This is the first post in my Interlinked blog about the open social internet, technology, culture and society. In this one, I explain how the AT Protocol (the open social web that Bluesky and other apps run on) can fix the structural problems that make today’s social media so exploitative. I may use 'AT Protocol', 'ATProto' or the 'Open Social Web' interchangeably.
I want to explain why ATProto matters in plain English - no technical jargon, no need to know what a “federated network” or “data sovereignty” means. Most people just know social media feels worse every year: more dread, less connection. This is for anyone who might not know what Bluesky, Spark (what I’m building), or the AT Protocol are, but can feel how toxic the current system has become. This isn’t a deep dive into every part of the AT Protocol - just enough to explain why I believe it solves the core problems with today’s social media. It’s my answer to the question: how is this actually different? Something I can show friends who don’t want just another social app.
The next post will explore what this actually feels like, a look at the design possibilities of a social internet that doesn’t make you hate yourself.
If you want something more technical, I highly reccomend these articles by Dan Abramov:
There is a two-part problem with current social apps:
1. Incentive structures - how they make money.
2. Lock in - how they keep you trapped.
Let’s break it down.
1. Incentive Structures
Meta, TikTok, Snapchat, X, they are advertising companies. Their model is simple: capture attention, sell it, repeat. You are the product. Their algorithms are not built to make you feel good or informed. They are built to keep you scrolling for as long as possible - because more time on the app means more ads, and more ads means more revenue.
It works. Platforms optimize to the edge of addiction. They show just enough of your friends to keep you there, then flood you with content that hits emotional slot machines, fear, anger, envy, desire. Overstimulation pairs well with entertainment. Outrage and dopamine spikes are highly profitable.
Cory Doctorow calls this enshittification - the slow decay of platforms as they shift from serving users to exploiting them. In the endless pursuit of engagement and retention, everything breaks down: the product, the experience, the culture. Once-vibrant communities turn into sterile engagement farms. Creativity becomes content. Expression becomes data. The internet used to feel like a library; now it’s a casino - no clocks, no exits, just endless noise and flashing lights.
Generative AI content is the latest stage, infinite disposable slop that is cheap to make and just engaging enough to keep you watching. It's neither art nor expression, but digital fast food. Sora 2 is nothing but an ad play. Not the cure for cancer OpenAI promised - but hey, who needs that when you can have digital cancer instead?
Capitalism demands infinite growth from finite minds. It does what it always has - extract, expand, exploit - not until the resource runs out, but until the host is dead. Where colonial empires once sailed across oceans to claim land and labor, today’s empires of Big Tech sail across the digital seas to colonize our minds. Using algorithms instead of armies - every scroll, like, and notification is another act of extraction. Watch out - every second your phone isn’t in your hand is a wasted opportunity for Meta. Their next genius move in the quest to monetize your every waking thought? Simple: just strap the screen to your face.
2. Lock-in
If that was not enough, they made it hard to leave. You can’t take your followers or posts with you. You can’t DM a TikTok friend from Instagram or see Instagram stories on X. Every app is a walled garden. Think of a kitchen full of appliances that each need a different plug, or trains that run on incompatible tracks. These walls are deliberate. They keep you dependent. Leaving means leaving your content, your friends, and your history. Economists call this high switching costs. It is why people complain about Instagram and still doom-scroll reels every morning.
Big Tech knows how far they can push before you quit. They optimize to that edge, testing your tolerance while giving you just enough validation to stay. If you delete your accounts or go offline, you pay a cost; cultural exile. Memes, jokes, music trends, news, your friends’ milestones, they happen in there. Leaving can feel like losing your passport to the global conversation.
These apps merge exploitation with identity. Your friendships and creative work live inside someone else’s walls. You can “export” your data, but that data is dead. The relationships, visibility, and network effects stay locked inside.
But what if there was somewhere else to go? What if the social internet belonged to us instead of a few corporations?
So what even Is the AT Protocol?
If you’ve heard of Bluesky, you’ve already seen the AT Protocol in action. It’s the foundation Bluesky runs on, but it’s much bigger than any single app. Bluesky is a microblogging platform that feels similar to Twitter (or X). Some describe it as “liberal Twitter,” but under the hood, it represents something much deeper: the first glimpse of the open social web, and the first of many apps built on the same connected network. Within this network, users share a global view of the social space. You can sign in to multiple apps with the same account, carrying your posts, followers, and identity seamlessly wherever you go.
Think of ATProto as public infrastructure for social media. Like roads, power lines, or the internet itself - anyone can build on top of it, and everything connects through shared standards.
ATProto is open-source, which means it's code is public. Anyone can inspect it, improve it, or build their own app using it. No hidden algorithms, no secret data pipelines - just transparent code that anyone can verify. That openness matters. It keeps power from concentrating in one company’s hands. If a platform turns toxic or shuts down, developers can copy the code, build something new, and users can move there without losing their identities, followers, or content.
It’s the difference between being trapped in a theme park and living in a city. One is privately owned. The other is shared, open, and alive.
How We Got Here: Web 1.0, Web 2.0, and Beyond
To understand why this matters, it helps to explain some historical buzz-words you might have heard:
Web 1.0, the early internet, was open and decentralized. It ran on shared standards like the Internet Protocol (IP). Anyone could host a website, and no single company owned the web. Users had control - you could post, publish, and self-host. It was messy, weird, and free. (Stand-alone websites still run in this way).
Then came Web 2.0, the social era. Broadband made it easy to share photos, videos, and posts in real time. That gave rise to Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, TikTok - the platforms that connected billions. But they also closed the web. Each built its own private mini-internet. Suddenly, your data, identity, and social life all lived inside their servers. The web stopped being something we shared and became something they owned.
When people say Web 3, they usually mean crypto - blockchains, tokens, NFTs - the monetization of everything. There’s genuine innovation there, but it’s still a web built around money, not people.
ATProto sits somewhere in between. It borrows some of Web 3’s cryptographic primitives; verifiable identity, secure signing, and portable data - while blending them with the openness of Web 1.0 and the social connection of Web 2.0. It’s a return to the original spirit of the internet: open, interoperable, and user-owned, rebuilt for the social world we actually live in.
How the AT Protocol Fixes current social.
For a non-technical perspective, I like to think of it in three parts:
1. Account ownership
2. Moderation
3. Algorithms
Together, they make exploitation difficult to sustain.
Account Ownership
On traditional social apps, your account lives on their servers (a server is essentially a computer that manages network resources and provides services to other computers). These apps store and manage your data, your content, your following - everything. If they ban you, shut down, or sell the company to a billionaire with a messiah complex, your account and content vanish with them.
On ATProto, those things are separated. Your account - your identity, posts etc. - can exist independently of any one app. Your account lives on what’s called a Personal Data Server (PDS). You can use the same account across multiple apps, seamlessly. Each app can read and write (with your permission) to your PDS, even if it’s hosted (run and managed) somewhere else. This post you're reading is written on an ATProto blogging app called Leaflet and is stored on my PDS hosted by Bluesky (alongside different types of posts from other ATproto apps). Apps don’t own your data, you do. And because of that, they’re forced to play nicely and interoperate.
Right now, if you sign up for Bluesky, your account is hosted on their PDS by default - same if you sign up for Spark. But you could also choose to host it elsewhere - say, with another app, or even on your own cloud or home server. For example, my colleague Roscoe hosts his account on a PDS in his living room - now that’s control.
The best part? You can move your account to another PDS whenever you want - no permission, no begging support, no “download your data and start over.” If an app goes downhill - too many ads, too much censorship, or it simply shuts down - you just switch. Your followers, your posts, your identity all come with you. Because they don’t live inside that app, they live with you.
That’s a credible exit.
It removes the friction of leaving. It breaks the psychological chain Big Tech relies on - the feeling that you’re stuck because your social life is stuck there. It sounds small, but it’s massive: for the first time, apps have to earn their users instead of trapping them.
Moderation
In Meta's world, one corporation decides what counts as acceptable speech for billions of people. That’s absurd. No single company, no matter how “mission-driven”, can fairly moderate the entire human experience.
ATProto changes this. Each app can set its own rules, and users can subscribe to third-party moderation services that layer on top - things like labels, feeds, or block lists that filter out harmful content or accounts. These services can be created and managed by the very communities they aim to protect.
Maybe one app takes a strict approach to hate speech and misinformation. Another focuses on free expression. A third uses community-run filters built by and for specific groups - Black users, 2SLGBTQIA+ users, or anyone who wants safer spaces - without waiting for some executive in Menlo Park to care. After all, who understands a community’s needs better than the people who live in it?
This isn’t chaos; it’s nuance. People can choose moderation that fits their context, community, and values - without losing sight of the larger network or retreating into echo chambers. Every app still shares the same network; each one just curates which parts its users see.
If you don’t like how an app handles moderation, you don’t have to argue with a support bot. You can add another moderation layer or switch to a different app entirely - one that better fits your values or your community.
That’s the power of a credible exit.
Algorithms
The third pillar is feeds - the algorithms that decide what you see.
With incumbent apps, those algorithms are secret and centralized. They reflect the company’s incentives, not yours. On TikTok, the “For You” page isn’t personalized for you holistically - it’s optimized for them. It’s an attention-mining machine that doesn’t care about truth, creativity, or wellbeing. It only cares about how long it can keep you watching.
On ATProto, feeds are open. Anyone can build and run one. You can pick which algorithm you use, or switch between them like playlists. Maybe you want a feed that only shows posts from friends. Or one that spotlights independent artists. Or one curated by someone you trust, not by a faceless AI chasing engagement.
These feeds integrate seamlessly across AT Protocol apps; they’re just as accessible as the default ones the apps build themselves. For example, I don’t love Bluesky’s default Discovery or Following feeds, but a user built a custom “For You” feed that does a much better job of surfacing content I actually care about. The best part? That algorithm isn’t built or run by Bluesky at all - it runs on the developer's home gaming PC.
Anyone can build and share feeds that reflect their values - developers, creators, journalists, or entire communities. Feeds can be educational, artistic, political, or deeply niche. The incentives of feed builders can differ completely from the apps where their feeds appear - and that separation breaks the monopoly on attention. When networks open up, credible information finally has a fair shot. Trusted voices - from local reporters to independent curators can surface verified, high-quality content in real time, free from the profit motives or engagement traps of traditional algorithms. This shift doesn’t just improve discovery - it strengthens democracy. It weakens echo chambers, limits the reach of bad actors, and gives users control over who shapes their view of the world. ATProto makes this possible: platforms like Bluesky provide the rails, curators guide the experience, and users choose what, and who, to trust. The result is a healthier social ecosystem, where information flows freely, transparently, and on human terms.
No single entity can quietly manipulate what billions of people see. No algorithmic overlord can steer culture behind closed doors. It’s transparency. It’s choice. It’s agency over your own digital experience.
But Joe - if some apps still rely on ads, how will this be any different?
Firstly, ATProto opens the door to many business models - subscriptions, tips, donations, cooperatives. Each app becomes a new window into the collective social stream, adding its own perspective and features. I’ll dig into that more next time, but its important to note that every app can innovate freely while preserving what makes social work - a unified identity and a shared network.
That said, there will still be ads. Bluesky doesn’t run any today, but even as a Public Benefit Corporation - legally required to serve the public good - that could change. Spark, the app I’m building, is video-first and video is expensive. We’re exploring multiple business models, but ads will likely play some role and I’m okay with that. Ads aren’t inherently bad - it's the incentives behind them that are.
When the same company owns the platform and the logic deciding what gets seen, everything bends toward profit. Outrage, clickbait, AI slop - all optimized to keep you scrolling, not satisfied. That’s the problem. The key is if we can separate apps from algorithms - decouple ownership from discovery - then ads don’t have to poison the experience. They can surface products you actually want and help creators make a living without turning everyone into influencers. In the right system, ads can fund culture instead of corrupting it.
On Spark, creators will earn from meaningful content. Sure, you won't like every ad you see, but because you have algorithmic choice, you get to decide how much advertising you’re willing to accept for the content you love. Some apps might go fully subscription-based with no ads at all - and that’s fine. People can mix, match, and experiment freely, without fear of losing their audience or identity.
We’re basically building a safeguard into these apps that stops us from enshittifying ourselves. It’s like a dog muzzle for capitalism, a cage for the part of the business that always turns rotten. Lock it up, toss the key, and get back to building something good.
Creators and feed builders control their own ad logic. Maybe the ads are user-made, creative, even funny - because that curator values community over profit. Their reputation and taste matter more than a single payday. That kind of user-driven culture is only possible in an open, shared system. A single feed builder/curator might serve 100,000 users and make a living doing it - crafting something human and intentional. For Meta, 100,000 users is a rounding error, but in open social, that’s a sustainable livelihood. Feed builders can monetize their work independently from any one app’s incentives. That separation gives power back to the people - users choose the feeds that make them feel good, not whatever TikTok’s black box thinks will keep them hooked. Healthy competition keeps the ecosystem honest: creators get paid, users feel better, and incentives stay aligned.
In the long run, closed apps can’t compete. Hiring curators to serve niche communities doesn’t scale. Architectures built on distributed, user-generated algorithms do - and as competition grows, the experience only gets better, better than TikTok can ever be. Don’t like how a feed makes you feel? Change it. You own your data, not them.
Apps are the broadcasters, creators and feed builders are the channels - they choose what to show, how to monetize, and what kind of experience to create. In traditional social, platforms own everything and toss creators a cut. On ATproto, it’s flipped. True creator ownership and a network that sustains itself because everyone shares in the value they create.
Why It Matters
Put it all together and you get an entirely different dynamic:
• Users own their data.
• Apps compete on experience, not lock-in.
• Moderation is community-driven.
• Algorithms are open and replaceable.
The system is locked open by design - no company can close off their user-base. That one architectural choice kills the incentive for enshittification.
The best part? Users don’t need to understand any of it. You don’t have to know what a PDS is or how any of the other components of ATProto work under the hood. What sets the AT Protocol apart from other decentralized networks is its user experience. Signing up feels just like any other app - one account, seamless logins, and effortless content sharing across apps.
Competition is key, not just between algorithms but between the apps themselves. ATProto gives new developers a real shot. Apps can tap into the network from day one, with no need to start from zero. They get instant network effects, flipping the economics of social startups on their head. Developers don’t need to build for billions. They can serve smaller, niche communities and still be sustainable, because they can plug into the larger network without friction. What they build is limited only by creativity, opening up new ways for people to connect and share online. These apps don’t just compete; they interoperate. Feeds and posts move freely between them, creating kinds of collaboration and content sharing that closed systems could never allow. Lower barriers to entry mean more competition, and that means better products, better ideas, and better experiences for everyone. That’s how real innovation happens - when gatekeepers can’t hoard the network effects anymore.
Instead of monopolies that farm your attention, we get ecosystems that reward creativity, authenticity, and alignment with actual human values. When leaving a toxic platform doesn’t mean leaving your identity or your culture behind, you don’t have to disappear to escape exploitation. You can take your digital self with you - and keep building a healthier internet on your own terms.
Conclusion
I believe the internet is a force for good - it’s just been corrupted along the way. It’s not the tech that failed us, it’s the profit-driven systems that warped it. The internet democratized music, entertainment, journalism, education, art and more. It created new economies and gave voices to people who never had access before.
I live on the other side of the world from my family, and being able to see their faces anytime is a miracle. I share art, laugh with friends, watch their lives unfold, discover new music, stumble on ideas that change how I think. I’ve seen how beautiful online connection can be, but those moments are fading. People feel it - social media usage outside the U.S. has been dropping since 2022. The novelty’s gone. We’re tired of being mined.
It doesn’t have to be this way. If the current platforms keep decaying, people will leave entirely. They’d be right to. But we can build something worth staying for. Will open-social apps rake in Meta-level profits? Probably not - and that’s fine. It can be profitable without being predatory. Creators, developers, advertisers, and users can all win without exploiting psychology. I’m not trying to be a billionaire, but I believe it’s either open social media or none at all.
Social media can be the bridge again. A channel where truth cuts through noise. Where young people with phones and courage expose corruption and genocide while also spreading art, joy and connection. ATProto is inherently censorship-resistant - you choose what you see, not corporations, not governments, not regimes.
ATProto isn't just a social media alternative, its infrastructure for human connection. It can power apps for events, local discovery, commerce, and culture - encouraging the meaningful parts of life that happen offline. It’s a digital identity that complements your real one, not replaces it. Open social won’t fix everything overnight. But here’s the difference: this time, you can leave. You can take your data, your identity, your friends, and walk into something better. That’s the future worth betting on - one where the internet feels human again. Where people build because they love to build, not because a quarterly target demands more screen time.
Let's build something better. Let's put the 'social' back in social media.
We already are.
SOURCES:
Some meaningful evidence of enshittification I’d like to present.