Just how blue is the sky for Bluesky?
Bluesky is pitching itself as an alternative to the social media behemoths, but the history of the internet is littered with notable failures, says Paul Armstrong
Bluesky has drawn sharp attention, pitching itself as the anti-social media — a decentralised network that hands control back to its +25m users including news organizations, politicians, celebrities and people who just want a ‘clean’ feed. Born in 2019 from a Twitter X experiment, Bluesky is powered by its standout feature, the AT Protocol. A loose analogy? Think of it as a post office: you can use any branch (platform) and your mail (content and identity) still reaches its destination. Bluesky promises to free online spaces from corporate control, promote transparency and connect platforms seamlessly. It’s part of a story of rebellion and innovation in one. Sounds ideal, doesn’t it?
Not quite. Beneath the surface, reality bites. Like many social platforms, Bluesky’s utopian pitch sidesteps the hard truths. Decentralisation, moderation, governance, and scalability aren’t minor inconveniences — they’re existential issues for any digital network. Bluesky may want to disrupt Big Tech’s grip, but it risks inheriting or amplifying the very problems it seeks to fix.
The AT Protocol is designed to give users autonomy, allowing them to control their identities and move freely between platforms. On paper, it smashes Big Tech’s walled gardens. In practice, shifting control from corporations to users doesn’t guarantee a solution. Decentralisation disperses responsibilities like security, safety, and content moderation — tasks most users and communities are ill-equipped to handle effectively.
Scalability is another looming challenge. While decentralisation suits niche platforms, managing a vast, diverse ecosystem is a different beast. Bluesky’s ambitious vision for user-driven networks collides with the harsh reality of moderating millions of users across loosely linked nodes. Bluesky’s COO, Rose Wang, recently confirmed plans to launch a subscription service by late 2024. Whether enough users will pay remains to be seen.
The problem with moderation
Moderation is where Bluesky’s idealism begins to crack. Its decentralised model leaves communities to self-govern, creating fragmented standards. Some groups might enforce strict rules against harmful content, while others tolerate or encourage it under the guise of free expression. This fractured approach makes Bluesky vulnerable to toxic subcultures, harassment and exploitation. Verification tools are scarce or unofficial, and its early oversight failures — like permitting racial slurs in usernames — highlight the pitfalls of inadequate moderation.
Decentralised moderation assumes a level of community competence that history disproves. Managing harassment, disinformation and illegal activity demands rapid responses and specialised tools. Most communities lack the resources, expertise or willingness to tackle these issues. Platforms from MySpace to Facebook have learned that moderation isn’t just difficult; it’s expensive and, more often than not, highlights issues they’d rather keep quiet. Without centralised oversight, moderation becomes chaos — and that’s precisely what Bluesky seeks to avoid. Jack Dorsey himself admitted in May 2024 that Bluesky was “repeating all the mistakes [Twitter] made”.
Algorithmic transparency is another of Bluesky’s bold claims. It lets users choose or build algorithms, avoiding the opaque engagement traps of platforms like Facebook or Tiktok. While empowering on the surface, it risks deepening divides. Most users will default to pre-set options, inadvertently recreating centralised control. For those who do customise, the result could be even tighter echo chambers.
Interoperability — the promise of seamless movement across platforms — raises equally tough questions. Sharing data between platforms introduces security and privacy vulnerabilities. Without universal standards, users may be exposed to inconsistent safeguards, or worse, exploitation by malicious actors. Interoperability could easily become a security headache rather than the liberation tool Bluesky envisions.
Bluesky’s governance is also a conundrum. Decentralisation doesn’t eliminate power; it redistributes it to early adopters, developers and technical elites. These groups risk creating new hierarchies, mirroring the corporate structures Bluesky aims to dismantle. Without clear governance structures, decision-making becomes erratic, favouring those who understand the system over the average user.
Financial sustainability poses another challenge. Bluesky’s rejection of traditional advertising is admirable, but running a platform isn’t cheap. Subscriptions or donations may fill the gap, but these create barriers. If core features sit behind a paywall, it undermines the vision of an inclusive, open platform. Even with a subscription model launching soon, its viability remains untested.
Right now, many users simply want an alternative to Musk’s X and Zuckerberg’s Threads, and Bluesky is capitalising on that sentiment. But this advantage won’t last forever
The social internet is littered with noble failures, from Mastodon to Diaspora. Decentralised platforms often struggle to match the convenience, polish and user experience of centralised giants. Threads, for instance, is learning the hard way that reinvention without user-centred features and innovation breeds apathy. Bluesky may face a similar fate unless it reconciles its ideals with practical realities.
Bluesky’s ambition is undeniable, and, full disclosure, I enjoy using it to replicate what I left behind on X. However, ambition alone won’t suffice in 2025. Governance, moderation and inclusivity are hard issues Bluesky must address. Decentralisation doesn’t inherently solve misinformation, abuse, or online harm — history tells us it often exacerbates them.
Right now, many users simply want an alternative to Musk’s X and Zuckerberg’s Threads, and Bluesky is capitalising on that sentiment. But this advantage won’t last forever. Without meaningful solutions to these foundational issues, Bluesky risks becoming another footnote in the history of digital platforms — an idealistic experiment undone by its own contradictions. Jay Graber, Bluesky’s CEO, has vowed not to make the mistakes of previous platforms, but can it get out of its head and into the real world?
Paul Armstrong is founder of TBD Group and author of Disruptive Technologies