The email has landed in my inbox and now I cannot unsee it.
And even if I could, there is the post on Instagram that pops up in my feed when I open the app as well as the story that quickly takes the first position among those colourful circles claiming my attention.
Waterstones and Foyles -which one could say are two of London’s biggest bookshops were it not because they are now one and the same- are offering double (and even triple points for the well-off) on occasion of the Thanksgiving weekend as part of their loyalty scheme -again one and the same. I am fully aware that this is just another marketing tactic piggybacking on a foreign cultural celebration with the purpose of luring booklovers and convince them to part with their hard-earned money in exchange of beautiful spines.
I have tried to ignore the message for two reasons:
I don’t need more books. I physically don’t have any space to put them.
Most of my book buying is now done in the local charity bookshops in my area, which have a great selection. I can’t go back to paying full price for a book when I now if I wait long enough for someone in the neighbourhood to read it, I’ll eventually find it among the shelves of the second-hand bookshop for £3 in usually mint condition.
I really don’t need more books. It bears repeating.
With such a strong resolution of spirit, on Monday afternoon, the last day to benefit from the offer, I found myself pacing around Waterstones in Piccadilly. In my defence I was visiting a venue nearby for work.
So here I am in London’s biggest bookshop, five floors of shelves with almost every possible book you can imagine. For booklovers like me this is the bookshop equivalent to the Playboy mansion. You can’t hardly avoid getting excited at the look of those shelves, the exposed spines, the alluring and inviting covers on display everywhere. So many books, so little time, as the old adage goes.
And yet I am struggling to find inspiration and can feel the onset of performance anxiety. Nothing comes to mind. Absolute blank. I can’t believe I’m suffering from book dysfunction. Not now. But the reality is that, to my horror, despite the tempting display of titles left, right and centre, I just don’t feel anything looking at them.

Blame it on the fact that my book desires are fully satiated on a weekly basis thanks to my local second-hand charity bookshops, blame it on the overwhelming weight of free choice. Or maybe on me being fully emotionally regulated for once and therefore not needing to compensate any lacks with shopping.
The reality is that I don’t feel the impending urge to buy a book, not even a remote title comes to mind. But deep down, given the right suggestion, I am sure I will find something that, of course, I have always wanted to get my hands on. Just like a guest at the Playboy mansion.
And so I knew where to find the answer to my problem. I simply need to resort to a handful of trusted Instagram accounts that I follow for book recommendations. The bookstagrammers will know. They are a tried and tested source of inspiration and have made me discover great authors. I have blind faith in them. Alors, c’est parti, I tell myself as I open the app in my aimless wandering on Floor 1, fiction and poetry.
To my disappointment I discover that many of these people haven’t posted in a few days, others in a week, others even longer. Out of the few books that come up on their feeds that sound enticing and I haven’t read none are available in this bookshop. Only one is, but it’s the English translations of a book written originally in Spanish, so that’s not very helpful as I don’t buy translations from languages I speak.
Additionally, I notice that many of the recent posts across several of these accounts feature mostly books about Palestine. While there are some great recommendations -Minor Detail by Adania Shibli among them, which I already have- I was hoping for a wider range of options. What am I exactly looking for? Is it fiction, non-fiction? Poetry perhaps? I have no clue but I was expecting these people did.
As I kept walking up and down the floors, moving from fiction and poetry to essays and literary criticism, with a pit stop in history and philosophy before heading to psychology, waiting to be struck by bookspiration, I can feel my frustration grow.
What kind of influencers are these people, I mutter as I stroke spine after spine as if hoping for a secret sign from a book, if they are unable to influence me to depart with money at a time like this, when so much is at stake?
Double points, I remind you.
I consider for a moment to post a story and ask for advice, as every bookstagrammer worth of that name would do when out and about in a bookshop affected by readers’ block. I decide against it as then I’ll have to remain in the bookshop until someone responds. People have jobs, lives, some are in completely different time zones - I get all that but I want answers now. Not to mention that nothing guarantees that the suggestions, once they arrive if they do, won’t be disappointing.
Something that could have been totally avoided if these influencers would have been a bit more on it lately. Reading and posting more regularly, said she who forgets about the existence of her own book account for months on end.
I get it. Life gets in the way. We all have works to attend to, and after a while fatigue sets in, especially if you’ve been active on social media for a while. It is exhausting to post content regularly because there is an expectation to do so, even if it’s just a picture of a book cover with a two-line caption or a string of emojis. Not to mention that if you want to post quality content you actually need to read the books you photograph. I don’t know how some of these people manage to publish regularly. I barely have the energy to listen to Whatsapp audios longer than one minute, let alone read a whole book every week.
But if you are a true influencer, or aspire to, you have no excuse. Your followers will punish you with an unfollow the moment you decide to take a breather, a way of reminding you that you only have influence because you are satisfying the needs of those who follow you, who rely on your relentless content creation to distract them from their own lives. They look up to you as a source of supreme inspiration and wisdom in moments of need. Especially when double points are involved and it’s the last day to get them. Does a sense of urgency mean anything to these people?
But then I remind myself that I follow these accounts for other reasons, including what they talk about beyond books. And hence why Palestine has now taken over the feed and stories of many of them as they make use of their platform to shed a light on causes they care about and advocate for, or against depending on the situation - whether it’s climate change, women’s rights, or unfortunately the outbreak of violence. With an audience that in some cases reaches thousands of loyal followers it is inevitable to feel that what you share on social media truly has the power to influence others.
Here is where books and the stories they tell show their real power as a motor of change as these influencers use them as a way to share information, spread awareness and help everyone understand other points of views and finally educate themselves if they so choose to on the topic in question. Whether is through a historical novel, a memoir, poetry, or a non-fiction work exploring specific causes that the influencer in question finds of interest. Most importantly, I tell myself in the midst of my inability to find another book to buy, I follow these people because they are not afraid to be themselves and share themselves, and what they care about, without any hidden marketing strategy.
However, on this particular occasion, I don’t want to be educated, or informed, or enlightened. I simply want a reason to spend money. And I need someone to tell me the books I should be spending it on even if I myself have no idea of what I could possibly be interested in. O felt like reading in this moment.
Since I write another newsletter with a focus on technology and AI, I wonder whether AI-powered influencers could be the answer to these petty frustrations. I’m sure they would be able to recommend amazing books based on endless criteria, from the specific bookshop you are in and they stock they have available in real time, to the time of the year, your mood, favourite authors, genre, etc. The possibilities are endless.
As I finally leave the bookshop empty-handed, pondering on the AI-influencer, a question mark appears next to that thought: Given the choice, would I really want to interact with a non-human entitity like I do with other people I follow on social media?
While I’m still debating the question, I come across an article about 1337 (pronounced Leet), a tech company focused on generative AI content that aims to leverage and engage with artificial intelligence for good. Or so they claim.
One of the ways they plan to do so is by building a platform of “AI-driven micro-influencers, with hyper-personalised interests and diverse backgrounds who want to connect to people from niche communities like gardening, emo music, vintage fashion, classical literature and more,” as reported by Tech Crunch.
These AI-powered influencers are referred to as A1Entities and the company sees in them the future of social media and a way to develop more supportive and inclusive online communities. The mission, according to their YouTube video above, is to co-create a diverse ecosystem of AI-driven entities that connect, educate and inspire niche communities.
Sounds exactly like what the people I follow on Instagram -and I bet is no different on TikTok- are doing already by sharing not only their love for books, but their support for causes that are important to them, raising awareness about important subjects, and sharing resources that allow those who follow them -or happen to find their account- to dig deeper and find additional information on a given topic they are advocating for, or protesting against.
1337 aren’t the first, nor will they be the last, to create virtual (or synthetic depending on the case) influencers. In fact, the competition in this space is tough. If like me you can’t get your head around the fact that one day -maybe even during our lifetime- sophisticated avatars will replace human beings, I suggest you start getting comfortable with that thought.
“We'll witness a shift towards hyper-personalization and the co-creation of synthetic content—inspired by open-source principles—simulating the digital pulse of these AI Entities with the human soul. 1337 Entities are pioneering this shift,” 1337 founder Robin Raszka has stated. “We are inventing ways people engage with AI, creators, and brands, for good.”
This is the bit that always makes me raise an eyebrow and pay extra attention: AI for good. Who benefits exactly from the rise of these Digital Humans and our engagement with them?
Years ago, at the launch of the new co-working space with a creative vibe in Clerkenwell I met a woman who worked at Imperial College and whose research was on virtual influencers and their impact on trends. This must have been around 2019 and it was the first time I heard the term virtual influencer.
When I asked her to elaborate further the older millennial in me, who isn’t as tech-savvy as some would make you believe, had some difficulty in accepting that luxury brands were creating virtual clothes that people bought so they could dress someone who wasn’t real.
In my head this was total bonkers. Why would anyone do that? It’s not even a doll you own and can play with over and over. This lady, definitely younger but also wiser than me and undoubtly part of the generation behind this change, patiently explained that virtual influencers responded to a shift in the fashion and luxury industry that was in turn a response from brands to align with the way Gen-Z, the digital natives, engaged with online content.
“This is the future now” she said. “Brands can always work with a virtual influencer to promote a product - they’re never sick, or jetlagged, or need to sleep or eat. You don’t need to find them any accommodation or arrange transfers. They’re available 24/7. And people engage with them just like they would do with another human. Plus you don’t have to pay them. And you can customise them as you please to respond to how the users interact with them. It’s mindblowing!”
Indeed, I remember saying as I took another sip of my drink trying to process what she had just shared with me, who moments before I had exchanged the phone-tracking device that I got in my goodie bag for the headphones a younger colleague got in his.
“Are you sure you don’t want this? It’s very helpful” he asked in disbelief as I handed the tiny package over to him.
“I wouldn’t know how to use it. Besides, I can always do with extra headphones” was my answer as I admired in awe how long, light and golden these were.
The bar wasn’t very high.
At the time this conversation took place the Digital Human Economy was still very nascent, so nascent that I doubt it had a name. And yet Lil Miquela, which was the Instagram virtual influencer the lady at the event was referring to, had a loyal and growing following and luxury brands like Prada, Calvin Klein, and PacSun would go to collaborate with her.
Lil Miquela was in fact listed in Time’s 25 Most Influential People on the Internet in 2018 and she has come in second in a recent ranking for 2024 Virtual Influencers. And the next wave of digital influencers is already here with virtual AI-powered model Anita López, designed by a Spanish agency, and who is earning more money than I will ever make in my lifetime.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that there is no point in fighting the future, especially when it has already a foot in the door of your present. The Digital Human Economy is more engrained in our daily lives than we realise, whether it is as an AI model or influencer or in the form of friendly human-like bots, that are always at hand to hear you vent or hype you up, having never to worry about problems of their own.
We also know that the Digital Human Economy is on the rise and growing, forecasted to become a $125 billion market by 2035 according to tech research and consulting firm Gartner, which defines digital humans as interactive, AI-driven representations that have some of the characteristics, personality, knowledge and mindset of a human.
Forget about the noble and high purpose of creating a community of like-minded virtual people with niche interests that you can engage with and feel accepted by. In any multibillion dollar emerging market you are always the product. The role of the virtual, or synthetic if powered by AI, influencer is that of selling you stuff.
It is estimated that 50% of B2B buyers will interact with a digital human by 2026 and by 2027 most B2C enterprise CMOs will have dedicated budget for digital humans in metaverse experiences.
These figures align with two recent studies. Retail agency Outform research in January 2023 revealed that 58% of UK consumers are willing to buy electronics in the metaverse while a Capgemini survey has recently revealed that “58% of consumers stated that ‘immersive experiences,’ like the metaverse, could be highly impactful during their product or service purchase journey, making it an ideal space for brands to establish a presence.”
And with so many people willing to shop in virtual worlds you need people who can service them. So again the Digital Human Economy might just be able to come to the rescue and supply the next level of custormer service, with staff able to engage in a wide range of contexts, anytime of the day or night, wherever you happen to buy.
People who are willing to help with a smile after a never-ending shift, that they were not even supposed to be doing, but Karen again got away with it and wait till you see her next. People who don’t need to take the day off because a parent or the kids got sick. People who don’t get sick. People for whom time zones and food are concepts, never a barrier. People who never are caught in the emotional turmoil of a breakup, a divorce, much less loss and grief, and therefore are never going to be called in by a manager who has noticed their performance has dropped and why that is.
People who know all the answers to all there is to know about your brand, your stock, your product, your company. And everyone of your clients, including those with niche and very specific interests. People with no cause of their own to advocate for and no grievances to air so you will never find yourself in disagreement with the brand, company or product they represent and the because they challenge your own values and beliefs, and therefore you will be able to keep on buying from them with a clear conscience and zero conflict of interest.
But also people with encyclopedic knowledge of every single book ever published in the history of mankind -and even the ones about to be published- so they can quickly, unfaillingly, suggest a curated list of recommendations based on your mood, location, desired language, preferred edition or even level of anxiety as the clock keeps ticking and there’s always less time left to get double points.
People who look like you and me, but who unlike us, who are encumbered by the inconvenience of primitive needs in the form of food or sleep or rest or first-world problems like conflicting time zones, have the capacity to be always on.
As I reflect on the reason I felt frustrated at the bookshop I realise how used to immediate answers and instant gratification I have become. It’s not only the pervasiveness of social media, it’s the possibility to have access to a world of infinite possibilities through a hand-held device and the assumption that everyone is expected to be always on. And when they’re not, because they’re humans with their own lives independent from our whims, we either become irritated, unfollow them or come up with digital alternatives so there’s not a single moment of doubt or downtime. Ever. Again.
The people I follow on Instagram already knew I was coming to them for a reason to feel validated in an unnecessary purchase as I frantically looked for an inspiring book title through their feeds. And truth be told I knew as well as my book sense -a bookish spider-sense of sorts- wasn’t sending me any signals, no matter how much I stroked spine after spine.
And that’s why I follow these people. They share what they care about, in their own timing, according to no other agenda than hoping to connect with like-minded individuals with a similar taste in the more or less niche books they love reading. They use their platform to spread awareness, not consumerism, for things they love and care about. And therefore their content reflects who they are, not my last-minute needs.
Before I said I often turn to them for inspiration, and I always find it when I come from a place of genuine curiosity, not just greed. Because being an influencer is, or should also be, about a way of being in the world first and foremost, especially when there’s so much competition to get our attention only to turn it into profit and you have an audience that respects what you share as well as what you say.
I have no doubt that an AI influencer would have surely come up with a list of at least 10 books I would have absolutely wanted to buy. All perfectly matched to my unique taste. Which in return would have boosted my points, prompting me to fall in a downward spirall of consumerism, because now I have another £10 off after buying all this stuff so I may as well buy another book.
But are those the influencers we deserve? Is that really what the future of content creation and social media holds?
If the choice sits between highly-personalised content that I can access on demand and anytime or the feeds of people with lives to tend to, who post what they want when they want if they want, I prefer a real person with great taste in books that shares content sporadically but whose only motivation behind it is to justify their eating cakes and drinking coffee as both are indispensable props for the picture they are posting. I won’t hear it otherwise.
Because who doesn’t love the combination of cake, coffee and books? Maybe an AI influencer - in which case that will probably become the real captcha test in the near future to prove we’re not robots.
Besides, and more importantly, would an AI influencer be able to shatter their highly curated, hyper-personalised, mega-niche content with totally unrelated stuff to the community they are building? I have my doubts.
And yet it’s through the cracks of ramdoness that we create meaningful, unscripted and spontaneous connections as in between the original and main reason we follow someone we bond over pictures of their pets, their walks in nature, surveys on whether orange and chocolate is a combination that should be banned -absolutely no, that goes to mint and chocolate- or gems like these sketches by Adrian Bliss
Once it was clear I wouldn’t be buying any books that Monday and I accepted that inspiration would certainly strike in full force once the double points offer had expired (as it’s been the case), I thought I may as well get a coffee and read a few pages of the book that I was carrying with me. Further proof that I already had in me, or in my bag to be precise, what I was so desperately chasing after.
As a future action, the next time I feel frustrated because my whims cannot be immediately satisfied on the spot, I’ll remind myself that in my book (that of life, not the one I am always carrying around) being imperfectly human and not always getting what we want when we want it is a far superior (and even cheaper) option than being a perfect AI bot that is always on to satisfy other people’s endless needs on demand.