Agency in the Age of Design
We are told we live in a world of choices. Endless scrolls of options, toggles, preferences, and settings give the impression of freedom. But it’s worth asking: did we really choose the life we’re living, or was it designed for us in subtle, invisible ways by the principles of free will and design ethics?
The question isn’t about conspiracy or control. It’s about whether we still recognise the difference between a decision and a default. In many cases, we are not making active choices. We are selecting from menus crafted by others, shaped by algorithms we do not see, inside systems we did not build. If we don’t question this design, then the illusion of choice may be just that. An illusion.
The Quiet Mechanics of Influence
The idea of “nudging” became popular in the early 2000s. It gained particular traction in the UK under David Cameron’s Conservative government, with the creation of the Behavioural Insights Team, the Nudge Unit. The theory behind it was simple enough: help people make better choices, not by removing freedom but by structuring the environment so that the better option is easier to take.
It sounds harmless. Helpful, even. But there’s a deeper issue here. Nudging assumes that someone else knows what’s best for you, and that your behaviour can, and perhaps should, be steered. What begins as behavioural science can become behavioural management. The person making the decision doesn’t always realise they’re being guided. And that’s the problem.
This isn’t just a concern for libertarians or privacy advocates. It strikes at the heart of personal dignity. People deserve the right to make informed choices, even if those choices are imperfect. Freedom must include the possibility of getting it wrong.
Different Politics, Same Pattern
It’s not only technocrats who shape behaviour. Populist movements do it as well, but through emotional appeals rather than system design. In these cases, identity becomes the mechanism of control. You are either for the movement or against it. There is little room for nuance. Emotional triggers replace reasoned debate. The individual is absorbed into a crowd that is told what to believe, and more importantly, what to fear.
Socialist systems, too, have their own approach. Rather than nudging individual behaviour, they often restructure entire frameworks. Redistribution, regulation, and state-driven programs may come from a genuine desire to help, but they can also remove the need or the ability to choose for oneself. The state becomes the decider. The citizen becomes the recipient. Again, the outcome is a narrowing of individual agency.
Whether it is done by data science, political messaging, or economic planning, the result is the same. The person becomes shaped by the system, rather than shaping it.
Responsibility, Not Control
As a classical liberal, I believe in freedom. Responsible freedom. The right to choose should always be protected, but it should never be blind. With that freedom comes responsibility for one’s actions, and an understanding that those actions must not cause harm to others.
This is not a call for chaos or deregulation. It is a call for transparency and restraint. Systems should support the individual, not quietly replace them. Design should invite participation, not produce obedience. We must be careful not to trade dignity for convenience.
There is a difference between helping people and shaping them. The former trusts the individual. The latter replaces them with a version that fits the system better.
The Tools Shape the User
Every time we use a tool, that tool changes us. It improves something while weakening something else. GPS helps us get around but makes us worse at navigating without it. Smart home devices save time but increase our dependency on cloud systems. News feeds keep us informed but often through biased filters.
None of these tools are bad in themselves. The concern is what happens when we stop noticing how they affect us. When we let technology change how we think, relate, and live without reflection or consent, we begin to lose something human. Not all progress is neutral. Some comes at the cost of awareness.
The most powerful influence is the one you don’t realise is there.
When Choice Becomes Illusion
Modern digital systems are designed to feel empowering. You can customise your profile, set preferences, and choose your privacy level. But beneath the surface, many of the important choices were made long before you arrived.
The algorithms decide what you see. The interface decides what you notice. The platform decides what counts as engagement. You are moving through a world designed by someone else, for purposes you may not know.
This isn’t freedom. It is a simulation of freedom. A menu of options that look personal, but are guided by invisible goals. Whether that means selling a product, maintaining attention, or shaping opinion.
When systems optimise for behaviour rather than understanding, we risk becoming users, not citizens. That distinction matters.
Design That Respects Agency
This does not require rejecting design altogether. What matters is how we design, and for whom. Ethical systems should not make choices on our behalf, but rather make those choices visible. A respectful interface engages the user’s mind, not bypasses it. There should be room for disagreement, uncertainty, and paths that do not lead where the designer expects. True agency includes the ability to walk away.
We need tools that are transparent in their goals, honest about their influence, and built to support human agency, not replace it.
Some of this is already happening. Decentralised technologies, open-source projects, and user-owned identity systems are early steps in a better direction. These tools are not perfect, but they shift power. They ask questions. They treat the user as a participant, not a product.
That is the kind of design worth building.
A Future Still Undecided
The systems we live in were not all our choice. Many were inherited, some imposed, and others quietly accepted because they were convenient. But that does not mean the future is fixed.
We still have a say in the kind of world we build. Instead of accepting complexity without question, we can push for systems that explain themselves clearly. Some tools may be beyond our control, but others can be designed to respect human boundaries and limitations. Whenever freedom is traded for convenience, we have the right and the responsibility to raise our voices.
This life may not have been entirely of our choosing. Still, we are not without influence. A different version is always possible. Rather than passively navigating someone else’s architecture, we can take part in shaping the next layer of the code.
Freedom does not just mean being left alone. It means having the space, and the right, to live a life that reflects who you are, not what the system wants you to be.
And that, in the end, is a life worth choosing.
