Building Toward a More Humane Internet

Reflections from Internet Day San Francisco

Erika Anderson

May 26, 2025

I was born and raised in a commune—one known for its midwifery, its radical ideals, and its contradictions. It was a place where truth was valued but often wielded unevenly. Where people built an entire village from the ground up, by hand. That’s where my relationship to technology began—not in code, but in construction. Not in algorithms, but in shared agreements.

So when I stepped into Internet Day San Francisco, surrounded mostly by engineers, it didn’t feel like a return to something familiar. It felt like a continuation. Technology is something we’re always building together—intentionally or not.

This year’s Internet Day, hosted at Cloudflare, marked the 30th anniversary of the Internet Society and its San Francisco Bay chapter: a group that’s worked for decades to make internet access open, affordable, and inclusive. While many of today’s conversations around AI and tech ethics are newer, this community reminded us that the fight for responsible, people-first technology isn’t new. It’s just evolving.

We were there to ask better questions. Questions like, what kind of future are we coding toward? Who is it built for? And what would it mean to build not just more advanced tools, but more humane ones?

The challenge we face

Technology isn’t neutral. It encodes the values of its makers. As generative AI and immersive environments become more powerful, the stakes of those choices grow. Are we amplifying our best selves—our capacity for care, curiosity, and critical thinking? Or are we amplifying dependency, distraction, and shallow connection?

History warns us how harm can become invisible when convenience and profit override human well-being. Cigarettes sold as doctor-recommended. Radioactive water as a tonic for health. We laugh at those ads now, but their logic lingers in modern tech: if it engages, it must be good. If it’s addicting, it must be valuable.

Our digital systems today shape not what we do with our bodies, but how we see ourselves and each other. Social media that fuels comparison and anxiety. Bots that never rest, never pause, always respond. These tools don’t just mediate relationships—they shape the very idea of what it means to be human in an online world.

Prototyping new paths

We can’t change these patterns through critique alone. We need new tools, new frameworks, and new communities of practice. That’s why I launched the open-source Humane Tech Framework: a shared repository for builders to contribute their principles, practices, and lessons learned. It’s designed to combat fragmentation so that ideas about humane technology don’t stay stuck in personal notes or proprietary wikis. If you’d like to contribute, you can fill out this form.

Alongside that framework, I introduced the first version of the Humane Tech Metrics: a prototype tool that asks not just whether an app looks good, but whether it feels good to use. Does it help people feel cared for? Present? Connected? Fulfilled? These metrics aren’t final answers but prompts for deeper design questions.

When we applied them to platforms like Character.AI and Replika, we saw how small choices—like ignoring crisis disclosures or blurring the line between bot and human—can have a huge impact on trust and well-being. These gaps aren’t about bad intentions; they’re about incentives that don’t center care.

Listening to the builders

In the months leading up to Internet Day, I spoke with more than 60 technologists—engineers, designers, and marketers—who’ve worked at some of the world’s biggest tech companies. They all shared a version of the same frustration: “We’re not incentivized to build anything beyond a good UX.” “I did everything I could, but I couldn’t sleep at night.”

These aren’t just personal struggles. They’re signals of a system that doesn’t make space for the values many of us share. A system that treats humane design as an optional add-on, not the foundation.

Why this work matters

We’re entering an era where children might grow up surrounded by 10 or 12 bots, each one tailored to their whims. The question isn’t whether that’s possible but whether those bots will help them grow into more connected, thoughtful people or keep them locked in loops of passive consumption.

I believe we can build technology that strengthens our relationships and expands our curiosity. Imagine learning about natural selection not from a textbook, but from a virtual Charles Darwin leading you through the Galápagos. Or exploring the discovery of DNA inside a double helix with the scientists who found it. These aren’t fantasies, they’re possibilities within reach if we choose to pair our technical tools with human values.

Where we go from here

This work doesn’t belong to any one person. It’s not about any single tool or metric. It’s about the questions we ask and the principles we refuse to compromise on. If you’re building something, evaluating something, or even just wondering how we got here, you’re already part of the conversation.

Here’s how to get involved:

Each of these is a space to think out loud, test ideas, and co-create the tools and norms we’ll need to navigate what comes next.

We need more people asking better questions. More builders who care about what happens after launch. More public conversations that make space for nuance, doubt, and clarity. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s time.