Planet-app: From Psycho to Neuropower. An Analysis of the Link Between Artificial Intelligence and Everyday Life

We live in a world where the invisible has become the most tangible force in our daily lives. For decades, we understood power in terms of physical bodies and large groups of people. Governments and institutions managed populations by tracking birth rates, health statistics, and the general behavior of crowds. This approach, known as biopolitics, treated people as part of a collective whole to be optimized for the good of the state. More recently, as our attention and emotions became the new currency of the digital age, scholars began to describe a shift toward psychopolitics. Here, the focus moved from the body to the mind, where algorithms and platforms try to shape our desires, memories, and feelings to keep us engaged and consuming. But a new layer of reality is emerging beneath these older models. As our devices become smarter and more integrated into our biology, the question arises: are we being managed not just as bodies or as minds, but as nervous systems that can be rewired?

This question drives a new study by researchers Francisco Tirado, Sergi Parellada, and Enrique Baleriola from the Autonomous University of Barcelona. They set out to understand how small applications, or "apps," on our phones and computers are changing the way we live and how we are controlled. These researchers did not rely on abstract theories alone; they conducted a deep, personal investigation into the apps we use every day, particularly those focused on health, fitness, and mental training. By recording their own experiences and analyzing how these tools function, they discovered that apps are not just passive tools we use. Instead, they act as active mediators that link our daily actions to vast, hidden networks of data. The study suggests that through this connection, a new form of power has emerged, which the authors call "neuropower." This is a system that does not just watch us or influence our thoughts, but actively shapes the plasticity of our nervous systems, training us to constantly optimize ourselves for a future that never quite arrives.

To understand what these researchers found, one must first look at what an app actually is. In everyday language, an app is a small icon on a screen that we tap to perform a task. But for these scientists, an app is much more than a digital button. It is a bridge between our physical reality and a hidden world of digital information. When we use an app, we are not just pressing a button; we are connecting our immediate actions to a massive cloud of data that processes our location, our preferences, and our habits. The researchers found that these apps operate on three main principles that fundamentally alter our relationship with reality. First, they create an "augmented reality." Just as a microscope reveals details invisible to the naked eye, an app reveals hidden layers of information about the world around us. For example, a health app can scan a food label and instantly tell a user about allergens or nutritional content, adding a layer of health data to the simple act of buying groceries. This turns a normal shopping trip into a complex decision-making process guided by the app.

Second, these apps build detailed profiles of us, but not in the way we might think. They do not simply categorize us as "men" or "women," or "young" or "old." Instead, they break us down into fragments of data—our heart rate, our sleep patterns, our typing speed, or our music choices. The researchers describe this fragmented self as a "dividual." An app takes these scattered pieces of information and recombines them to create a unique profile that is constantly updated. This profile is not a static picture of who we are; it is a dynamic map of our behavior that the app uses to predict what we will do next. When a fitness app tells you to run faster because your heart rate is lower than average for your age group, it is not judging your character; it is reacting to a specific data point in your profile. This process turns our identity into a collection of adjustable variables that can be optimized.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, these apps operate on a "weak ethical principle." Unlike a strict rule imposed by a government or a doctor, an app does not force you to do anything. It suggests, encourages, and guides. It tells you that you could eat better, sleep more, or train harder, but it leaves the final decision to you. This creates a powerful illusion of freedom. You feel like you are making your own choices to improve your life, but the path you are walking is entirely designed by the app. The researchers argue that this subtle guidance is more effective than force because it makes you want to optimize yourself. You begin to see your own life as a project that needs constant improvement, and you turn to the app to tell you how to do it.

The researchers focused heavily on health-related apps, such as those that track physical activity, monitor sleep, or train the brain. They found that these tools have accelerated a shift away from managing populations as a whole. In the past, public health measures were designed for the average person. Today, apps focus entirely on the individual. They do not care about the population; they care about your specific heart rate, your specific calorie intake, and your specific sleep cycle. This shift means that the old concept of a "population" is becoming less relevant. Instead, we are being managed as unique collections of data points, each one constantly being adjusted to fit a perfect, idealized version of ourselves.

This leads to the study's most significant finding: the emergence of neuropower. The researchers suggest that while we have moved from managing bodies to managing minds, we are now entering an era where the nervous system itself is the target. Apps, powered by artificial intelligence, are designed to interact with the plasticity of our brains. Plasticity refers to the brain's ability to change and adapt based on experience. Apps exploit this by creating habits and patterns of thought that become deeply embedded in our nervous systems. When you check your fitness tracker every morning, or when you let an app decide which news story to read, you are not just performing a task. You are training your brain to respond to specific cues and to expect certain types of feedback.

The researchers explain that this form of power works by creating "marks" or traces in the nervous system. These marks are formed through repetition and the constant flow of data. An app might encourage you to walk ten thousand steps a day, not because it is medically necessary for everyone, but because it creates a routine that your brain learns to follow. Over time, this routine becomes part of your identity. You feel incomplete without the data, and you feel a sense of accomplishment only when the app confirms your progress. This is neuropower in action: it does not just tell you what to do; it changes how your brain works so that you want to do it. The goal is not just to make you healthier or more productive, but to make your nervous system align with the logic of the app.

The study also highlights a paradox in this new system. While apps seem to give us more control over our lives, they actually make us more dependent on them. The researchers found that we have come to rely on these tools to understand our own bodies and minds. Without an app to track our sleep or our mood, we often feel lost or unable to make sense of our own experiences. We have handed over the authority of our self-knowledge to the algorithm. This creates a situation where we are constantly looking to the future, trying to optimize ourselves for a version of ourselves that does not yet exist. The app tells us that we can be better, faster, and smarter, but it also ensures that we are never satisfied with who we are right now.

The researchers are careful to note that this does not mean apps are evil or that they are the only force at work. They clarify that older forms of power, such as biopolitics and psychopolitics, still exist. However, they argue that neuropower is the new dominant force because it subsumes them. It does not just control our actions or our thoughts; it shapes the very hardware of our minds. The study suggests that this is a fundamental change in how society is organized. We are no longer just citizens or consumers; we are becoming biological machines that are constantly being tuned and adjusted by digital interfaces.

In their conclusion, the researchers emphasize that this is not a problem that can be solved by simply turning off our phones. The apps have become the "new skin of the world." They are the medium through which we experience reality, and they are woven into the fabric of our daily lives. To understand this new power, we must look beyond the screen and see the invisible connections that link our actions to vast corporate data centers. We must recognize that every time we tap an icon, we are participating in a system that is training our nervous systems to fit a specific pattern. The study does not offer a simple solution, but it provides a clear warning: if we do not understand how these apps are shaping our brains, we will continue to optimize ourselves for a future that is designed by someone else.

The work of Tirado, Parellada, and Baleriola invites us to look at our devices with fresh eyes. They ask us to consider that the small icons on our screens are not just tools, but active agents in a new form of social control. By studying how these apps work, they have revealed a hidden layer of power that operates through the plasticity of our nervous systems. This is neuropower, a force that is subtle, pervasive, and deeply personal. It does not shout or command; it whispers and suggests, guiding us toward a version of ourselves that is always just out of reach. As we move further into the digital age, understanding this new dynamic will be essential for anyone who wants to remain the master of their own mind.