May Alice Le Dréau forgive me, but the story seemed to me too symbolic not to be shared. My colleague, two offices away, received a promotional email, like everyone receives dozens every day. But this one is not for trendy clothes or decoration. It concerns coffins. More specifically, personalized caskets.
Because yes, the solid pine or lacquered oak box can be decorated with family photos, dolphins, doves, flowers, in short, almost anything. Companies even offer to cover the coffin with slate panels so that everyone can leave a note or a chalk drawing on it.
Personalization at all times
I will not judge the good or bad taste of personalized coffins, everyone is free to be buried as they feel and in the final resting place they wish. But this anecdote illustrates well the trend towards personalization of all aspects of life – and even therefore, of death. Clothes can be embroidered, sneakers drawn, mugs printed, bodies tattooed. Nothing very new, except that personalization no longer stops at objects, it gains the immaterial.
Dozens of travel agencies offer “unique” tourist experiences. Sport is teeming with coaches who establish “tailor-made” programs. And in digital, everything now depends on the “user journey”. Alice, who has written a multitude of brilliant end-of-life articles in your favorite newspaper, has therefore been identified as “interested in death” and receives emails offering her coffins.
Personalization becomes even more pernicious on social networks, where the “bubble effect” means that we only see messages that correspond to our opinions, users who look like us, and targeted advertisements. In short, we are in a digital box fashioned in our image, not very far from the personalized coffin.
Targeted and problematic ads
Without even mentioning the importance of data protection, this personalization can be unfortunate. Facebook and Instagram users lament the posting of ads for baby products after they had a miscarriage. Former alcoholics who share their experiences are advised of brands of beer and spirits. People with eating disorders find themselves face-to-face with slim-waisted mannequins and articles like “The weight-loss trick that has doctors shivering.”
For me, I get emails about WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment. Yes, the American wrestling business. No, I have never written about wrestling until now, or even about a similar sport. I don’t watch wrestling either, and I practice it even less, except when it’s time to change the cat’s flea collar. I have no explanation for this “profiling” except that sometimes the algorithm is wrong. And somewhere, in a virtual universe that knows me better than myself, it’s quite reassuring.