The workers with the “least power” have to reply instantly. Creators desperate for growth have to post constantly. The small businesses have to be “always on” because the algorithm punishes absence. Meanwhile, the cultural "elite" are smoking cigarettes out the back door and saying Irish goodbyes.

Think about it. Having no notifications is now a flex. Being hard to contact signals importance. And going unseen online implies a life so full, you don’t need the performance.

This is where the digital detox economy stops being about wellness and becomes about class. Because the privilege of not participating is not evenly distributed.

That was the dream, I guess? A flat, frictionless world where availability was universal.

But in practice, the opposite happened. Those with the most demanding offline lives gained the most power by participating the least online. Those with the most precarious lives had to do the most to stay visible.

Now the internet is splitting into two classes:

1. The Unreachable. People who can afford to disappear. They work jobs where silence signals seniority, not disrespect. Their careers don’t collapse if they don’t post for a month. Their social lives don’t depend on maintaining a feed. When and how tech enters their day is a conscious choice.

2. The Perpetually Available. People who are "punished" for disappearing. Their income, relevance, or stability depend on engagement. Their phone is part leash, part lifeline.

This divide is reshaping aspiration. Everyone wants to be in Group 1. Duh.  And that is creating a cultural market for unreachability.

Platforms and brands have realised that the next frontier of growth isn’t adding more features, it’s adding more friction. Which is hilarious, considering these are the same companies that built their empires on eliminating all of that.

But capitalism has never met a contradiction it couldn’t monetise.

We’re already seeing the shift:

Tech is being forced to adapt because the people with power are no longer asking: “How can I do more online?” They’re asking: “How can I do less and still get what I need?”

And when the powerful shift, platforms obey.

The business model of the internet was built on attention. But attention has become a scarce, stratified resource, one increasingly hoarded by those who can afford to ignore you.

To keep users, they must help them use the platform less.

To retain relevance, they must reduce the demands they place on people’s lives.

To stay alive, they must embrace the very behaviour that threatens their survival.

We are watching the internet reverse-engineer itself.

It means your audience is no longer asking, “Why should I engage with you?” They’re asking, “Why should I permit you access to my limited attention at all?”

So the new rules become:

Your most valuable consumer is the one who barely participates. Not because they’re uninterested, but because they’re discerning.

-Sophie Randell, Writer