…never before has The Indie Web been such a glorious platform for building anything you might dream of and sharing it with anyone you like, yet never before has The Corporate Web been so awful and damaging to the body politic. I wish I knew how to deal with this cognitive dissonance, and how to convey to mere mortals out there that the The Indie Web is alive and kicking, and that The Corporate Web doesn’t have to define their experience of being online.

The Open Web has a messaging and onramp problem. There’s no shortage of brilliant technical and engineering minds working on it, but where are the designers and product strategists who might craft the ’easy enough’ onramps for those who don’t really give a shit about ActivityPub and just want a healthy, constructive and friendly place to share online? Who is communicating the value of the Open Web in compelling ways and using language non-nerds can comprehend?

The recent growth of Bluesky is proof of a collective appetite for something more. Full disclosure, I don’t think Bluesky is the answer, but they definitely understand the onboarding assignment of making the experience easy without introducing dark patterns (yet).

The foundation for a scalable Open Web is here, thanks to the dedication and great work of the developer community that’s gotten us to this point. But to truly realize the potential and impact a universal open web, we need to augment the engineering focus with two additional legs of the stool: design and product. Only then will we be able to understand the problems and needs of the users who aren’t yet here and build the open, accessible and welcoming web of the future.

When they say “free expression,” I want you to hear “the end of community care.”

When they say “algorithmic neutrality,” I want you to hear “the automation of amplified harm.”

When they say “marketplace of ideas,” I want you to hear “a colosseum where truth wrestles with virality.”

When they say “content-neutral platform,” I want you to hear “we’ve chosen profit over protection.”

When they say “open dialogue,” I want you to hear “we’ve removed the guardrails.”

When they say “reduced content moderation,” I want you to hear “we’ve dismissed the digital gardeners.”

When they say “user empowerment,” I want you to hear “you’re on your own now.”

When they say “engagement metrics,” I want you to hear “behavior we can monetize.”

When they say “democratic discourse,” I want you to hear “the loudest voices win.”

When they say “digital town square,” I want you to hear “unmoderated chaos.”

These aren’t just semantic games—they’re the architecture of our new digital reality. Each phrase is another layer between what we’re told and what we experience, between the promise of connection and the practice of division.

I find myself returning to the early dreams of the web, when we imagined digital spaces as gardens to be tended, not markets to be exploited. It’s time to reclaim not just our platforms, but our very language—to speak plainly about what we’re building, what we’re breaking, and what we’re willing to sacrifice in the name of unconstrained growth.

The web I want to inhabit still has gardeners. It still has carpenters and caretakers. It still believes in the power of boundaries to create safety, and the strength of moderation to cultivate community. Most importantly, it still understands that true freedom comes not from the absence of constraints, but from the presence of care.

Credits: Words and Music by Jeffrey D. Inscho Recorded at Mountainside Studio Engineered and Mixed by Rich Ruscigno and Jeffrey