Digital Me: Why I am more than just my data

On digital avatars, AI at the customer interface, and the dangerous conflation of knowledge with identity

For some time now, the term ‘Digital Me’ has kept cropping up in conversations with my IT colleagues. At first, I found it particularly jarring, as it sounds as though this digital avatar is actually a part of me. As if, alongside my real self, there were a sort of digital alter ego that describes, represents or perhaps even replaces me.

This is precisely where the problem begins for me: language is not neutral. Terms shape the way we think about technology. And when data, AI systems or digital interfaces are suddenly linked to a “Me”, the impression quickly arises that it is no longer just about information, processes or tools, but about identity.

So is this just another buzzword on the horizon? Or is there more to it?

So I started by Googling it. Wikipedia understandably recommends considering this versatile term only within its specific context. In my discussion with colleagues, two meanings could apply: on the one hand, a project that bundles personal data at a central, user-controlled access point [1]; on the other, an AI bot for businesses that acts as a digital interface to the customer. [2]

Both uses differ significantly. What they have in common, however, is that through the term ‘Digital Me’ they suggest more than mere technology. In one instance, the impression is created that you are what your data reveals about you. In the other case, it seems as though a bot could know a company so well that it almost becomes its digital identity.

It is precisely this linguistic shift that I find problematic, because people, organisations and their systems are more complex than data sets, processes and interfaces.

I am more than just my data

First of all: I am a champion of digitalisation. I believe that, in 2026, it is high time that our vast amounts of data in the public domain were finally interconnected in such a way that we can manage it efficiently and effectively. And I welcome the idea that I retain control over it. I therefore share the objectives of the Regensburg-based Digital.Me project. [1]

At the same time, however, I am highly critical of the chosen project name. To linguistically transform my aggregated data into a part of my personality goes too far, in my view.

Well-chosen project names say a lot about a team’s attitude and values. The team can and should identify with them. They foster a sense of unity within the team and signal to the outside world what the team stands for. Here, however, a value is being promoted that makes digitised data a component of my person, of my ‘Me’. Interestingly, this is also a component that I can control.

How quickly does that inner door open, allowing us to identify with our digital self? Surely we would rather identify with our self-controlled, real-world data than with our human unconscious and its uncomfortable shadows.

That may sound far-fetched. But we know from the gaming industry that the apparent controllability of technology accounts for a large part of its appeal. And we also know the consequence: people sometimes prefer to engage with games rather than with uncomfortable encounters with living beings.

That is precisely why we should be cautious when data, digital representations or AI systems become, linguistically speaking, a part of the human being. Data can say a lot about me. But it is not me.

Human-free IT at the customer interface: the example of an energy supplier

I think we all share a certain aversion to AI bots that bombard us with questions whilst we’re on hold – questions that neither relate to our enquiry nor reach the agent who eventually ends up dealing with us.

How appealing, by contrast, is an AI bot that acts with genuine competence at the customer interface and even assists with employee onboarding. A bot that captures and encompasses the company’s knowledge. Not yet fully, but with the expectation that it will soon be able to do so 100 per cent. Not least, its name also contributes to this expectation.

The AI bot acts, so to speak, as the company’s foreign minister. Its staff are the human colleagues. This is not mere speculation, as similar IT solutions already exist.

I am currently experiencing something like this with an energy supplier in Brandenburg. After the registration of my solar panel system simply failed to happen for two years, I am now facing difficulties in transferring this system to the buyers of my former home. Despite the error made at the time, my subsequent registration as the operator cannot be backdated to the actual date. It was almost a miracle that it was possible at all.

Consequently, the change of operator to the buyers of my house cannot be properly registered, because according to the IT system, I wasn’t even the operator at the time of the sale. Unfortunately, the energy supplier has reduced any form of human contact to a minimum. The customer support staff have neither email addresses nor telephone numbers. This makes it almost impossible for me, as a customer, to contact them directly. Even within the company, contact between staff is established via IT. Colleagues apparently do not always know themselves who is responsible for what or how they can reach them.

The company is lucky: at some point, a customer service representative turned up who looks after me, escalates issues, doesn’t give up and calls me every four weeks to keep me updated. In my view, she is a sort of corporate hero. Without her, I would have already taken legal action.

So it can be quite critical for a business when IT holds all the knowledge and controls the processes, and people are only brought in when necessary. In the case described, it is probably not immediately critical because the provider has a monopoly in Brandenburg.

And how much less likely is an AI to involve people if it claims to be the company’s ‘Digital Me’?

Knowledge is more than just stored information

Alongside the familiar textbook knowledge – or, more broadly speaking, the scientifically grounded knowledge that AI is probably already far better at storing than any of us – experiential knowledge plays a vital role in our actions. This is particularly true when it comes to unforeseeable situations. And it certainly feels as though such unforeseeable situations are becoming more common. [3]

When it comes to experiential knowledge, embodied intuition plays a key role. We link experiences to physical sensations. It is precisely this component that AI lacks. Or have you ever seen an AI that gets goosebumps?

This is precisely why we should take a closer look at two points:

• AI lacks intuition.
• We are allowing AI to gather important experiences that we ourselves would need for our own actions.

If we take the concept of the ‘Me’ seriously, it follows logically that AI should now gather experiences for itself. In terms of its performance, this is indeed the intention. Unfortunately, however, far less thought is given to how we can feed AI’s experiences back to humans in order to train the necessary intuition.

In doing so, we are neglecting the importance of embodied intuition, that ‘right instinct’, in AI. And we overlook the fact that human action consists not only of retrievable knowledge, but of experience, physicality, context and intuition. [4]

‘Me’ is, after all, more than just rational-cognitive knowledge with an ever-growing store of information.

Conclusion

Unfortunately, the points I have made above are not some far-fetched fantasy. They are far more real than we often realise in our everyday lives. The philosophy behind parts of the tech industry has long been contemplating hybrid beings or a kind of superintelligence that, thanks to its supposedly perfect design, is said to far surpass humans. Scientifically, this is difficult to sustain. This makes the marketing aspect all the more important when it comes to securing funding or shaping the political landscape. [5]

Against this backdrop, the term ‘Digital Me’ is a small but certainly relevant step towards influencing our thinking in this direction. For it sounds harmless, modern and accessible. At the same time, however, it blurs the line between humans, data and machines.

I advocate for AI that supports experts rather than seeing itself as an expert. AI is created by humans. Humans determine how it is trained, what goals it pursues and what role it assumes within organisations.

But if we linguistically assign an identity to AI – something that is actually only possessed by living beings – then it will also present itself in this sense. And we will probably be more willing to allow that.

In our language-oriented culture, labels are an important aspect of identity. We should exercise greater care here. Even – and especially – if the term ‘Digital-Me’ certainly sounds appealing in marketing circles, it nevertheless suggests capabilities that the machine behind it neither has nor should have.

A Digital-Me can collect data, store knowledge and map processes. But it is not a ‘me’. And it should not pretend to be one either.

Notes (partly in German):

[1] The EU FP7 funded project Digital.Me aims at integrating all personal data in a personal sphere by a single, user-controlled point of access
[2] My Digital-Me as an AI bot for businesses
[3] Fritz Boehle: Erfahrungswissen – die ‘andere’ Seite professionellen Handelns
[4] Artificial intelligence (AI) for everyone?
[5] Rainer Muehlhoff: Kuenstliche Intelligenz und der neue Faschismus

On coping with uncertainty and the relevance of perceived security, see ‘What we can learn from starship Enterprise’ and Smartpedia: Uncertainty.

Would you like to discuss ‘Digital Me’ as an opinion leader or thought leader? Then please feel free to share this post within your network.

Astrid Kuhlmey has published more posts on the t2informatik Blog, including: