In this introductory audio chapter of The Future of You (2021), the narrator outlines the book’s central premise: technology is adding a third dimension to personal identity, beyond psychology and biology, creating a "technology of the self." The narrative begins with a personal anecdote about a Facebook account that refused to recognize the narrator’s government‑issued passport, prompting a reflection on how platforms can become de‑facto authorities on identity. The speaker surveys philosophical positions on personal identity, noting the lack of consensus among scholars, and distinguishes this work from philosophical or identity‑politics debates. The core argument is that over the past two decades, identity has shifted from an analog, state‑controlled construct to a distributed digital presence across social platforms, banking, work tools, and biometric systems. This distribution brings benefits of connectivity but also amplifies vulnerability, enabling synthetic identity fraud, multi‑persona performance on social media (illustrated by the Dolly Parton meme), and a general user complacency toward privacy settings (citing a Harvard‑Law‑School experiment). The introduction warns of macro‑level threats, citing Yuval Noah Harari’s warning that biological knowledge, computing power, and data together allow adversaries to “hack humans,” potentially turning nations into “data colonies.” The narrator calls for proactive design of identity governance, promising later chapters that will explore technologies, trade‑offs, and visions from a wide range of experts. The overall message is that without deliberate debate, platforms and governments may dictate identity, eroding personal agency.
Chapters
This is The Future of You, first published in 2021. I'm releasing it here as an audio series, chapter by chapter. It explores how technology is reshaping identity before many of these systems ever became mainstream. For centuries, we understood identity through merely two dimensions: the psychology of the self and the biology of the self. This book explores what I came to call the technology of the self. A Third Dimension. You'll hear chapters from Knowing You, Watching You, Creating You, Connecting You, Replacing You, Enhancing You, and even Destroying You, as well as the introduction and the conclusion. Introduction: Distributing You. I'm not who I say I am, at least not according to Facebook. A few years ago, I opened an email from Facebook that began Dear Byron. It was an email to me at my usual email address, but the name of the person it was addressed to was Byron Loweth. This continued for several weeks, with notifications from Facebook popping up to show me the latest status updates from my 30-year-old male friends. Everyone seemed to be having a lovely time. The problem was I didn't recognize any of them. They weren't my friends, they were Byron's friends. I soon suspected my Facebook account had been hacked. My login details didn't seem to work, so I opted to lock my account, reset my email password, and then log in afresh to Facebook. But the process required that I upload some personal identification, with a range of options offered such as a driving license or a passport. And I wondered if this might be a phishing scam, but having satisfied myself that it all seemed above board, I scanned in a copy of my passport and went off to make a cup of tea while I waited for Facebook to tell me it had unlocked my account. I returned to find a message that said my account could not be unlocked. Having scrutinised my passport, Facebook had concluded that this wasn't me. Wait, what? What did they mean this wasn't me? It was my Facebook account, with photos of me all over my feed, that matched the one on my passport. If not me, who did they think I was? To this day, I have not been able to unlock my Facebook account, and I can only assume that if I have any presence on the site at all, I do so in a semi-deactivated state of social limbo. But it got me thinking. I had been asked to prove my identity in order to access a website, and I had uploaded a copy of a document designed to give me access to whole countries, proof of identity that I had to carry around with me 24 hours a day when I lived abroad,, and which you have to go to quite some trouble to replace should it be lost. But Facebook didn't recognize it, and it didn't recognize me. The automated system of a technology platform had decided that my government-issued paperwork didn't prove who I said I was. There was no human within the system to whom I could appeal. I began to worry. If a technology platform could set itself up as the authority when it comes to verifying my identity, what else might its algorithms and those all my other online service providers be deciding about me? If I could be told that I wasn't me, I felt like question marks could be raised over every other aspect of my existence, and I started to wonder who was in charge. Who am I? is one of the most fundamental questions that we can ask ourselves. It seems such a simple question to pose, but philosophers have wrestled with possible answers for centuries. And they are still arguing about it today. In 2013, David Bourget from the University of Western Ontario and David Chalmers from New York University conducted a survey of the views of just under 2,000 contemporary professional philosophers and found that opinion was split on the nature of personal identity. Just over a third of respondents had a psychological view of personal identity, that I am who I am for as long as I remain capable of psychological processes. Such as thinking, believing, desiring, remembering, and choosing. Just under 17% had a biological view, that I am who I am for as long as my body continues to exist. And 12% opted for the so-called further fact view, that who I am depends on more than my continued psychological and biological existence. And the rest backed various other unspecified theories. If eminent philosophers can't agree on a universal theory of personal identity, then I am certainly not going to venture into one. This book is not going to offer a philosophical analysis of identity. There are plenty of very good reads on that from philosophers past and present. Nor is it going to be about identity in the sense of identity politics. The way in which people choose to identify themselves in all sorts of different ways that have become increasingly politicised, such as nationality, race, and gender. There is plenty to be said about movements such as MeToo and Black Lives Matter. Indeed, the media seem to cover them 24/7, but they revolve around quite a narrow view of identity as something associated solely with the colour of our skin, our gender, class, or sexuality. The kind of identity that I want to talk about is a far broader, richer concept. I believe that the notion of identity has become more important than ever, thanks to the disruptive effect of technology. After my experience with Facebook, it has dawned on me that a significant shift is taking place. In the past, I always assumed that I had control over my own identity via my state-issued credentials, that they represented a mutually agreed proof of identity between myself and the state. And to a large extent, that was true. Years ago, what you considered to be "you" existed almost entirely in the analogue world. There were certain key documents and information linked to your identity held by the government and a few other official institutions, such as your bank. But mostly, what defined you as "you" existed in the real world, under your control. Your photographs, your receipts, your physical body, your work, your interactions with others. Over the last 20 years or so, however, with the rise of technology platforms like Facebook, we live much more of our lives online, relying on machines to verify, authenticate, validate, and connect us under their terms of service rather than ours. It makes me wonder if we are in danger of losing control. Over who we are. In this digital, data-driven, interconnected world that we now find ourselves in, our identity has become distributed throughout a network of online sign-ins and subscriptions, through social platforms and work productivity apps, through online bank accounts and shopping carts that hold our credit card details, and through office entry systems that can verify who we are from the sound of our voice or a quick scan of our face. The interconnectivity of the digital world has great benefits. People can share ideas, collaborate on projects, and learn from each other much more easily. And the more connected we are, the more innovative we are. But equally, the more connected we are, the more vulnerable we are. Now that our identities are distributed across the web, more people can gain access to our personal information views, contacts, and ideas, which has helped to drive an increase in identity fraud. In fact, synthetic identity fraud, the blending of real and fake information to invent a person who can access services and then disappear, is one of today's fastest growing forms of fraud. Technology has caused us to think differently about who we are. The proliferation of social media platforms has given us greater opportunities to shape and share our personal identity. But they have also made it possible for us to present different personas via different media and distribute ourself. In January 2020, a hugely successful meme was born when the country singer Dolly Parton was invited to take part in what became known as the Social Media Challenge, creating a grid of 4 photographs that would make perfect profile pictures for LinkedIn, Facebook, Instagram, and Tinder accounts. Each of the images she uploaded for the challenge were quite distinct from each other. LinkedIn Dolly is pictured looking serious and professional in a work suit and an updo. Facebook Dolly is shown wearing a friendly girl-next-door Christmas sweater. Instagram Dolly is depicted in arty black and white wearing a pair of jeans and carrying her guitar. And Tinder Dolly is dressed in a Playboy bunny outfit. What else? And underneath the grid of images she has written, "Get you a woman who can do it all." As that meme took off, millions of people, celebrities and non-celebrities alike, proceeded to post their own versions, much to the amusement of their families, friends, and followers. But behind the fun, there was a serious point about the way in which most of us choose to showcase different personas for different contexts. We are expected to present different versions of ourselves, not only to attract attention, but to fit in. It's almost as if identity is increasingly about performing a role, and not just one role, but many. In some ways, this means we are gaining a huge amount of control in terms of how we portray ourselves, with exciting new avenues appearing all the time for the exploration and creation of our own identity. It also offers a challenge to our traditional notions of a single, coherent identity, inviting us to embrace multiple personas and more fluid concepts of identity. But I also fear that the same technology could see us lose control of our identities entirely. Take the social media services to which we enthusiastically upload so many of our photographs. Most of us probably have no idea what their terms of service are. While you technically still own the photos, you are also agreeing that the platform has the right to use them for as long as they are stored there. And if you aren't happy with that, it may not be enough just to delete your content if others have chosen to share and repost it. In theory, these social media platforms could make use of your images in any way they like, whether you feel comfortable about it or not. We are unthinkingly handing over huge amounts of our personal identity all the time. With a simple tick of a box, whether we are agreeing to terms and conditions that we haven't read or opting for some default privacy settings, we give permission to online platforms to build up an increasingly detailed picture of who we are, what we browse, what entertainment we like, who our friends are, where we live, when we get up in the morning, and where we are at any minute of any given day. In a 2018 discussion paper for Harvard Law School, researcher Dan Swirsky revealed the results of an experiment that he conducted to understand our attitudes towards online privacy. In the experiment, he first asked respondents to answer an online survey in exchange for a payment of 2 cents, but offered them an extra 50 cents if they would also agree to share their Facebook profile. When faced with such a direct trade-off, the majority of participants chose not to disclose details about their Facebook profile. And the same was true for participants offered an extra payment of as much as $5, which would seem to suggest that we do place a value on our privacy. He then conducted the same experiment, but this time didn't explain the privacy options directly. He just offered the respondents the same choice of payments as above, but provided them with a button to click to find out for free if this meant sharing their Facebook profiles. This time, most respondents didn't bother to click the button to find out which payment option would mean giving up their privacy. They just took the higher amount of money regardless. In other words, we might value our privacy, but not so much that we're prepared to read through our privacy settings, even when in this case they could be accessed with one click of the button and amounted to a simple choice between low privacy and high privacy. As Cameron D'Ambrosi, principal of market intelligence and strategy firm One World Identity, puts it: 'People just mash that button and give up all their data immediately to get where they want to go.' Given that most privacy preferences and terms and conditions forms are much more complex than in this experiment, it is no surprise to find that we are so free and easy with our online data. And that's another reason I worry about us losing track of our identities, allowing them to be distributed so far and wide online that there can exist several versions of you. Anyone able to hack into the databases of these online platforms would have the opportunity to steal or use elements of your personal data to create a synthetic identity that is only partly you. At the 2020 World Economic Forum gathering at Davos, author Yuval Noah Harari gave a speech in which he warned that this danger applies to nations as well as individuals. If an adversary could hack into the personal, medical, and financial records of a nation's politicians to discover details of illicit sexual exploits and corrupt deals, it could then hold those leaders to ransom and turn the target nation into little more than a 'data colony'. And he offered a bleak assessment of the threat to identity that each one of us faces: "The danger can be stated in the form of a simple equation, which I think might be the defining equation of life in the 21st century," he said. "B × C × D AHH. Biological knowledge multiplied by computing power multiplied by data equals the ability to hack humans." Aha! In short, identity matters. And it matters now more than ever, because technology is changing every aspect of who we are. Our identity in the eyes of the law and the government, our interactions with other people, our capacity to reach beyond the current confines of our bodies and minds, our very understanding of what identity is, and even our ability to cheat death. I believe we need to start considering the implications of this change now. Over the course of this book, we will look at the technology driving the change that we can see today and the change that's coming in the future. We will consider where this technology might take us and examine the trade-offs and decisions that nations, organizations, citizens, and consumers will have to make. We will confront the many challenges that await us and relish the opportunities that will surely come our way. We will compare contrasting visions of the future and hear from people who are helping to shape it: scientists, technologists, entrepreneurs, philosophers, economists, investors, geneticists, futurists, ethicists, politicians, lawyers, transhumanists, astronauts, avatars, and cyborgs. And through it all, we will see that the scale and pace at which technology is now changing our identities is unprecedented. If we fail to discuss and debate these issues now, then without us noticing, technology companies may decide our identity for us. Governments might insist that our identity needs to conform with those around us. And anonymity may even replace identity altogether. It is time to design the future of identity in the way that we want. In the forthcoming chapters, let's consider what that means for your future, because like all of us, you will have your own choices to make about how much your future identity will be governed by the traditional psychology of self as opposed to the evolving technology of the self. That is what I mean. By the future of you.
