“I recently ended up buying a subscription for more Apple iCloud storage. It was after I had reached a point where I could no longer tolerate receiving notifications indicating that my storage was full. I couldn’t even see the icons of my mobile apps because there was no space left. I couldn’t use my phone properly anymore, not even for calling.” – L.

L. has been managing multiple Google accounts since high school. She is now in her twenties. The rationale behind this? To either have access to multiple Drive accounts, or reserve some for spam emails exclusively. Despite being stored in a limited 15 GB cloud, the space increases with another 15 GB upon creating an additional account. While something like this is possible in the case of Google due to its more flexible designed storage ecosystem, and also hailed as a savvy workaround, Apple service users can face different challenges. As the Apple ecosystem is more tightly integrated and controlled, its storage options are often being tied to a single iCloud account, making it challenging for users to aggregate storage from multiple accounts without resorting to paid subscriptions. Thus, L. faces the continuous challenge of balancing two digital ecosystems with different behaviors.

V. also confided in me about his use of multiple Google accounts, mentioning acquaintance with at least two other people who employ this strategy. Meanwhile, N., upon noticing a considerable reduction in his Google Drive storage following his initial university semester, promptly took action by purchasing a €2 monthly subscription for increasing his cloud capacity up to 100 GB, preempting any potential space constraints.

Arising from my ongoing Master’s research on digital storage as an extension of memory, I have gleaned deeper insights into the challenges of digital overload and data accumulation within personal storage contexts. It seems that, regardless of which digital ecosystem we operate in, or how we choose to utilize cloud space, the unavoidable truth is that digital clutter turns out to be most of the time an inevitable result. I am using the terms “digital clutter” and/or “accumulation” rather than “digital hoarding”- which is characterized by a user amassing a vast quantity of digital materials, resulting in a cluttered digital environment that impedes efficient utilization of that accumulated content[1]. That is due to considering that the latter implies negative/pathologic connotations that can overlook the complexity and necessity of digital data accumulation for various purposes.

In my interviews, all participants shared a common practice: they hold onto their digital possessions by creating “just-in-case” scenarios. These scenarios could stem from emotional attachments to their content or lack of awareness regarding the space it occupies. Furthermore, FoMO (Fear of Missing Out) has been identified as a contributing factor to the issue – which comes with the territory of social media engagement[2]. In this context, FoMO can be characterized by the experience of negative emotions such as anxiety or panic, which arise when individuals perceive a lack of immediate connection to social media and fear they may miss out on relevant content[3]. When involved with the subject of digital storage, people often fail to comprehend the practical implications of their accumulated data due to its intangible nature. Unlike tangible possessions, digital space is imperceptible, making it challenging for users to visualize or quantify the extent of their storage usage. Moreover, as digital storage surpasses its finite capacity, users’ failure to grasp the physical constraints exacerbates the problem, leading to an unconscious accumulation of data. In other words, cloud storage, now serving as alternatives to tangible mediums (such as CDs/DVDs/USB Sticks/Hard Disk Drives, etc.), provides virtually limitless storage space without the limitations of physical hardware, and at what it seems, at least in the beginning, to be of a significantly lower cost (but the subscription-based models, which can accumulate over time, are potentially exceeding the upfront cost of purchasing physical storage hardware).

At this point, an argument could be made that whether cloud storage users opt for a subscription plan or not, they are essentially transitioning from owning their data storage space to renting it from large tech companies. This shift reflects broader dynamics of techno-capitalism, where data has become a valuable commodity for profit accumulation – the societal priority being reshaped from capital reproduction to knowledge reproduction, rendering traditional scarcity-based theories obsolete[4]. In the realm of digital clutter and cloud service subscriptions, I argue that this paradigm illuminates the commodification of knowledge and data by tech giants. Users, whether consciously subscribing or not, surrender control over their data storage, perpetuating techno-capitalist dynamics where profit eclipses user autonomy. Moreover, by drawing parallels with Marx’s theory of primitive accumulation[5], it can be discerned the way how data, akin to resources in Marxist context, is appropriated by tech-companies. Marx’s analogy between primitive accumulation and original sin also underscores how individuals unknowingly perpetuate their exploitation, resonating with a more contemporary metaphor that I coined – the “Cloud of Unknowing”. Just as in the medieval spiritual text, where seekers surrender their understanding to a divine cloud, in our contemporary society users inadvertently cede control of their digital lives to tech giants – thus, perpetuating a cycle of dependency.

I also contend that this assertion is essential when discussing sustainability and the impact that cloud storage has on the planet, because it underscores the environmental consequences of unchecked digital practices within a capitalist framework. That is because continuous cloud storage has been argued to have serious implications for the more tangible ecosystem – as it may perpetuate a culture of overconsumption and reliance on cloud infrastructure, potentially increasing electronic waste and energy consumption. And so, it turns out that the cloud of the digital realm is material[6]. Cloud storage has a significant ecological impact, as it requires massive infrastructure to sustain. Data centers, filled with hard drives constantly running to provide 24/7 access to user data, consume immense amounts of electricity, contributing to a substantial carbon footprint. In fact, data centers are responsible for 2.5-3.7% of all human-induced carbon dioxide emissions[7], surpassing the commercial aviation industry in carbon output[8]. Additionally, a single data center can consume as much electricity as 50,000 homes annually[9].

Personal cloud storage contributes to the ecological impact outlined in the last paragraph. While individual users may not operate data centers on the scale of large corporations, the proliferation of personal cloud storage services still necessitates infrastructure and energy consumption. Each user’s data, stored in the cloud, requires resources to be maintained, including server space and energy for data transmission and storage. Therefore, the cumulative effect of millions of individuals utilizing personal cloud storage services amplifies the environmental footprint associated with data storage and transmission. This underscores the importance of considering studying the practices of large tech companies also in relation to personal storing behaviors when assessing the ecological impact of digital storage. Thus, individual usage behavior encapsulates the focal point of this research.

The informants’ narratives unveiled a variety of approaches in navigating their digital realm. Amidst this diversity, a consistent theme across their responses was the “personal”-“work” dichotomy used for classifying their artifacts. This dichotomy is influencing the way they are storing their data within their cloud space. This dichotomous framework influences their data management and storage practices. For example, when I asked R. what factors can influence her decisions about what to keep or delete, she answered that “It depends a lot on the nature of the content”. She elaborated that while personal photographs might be candidates for deletion due to their diminished relevance in time, the perceived long-term utility of retaining school documents over several years presents a distinct consideration. This emphasis on the “nature” of content served as the foundational premise for my subsequent discussions, illuminating the nuanced interplay between personal and professional (and/or academic in some instances) artifacts in digital accumulation practices.

Some participants indicated their utilization of multiple cloud storage accounts (e.g., Google Drive, Dropbox, Mega) for establishing a clear distinction between personal and work-related domains. This differentiation further manifests along a spectrum when examining the various approaches employed by my interviewees in managing their data on the cloud. For instance, V. manages two Google Drive accounts, both categorized as “personal.” One is allocated for a personal passion project—a book in progress—while the other serves miscellaneous personal endeavors, such as storing photos, tickets, and drawings. Additionally, V. utilizes a Mega account for professional purposes, particularly in his role within urban planning, where the preservation of projects, documentations, and related materials is essential. Mega’s offering of up to 50 GB of free storage, which distinguishes it as the preferred cloud-based service for work-related needs. Similarly, S. maintains separate Google Drive accounts—one dedicated to work-related files and another for “personal” related data.

Insights surrounding personal storage practices and accessibility related challenges

The storing and maintenance practices of immaterial possessions in the Cloud reveal a multifaceted landscape influenced by both individual behaviors and constraints imposed by the digital infrastructure. While showing me around his 100 GB of Google Drive space, whose most consumed storage was by a folder called “Books”, N. stated:

“You get 20 GB from Google. I pay 2 euros monthly for 100 GB, on a subscription basis. I bought it in advance in my first year of college – I realized that if I had already used 1 GB in the first semester of college, it’s better to buy more. That’s the smallest option, of 100 GB.”

Out of the 100 GB option, he had 14 GB left when I talked to him. The books folder was responsible for most of the clutter:

“Do you think I’ll ever read them? I take them just to have them. Okay, maybe sometimes I need certain chapters for college. (…) I don’t know when I won’t need them anymore. Sometimes I feel like it might be a bit ridiculous to collect so many books. I have this feeling too. Other times I see it just as a pastime activity – it’s relaxing.”

Given also the fact that in this pastime activity N. struggles with having to deal with duplicates – because he just ends up forgetting about his collection and downloads the same things again and again – his insights prompt us to contemplate the consequences of subscription-based models, shedding light on how they may inadvertently foster digital clutter within digital environments.

V. went even further and talked about how, because he knows that he has a lot of cloud space on his Mega account, he ends up storing everything there randomly: “I have a lot of space in it, so I can just throw things.” Conversely, L. ended up doing something similar, but only when her Apple iCloud account reached its storage limit: “As I have less space on the drive, I don’t organize my things as much. When I have only 10% of space left, I start throwing everything in there. The idea of space is such a burden for me – because I know I have to clean it up – and every time I need to move photos from the cloud to my computer or HDD, because I don’t have another iOS device other than my phone, it takes forever.” She proceeded to explain how – the photos from the iPhone are in .HEIC format, incompatible with her laptop that runs on Microsoft Windows, making it necessary to convert them whenever she wants to move images to her local storage spaces.

It seems like accessibility among cloud storage apps might influence users’ data management strategies. For instance, platforms like Google Drive and Apple iCloud offer varying degrees of accessibility. Google Drive’s integration across devices encourages users to accumulate data without storage concerns, leading to a more relaxed approach to organization. Conversely, Apple iCloud’s compatibility limitations, such as the .HEIC image format, may hinder users from transferring photos to non-Apple platforms, affecting their storage behavior. L.’s struggle with iCloud exemplifies how compatibility challenges can influence users’ storage decisions, as she avoids transferring photos due to format issues, preferring in the end to resort to buying more iCloud space. These examples can highlight how accessibility features shape users’ approaches to storing data in the cloud, impacting their digital organizational habits and unhealthy storage practices. Users feel overwhelmed by numerous “cloud accounts” and different “ecosystems”, which foster a perpetual inclination to augment their storage capacity without apprehending the impact it eventually has on the planet.

Emotional attachments meet the illusion of endless space

The process of determining which data to retain or discard also yields additional insights into storage practices, whether prompted by users reaching storage capacity limits or periodically reviewing their accumulated content. While factors such as file size and creation date are mentioned, my interviewees also factor in emotional attachments to their data. T. sees deleting things from her Cloud as a break-up, having to recall an impactful incident where she needed to make a decision on what to store: “I went to the beach for the first time ever just last year and it was the most wonderful experience, but recently I was forced to delete all the pictures to make room for some editorials”. Later, she stated how others may be going through the same process of deleting in order to make room for other stuff, because “we don’t want to pay for more storage”. This emotional attachment can add depth to the storage process, illustrating how memories and personal experiences are intricately woven into digital artifacts. However, it also underscores the complexity the users face when balancing the desire to freely preserve memories with the practical need to manage storage space.

Various studies had looked at digital accumulation through the lens of “hoarding” – testing correlations between hoarding practices and other emotional attachments, for explaining why hoarding takes place[10],[11]. Fear of Missing Out (FoMO) has been discussed as one of the key psychological factors driving individuals to hold onto digital possessions for fear of missing out on important information or experiences. However, it’s crucial to acknowledge that the anxiety stemming from FoMO can be influenced by the design of cloud storage services themselves, potentially contributing to hoarding behaviors (or to general digital clutter). Therefore, considering a future change of focus from “hoarding” (as a disorder) to socially generated practices can provide a more holistic understanding of users’ behaviors in the digital realm.

Reflections on Digitized Accumulation and Environmental Impact

Understanding personal cloud storage practices is essential for grasping the environmental implications of digitized accumulation. While large tech companies bear responsibility for data storage’s ecological impact, users’ tendencies to accumulate digital assets without fully comprehending storage limitations significantly contribute to the overall environmental footprint. Ethnographic investigations into data storage farms highlight their extensive energy consumption and carbon emissions, underscoring the complex relationship between digitized accumulation and environmental degradation[12]. Adding to that, studying personal cloud storage practices offers insights into user behaviors and motivations, while shedding light on cultural attitudes towards digital consumption and the psychological drivers behind data retention. By understanding these dynamics, more strategies can be developed to promote more sustainable data management practices and mitigate the environmental consequences of digitized accumulation.

The examination of personal cloud storage practices not only underscores the environmental impact of digitized accumulation but also reveals deeper insights into our societal relationship with data. By delving into the motivations behind data retention and the dynamics of digital clutter, a more nuanced understanding of how individuals navigate the digital realm can be gained. This understanding is essential for developing effective strategies to promote sustainable data management practices and mitigate the environmental consequences of unchecked digitized accumulation.