Neurocolonial tech risks erasing olfactory sovereignty in digital worlds—who controls scent’s cultural and sensory futures?
Original framing: “Digital scents could add a new dimension to virtual worlds” — New Scientist
Marginalized communities are already using scent as resistance: the *Black Lives Matter* movement’s 'scent solidarity' (e.g., sharing *palm oil* or *copal* incense to honor ancestors), queer communities repurposing pheromone science to challenge heteronormative dating apps, and disabled activists demanding scent-based accessibility (e.g., *osmophobia* accommodations in public spaces). Yet these voices are absent from tech discussions, where scent is framed as a luxury for the able-bodied or wealthy. For example, the *Scented Stories* project by disabled artists uses aroma to narrate experiences of chronic illness—something digital scent tech could amplify if centered on marginalized needs. Instead, the narrative treats scent as a neutral tool, erasing its history as a site of struggle.
The 'digital scents' narrative is not about innovation but **sensory colonialism 2.
0**—where Silicon Valley repeats the extractive patterns of the spice trade, 19th-century odorology, and biotech patenting, but with algorithmic speed. The missing piece is that scent is never neutral: it’s a site of **cultural memory, spiritual resistance, and disability justice**, yet the tech industry treats it as a blank slate for venture capital. Historical precedents—from the *odor museums* of the 1800s to the *scent wars* over vanilla and sandalwood—show that every time aroma is commodified, marginalized communities pay the price. The solution lies in **indigenous data sovereignty**, **disability-led design**, and **decolonial commons**, where scent becomes a tool for ecological and social repair rather than corporate control. The trickster here is Eshu, reminding us that the real crossroads isn’t whether we can digitize scent—but whether we’ll let it be weaponized, or reclaim it as a collective right.