It was 3 am. It was a moment of weakness, wrapped in boredom, and buried in my comforter. I was sure my wife was asleep, so I rolled over and fired up my phone. I shielded the screen so that, if she were to stir, she wouldn’t see what I was doing. Then I began scrolling.
There was no specific destination in mind, but, as most of these little digital forays go, I was looking for something exotic to me. Maybe Swedish? Usually, wherever I start, it ends up Swedish. I found a few of the early generation CrossCountry Volvo wagons I liked for sale nearby on Facebook Marketplace. ‘That could be fun!’ I casually thought to myself, before moving on to stickshift trucks. Eventually, I got tired and went back to sleep.
That was about a month ago, and ever since that moment, I’ve been bombarded with reminders that what I need is a P2 generation XC70, and that I need to lift it in a very specific way. I have a car that I like, and while I’ve pondered replacing it, it’s not something I can do right now.
The algorithm doesn’t want me to love one I’m with, it wants me to love a 2007 Volvo XC70 with somewhere between 130-180k miles on it. It won’t stop.
From Facebook Marketplace To Instagram To Every Conversation
When I speak of “the algorithm,” I’m giving a name to various recommendation engines across a number of platforms. While they’re weighted to work in slightly different ways, the goal is always to produce a reaction in me that can lead to more engagement, and therefore more commerce for the platform itself.
In exchange for my attention, I can buy or sell a car through a terrible and mostly awkward process. I think anyone who uses Facebook Marketplace knows that it’s a deeply broken system (it also offered me up lactation cookies and a bandana from the scariest man I’ve ever seen in my life). It has scale, though, and over time, it learns what my deepest and darkest desires are. I just logged in and was immediately offered three Volvo wagons, a Taurus SHO, a Honda moped, and a Baja.
I’ve owned two Volvo wagons before, so I’m always at risk of having a third, but it’s mostly the RWD ones I’m into. Ideally, I want another car with a manual if I’m going to replace the car I have now. Also, I’m not trying to necessarily replace the car I have right now, but this is how brains work.
If it were just Facebook Marketplace, I think I’d be ok with it. It’s a classifieds platform, that’s the gig. But somehow, Instagram (also owned by Meta) got in on it, so this happened next:
That’s a lifted XC70, also a P2, and it now just looks right to me.
And then this:
That video is promoting the diesel engine available in the P2 in Europe, but not, so far as I know, offered in the United States. This is a little more recent, and it’s so on the nose that it almost hurts to look at it (although I sent it to my wife and friends):
Damn, got me. It’s true, nobody will remember how much I made (enough) or how many hours I worked (more than enough). No, they will remember my… 18-year-old Volvo wagon I don’t even own? What’s screwed up about this is that it’s worked on me.
The Algorithm Is Tuned All Wrong
You could argue that Facebook merely unearthed a yearning I had within me, and the constant bombardment of cars for sale, reels, and posts was helping me admit to myself what I want.
Alternatively, I might argue that the Internet was supposed to be about discovery, or at least I thought that was the whole deal. What social media and “the algorithm” are doing is finding the dopamine receptors in my brain and firing them up like one of those fireworks displays gone wrong on Instagram.
The algo is now creating something a bit like The Entertainment from David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. While that particular novel is mostly read on public transport by people hoping desperately that they’ll get asked about it and that the inquirer will be so impressed with the description of the book that they’ll jump their bones right then and there, it also has a point. Within the novel, there’s a film that’s so entertaining that it overwhelms the viewer to the point that they can no longer take care of themselves. Entertainment as an irrepressible addiction.
That’s what’s happening to me, but with old Volvos. It’s also what’s happening with HBO, Warner Bros, and Netflix. HBO is kind of an incredible place, producing shows that aren’t necessarily ones that the algorithm would think to produce. There’s The Sopranos, The Wire, and Flight of the Conchords. All shows I don’t think would end up on Netflix originally, because what Netflix does is largely make shows for the algorithm.
This doesn’t mean there’s not a place for that. Is It Cake is a TikTok and Instagram fad that’s been turned into a game show, and I still enjoy it. You can have both, I suppose, but just being told what to think and enjoy by your inner kinks doesn’t feel healthy to me.
Would you get another The Wire from the algorithm? Or would you just get 900 variations of Love Is Blind and a show called Six-Seven?
I Still Want One, Though
When I have downtime, I’ve been going on the various platforms to see what’s available. It’s not that I’m going to pull the trigger anytime soon, but now I must inform myself of the market for when that moment comes.
I did try to convince a friend who was looking for a cheap, safe car for his kid to check out this 2003 model, which has 191k miles on the clock but otherwise looks good. Perhaps I can learn something from his experience.
There’s this one on Facebook marketplace that seems to be the top of the market, due in part to its curiously low miles (too low for me, I think). Having fallen so deeply and regularly into the rabbit hole that they’ve erected a cot for me, I am mostly convinced I’m going to get a clean stock one and do the work myself.
A company called Bad Swede has a two-inch lit kit, and that seems about how much space I’d want. That, plus some wheels and A/T tires, and I could have a car that’s comfortable on the inside and unstoppable on the outside.
Why? To what true end? I don’t know. It’s just who I am now.
If I wanted to go bought-not-built, there’s a 2007 Ocean Race that’s fairly close to my aesthetic:
I do like the shimmering dark blue from the other Ocean Races a little better, but I’m not that picky. I also appreciate that this doesn’t have some obnoxious LED lights on (yet).
Obviously, I do not have a parking space for it. I do not have the excess funds I want to dedicate to it. If I want to drive a Volvo, I can always ask Volvo, and they’ll send me one. I could be putting this energy into making my own BMW better, but now I do this. This is my life now. My wife and child are sick of hearing about the low-pressure turbo inline-five and how it’s probably not a maintenance nightmare, and that people complaining are mostly thinking of the V70R…
Send help (or Volvo links).
Top graphic images: Volvo; DepositPhotos.com
The post The Algorithm Has Decided I Want A 2007 Volvo Wagon And It’s Ruining My Life appeared first on The Autopian.
