DOWN WITH THE ALGORITHM: A WEB REBELLION!
The internet wasn't always this way. Remember the days before the algorithms took over? Before every page became a sterile, cookie-cutter clone designed to trap you in an endless doom scroll? The web was alive. It was chaotic, weird, and unapologetically human. Every website was a portal to someone's world, hand-coded with much love and a little bit of madness. It wasn't just browsing; it was an adventure.
But somewhere along the line, the true soul of the web got sold for ad revenue and analytics. The sites became cleaner, the colors became duller, and the algorithms turned us from creators of our worlds into data points. They sold us a lie: "that the only way forward was to simplify, standardize, and let the bots decide what we see." This squashes individuality and creativity, standardizing the web and making it a bland, predictable space.
We're calling BS.
This manifesto is a battle cry for everyone who misses the raw, hand-coded internet—an internet built by people, not corporations. It's a call to reclaim our little corners of the web with in-code styling, neon buttons, glitch transitions, and all the glitter GIFs our hearts desire. It's time to break free from the algorithmic dungeon and build sites that surprise, delight, and maybe even confuse the bots. We have the power to shape our digital world, and it's time to exercise that power.
We don't need another social media feed. We need a place where every page is a new adventure.
Remember when we were told that everything on the internet is forever? Yeah, that was true—until Myspace deleted their servers, wiping out millions of custom pages, photos, and playlists overnight. It was like when Notre Dame went up in flames—watching something iconic and irreplaceable vanish before our eyes, leaving only ashes and regret. We lost more than just data that day; we lost the vibrant, chaotic, and unapologetically human internet we once knew. The loss of this unique digital world is a void that still echoes in our online experiences.
That wasn't just a nostalgic loss; it was a painful reminder that when we let corporations control the web, they hold the power to rewrite or erase our online history at will—without warning or apology. They play the role of both historian and executioner, deciding what lives and what dies.
We can't let that happen again. We have to take back control and build our own sites—digital archives that some executives' cost-cutting decisions can't wipe out. But it's not just about ownership; it's about creativity. The old internet wasn't just data—it was raw, chaotic, and messy. It reflected our authentic human expression- imperfect, loud, and full of life. It's time to bring that back, hand-code by hand-code, and reclaim our responsibility for the web we want to see.
Now, let's talk about AI for a second. If we let artificial intelligence design the web, it won't bring back the magic of that old internet—it can't. Why? AI is trained to prioritize what looks good, not what feels real. It's optimized for clean, polished, algorithm-approved designs. But the old web wasn't about perfection—it was about personality. It was hand-coded, experimental, and chaotic in the best way possible.
AI can pull off designs that follow the rules but can't reproduce the heart and soul that came from actual people playing with and breaking the rules. It can't capture that raw, unfiltered energy that made the web feel alive. If we leave it to AI, we're building a sanitized rendition of the web that is as lifeless as a dead mouse. And worse, we're letting the algorithm decide what's worth creating and what gets erased. Your unique human expression, your hand-coded chaos, is irreplaceable and invaluable in the digital world. People (humans) are the lifeblood of the web, and their creativity makes it truly unique.
We can't let that happen again. The internet was meant to be weird, chaotic, and a reflection of authentic human expression—imperfect, loud, and full of life. It's time to bring that back, hand-code by hand-code.
Let's talk about social media for a minute. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok are the poster children of what happens when we let algorithms control everything. What started as spaces to share, connect, and express ourselves has been reduced to curated feeds designed to keep you scrolling, clicking, and, worse, buying (TikTok Shop, Facebook Marketplace).
The problem with algorithms is that they prioritize what gets the most views, not what's best for us or society. Algorithms are designed to maximize engagement, which means sensational, click-bait content always wins. It's not about quality or depth—it's about grabbing attention and keeping you scrolling and shopping.
This cycle amplifies the loudest, most extreme voices—recycling trends, polarizing opinions, and sometimes even harmful content—because it yields the most responses. What gets the views isn't always what helps us grow or learn. It grabs us emotionally, even if those reactions are divisive or damaging. This has led to a mental health crisis in younger generations. Corporations are not your friends.
The more we let algorithms decide for us, the more we lose that free, creative space the web used to offer. The internet was never meant to be a race for views—it was meant to be a place for connection, growth, and expression. Social media was meant to help us share our thoughts, art, and lives—not fuel a race for engagement metrics.
If we let these platforms define the web, we'll lose the very essence of creativity. We'll continue to follow trends set by algorithms and miss out on the uniqueness that made the internet so special. What's viral or shareable isn't necessarily good or authentic—it's just what gets the most clicks.
We can't let social media, massive corporations, or AI dictate the future of the web. It's time to reclaim our digital spaces, create, and share without the constant pressure of likes, shares, and ads. We need to make space for meaningful, insightful content that fosters real, productive conversation. The web was meant to be a place for self-expression, not a marketplace for your attention. Let's bring it back—one hand-coded page at a time.
Why Some Might Disagree:
While the desire to reclaim the chaotic, creative spirit of the old web is powerful, there are those who might disagree with this vision for several reasons:
Efficiency and Accessibility:
Argument: For many, the clean, streamlined design and algorithmic recommendations of today’s internet make the web more accessible and efficient. Social media platforms, for example, offer personalized content that helps people find relevant material quickly. The web, as it exists now, often prioritizes ease of use and convenience, making it easier for people to engage without being bogged down by complex design choices or slow-loading pages.
Counterpoint: While efficiency and accessibility are important, they often come at the cost of creativity and individuality. The current system leads to a homogenized web, where users are funneled into the same experiences. Creative freedom doesn’t have to mean chaos—it’s about giving people the option to break away from cookie-cutter experiences and create something personal without sacrificing usability or speed. With today’s tools, it’s possible to have both.
Commercial Success and Branding:
Argument: Businesses and brands benefit from the predictable, user-friendly design of today’s internet. The corporate web thrives on data-driven decisions and optimized user experiences that engage customers. The algorithms that dictate what we see on social platforms are also key drivers for engagement and profitability. In this world, design is optimized to maximize clicks and convert views into sales—creating a reliable, commercially successful model for companies.
Counterpoint: The problem is that this system prioritizes profit over creativity, turning the web into a marketplace where attention is commodified. When algorithms decide what we see, they reinforce what’s easiest to sell, not what’s most creative or authentic. What’s commercially successful doesn’t always mean what’s best for the web as a whole. The internet should be a space for people, not just brands—a place where creative expression can thrive alongside commerce, not be drowned by it.
Fear of Information Overload:
Argument: Some may worry that returning to the chaotic web could lead to information overload, with sites being overwhelming or difficult to navigate. Today's web often trades personalization and curation for ease of access and reliability. They may fear that a return to unpredictability could cause users to get lost in a maze of too much information without a clear structure.
Counterpoint: While chaos doesn’t mean disorder, the modern web has over-sanitized the experience. People want more choices and a wider variety of voices. The solution isn’t to shut down creativity for the sake of simplicity—it’s about offering both. We can balance personalization with creative freedom and still ensure that sites are easy to navigate. The web shouldn’t be boring just because it’s efficient—it should be a place for exploration with a sense of discovery.
The Role of AI and Algorithms:
Argument: With the rise of AI-driven content and design, many see these technologies as essential tools for creating personalized and tailored web experiences. AI can help design websites, streamline user interfaces, and even predict what content users will want to see. Some may argue that AI is the future and that embracing this technology is crucial to making the web more efficient and relevant to individual needs.
Counterpoint: AI may help with efficiency, but it cannot replicate the human creativity that makes the web so special. While AI can generate designs and predict user needs, it lacks the ability to understand human nuance, emotion, and expression. The future of the web should include human-driven design, where AI complements creativity, not replaces it. The magic of the web comes from unique human voices, and AI will never replace the raw energy of personal expression.
Nostalgia vs. Practicality:
Argument: There’s a school of thought that nostalgia for the "old web" overlooks the practical realities of today’s internet. Yes, the early web was quirky and wild, but it was also often slower, less reliable, and harder to navigate. As technology has advanced, so have our expectations for speed, design, and ease of use. Some may see the desire to return to the "chaotic" web as a backward-looking sentiment, ignoring the progress made in web design, user experience, and digital communication.
Counterpoint: Nostalgia doesn’t mean ignoring progress—it’s about reclaiming the spirit of the past and blending it with today’s advancements. The internet can be both user-friendly and creative. Just because things have become easier to use doesn’t mean they have to be boring. We have the tools to make websites fast, responsive, and creative. The new web doesn’t have to be devoid of the spirit that made it so great in the first place.
Conclusion:
The web was once a playground of creativity, a space where every individual could build, share, and express themselves. But somewhere along the way, algorithms, corporate interests, and sanitized design took that freedom and transformed it into a controlled, predictable, and shallow experience. The soul of the internet is slipping away—and we can't afford to let that happen.
This is our time to take back what's ours. It's time to reclaim the chaos, the weirdness, and the unapologetic expression that made the web great. The algorithms, AI, and social media giants won't give it back to us—they're too busy selling our attention. But we don't need their approval. We have the power to build again with HTML, CSS, JavaScript, etc—hand-code by hand-code—and create a space where creativity thrives, voices are heard, and true individuality isn't just allowed—it's celebrated.
RIP Myspace. I only found out in 2025 that the servers were deleted when I wanted to go back and look at my original Myspace page. That feeling of losing something so personal and iconic is a reminder of why we can't let corporations control the web. Our histories, creative expressions, and digital footprints deserve to exist forever. Like we were told, everything on the internet is forever… but no, it's not.
So, let's rise up, reject the bland, and take control. Let's build a web that surprises, delights, and challenges the status quo. The revolution starts with us, one line of code at a time. Together, we can bring back the web we lost—and make it better than ever before.