Shittification of the Internet
I grew up in India and my first interaction with the internet was in early 2000s using a dial up modem. Hearing that unmistakable crackling noise was so exciting and it honestly made me feel like the possibilities were endless. I loved the internet in the 2000s because, in my opinion, it was the golden age of the internet.
Back then, the internet was a destination, not a ubiquitous backdrop to our lives. I went online to explore, to connect, and to create in a space that felt like a digital parallel to the real world, full of distinct neighbourhoods and communities. I used all sorts of programs, applications online including messaging apps like MSN Messenger, LimeWire, MP3 Rocket, Flash games and more. Granted, some of these things I used and did blurred the legal boundaries but that's what made everything so exciting and fun.
It gave me a powerful sense of independence and freedom. I'm not even talking about freedom of speech in a political sense. I mean the freedom to roam—the feeling that I wasn't handcuffed to one app, one website, or one ecosystem.
Today, things are different and I sort of dislike the internet. We are perpetually on the internet, a passive audience to be targeted and influenced. The internet of today feels less like a boundless digital frontier and more like a crowded, noisy, and perpetually monetized theme park. For those of us who came of age online in the early to late 2000s, the experience is a stark and often disappointing contrast.
The algorithms, the walled gardens, the endless ads, the shitty content, and now the AI slop—it all serves one purpose: to squeeze every last drop of money and data out of us, all to make a number on a stock chart go up. This sentiment is not just a feeling; it's a reality reflected in the very architecture and economy of the modern web. The "greed" is not an illusion; it's a quantifiable shift in the internet's primary function - you just need to look at the revenue of the tech companies and how it has exploded in recent years.
The internet of the 2000s was a landscape of discovery. We stumbled upon personal blogs, niche forums, and independent websites through a combination of rudimentary search engines, webrings, and word-of-mouth. It was a pull economy of information; we sought out what interested us. Today, we live in a push economy. Everything is sort of force-fed to us and sophisticated algorithms act as the invisible hands that curate our reality, feeding us a constant diet of content designed to keep us "engaged". I hate the fact that I only need to watch a couple of cat video on YouTube for the algorithms to think that I must be a cat lover and that I must own cats. Cue the cat food and accessories ads. (I mean I don't hate cats - I even like them but I am a dog person).
The internet of the 2000s was a more decentralized and open ecosystem. While giants like Microsoft, AOL, and Yahoo existed, their control was not as all-encompassing as that of today's tech behemoths. The rise of Google, Meta, Amazon, and Apple has led to the creation of "walled gardens," closed ecosystems that keep users within their platforms for as long as possible.
This consolidation of power has stifled competition and innovation in many areas. It has also given these companies unprecedented access to our personal data, which they use to build ever-more detailed profiles for targeted advertising. The trade-off for the "free" services we enjoy is a level of surveillance that would have been unimaginable in the dial-up era. The internet of the early to late 2000s was not a perfect utopia. It had its own set of problems, from security vulnerabilities to the nascent forms of online harassment. But it was a web that was still largely defined by its users, not by a handful of powerful corporations. It was a place of innovation, not just in technology, but in human connection. And for those of us who remember it, the dial-up dream of a truly open and democratic digital frontier feels more distant than ever.
The visual landscape of the internet has also undergone a dramatic transformation. The websites of the 2000s were often a chaotic mix of clashing colours, animated GIFs, and experimental layouts. While not always aesthetically pleasing by today's minimalist standards, there was a certain charm and personality to this diversity. Each website felt like a unique creation, a reflection of the individual or group behind it. Today's web design is far more homogenous. The rise of mobile-first design and the dominance of a few major platforms have led to a more streamlined and user-friendly, but also a more sterile and corporate, aesthetic. The rough edges and quirky individualism have been smoothed away in favour of a clean, predictable, and ultimately less memorable experience. More often than not, I can tell whether a website is using Shopify for their checkout pages (even if there is no mention of it on the page or in the URL). Even this website you are reading this article on is just a template.
And let's talk about the content itself—the text, images, and videos. Most of it is just... terrible. The internet is always on, so the demand for something to fill the space is constant. It's a numbers game, and statistically, how much truly good content can there be? The result is a vast ocean of shit, which makes finding anything of quality feel like a chore. Now, with AI pumping out slop at an exponential rate, that ocean is turning into a sewer.
Don't even get me started on the ads. They're everywhere. Soon they'll be beaming them directly into our brains. I don't mind good advertising; it's funded the web for decades and probably always will. But today's ads, just like the content, are mostly garbage. And just like with content, AI is being used to make them even worse, not better.
Then there's the even darker stuff: the rampant misinformation and toxicity. ('Toxicity,' like that killer System of a Down song from the 2000s—the best decade for music, but that's a whole other rant). Frankly, I'm exhausted just thinking about it. What more is there to say? It's a mess, and it's making everything worse and it needs to stop.
Now, not everything about the modern internet is worse. The speed and accessibility we enjoy today are nothing short of miraculous compared to the frustrations of a 56k modem. The wealth of high-quality streaming content, the convenience of online shopping, and the power of instant global communication are undeniable benefits.
However, the general feeling of being online has soured. The sense of wonder and possibility has been replaced by a weary cynicism. We are constantly on guard against scams, misinformation, and the relentless intrusion of advertising. The internet, once a space for genuine connection and discovery, has become another arena for commercial exploitation.