Web Browsers, AI, and the Politics of Media Power
The left keeps building media strategies on top of platforms built to undermine them. As browsers are rebuilt for mass surveillance and manipulation, the systems that decide what people see and who gets heard are being rewritten without us. Control over the browser is control over political reality.
As I was writing the last post exploring how the left can build media ecosystems to challenge right‑wing dominance, I kept thinking about the power structures the right has already captured, including platforms and communication channels, and the ones that remain open to intervention. Seeing and naming these openings is one of the first steps toward building lasting political power on the left.
Web browsers are one of these points. And until now, they’ve been among the most strategically overlooked opportunities to redefine the terrain of the culture wars.
Browsers as a Strategic Lever
At first glance, this might seem like a post about web browser development as software projects. While this is technically true, the real subject is infrastructure. Who it serves, how it works, and who decides.
These aren’t technical questions. They’re questions of governance.
Most people, including many technologists, treat browsers as background noise, a solved problem, a neutral tool. Yet browsers hold strategic political relevance. The rules they enforce and the defaults they set shape what people can see, do, and build online.
If we want to defend the ability of people to organize, dissent, and govern themselves, the browser is one of the most consequential levers within reach.
Why Browsers Hold My Attention
I’ve been tracking the evolution of web browsers since they became a thing. I spent hours with Mosaic derivatives and small experimental shells that introduced crazy new ideas like "tabbed browsing". Growing up in the 90s, I tried every tool that offered a new way to touch the web.
When I first installed Phoenix 0.3, the browser that would become Firefox, the internet was supposedly dead. It was the early 2000s, after the dot com crash, and much of the tech industry had turned its attention elsewhere. I was not watching the companies. I was watching the platforms, the protocols, and the people behind them.
Browsers were never just software to me. They represent freedom, exploration, and possibility. They are how I learned to think, create, connect, and organize. I grew up alongside the open web, and I felt, before I could even name it, that the browser was where the rules of that freedom lived.
Over time I noticed a pattern: changes in browser capabilities shaped what got built, and what got built shaped how people interacted, organized, and imagined what was possible, both online and in their lives. For decades, the browser has functioned as a quiet, upstream site of global governance.
This is why I keep coming back to browsers as a topic of near-obsession. Not out of nostalgia, but because I’ve felt, for over thirty years, that this is a critical layer where human possibility is either expanded or constrained. And it’s still one of the few places in tech where people outside corporations can help decide which way it goes.
Where the Web’s Rules Are Written
Browsers do more than display the web. They enforce the rules that define how we experience it:
- Which content and code can load or is blocked
- How data is shared, siloed, or leaked
- How consent is handled or bypassed
- Which extensions and tools can shape the experience
- How visible, traceable, or protected our activity becomes
These rules are governance decisions, not technical inevitabilities. They’re set by browser vendors, standards committees, and developer ecosystems, and they determine who holds power in the digital environment. In a moment when authoritarian movements are consolidating control over media and communications, this layer is a front line.
Unlike most of the modern tech stack, browsers remain semi‑public and contestable. Standards bodies and open‑source projects leave narrow but real openings for influence. Whoever steps into those openings decides whether the web becomes a tool for surveillance and control, or a space where people can still connect, organize, resist, and (re)build.
The Fight Over Browsers Has Reopened
For years, the browser space seemed frozen. Chrome dominated. Firefox declined in slow motion. Apple’s walled gardens stayed locked. Smaller Chromium forks made privacy tweaks, but nothing challenged the structural power of Google or Apple. To most people, the browser felt like background, settled infrastructure you did not have to think about.
But the fight never actually stopped. Quiet battles over standards, defaults, and data kept shaping who held power online. Now those battles are breaking into the open. The browser field is active again in a way we haven’t seen in years, with new projects appearing and major players making bold, high‑stakes moves.
Two opposing forces are driving this shift:
- Backlash against surveillance capitalism
- The rush to make AI the primary interface to the web
AI is rapidly changing the browser itself. Edge now runs Copilot Mode, which can summarize information across your tabs and act on it. Chrome is adding Gemini‑powered assistance that operates directly in the browser. Perplexity’s Comet goes further, turning the address bar into a task runner that reads, summarizes, and completes multi‑step actions like booking or ordering. The Browser Company’s Dia browser experiments with agents that read and act across your workflow, and OpenAI is reportedly building its own AI‑first browser designed to capture context and guide behavior from the inside out. All this within the past two months.
Meanwhile, the privacy‑focused “resistance” browsers still mostly treat the user as an isolated node. They can block ads or trackers, but they don’t create collective leverage or movement infrastructure.
Industry moves are unfolding alongside politics, accelerating in visibility after years of quiet background maneuvering. Major tech companies are embedding AI into browsers to entrench dominance while influencing policy to avoid accountability. In the United States, House leaders pushed for a ten year pause on state AI regulation before the Senate stripped it out. Around the world, authoritarian movements align with this corporate consolidation, taking advantage of default settings that favor surveillance and weak regulatory oversight. Regulators are now considering remedies that could reach as far as forcing Google to divest Chrome, which underscores how contested the browser layer has become.
All of this flows back to people’s daily lives. If your browser decides what loads first, what is hidden, and which AI agent shapes your choices, it is already mediating your access to information, your privacy, and your ability to organize. Every news story you read, every coordination tool you rely on, and every attempt to dissent or self govern runs through this layer.
The browser is no longer passive infrastructure. It is a front line in the fight to preserve human rights, resist surveillance, and keep open the possibility of collective self‑determination online.
This is a strategic inflection point: the rules of the web are being rewritten in real time. Whether the browser becomes a tool of public empowerment or a channel for global authoritarianism will depend on who shows up to fight for it.
Browsers Are the Missing Layer in Media Power
Emerging conversations about building left-aligned media focus on creators, platforms, and revenue models. All of that sits on top of a layer most people ignore, the browser.
Browsers are the gateway. They decide what loads, what is filtered or flagged, and how attention flows. If the left builds new media without shaping this layer, every effort will remain vulnerable to the defaults set by corporate and right‑aligned infrastructure.
Browsers are where rules still move, where standards can be contested, and where public‑interest influence is still possible. Treating them as political infrastructure is the difference between building media that survives and media that can be quietly muted or erased. This is where organizers, technologists, and funders can act to ensure the browser serves people and movements, not the forces working to silence and control them.
If you're building browsers, protocols, or movement media, or if you want to, I’d love to connect. This post is one part of a longer arc. I’ll be sharing more soon about how browser infrastructure could evolve to support new forms of collective action, data self-determination, and stronger foundations for the social web we actually need.
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-Lyre Calliope