claws on their lawyers. They don’t need to dominate with products. They dominate with paperwork. Oracle isn’t a tech company. It’s a legal department with a side hustle in databases.
How to Digital Detox
The only way to save yourself from Big Tech is to stop worshipping at their altars. Buy your own hardware — servers, switches, storage, routers — and run your digital life like a sovereign state instead of renting it from Microsoft and Google. Cut the noise: use Signal for messaging, Proton Mail for email, and starve the algorithms of your personal data. Replace Starbucks swill with a Breville or Nespresso at home, using beans that aren’t soaked in marketing lies but actually sourced with ethics intact. And when you need a dopamine hit, don’t scroll — go analog. Pick a film and hit an IMAX or PVR once in a while. It’s not about rejecting technology, it’s about rejecting the leash.