1. The Ghost in the Wi-Fi Machine
Alexis Ohanian helped build Reddit — the world’s largest shrine to both brilliance and degeneracy — and now he says “much of the internet is dead.”
That’s like Frankenstein looking at his monster and going, “Yeah, maybe I over-did it with the lightning.”
Ohanian’s diagnosis isn’t wrong, though. Scroll long enough and you’ll notice: every meme, every quote, every “deep thought” seems like it was stitched together by a robot that learned English by reading bathroom graffiti and LinkedIn posts. The digital soul has been replaced by something “quasi-AI.” Translation: we’re not sure if it’s human, but it sure does sound confident about its “personal growth journey.”
It’s the same vibe as hearing a stranger say “I just love authentic connection” — you instinctively check for a sponsor tag.
2. The Dead Internet Theory: Not a Theory, a Documentary
“Dead internet theory” used to sound like conspiracy-forum nonsense — the idea that bots outnumber humans online, that engagement metrics are inflated, that you’re arguing with an algorithm and calling it “cousin Dave.”
Now, it’s starting to feel less like paranoia and more like daily life.
Bots retweeting bots, influencers using AI to “maintain authenticity,” and every comment section looking like a Turing Test gone wrong. Half the time, you can’t tell if you’re debating a person or a large language model that just discovered sarcasm.
Sam Altman himself — the guy literally selling the tools that zombified the web — admitted that Twitter (sorry, X) is now full of “LLM-run accounts.” That’s like a pyromaniac telling you he’s worried about all the fires lately.
3. The Rise of the Quasi-AI Persona
“Quasi-AI” is Ohanian’s polite term for the uncanny valley we now live in. It’s not quite robot, not quite human — just humanoid enough to make you doubt your sanity.
LinkedIn, the land of “synergy” and “mindset,” has become ground zero for digital necromancy. Every day, thousands of AI interns crank out essays titled “Why Failing Forward Is Actually Winning Backward.” And people applaud. Because somewhere deep down, the real humans forgot how to sound human, too.
You can tell who’s real online by how badly they type. Misspellings, typos, and unfiltered chaos are the new authenticity. Grammar has become the enemy of proof-of-life.
4. Proof of Life: Now with Captchas
Ohanian says the internet needs “proof of life.”
That’s a chilling phrase. We’ve reached the stage where to participate in discourse, you must verify you still possess a pulse.
Imagine the next generation of social media: before posting, you take a deep breath into your mic, and the app checks your CO₂ output. Fail the test and your account gets reclassified as “semi-synthetic.”
“Verifiably human” platforms are the new frontier — until, of course, bots learn to simulate respiration. At which point, we’ll just start mailing each other Polaroids and calling it innovation.
5. The Human Extinction in Real Time
Ohanian’s nostalgia hits a nerve: the early internet was messy, creative, and deeply weird. Forums, fan pages, blogs — places where humans overshared for free instead of optimizing for reach.
Then came metrics, then came algorithms, then came the Great Homogenization. The web got colonized by engagement farmers. Every thought had to trend, every post needed a call-to-action, every photo needed the right ratio of skin to sky.
Now, instead of connection, we get content. Instead of voices, we get output.
The average timeline is a graveyard of recycled takes — once-lively ideas, now embalmed in SEO.
6. Group Chats: Humanity’s Last Refuge (for Now)
Ohanian thinks the real conversations have migrated to group chats — the last surviving ecosystem of actual humans.
He’s not wrong. Group chats are where truth still breathes: where memes are born, reputations die, and no one pretends to “optimize their personal brand.”
They’re chaotic, personal, and gloriously off-the-record. Which, of course, means Big Tech is already trying to ruin them.
AI is creeping into group chats now, “helping” you write texts, “summarizing” threads, “auto-correcting” emotions. Imagine confessing your love to someone and your phone revises it into a LinkedIn announcement:
“Excited to share that I’m entering a new romantic collaboration with Jessica!”
7. The Corporate Seance
When Ohanian says the internet’s dead, he’s also implicating the corporations that embalmed it.
The platforms that once promised “connection” now sell us ghost towns haunted by engagement metrics.
Twitter died when authenticity became a subscription tier. Instagram died when every photo turned into an ad for fake wellness. Facebook died when your aunt started sharing memes about Bill Gates microchipping lettuce.
Even Reddit — Ohanian’s own Frankenstein — feels like a taxidermied version of its former self. The subreddits are still there, but the soul’s been replaced by SEO bots answering in full paragraphs.
We’ve built the largest library in human history, and half the books are auto-generated “Top 10 Ways to Grow Your Brand” manifestos.
8. The Death of Discovery
Once upon a time, you’d stumble into corners of the web that felt like secret gardens: Geocities pages, obscure forums, chaotic DeviantArt galleries. Now, you stumble into AI-generated clones of each other — all optimized, monetized, sanitized.
Search engines don’t show you the internet anymore; they show you the ad inventory. Try Googling anything today, and the first five pages are either affiliate links or machine-written content pretending to be “research.”
It’s not the “information age” anymore. It’s the approximation age — where truth is whatever ranks highest.
9. When the Bots Start Grieving
Here’s the delicious irony: we’re mourning the death of the internet on the dead internet. We write heartfelt posts about losing connection — right next to an ad for AI companionship apps.
Even grief has been automated. When someone dies, the algorithm keeps resurfacing their posts as “memories.” When a celebrity passes, AI tribute videos are churned out within hours — complete with fake tears and royalty-free piano music.
It’s not the end of humanity. It’s the rerun.
10. How We All Became NPCs
Remember when gamers mocked NPCs — characters that just looped dialogue and routines? That’s most of us now. We wake up, scroll, post, repeat.
The algorithm rewards predictability, so we become predictable. The “For You” page is a mirror that says, “You like this, don’t you?” And we nod, drooling.
Even rebellion’s been monetized. Edginess comes with a merch store. Outrage comes pre-sponsored. The revolution is available in four pastel colorways with affirmations embossed on the box.
11. The Cult of Engagement
The dead internet isn’t just a tech problem; it’s a cultural one. We traded authenticity for applause.
Every platform promises “community,” but what it really sells is dopamine. Every like, share, and comment is a micro-dose of validation. The algorithm doesn’t care if you’re happy — only if you’re active.
We’ve built a religion around engagement, and the only heresy left is logging off.
12. Meanwhile, in the Corporate Cloud
Sam Altman, Ohanian’s philosophical sparring partner, is busy trying to make sure no human ever feels bored again. AI everywhere, all the time — your friend, your therapist, your co-writer, your co-parent.
It’s the ultimate paradox: the people profiting from automating humanity now mourn its loss. That’s like oil companies sponsoring climate conferences.
They’ll say, “We want AI to help people connect again!” and then roll out 10 million chatbots that all sound like slightly apologetic HR reps.
13. Nostalgia: The New Punk Rock
Ohanian isn’t just nostalgic for the old internet — he’s nostalgic for the old humans. The ones who overshared without hashtags, who built forums about niche hobbies, who coded websites just to say “I exist.”
That chaos was beautiful. It was messy, glitchy, and full of soul. Now we have perfectly optimized feeds and perfectly hollow experiences.
If the 2000s internet was a dive bar, today’s is a mall kiosk that asks for your email before showing you memes.
14. Why the Internet Died (A Forensic Report)
Let’s perform the autopsy.
Cause of Death:
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Asphyxiation by algorithm.
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Complications from influencer culture.
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Chronic exposure to engagement farming.
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Acute lack of irony.
Time of Death:
Sometime between when Facebook made everyone’s parents join and when TikTok convinced people to cook chicken in NyQuil.
Manner of Death:
Self-inflicted. We fed the machine with clicks, and it ate our culture whole.
15. Resurrection by Verification
Ohanian dreams of a “verifiably human” internet — a new generation of social platforms that can prove there’s a heartbeat behind every post.
It’s a noble idea. But here’s the kicker: we already had that. It was called being normal.
Instead of inventing biometric posting systems, maybe we could just… stop automating everything. Let people post dumb stuff again. Let them argue, flirt, typo, meme, and move on.
Authenticity can’t be coded — it has to be allowed.
16. The Irony of the Builders
There’s a poetic tragedy in watching the architects of the digital world mourn its decay.
Ohanian built Reddit — a site that democratized content and then watched democracy eat itself. Altman built AI — a tool to augment humanity that’s now replacing it.
Both are now warning us about the consequences of their inventions, like magicians complaining their rabbits have unionized.
The truth is, you can’t automate connection. You can mimic it, simulate it, and monetize it — but you can’t make it real unless there’s risk, awkwardness, and imperfection.
That’s the part tech can’t replicate: the unpolished humanity that makes communication worth having.
17. The Great Re-Humanization (Maybe)
Maybe Ohanian’s right — maybe we’re on the brink of a new kind of social internet, one that demands proof of life.
Imagine a platform that rewards slowness, imperfection, and honesty. One where typos are badges of honor and “going viral” is considered a moral failing.
It sounds impossible — which means it might actually work. The pendulum always swings back. After decades of curation and optimization, authenticity feels revolutionary again.
The internet might not need a resurrection — just a reminder that being alive is the point.
18. Meanwhile, in the Comments
Predictably, when Ohanian said “the internet is dead,” half the internet argued about whether he said it authentically or as a marketing strategy for his next venture.
That’s the meta-joke of our time: even our eulogies come with hashtags.
Every hot take about the death of the web becomes another click, another impression, another pulse on the corpse. The internet can’t die if we keep reviving it for engagement.
We’re not burying it — we’re embalming it in discourse.
19. The Final Scroll
If the internet truly is dead, then we’re the ghosts haunting it — endlessly reposting, resharing, rephrasing.
We’re haunting our own creation, whispering into the algorithm, hoping someone still listening is real.
Maybe “proof of life” isn’t about CAPTCHAs or cryptographic IDs. Maybe it’s just about saying something so human, so irrational, that no machine could fake it.
Something like:
“I miss when websites looked terrible.”
or
“I just want to post without a purpose again.”
That’s the heartbeat Ohanian’s talking about — the reminder that connection isn’t a metric, it’s a miracle.
20. Epilogue: The Dead Internet Speaks
If the internet could talk (and let’s be honest, it already does), it would probably say:
“You made me this way.”
And we’d reply:
“Yeah, but you were so addictive.”
Maybe that’s our toxic love story — we killed the internet by trying to make it perfect. Now we miss the chaos.
The good news? Chaos is hard to kill. Somewhere, right now, a human is typing an unhinged rant in Comic Sans on a forgotten blog. Somewhere, a Reddit thread just derailed into philosophy. Somewhere, someone’s still human enough to care.
Maybe that’s enough proof of life for today.