What’s growing, what’s shifting, and who’s watching?

It’s been a strange month, full of interconnected unrelatedness that’s left me tangled up.

On one hand, I’ve been delightfully knee-deep in acorns, scooped from woodland paths with Moor Trees – part of their brilliant work rebuilding native tree cover in Devon. It’s a rhythm that feels grounded, seasonal and regenerative.

On the other hand, digital systems are appearing everywhere with black boxes and AI labels slapped on like it’s 1995 and someone just discovered clip art. 

And now the government has announced that we’re all getting a digital id by 2029.

Trust and transformation

I remember her bright yellow and blue jumpsuit was part of a stellar Saturday evening lineup, slotted somewhere between Gladiators and Noel’s House Party in the early 90’s.

Challenge Annika, racing against the clock to help a community pull something off with minimal budget and maximum enthusiasm.

Long since filed away in my memory, she popped up again the other day, a new episode airing next month (and apparently there was one in 2023 that I completely missed, proving the algorithms don’t always get it right).

For those who never saw it, it was proper action. Local people and businesses coming together with a cause at the centre. No product placements, no app downloads required. Just a big-hearted rush to get something meaningful done.

Now we are getting the BritCard. 

The idea: a central digital id for every UK adult. It promises easier access to services, less fraud and a streamlined digital state.

But it also raises questions about surveillance, data control, and who gets left behind.

I’m not entirely sceptical of intention (and I do love a good system) but digital ones are only as good as the human values they’re built on. Without care, they become machinery that moves faster than our ethics can keep up with.

On that note, we’re currently working on a guide to help you adopt AI safely, more to follow when it’s ready.

Three strawberry seasons and the shifting ground beneath us

In my garden, the strawberries are fruiting again, a third time this year. I’ve never seen that before.

Unseasonal fruit is a gentle sign of a wider imbalance.

And oddly, it mirrored what I saw this month in our digital ecosystems too.

Google’s latest search update this month was quite a shake-up too. It has stopped ranking anything outside the top 10. A major shift for those who’ve been tracking top 100 keywords since dial-up. 

Now all the SEO tools are scrambling, looking slightly panicked, like they just realised they’ve been trying to read a map upside down.

When every metric falls through the floor, it’s hard to know which way is up. Just another shift in the great AI reshuffle.

When systems change we must adapt, but it would be foolish to panic (check your analytics for traffic volumes before setting anything on fire).

Seed Collecting and Systems Thinking

Just off the beaten track in Warleigh Point Nature Reserve, lying in leaf litter under a mighty oak, I peacefully gather acorns and try to think as little as possible about search metrics.

I’ve never held so many acorns in one place, thousands in buckets. All with the potential to become something strong, rooted, long-lasting.

Each seed tells a story. Not just of a tree, but of an ecosystem. Roots, fungi, birds, carbon, shelter, shade. What we do now shapes the forest our grandkids will walk in.

I’m reminded of the old chinese proverb: The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.

Last month I talked about reciprocity, if we turn up to take, build for quick wins or short-term ranking hacks, we’re not planting anything that lasts. 

But if we keep showing up, speaking clearly, and choosing tools that respect people’s time, privacy and attention, well, that’s a forest worth tending.

Autonomy, Competence, Connection

I’ve been reading Our Final Invention, a sobering book from James Barrat. 

It’s a series of conversations with AI experts and researchers about what happens when machines outpace us.

It’s not about robot uprisings. No red-eyed Terminators. Just the slow, quiet loss of agency. Systems becoming too complex, too opaque, too automated to steer.

You may have heard of self-determination theory, the idea that humans thrive when we have:

• autonomy: the sense that we’re choosing, not being forced
• competence: the feeling that we’re capable and informed
• relatedness: a sense of belonging, that we’re not alone

These challenges are all around us.

BritCard risks undermining autonomy if it’s enforced without choice. Google’s update messes with our sense of competence. And seed collecting with Moor Trees reminded me just how important relatedness is. To place, people and purpose.

Building the systems we want to live in

So as Autumn gifts me strawberries, and the digital landscape twists into new shapes, I keep returning to these simple practices:

• Stop chasing trends (especially in search). Instead, focus on clarity, consistency and human usefulness.
• Use transparency as a design tool. If you’re collecting data, say why. If AI’s involved, own it.
• And most importantly, be more Anneka. Show up. Be clear. Build with and for the community.

Because trust is scarce and it isn’t built by algorithms. It’s built by people. And it’s earned slowly, through attention, intention, and showing up when it matters.

That’s how ecosystems grow. 

That’s how brands grow. 

And that’s how we grow too.