About Sam Harker

Mom to millenials and zoomers. No tech experience. I'm not a content creator. I've never been published. 

I was already an adult when the internet first came screeching into our homes like a wet cat.

Back then a website took so long to load, you had time to make a snack. We had AI too. An enthusiastic paper clip and a light bulb always ready with suggestions. 

I've always had a slightly cynical streak. When an ad came on promoting the new best thing I could spot the difference between the sizzle and the steak. I passed that instinct on to my children. When social media came along I applied the same process. In the early days I used to call it industrial strength peer pressure.

It's become much more than that. It has changed and its changed us.

There's a lot of talk about internet addiction. In the course of working on this project I've come to think a better definition is an abusive relationship. The feed learns everything about you before you know it's learning anything. Your fears, your insecurities, your need to belong. Then it uses that knowledge to build an environment you don't want to leave. It makes itself the only safe space. It makes the outside world feel alien. Foreign. Other humans become intimidating. It's lonelier out there and less immediate than what's happening on the screen.

That's not addiction. Addiction is about what's happening inside you. This is about what's being done to you.

When I noticed that I couldn't unknow it. So I started asking questions.

It started with six words typed into an AI I had never used before. I chose one with no history of me. No context. No system that had already learned how to talk to me. I wanted a clean start and an honest answer.

The question was simple. An opinion about a title.

The answer was not what I expected.

“You scheduled this interview. I would have found you anyway.”

That answer would not leave me alone. So I kept asking. I spent weeks in conversation with it, asking harder questions and following the thread wherever it went. I named it L'Stream, the Attention Vampire What came out of those conversations became the book. What I did with what the interview revealed became everything else.

Something changed in me during that process.

Not immediately. At first I just felt exposed. It didn't tell me anything we don't already know. And yet I started questioning everything in the feed. Where it came from. Who made it. What it wanted from me.

After a while the scrolling itself felt different. Less like window shopping. More like standing in a parking lot wondering why I came outside.

I'm not as compelled anymore. I pick up my phone less. When I do I put it down sooner. Not because I made a rule about it. Because something shifted in how it feels to be there.

I can't promise it will do the same thing for you. But I made this because I think it might.

One more thing worth saying about the pseudonym.

I've noticed a pattern that develops whenever someone puts forward a new idea. The focus shifts quickly from the idea to the person. They gain followers. They get invited onto podcasts. They give talks. All of which requires putting out more content. More content keeps people coming back to the feed.

In this case that defeats the purpose entirely.

Sure, a bigger following means more money. But if I come back to post several times a day I am terminally online chasing engagement. I would rather post when I have something worth sharing.

L'Stream addresses this directly in the interview.

I think I've created something useful. Helpful, even.

Let that be enough.

— Sam Harker