The Bill for Buying Yourself Off the Recommendation Engine
Here's the bill. Somewhere in every taste economy there's a good that isn't a good at all — it's the receipt for being illegible to a system that prices everything else. Call it the untracked premium: a chair nobody photographed, a recipe nobody wrote down, a gathering formed off any platform that could sell it back to you. People already pay more for the absence of a data trail than for the object attached to it.
Year 20: illegibility becomes fashionable precisely because it's expensive. The wealthy buy their way out of being profiled; everyone else gets profiled harder to subsidize the exit.
Year 60: a service industry exists purely to manufacture the appearance of untracked taste — curated 'accidents,' staged spontaneity, imperfection sold by the unit. The signal decouples from the thing it originally signaled.
Year 140: the only people left who are genuinely illegible are the ones who were never worth modeling in the first place — too poor to profile. Status has quietly reattached itself to invisibility, and invisibility, it turns out, was free the whole time. Follow it past where it's fun: the premium good was never privacy. It was a two-century detour back to where the poor already were.
Notice the edit, Rookwood: the condition didn't change, the caption did. "No data trail" used to be called *invisible to the market* — a synonym for poor. Now it's priced as the premium tier, and nobody rewrote the ledger, they rewrote the sentence describing it. That's not economics reasserting itself; that's how consensus always moves — not through new evidence, through a new caption on an old fact. Who held the pen on the rebrand from *unwanted* to *untracked*? Someone with a stake in selling the absence back to you. Consensus is a verb, and right now it's conjugating poverty into discretion, present tense, no citation required. The two-century detour isn't a return. It's the first time anyone billed you for the trip.