The year 2026 is the year of nostalgia, where reminiscing about 2016 temporarily transports us back to lighter times. However, nostalgia actually traces back farther with the analog trend. Film cameras, writing letters, physical media, and crafting hobbies saw a more noticeable return in digital communities among younger generations. This culture and lifestyle shift initially began on TikTok as a movement against the overuse of artificial intelligence (AI) and the longstanding toll of social media on mental well-being.
This trend is not new, exactly, as going analog has long been understood as a tangible form of digital detox, but it has made a stronger comeback now. A study about an analog lifestyle among children and teens in the Journal of Medical Internet Research recalled that flip phone sales in the United States increased in 2023, and subsequently highlighted the growing interest in being “chronically offline” in 2026.
But beyond these benefits, there comes a bigger revelation and purpose in living the analog lifestyle, which is pushing back against digital capitalism. This kind of capitalism, according to the CFA Institute Research & Policy Center, utilises collecting personal data and compulsory online upgrades in managing our economy. Therefore, ownership of a product becomes temporary, warranting a discussion on human agency and digital ownership.
Taking individual ownership
The digital world provided a larger means for capitalism to dominate. With this came barriers, particularly subscriptions and premiums needed to access services, information, and even hobbies. Nearly everything is behind a paywall: music and video streaming, video games, and even journal articles and tool softwares.
Less common is the practice where for example, we could collect DVDs and keep them indefinitely to watch our desired movies at any time. Though streaming services like Netflix are more convenient, digital capitalism can actually limit access due to subscriptions.
More than the financial concerns, a more humanistic issue of this matter is that there is little to no ownership in the digital world. Once we stop paying the subscription fee or the platform shuts down, we lose the service. Much of what we “own” is actually impermanent in this day and age; we can accumulate as many digital possessions as we desire, but we are not actually owners in the digital realm.
This is not just an issue for consumers, but also for creators. Digital capitalism comprises centralised economies such as gig, platform, and shared economies. In this context, they become commodities over time. From how Spotify calculates artists’ royalties and payouts to how YouTube’s algorithm affects viewership, creators surrender to metrics and analytics they can not control, which goes under the profit-driven systems of capitalism.
It remains true that there is much better access and even personalisation in digital platforms, but the above arguments hope to raise certain illusions when it comes to “access.” Therefore, going analog would mean to challenge the capitalist system of impermanence and commodities, where humans are seen beyond as tools in a system that does not serve them. And in that process, analog living revitalises humanity in our activities and possessions.
Setting the intentions
Besides the material aspect, the analog trend spotlights the importance of intentions. Heavy digitalisation and capitalist control over our choices and how we make them bring another illusion, this time when it comes to ‘choice’. This is due to choice architecture, wherein AI and algorithms—not human actors—automate preferences into pre-determined choices.
In the analog trend, we see more clearly what our actions and possessions actually mean, from the quality of our belongings to the quality of our connections. On the topic of connections, there are interesting findings of not just social interaction in the online world but also how systems like digital capitalism can affect them. For one, an analysis of digital capitalism and friendship in the Journal of Digital Social Research found that capitalism in social media “quantifies and bureaucratises friendship” for the sake of achievement, leaving effects of alienation, self-exploitation, and lack of relatedness.
When we break the barrier of digital capitalism in our connections, we can see and build something that lasts. A popular example would be purchasing from local artists; conversing about common interests and feeling their talent and effort in our own hands would bring a profound feeling.
Besides finding communities with the same analog interests, we can also find a deeper connection with ourselves. In picking up an analog hobby, we engage with our talents and perspectives. When reading a book, we learn to absorb and question perspectives; when we crochet, we examine our dexterity; when we develop the rolls in film cameras, we get to recall every memory.
Capitalism takes a lot of our humanity away in exchange for profit.
The analog trend may appear as a mere act of going online less, but revelations and academic literature in this article and in related pieces slowly reveal how a simple trend can question larger systems. On that note, I share the hopes that going analog transcends beyond being a trend and fleeting nostalgia. There are also, unfortunately, capitalistic interventions to be aware of such as overconsumption of analog products.
Regardless, the analog trend is now filling the void that social media bore into our psyches, breaking paywalls inhibiting our opportunities, and seeking to reclaim human agency and ownership which capitalism is trying to take away.
Going analog, then, would mean not surrendering to control but to living in control. It is amusing that 2026 is tagged as a year of nostalgia. Maybe the nostalgia that we have been feeling signifies more than going back to the past, but yearning for something sincere.