What began as an academic experiment to connect computers has morphed into the invisible fabric that sustains almost all of modern life. But it also became the epicenter of a disturbing paradox: the network that promised to democratize knowledge and unite the world, today fragments and monitors it.
Almost all video, commerce, public conversation and surveillance pass through his veins, but his heart beats in few hands.
From “network of networks” to “network of algorithms”
By: Gabriel E. Levy B.
In 2025, the Internet celebrates three foundational milestones that, together, outline its transformation from an experimental network to the dominant infrastructure of the contemporary world.
It has been 56 years since that first connection in 1969 between two computers on the ARPANET network, 42 years since the formalization of the TCP/IP protocol in 1983 and 34 years since the emergence of the World Wide Web in 1991, the interface that turned the network into an accessible and navigable space for millions.
In 1969, that first transmission between UCLA and the Stanford Research Institute did not intend to imagine a global communicational universe, but simply to prove that two machines could “talk” to each other through a distributed architecture.
Leonard Kleinrock, one of the project’s pioneers, described that inaugural moment as a technical test of sending packets: they tried to type “login,” but the network collapsed after the first few letters. That brief “l-o-g” exchange was the first gasp of what would later become a total ecosystem.
The next big leap occurred in 1983, when the TCP/IP protocol replaced the NCP (Network Control Protocol) and became the common language for previously incompatible networks to be integrated into a universal system. It was this change that allowed the exponential expansion of nodes, universities, research centers and, later, companies and governments.
TCP/IP was not a visible interface, but without its underlying architecture, no email, no web page, and no social network would be possible today. It represented the key step between a functional network for the few and an operating system for society as a whole.
And finally, in 1991, the British scientist Tim Berners-Lee presented the World Wide Web: a system of documents linked by hyperlinks, which could be consulted from browsers.
This milestone changed the nature of the Internet: from a network of technical networks, it became a cultural experience. HTML, the HTTP protocol and the first browsers with a graphical interface created mass access to information and gave rise to the concept of navigation. The Web introduced a new logic of exploration: textual, visual, hyperlinking.
What at first was a faceless and non-central technical infrastructure, a network without an owner, became, over the years, a symbolic and emotional dimension of everyday life. From commands in text terminals, we went on to infinite timelines.
From decentralized forums to hypercurated platforms.
What seemed then like a digital utopia, an open encyclopedia, an infinite library, a global community, was absorbed into architectures designed to maximize the profitability of care.
Evgeny Morozov, a sharp critic of technological optimism, wrote in The Net Delusion that cyberspace was eroded in the name of efficiency, surveillance, and profit. The promise of an open network clashed with the closed design of the platforms.
In a few decades, we went from the excitement of “log-in” to the anguish of “scrolling”. And in that trajectory, the Internet ceased to be a tool for everyone and became an opaque mirror of our deepest social contradictions.
The Hyperconnection Paradox
The more connected we are, the harder it is to find a common conversation.
Political polarization, hate speech, filter bubbles, and disinformation campaigns are symptoms of a disease born of the very design of the current network. Platforms like X (formerly Twitter) or Facebook reward quick reaction, emotional content, and extreme stances. Algorithms prioritize virality over veracity.
This is no coincidence. It is linked to a business model that extracts attention as a raw material. Shoshana Zuboff, in her book The Age of Surveillance Capitalism, explains that the digital economy is based on capturing behaviors, predicting them, and ultimately modifying them.
The initial promise of a network that would enhance deliberation and encounter became a device for emotional capture.
Even in remote geographies, where the Internet arrived as a promise of inclusion, the result was uneven.
In many countries in the global south, the “gateway” is not the web, but a specific app: Facebook or WhatsApp. Access exists, but without a diversity of sources. It is a window, not a square.
And while artificial intelligence and quantum futures are being discussed, much of humanity still accesses the network through slow, insecure, and monitored connections. The dream of a global democratic network remains unrealized.
YouTube, TikTok, Facebook: the power of platforms
There are data that summarize everything. In 2023, YouTube recorded more than 500 hours of video uploaded per minute. TikTok, on the other hand, became the most downloaded application in the world. Facebook, with more than 2.9 billion active users, acts as the “complete Internet” in several countries.
These platforms not only dominate traffic, but also narratives. They control what is seen, how long it is viewed, who sees it, and how it is interpreted.
In countries such as the Philippines or Brazil, electoral campaigns are no longer understood without the direct influence of social networks. Political polarization accelerates in environments designed to segment audiences, confirm biases, and maximize conflict.
In the field of education, platforms such as Google Classroom or Zoom displaced the Web as a training space. Digital education is channeled through private companies that control access, data, and user experience.
Even entertainment became hostage to the algorithm. Series, documentaries, music and cinema circulate filtered by recommendation systems that maximize viewing time, but reduce cultural diversity. Netflix, Amazon Prime, or Spotify are not only channels: they are invisible curators who decide what is visible and what is hidden.
In conclusion, the Internet is 56 years old, having become an unrecognizable network for those who imagined its birth. From a collaborative tool, it became a vertical, monitored and highly concentrated structure. Today, more than ever, there is a need to rethink its founding principles, democratize access, distribute power, and recover its original vocation: to connect without dominating.
References:
- Morozov, E. (2011). The Net Delusion: The Dark Side of Internet Freedom. PublicAffairs.
- Zuboff, S. (2019). The Age of Surveillance Capitalism. PublicAffairs.
- Fraticelli, D. (2020). The ideology of digitalization. Editorial Teseo.
