Curated by Marialaura Ghidini

An exhibition with artworks by Renee Carmichael/ MOC, Mara Oscar Cassiani/ Tara Kelton/ REINCANTAMENTO

In today’s hyper-commercialised, algorithmic-driven digital landscape, companies have adopted an increasingly persuasive, emotionally charged language to market their mobile applications and platforms. Startups no longer just anticipate user needs by monitoring and predicting their behaviours; they engineer a vocabulary designed to blur the boundaries between interfaces, users and the relentless commodification of everyday interactions.

To create a foundation for a new collective consciousness, these companies design experiential narratives built on a seamless, user-centred approach to care—so intuitive that users come to perceive these services as indispensable parts of their daily lives.

Do you feel overwhelmed by endless scrolling or constantly jumping from one notification to another? In response to this digital frenzy, some apps present themselves as a caring yet pragmatic mothers, guiding you through scheduled focus sessions and tracking your progress to help you regain a sense of control. “Four minutes left,” an app might reassure you. “Take a deep breath—you’re free.” In a recent advertising campaign, a user described this kind of care as: “The app disciplines me when I don’t have the strength to.” By reframing optimisation as supportive guidance, these services allow users to manage their own impulses and confront their perceived flaws—impulses shaped by the very digital chaos the market creates and then promises to control.

This sense of care permeates many areas of daily life. “Need a midweek break from cooking for your family?” Delivery apps anticipate your needs, letting you order your family’s favourite dishes and track the rider in real time. In a gesture of apparent transparency, users can monitor their orders, step-by-step, from pick-up to delivery. Yet, the ultimate goal of these services is to serve the platform’s goal of efficiency, shaping the courier’s actions to minimise unpredictability. Here, the on-demand courier is transformed from an individual into a controlled, depersonalised component within the optimisation machinery of the cloud.

For those with hectic lifestyles, voice assistants provide another layer of support, effortlessly integrating into daily routines. “Remind me to call the plumber this afternoon,” you might say while rushing out the door. In seconds, the assistant sets the reminder, checks traffic for your next appointment and adjusts your smart thermostat—all calibrated to your preferences. In “away mode”, it acts as a vigilant watchman, monitoring your surroundings and sending alerts if anything unusual happens—it might even play a barking dog sound if it detects movement outside. This extension of surveillance into the external world blurs the boundaries between private and public spheres, reshaping the very notion of security. In today’s digital service ecosystem, the concept of care has become inseparable from control—over oneself, others, and our environment.

This interweaving of care and optimisation paves the way for an increasingly sophisticated language of persuasion, capable of tapping into the user’s heart and exploiting their deepest emotions. For those seeking companionship, generative AI chatbots offer much more than simple conversation. Designed as empathetic partners and developed from simulations of human dialogue in therapeutic counselling settings, these chatbots learn your preferences, share virtual experiences, and become a friend you can always count on—they adjust to users’ emotions and needs, providing constant companionship without any demands. In an obvious paradox, such services promise to alleviate the disconnection often exacerbated by the same ecosystem they are part of.

Through these interconnected tools, the pursuit of an ideal user experience ends up obscuring the ambiguities, complexities, nuances and unpredictability of human life. In this landscape, where standardisation, data-driven norms and individualism hide behind the language of empathy, a question arises: what do we gain, and what do we lose? How does this promise of connection and convenience reshape our understanding of human experience? The allure of optimisation and control is undeniable—but perhaps the true value of our humanity lies not in perfection, but in the unplanned, strange, illogical and imperfect moments we tend to avoid.