The beliefs themselves were dry and pedantic, but I held them strongly. The one I remember most clearly, and the one I didn’t release until after Madarchitect vanished, was that we could somehow “know” objective reality with certainty. Not all of it, but just a few epistemologically foundational locations.

I realized I was defending it emotionally because in the moment I considered that I could possible be wrong, I felt that deep cognitive regret that's often felt but hard to explain. The feeling is similar to when you bite your tongue and admit you're wrong. It's not exactly regret, not exactly discomfort, and not exactly embarrassment. It's some indefinable and lightweight combination of the three, mixed with a "grounding" effect, like a buzzkill. It's one of those emotions that I don't think you're supposed to be aware of. The emotions pulling the strings of thought are subtle, and such a familiar piece of the machinery of cognition that it's difficult to recognize it as a unique component.

The prejudice of algorithms
Internet algorithms are dividing us, not bringing us together. The assumptions, predictions, and generalisations they make about us are not value neutral or apolitical. Robert Elliott Smith talks to Paul Barclay about the inherent prejudice of algorithms.
Publication: Rage Inside The Machine by Robert Elliott Smith

Sounds like chagrin. And your discussion of it sounds like Proust, in search of lost time.