Voice of Real Australia is a regular newsletter from ACM, which has journalists in every state and territory. Today's is written by ACM supervising producer Emma Horn.
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Let's talk about fertility. Specifically, my fertility.
Even just typing that has my hands shaking. I tend to prefer if the private details of my life remain... well, private... which might strike as an odd statement coming from someone who has chosen to pursue a journalism career.
Yet, ever since I turned 30, the topic of fertility has become a favourite for discussion by everyone, except for me. The whispered discussion of my personal life choices. A single girl in her 30s with no prospect of children. Everyone has an opinion on it. Except for me.
And the topic seems to be of the highest concern to the people who know me the least.
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Something happened in the deep dark world of my social media algorithm, seemingly overnight when I turned 30. There was a shift in content.
The ads being served to me drastically changed, almost immediately. No longer was I seeing carefree curations of advertising promoting travel deals, fashion brands, tech gadgets, and the occasional dating service.
Now I was being served an array of panicked fertility content. Pregnancy tests, egg freezing services, IVF options. All of a sudden, women's health dominated my newsfeed!
I started taking a screenshot of the ads as they appeared to keep track of which ones I was seeing on the regular. And it wasn't long before I had nearly filled my phone memory.
As each ad interrupted my scrolling, I felt my mood shift. I had not thought deeply about my fertility before this moment, but now I am consumed by it.
Had I missed my prime time? Have I lost my opportunity? Why hadn't I thought of this before now? Why have I wasted my life?
My panic was deepened by a factor that would have been completely unknown to my algorithm. At that point, it was something that was not known beyond my closest friends and immediate family.
So let's talk about it.
At the same time as I was being served increasingly trepidatious content about my fertility, I was going through a genuine cancer scare. And I was petrified.
My family has a strong history of ovarian cancer. With each milestone, the fear of its arrival boils a little higher.
There is currently no effective way to screen for ovarian cancer, and with very limited symptoms, the likelihood of finding ovarian cancer early is low.
As a consequence, the relative five-year survival rate is under 50 per cent. Put simply, if you're diagnosed with ovarian cancer, you have a much higher chance of dying within five years than if you are diagnosed with other gynecologic cancers.
Why? Because it's more likely to have spread in the time it's taken you to find it. That's a scary prospect at any age.
So practically overnight, I had gone from feeling young and insouciant, to confronted with the prospect of my mortality and my waning fertility. *Queue sharp breathing into paper bag*
And all because of a few innocuous ads on social media.
If I was experiencing this barrage of online torture, maybe other women were too. I know a few of my friends have, in fact, struggled with their fertility. I know women who desperately cling to the hope that they may one day become mothers even as each passing year steals that hope a little more.
The Queensland Premier Anastacia Palaszczuk recently told the nation of how deeply her miscarriage had affected her. It was a private pain and shock that took years for her to come to grips with. You just can't know who's suffering around you.
Are they confronted with the endless purview of fertility ads on their newsfeeds? How insensitive.
But how could we expect more from a mindless, emotionless tech algorithm? Well, behind that algorithm is a team of tech nerds calling the shots.
The algorithm only works on the pre-ordained parameters input by some keyboard giants, based on the likely profile of a user's changing interests. Nearly-30 woman with a mortgage and professional job? Release the fertility ads!
Yet, I'm an individual with unique thoughts, feelings and experiences. I don't fit your clinical user profile. Actually, no-one does. Because life is not a one-size fits all occasion.
So here is my appeal to the tech nerds that have opened the floodgates on my personal fertility nightmare. Dial it back! Close the tap on those ads, I'm begging you!
Bring back the cat memes. Drop in a few cute capybara videos. I want to see a charming bouquet of dog pictures with every scroll.
Heck, I'd even take the occasional superannuation ad at this point!
There's no way your algorithm could know the hidden pain behind our endless scrolling. There are enough things in this world that will steal our hope. Stop adding to it.
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