I'm Grigor Vladimir, a software engineer from Finland. This is the story of how a business problem at a behavioural analytics company became something I couldn't stop thinking about — and eventually became this.

What I saw at work

Until recently, I was a software engineer at Behavix.io, a behavioural analytics company with some of the best data collection technology in the industry. Last October, during one of our brainstorming sessions, I raised an idea that I couldn't let go of.

Even with industry-leading technology, one thing kept nagging at me: the datasets could be so much wider and more representative if users were genuinely motivated to share their digital activity. That was the business challenge. But thinking about it led somewhere more interesting.

Who's controlling the data?

Every day, billions of people browse the web, use apps, search, and buy things online. That activity generates data — usage trails tracked by apps and platforms under terms of service that almost nobody reads1 — and those trails contain behavioural signals that companies pay real money for. Markets are built on this kind of intelligence.

Much of it isn't even intentional. Around 64% of people identify as doomscrollers2 — compulsively browsing news and social feeds long past the point of enjoyment, losing an average of three days a month to it3. That activity generates data too. Its value flows to the platforms just the same.

And the people who generate it get nothing. No control over who uses it. No say in what it funds. No benefit whatsoever.

Much of the broader industry still relies on surveys — small groups of people, a few hundred at most, incentivised with a few dollars to answer questions. The samples are specific, often self-selecting, prone to bias. The data is usable, but it is a pale substitute for real behaviour at real scale.

So there was a gap. A large one. And sitting in the middle of it: millions of people generating enormous value every day, with no idea it was happening and no way to participate.

The moment it clicked

I sort my rubbish every week. In Finland, this isn't a minor habit — it's a way of life. Every household has a dedicated bin for paper, cardboard, glass, metal, plastic, biowaste, and mixed waste. Newcomers find it overwhelming; Finns find it perfectly normal. Over 90% of beverage containers get returned. The return rate for glass bottles is nearly 100%. We sort obsessively, automatically, and without complaint — because we understand that waste handled well stops being waste. It goes somewhere, gets processed, becomes something useful.

One evening I thought: what if digital waste worked the same way?

Your browsing, your searches, your online activity — it's already being collected. That's not going to change. But right now, where it goes and who benefits is decided entirely by the platforms. What if you could sort it differently? What if you could say: yes, use my data — but in return, fund the causes I care about?

You might wonder: why not just pay users directly? The honest answer is that one person's monthly data trail is worth a few dollars at most4 — not enough to survive transaction fees, let alone feel meaningful. But pooled across thousands of users who share the same values, those dollars accumulate into something worth directing. Not to bank accounts — to causes.

That thought put the pieces together. The markets want the data. Users generate it anyway. The missing piece was simply giving users control over what happens next — and making that control mean something.

What we're building

Donate Digital Footprint is built on a simple idea: your digital activity already has value. We think you should decide where that value goes.

The app collects your anonymised behavioural data — with your explicit permission, limited to what you choose to share. That data is sold to market researchers and analysts who need it. The proceeds go to causes you select: climate, education, health, poverty, animal welfare, and more.

You don't pay anything. You don't do anything differently. You just stop letting your digital footprint go to waste.

Updated 8 March 2026

Convinced? Your digital footprint is being collected anyway — it may as well mean something.