You probably have an era which you would consider “the good days of the Internet”. For me, that was the early-to-mid 1990s, where we enjoyed “easy” access to a new medium where information, which hitherto could only be transferred by post, fax, or voice from one person to another, was able to travel between multiple people in an instant. Certainly as much information as a 14.4k dial-up modem would allow.
Things like the World Wide Web were new and acronyms like “IRC” and “Usenet” were somewhat commonplace amongst the nerdy crowd. Little thought was paid to the idea of information ownership. We spoke freely on servers paid for by those who could afford it. Sometimes this was one individual; sometimes it was more collective. But it was infrastructure generally run and maintained out of altruism so that we could all enjoy one another’s company and the sensation of using technology that felt anonymous, futuristic, while staying somehow personal and authentic. It felt genuinely subversive in a sense, and gratifyingly so.
Much of today’s technologies stemmed from the open and free collaboration that was borne from this generation, not to mention relationships and life-long friendships.
Fast-forward to 2025, and the world has changed — and certainly not for the better. Discussion forums and blogging have mostly given way to social media, which has been corrupted and monitored for the slightest bit of personal information. This shift has led to a new age where personal data has become a commodity, privacy an afterthought, and authenticity drowned out by algorithms that thrive on polarisation.
It worries me that scandals like Cambridge Analytica have been mostly forgotten, swept under the rug of convenience. Society’s collective privacy has been steadily eroded. We’ve traded agency for ease, individuality for metrics. The rise of bots powered by large language models let loose into the public domain adds another layer of concern. Left unchecked, these tools risk transforming the very essence of online communication into something impersonal, curated, and devoid of nuance.
This blog is my own small step toward reclaiming some of the freedom and authenticity I value deeply. I’m still undecided about whether to allow commenting — an aspect of the Internet I value but rapidly losing it’s authenticity as AI becomes more human-like — but even without it, this space represents my deliberate return to simpler, more intentional digital engagement.
In returning to this format, I’m hoping to recapture the original spirit of the Internet — at least for myself. A spot where I can write and embrace a more intentional way of engagement, even if it’s just one-way for the moment.