"This Is for Everyone: The Unfinished Story of the World Wide Web" opens with the reminder that the internet we depend on today is far from the one its creator originally imagined. Tim Berners-Lee designed the web as an open, decentralized system where ideas could flow freely, linking in the same intuitive way human thought moves. He wanted a platform that encouraged curiosity, collaboration, and problem-solving. Yet over the past decades, the web has gradually shifted toward the opposite: concentrated control in the hands of a few corporations, business models rooted in monetizing attention, and systems that feed polarization rather than cooperation. The book examines not only how the web came to be but also how it can be reclaimed for the purpose it was invented for - serving people rather than exploiting them.
Berners-Lee’s worldview was shaped long before he began building the web. Growing up in London in the 1950s, he lived in a household filled with circuitry, logic puzzles, and the buzz of early computing. His parents were mathematicians and electronic engineers who had worked with the very first commercial computer, and their stories included figures like Alan Turing - whose ideas on computation indirectly influenced the young Tim. At school he immersed himself in math and science fiction, drawn to imagined worlds built from logic and technology. By the time he attended Oxford, he was already tinkering with homemade computers, assembling devices from discarded parts and teaching himself how information systems worked at a fundamental level.
His first major turning point came when he began working at CERN in Geneva in 1980. Although the particle physics labs were filled with enormous scientific machinery, what captivated him was the daily exchange of ideas among scientists from different cultures. He became fascinated with the challenge of helping information spread as naturally as conversation. His early experiment, a program called 'Enquire,' allowed users to link notes together in branching ways, planting the first seed of what would eventually become hypertext. At CERN he realized that a truly powerful information system had to welcome every format, language, and machine - a universal platform that hid complexity beneath simple, intuitive connections.
As the 1990s approached, the pieces clicked into place. With support from colleagues and armed with a NeXT computer provided by a forward-thinking supervisor, he built the tools that formed the backbone of the web: HTML to structure information, HTTP to fetch it, and URLs to identify it. The first web browser and editor rolled these pieces into a coherent system that anyone could learn. His vision was not merely technical; he wanted a network where the structure grew from how people used it rather than predetermined rules. When he and collaborator Robert Cailliau demonstrated the system at a hypertext conference in 1991, audiences could sense the paradigm shift. Within just a few years, traffic to their CERN server grew from a handful of requests to tens of thousands per day.
But Berners-Lee quickly saw a looming danger: whoever controlled the standards could control the web. Early developers and companies were already looking for ways to lock users into proprietary tools or charge licensing fees. To prevent the web from fragmenting or falling under corporate control, CERN made a radical decision in 1993 - they released the foundational software and protocols into the public domain. Anyone could build on them freely. Browsers multiplied, with projects like ViolaWWW and Mosaic attracting millions of new users. Yet as the web expanded, tensions grew between open experimentation and corporate attempts to steer the evolution of features and standards. To create a neutral space for defining how the web should work, Berners-Lee helped establish the World Wide Web Consortium (W3C), ensuring that all stakeholders - from startups to global corporations - had an equal voice.
As the web surged into mainstream culture, it became a playground for creativity. Personal sites, online communities, and new design standards like CSS pushed the medium forward. Geocities neighborhoods, Craigslist’s simplicity, and the rise of blogs showcased the web’s democratic spirit. But alongside the creativity came darker forces. Browser wars escalated, and behind them lurked technologies like third-party cookies - data snippets originally meant for convenience but soon repurposed to track users across sites. These tracking tools became the backbone of targeted advertising, enabling organizations to influence behavior, shape political messaging, and ignite social division. The same web that once symbolized openness began to morph into a system that rewarded manipulation.
Still, Berners-Lee remained committed to expanding access and defending human rights online. With his wife, Rosemary Leith, he created the Web Foundation to promote open access worldwide. Their work took them to classrooms in Rwanda and farms in Burkina Faso, where connectivity transformed communities and demonstrated the web’s potential as a force for empowerment. To guide global principles, the foundation drafted the Contract for the Web, outlining responsibilities for governments, companies, and citizens to protect privacy, accessibility, and democracy. But the growth of smartphones and social platforms introduced new vulnerabilities. The web became simultaneously more powerful and more fragile, capable of fueling revolutions yet also enabling authoritarian regimes and unethical data harvesting.
The rise of artificial intelligence introduced another turning point. Advances from research groups like DeepMind demonstrated AI’s potential to solve problems - from protein folding to medical analysis - but also raised fears about deepfakes, misinformation, and opaque data use. Once again, Berners-Lee saw the need for systems rooted in user control. His response was Solid, a decentralized platform built around personal data pods. Under this framework, individuals - not companies - would decide who could access their information. Applications, including AI assistants, would request temporary permission to use specific data, and users could revoke access at any time. It was a return to his original vision: technology serving people, not silently surveilling them.
Solid hinted at a possible future where AI tools work in partnership with individuals rather than mining their private lives. Instead of being tracked across platforms, users would direct their own data flows. Early adopters have begun exploring such decentralized alternatives through platforms like Mastodon, Matrix, and Bluesky, which demonstrate that networks built on open standards can still thrive. The movement resembles the early days of the web - small communities planting the seeds of a healthier digital ecosystem.
In "This Is for Everyone: The Unfinished Story of the World Wide Web", Tim Berners-Lee offers not only a history of the web’s creation but also an argument for its renewal. He shows how a curious child surrounded by logic circuits grew into the architect of a technology that reshaped the world, and how that invention thrived only because it remained open to all. He charts the shifts that turned an idealistic network into a system fueled by tracking, advertising, and political manipulation. Yet he also outlines a path forward - one where decentralized platforms, ethical standards, and user-controlled data can restore trust and reshape the web into the tool it was always meant to be. The book ends with the reminder that the unfinished story of the web is still being written, and that its future depends on decisions we make today.