Yet today, devotion unfolds not only in mosques and homes, but on timelines. Qur’an completion charts are uploaded as stories. Fasting streaks are tracked like fitness goals. Charity is documented in carefully framed reels. The month that once emphasised inward struggle now competes with outward visibility.
Technology has undeniably widened access to faith. Online tafsir circles reach students who cannot attend in person. Digital Qur’an apps send reminders that steady distracted days. Fund raising links mobilise generosity in minutes. For many young Muslims, the algorithm has become a doorway to rediscovery.
But it is also a mirror and mirrors can distort.
Ramadan was prescribed, the Qur’an reminds us, “so that you may attain taqwa” (Qur’an 2:183). Taqwa is not performance. It is inward consciousness , the quiet awareness that God sees even when no one else does.
That inwardness sits uneasily in a culture built on visibility.
When worship becomes content, intention grows complicated. A good deed posted for “motivation” can quietly seek validation. A Qur’an challenge becomes a public scoreboard. Spiritual growth risks being reduced to metrics: pages read, days fasted, donations made. The sacred slips into something measurable.
Islamic tradition has long guarded against this danger. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) warned against riya subtle showing off and said that actions are judged by intentions. In another sacred narration (Hadith Qudsi), Allah says about fasting: “It is for Me, and I will reward it.” The emphasis is striking. Fasting is uniquely intimate, known fully only to the one who fasts and to God.
Yet algorithms reward consistency, visibility and engagement. Silence does not trend. Reflection does not go viral. The pressure to display devotion even unintentionally is real, particularly for younger users navigating identity online.
This is not an argument for digital withdrawal. Faith has always travelled through the tools of its time from ink to print to broadcast. The question is subtler: can we use technology without letting it measure our sincerity?
The Qur’an cautions, “Do not nullify your charity with reminders of your generosity or injury” (2:264). The warning is timeless. A deed that begins in humility can erode under applause.
Perhaps the solution lies in conscious restraint. Share knowledge, but protect intention. Inspire others, but guard privacy. Post if it genuinely benefits someone not because it strengthens an image. Not every act of worship requires an audience.
Ramadan is ultimately an inward audit, not a public report. It asks who we are when no one is watching, not when everyone is scrolling.
In the age of algorithms, the quietest fast may be the most radical one.
