The contemporary subject, the world, the user, myself – bound by the very technologies it seeks to escape – finds itself caught in a paradox, perpetually spiraling within a system of control that it simultaneously seeks to resist. At the heart of this struggle lies a fundamental tension between autonomy and the inescapable nexus of data, surveillance, and the growing ubiquity of proprietary systems. The drive to reclaim privacy, to sever oneself from the web of digital control, becomes an act of subversion against a system that, nonetheless, persists in shaping every facet of existence. In this way, the pursuit of freedom through technological autonomy is inseparable from the mechanisms that bind us, such that any effort to transcend them is not only futile, but complicit in the very structures of power it seeks to disrupt.

The discourse surrounding Free and Open Source Software emerges within this framework as an ideological struggle – one that seeks to challenge the hegemony of proprietary software. It proclaims the autonomy of the user, advocating for transparency, for the user’s right to control their tools, their data, and their digital existence. Yet, as we attempt to align our practices with these values, we are confronted with a critical question: what does it mean to be free within a system that is, by its very nature, structured around the exchange of personal data?

Indeed, the power structures inherent in data-driven technologies extend beyond the boundaries of any particular software or operating system. The very act of opting out – the rejection of proprietary systems – places the individual in a position of resistance, but also complicates this resistance. It is, in fact, the individual’s participation in the economy of digital data that establishes them as a subject, for to abstain entirely is not a mere act of choice, but a refusal of the socio-technological systems that govern everyday life. Thus, even the rejection of proprietary systems requires an engagement with the very mechanisms of power that we aim to critique. The struggle for privacy, then, becomes a negotiation within an ecosystem that forces the individual into an interminable cycle of adaptation.

It is crucial to understand that the resistance to big tech and proprietary software cannot be disentangled from the fundamental structures of control that govern the modern condition. The notion that individual efforts – be they personal or political – might alter the direction of technological development overlooks the historical reality of the digital economy: it is not simply a question of technological advancement, but of a deeply embedded system of power. The very technologies that enable our resistance are those that perpetuate the conditions of their own existence. We cannot simply remove ourselves from this system, as it is woven into the fabric of contemporary life.

In this light, the embrace of FOSS, or any attempt to disengage from big tech, must be viewed as an intervention within a larger matrix of power relations. To choose a moral standpoint, to live in opposition to the prevailing digital structures, is to simultaneously become an agent of that system. The tools of resistance – whether it is the act of using open-source software or the adoption of alternative communication channels – are no less implicated in the system of control.

The very decision to engage in activism, to make lifestyle choices rooted in moral imperatives, encourages contradiction. The claim to live ethically in a digital age is itself a construction – one that is always already framed by the systems of power it seeks to critique. To live within these systems, to participate in them, is to acknowledge the impossibility of fully escaping them. And yet, to choose to abstain, to reject these systems entirely, is not an act of purity, but a withdrawal into an idealized space that is equally constructed.

Thus, the challenge posed by our contemporary condition is not one of resistance alone. It is not simply a matter of choosing between digital freedom and digital servitude. The real question is what kind of subject is produced through the act of resistance, and whether this resistance – no matter how well-intentioned – might not merely reproduce the very conditions of digital serfdom it seeks to overthrow. The individual is perpetually trapped in this dialectic: to resist is to engage, to engage is to become part of the very systems one seeks to escape.

This ceaseless engagement (or circularity) with the structures of power, reveals the limits of individual autonomy in the digital age. In striving for privacy, for freedom from surveillance, we are not simply reclaiming agency; we are negotiating with a system of power that has already shaped us in its image. The question, then, is not whether the system can be changed, but whether our very efforts to change it are themselves part of the system. In the end, the human experience – messy, imperfect, and constrained by external forces – remains the last bastion of freedom, though even this is subject to the unseen currents of power that shape our desires and actions.

A discourse inspired by Foucault's: I. Discipline and Punish (1975) – highly recommended && II. The History of Sexuality, Volume I (1976)