Why Are We Defining Ourselves in Increasingly Granular Ways?

 


Why Are We Defining Ourselves in Increasingly Granular Ways?

Approaching forty, I've noticed that conversations with my friends don't feel quite the same as they used to. Recently, while chatting with friends over text, one of them mentioned they identify with "non-monogamy." Honestly, I had no idea what they were talking about at first. Another friend brought up "polyamory." I run a convenience store, working eleven-hour shifts, I'm married, and I have two sons. To me, these terms felt like a language from another world.

But beyond the initial confusion, I felt curious. Why were people my age suddenly talking about these concepts? During quiet moments at the store, I'd open my laptop and start researching this phenomenon. Like falling down a rabbit hole, I discovered an increasingly deep world. Non-monogamy and polyamory were just the beginning. From terms about sexual orientation like "demisexual" and "graysexual" to "therians"—people who identify as having animal souls—I initially thought these were fringe communities existing only in obscure corners of the internet.

But the deeper I dug, the more I realized this wasn't just an internet meme or a passing trend. Especially among younger generations, this "microlabeling" culture was spreading rapidly. Looking at TikTok or Instagram profiles, you'd see five or six labels describing someone, listed one after another. Seeing this phenomenon, I wondered: Why do modern people feel the need to define themselves so precisely? And what does this mean for our society?

Tracing the Origins of Labeling

Sitting at the convenience store counter, continuing my search, I learned that this culture has deeper roots than I expected. This trend began in early 2000s English-speaking online communities, first taking shape on sites like AVEN (Asexual Visibility and Education Network). Initially, the asexual community, which wasn't recognized by mainstream society, began sharing their experiences and naming them.

This makes sense. Language gives form to experience. The moment you name your feelings or tendencies, they transform from abstract discomfort into clear identity. It's a shift from "Am I the only one who's weird?" to "There are others like me." This is what the early asexual community did. They proved their existence and found each other.

The problem came after. Through Tumblr, Reddit, and more recently TikTok, these labels exploded. Demisexual (sexual attraction only after emotional bonding), graysexual (rare sexual attraction), sapiosexual (attraction to intelligence), fraysexual (sexual attraction decreases with intimacy)... At first, these words had an oddly Japanese feel to them. There was something strangely "kawaii" about their sound. It turns out these were English neologisms combining Latin and Greek roots, intentionally borrowing the style of "cute coinages" from Japanese subculture. Interestingly, in Japan itself, these terms only began spreading around 2018, reverse-imported from English-speaking communities.

People Who Want to Be Animals

That's when I discovered the therian community. At first, I thought I'd misread something. People claiming to be "animal souls trapped in human bodies"? Wondering if this was truly a modern phenomenon, I dug deeper. Searching through Reddit and old Tumblr archives, I found they were serious. Hundreds of posts testified to feeling like wolves or foxes since early childhood, urges to walk on all fours, confessions that human language felt unnatural.

But sitting in the convenience store reading these posts, I felt a strange contradiction. If you truly are inherently an animal, why explain it in human language, on human-made SNS platforms, seemingly seeking human validation? Wolves don't try to prove they're wolves. They just are.

Of course, some of this might relate to neurodiversity. Some people on the autism spectrum struggle to understand implicit social rules and might feel more comfortable with animals' intuitive communication styles. This can be explained by differences in cognitive processing. But in most cases, this seemed like a psychological and cultural phenomenon.

And this isn't actually humanity's first encounter with such ideas. Ancient Gnosticism viewed the material world as imperfect and the body as a prison for the soul. Medieval Europe recorded lycanthropy—people claiming to transform into wolves. In the 19th century, Nietzsche proposed the concept of the "Übermensch," transcending humanity. The human desire to feel uncomfortable with their humanity and want to become something else has always existed.

The difference is that in the past, this was classified as philosophical contemplation, religious metaphor, or mental illness. In the early 2000s, when my generation was going through puberty, we had our own version of this—what we might call "eighth-grader syndrome." Declarations like "I'm a man with the heart of a wolf" or "the power of darkness sleeps within me." Looking back, it seems childish, but it was temporary fantasy that naturally faded after adolescence. It was a rite of passage, in a way.

But modern therians are different. They solidify this into a permanent identity. And social media reinforces it. Algorithms continuously recommend similar content, creating an echo chamber where you only see people like yourself. The moment you move from "I'm not the only one" to "this is truly who I am," it transitions from temporary identity to core identity.

The Age of Classification, The Death of Possibility

Watching customers every day at the convenience store, I notice something. People increasingly want to categorize themselves. "I'm Type A," "I'm inclined toward B," "I belong to label C." This provides safety. Knowing your position is comfortable. You don't have to wonder where you're going.

But simultaneously, this represents the death of possibility. Humans used to be "dreamers." We made the impossible real. We wanted to fly, so we built airplanes. We wanted to reach the moon, so we launched rockets. But now we're becoming "categorizers." The moment you define yourself as "this kind of person," possibilities outside that framework become invisible.

It's like the shift from manga where Luffy holds up his straw hat shouting "I'll become the Pirate King!" to today's manga where characters swing chainsaws wondering whether they're demons or humans.

Why did this change happen? Sitting at the convenience store counter, several reasons come to mind.

First, society has become too complex. In the past, there were fewer options. Only a few careers existed, and ways of living were relatively simple. But modern society offers infinite choices. Paradoxically, this freedom breeds anxiety. It's what psychology calls the "paradox of choice." Too many options lead to decision paralysis and regret. So people seek labels. They want guidelines saying "I'm this kind of person, so I should make these choices."

Second, capitalist commodification. Microlabeling is perfect prey for the market. Each label gets dedicated products. Demisexual pride flags, therian-specific accessories, "neurospicy" t-shirts. Identity becomes commodity, and purchasing commodities confirms identity. Capitalism is genius at converting difference into profit.

Third, the psychology of seeking safety. Modern society is uncertain. Economic crises, pandemics, climate change. The more anxious the future, the more people want to grasp something certain. Clearly defining your identity is like dropping anchor in chaos. "At least I know who I am" provides comfort.

The Algorithm as Accomplice

But behind all of this lies the algorithm. I feel the power of algorithms through my investing and blogging. The reason my English blog does over 60 times better than my Korean blog ultimately comes down to algorithms. Google's AI recommends my content more.

Social media algorithms are the primary accomplice in microlabeling culture. TikTok's "For You Page" endlessly shows you content similar to what you've watched once. Watch one video about demisexuality, and next comes graysexual, then sapiosexual... falling deeper into the algorithmic world. The algorithm offers you a journey of "discovering your new self." At each stage, it orchestrates a moment of realization: "Ah, this is who I really am!"

And platforms profit from this. The longer users stay, the more ads they see. The journey of seeking labels is addictive. Infinite scrolling in the name of self-discovery. While pretending to "respect individuals," algorithms actually convert you into data points and monetize you.

Going further, this phenomenon affects social structure. In the past, large collective structures like family, ethnicity, and religion provided people with stability. When problems arose, the collective protected you. But microlabeling dismantles these large frameworks. People fragment into increasingly smaller identity groups.

On the surface, it looks like respecting diversity. But excessive fragmentation narrows common ground. How can people with 100 different labels cooperate for common interests? When everyone insists on "my unique situation," finding universal solutions becomes difficult. This leads to weakened collective action and ultimately makes building social safety nets harder.

There's also an interesting political dimension. As labels proliferate, each group needs tailored policies. This leads to expanded government roles. Historically, "small government" presupposed universal rules. But modern trends demand "big government." Managing thousands of different identity groups requires enormous administrative resources. Regulations become complex, bureaucracy becomes bloated.

The Paradox of the Declining Population Era

Add to this the variable of population decline. According to UN projections, world population will peak in 2084 and then decrease. Korea is already at the forefront of this trend. Most developed countries face low birth rates and aging populations, and even population giants like China and India are expected to transition to decline between 2025-2050.

Here's the problem: As labeling culture spreads, big government becomes necessary, but population is shrinking. There's insufficient personnel to staff bureaucracies. There won't be enough people to maintain complex administrative systems.

This is where AI (artificial intelligence) comes into focus. Running the convenience store, I've felt this change recently. Unmanned checkout counters, automated inventory management, even AI-recommended ordering. Government administration will move in the same direction. AI will design tailored policies for each label, AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) will handle civil complaints, and algorithms will allocate resources.

China is leading in this direction. In 2024, they invested $9.3 billion in AI and $70 billion in data centers, securing global competitiveness. Their "AI+" strategy integrates AI into government systems. Even with population decline (1.39 million decrease in 2024), 1.4 billion people's data is sufficient for AI training. Of course, there are issues like privacy violations and algorithmic bias, but in terms of efficiency, the advantages are clear.

Where Are We Ultimately Headed?

Sitting at the convenience store counter organizing all these thoughts, the conclusion is complex. Microlabeling is neither good nor bad. It's just a phenomenon. Just one way humans adapt to a complex world.

Turning forty, I've realized something. The limits of dividing the world into binaries. Making judgments like "this is right and that is wrong" is a luxury only available when you're young. As you age, you learn that everything has two sides.

Labeling is the same. For some people, it's salvation. The moment you name feelings you couldn't explain your whole life, it becomes proof of existence. "I'm not weird. There are people like me." This is real comfort.

But simultaneously, it's a trap. The moment you cage yourself in a label, possibilities outside it become invisible. While running the convenience store, I also invest, write novels, and blog. If I'd been trapped in the label "I'm a convenience store owner," I never would have tried these other possibilities.

So I think: Labels should be tools. Temporary language to describe yourself, a translator for communicating with others. But not identity itself. Humans are too complex to be defined by a few words. We continuously change, we're contradictory, we're unpredictable. That's what being human is.

Even if future society runs on AI, ultimately what matters is people. Technology is just a tool. No matter how smart algorithms become, they can't fully understand the complex human interior. And I think that's fortunate.

Now, approaching forty, I no longer find it strange when my friends explore new labels. They're in the process of understanding themselves. But I want to tell them this: Labels are starting points, not destinations. Defining yourself is important, but transcending definitions is equally important.

Ultimately, life is experience, not classification. We are stories, not categories. And the most interesting stories are made when they exceed expectations.


References

This article was written with reference to the following sources:

Population Statistics and Future Projections

  • UN World Population Prospects 2024: https://population.un.org/wpp/
  • OECD Public Governance Reviews 2023: https://www.oecd.org/governance/

Microlabeling Culture and Online Communities

  • Asexual Visibility and Education Network (AVEN): https://www.asexuality.org/
  • Otherkin/Therian Community Archives (Reddit, Tumblr, 2015-2025)
  • International Journal of Transpersonal Studies: "Therian Identity Research" (2022)

Psychology and Mental Health

  • Pew Research Center: "Neurodiversity and Mental Health Trends" (2023): https://www.pewresearch.org/
  • Journal of Psychiatric Research: "Clinical Lycanthropy Studies" (2018)
  • American Sociological Review: "Labeling Theory" (1963, updated 2020)

Historical Background

  • Nag Hammadi Library: Gnosticism Historical Texts
  • Medieval lycanthropy documentation and historical records

Technology and Algorithm Impact

  • MIT Technology Review: "Social Media Algorithm Impact" (2024): https://www.technologyreview.com/
  • Nature Communications: "Echo Chamber Effects" (2021): https://www.nature.com/ncomms/
  • CB Insights: "China AI Investment Report" (2024): https://www.cbinsights.com/

Government and Social Structure

  • National Bureau of Statistics of China (2024): http://www.stats.gov.cn/english/
  • World Artificial Intelligence Conference 2025 Proceedings

Psychology of Choice

  • Barry Schwartz, "The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less" (2004)


Comments