Is Internet Access a Human Right? Exploring the Debate from Philosophy to Reality

Technology and philosophy have been at the center of more debates lately than ever before. It’s clear that technology is advancing faster than anyone would have imagined a decade ago, while an argument could be made that the philosophies that brought the world this far are starting to regress to less-civilized times.

In the question of whether or not internet access is a human right or simply a privilege, technology and philosophy collide dramatically.

What began as a theoretical debate in 2012 has become one of the most important questions of our time. Thirteen years of real-world evidence have moved this from abstract philosophy to urgent reality. The stakes couldn’t be higher as 2.6 billion people remain offline while internet shutdowns silence dissent across 39 countries. This is the story of how a debate about technology became a fight for fundamental human freedom.

When Philosophy Met Reality

In January 2012, this collision reached a critical moment. Vinton G. Cerf, Google’s Chief Internet Evangelist and recognized “father of the Internet”, published a compelling New York Times opinion piece titled

“Internet Access Is Not a Human Right.”

His argument was

“technology is an enabler of rights, not a right itself.”

It’s a “gotcha” statement that sidesteps the perception of those fighting for more internet rights. His timing was deliberate as it was just months after a 2011 United Nations report declared internet access a human right, responding to the tremendous role the web played in uprisings across the Middle East and North Africa. Cerf acknowledged the internet was critical but argued that calling it a human right or even a civil right, was taking things too far.

I disagreed then. Thirteen years later, with the evidence of history before us, I disagree even more strongly.

There’s no need to redefine what “human rights” are. According to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, human rights are commonly understood as inalienable fundamental rights to which a person is inherently entitled simply because she or he is a human being. This definition, introduced in the 18th century, fits as well today as it did then.

The philosophical foundation for internet access as a human right finds powerful support in the capabilities approach developed by Nobel laureate Amartya Sen and philosopher Martha Nussbaum.

They gave a framework that has shaped the UN’s Human Development Index since 1990. Their work proves that development isn’t only about money or GDP. It’s about expanding what people can actually do and become. Sen explains.

“Freedom is both the primary objective of development, and the principal means of development,”

Sen’s book Development as Freedom showed that no famine has ever occurred in a functioning democracy. Political freedoms, economic opportunities, and social capabilities are all connected.

Nussbaum’s framework identifies ten central human capabilities that define “a life worthy of human dignity.” Internet access touches virtually all of them, namely giving people access to information and education, letting them form and pursue their own vision of a good life, helping them participate in communities, and providing control over their political and economic futures.

As Nussbaum argues, capabilities are different from having basic resources. Resources mean nothing if you can’t actually use them to do something meaningful. A person without internet access in 2025 lacks not just a tool; they lack the real freedom to participate in economic, political, and social life.

This connects directly to John Rawls’ theory of justice, particularly his idea of “primary goods” meaning the basic stuff every rational person needs to pursue their own vision of a good life. Rawls argued that behind a “veil of ignorance” (where you don’t know what position you’ll have in society) you’d choose principles ensuring everyone has access to fundamental capabilities.

In 2012, this might have seemed theoretical. But in 2025, when 68% of the global population uses the internet for healthcare, jobs, civic participation, and education, would anyone behind that veil choose a society where internet access is optional? Denying it to the remaining 32% is what Rawls would call a fundamental injustice.

Isaiah Berlin’s distinction between negative and positive liberty matters here as well. Negative liberty, freedom from interference, means governments shouldn’t block internet access. But positive liberty, the freedom to actually do something, requires the infrastructure, affordability, and skills to use that access meaningfully.

Berlin warned that emphasizing positive liberty can lead to coercion, but he also recognized that liberty without capability is hollow. Being “free” to access the internet but lacking electricity, devices, or literacy is the kind of empty freedom Berlin himself said wasn’t enough for human flourishing.

The question really comes down to delivery of rights. Rather than playing with semantics, we can observe the results of the years since 2012 and make determinations based on three questions: 

• Is it possible in the near future to create infrastructure making internet access available to nearly everyone worldwide? 
• Would making internet access available worldwide foster positive changes in every culture and society? 
• Are those without internet access less able to prosper?

A World Rewritten in Bandwidth

Between 2012 and 2022, the world witnessed something quite unprecedented. It’s not a coincidence that there seems to be a new uprising against oppression around the world every other month. Oppression isn’t new. The desire to end oppression isn’t new.

The ability to organize, communicate, and learn using the internet is the only variable that changed in the equation. There have been more successful uprisings against powerful government entities in this period than in the previous fifty years combined.

Then came September 2022, and a case that would prove this article’s central point in the most devastating way possible.

Mahsa (Jina) Amini, a 22-year-old Kurdish woman, died in Iranian police custody after being arrested by the morality police. Her death sparked protests across at least 40 Iranian cities, with demonstrators using social media to organize and document state violence in real-time.

The Iranian government’s response revealed exactly what was at stake: Nationwide internet shutdowns, blocking Instagram and WhatsApp, then cutting access to the global internet entirely.

Young Iranian women fought back with remarkable creativity, using TikTok makeup tutorials cleverly coded with political commentary to evade censorship. But the cost was devastating. At least 76 people were killed, over 700 arrested, and seven eventually executed.

The UN declared that internet shutdowns violate fundamental human rights. When governments can just turn off the internet at will, the “right” to internet access becomes meaningless.

Hannah Arendt’s concept of “the right to have rights” hits on the bullseye too. Arendt argued that the most fundamental right is the right to belong to a political community where your voice matters.

In 2025, political communities increasingly exist online. To be excluded from internet access is to be excluded from the spaces where civic discourse, political mobilization, and collective action actually happen. It’s what Arendt called “worldlessness”, being deprived of a place in the world where your opinions matter. When governments shut down the internet during protests, it’s not like they’re only blocking a tool for safety proposes (as they claim they do), they’re cutting citizens off from political life itself.

Michel Foucault’s analysis of power and surveillance becomes chillingly relevant. In Discipline and Punish, Foucault argued that modern power doesn’t just prohibit, it observes and normalizes. The panopticon, Jeremy Bentham’s prison design where inmates are constantly visible but never know if they’re being watched, represents the ultimate form of control.

The internet can function as a panopticon where citizens self-censor knowing they’re watched, or it can be a tool of resistance where visibility exposes injustice. The difference isn’t the technology though, it’s who controls it and how.

Rwanda shows this perfectly as it became Africa’s most connected country with 99% 4G coverage, yet Freedom House documents government surveillance using Pegasus spyware targeting activists and journalists. This is what Foucault would call “docile bodies”, citizens connected but controlled, informed but intimidated.

This takes my discussion to Jürgen Habermas’s idea of the “public sphere”, a space where private individuals come together to debate public concerns, free from state control. The internet promised to be the ultimate public sphere, transcending geography and class.

Yet Habermas warned that the public sphere could be taken over by power and money, transforming real discourse into managed consensus. When governments can shut down the internet at will, when algorithms curate what billions see, when surveillance chills speech, the digital public sphere becomes what Habermas feared: a simulation of democratic discourse rather than the real thing.

Downplaying the importance and amazing abilities of the internet to improve the human condition is dangerous. But equally dangerous is assuming that connectivity alone equals freedom.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

By 2024, the pattern had become undeniable. Governments weaponized connectivity itself. About 296 internet shutdowns occurred across 39 countries, the highest number since monitoring began in 2016.

63 shutdowns happened during protests. Seven countries restricted the internet during elections. These shutdowns cost the global economy $7.69 billion in 2024, with Pakistan alone losing $1.62 billion.

In Kenya’s June 2024 Finance Bill protests, which left 39 dead, internet disruptions showed how quickly digital freedoms can vanish. Myanmar’s military has imprisoned thousands for online speech since its 2021 coup. Freedom House’s 2024 report shows global internet freedom declined for the 14th consecutive year. In 76% of countries with internet access, people have been arrested or imprisoned for online content.

Yet September 2024 also brought a turning point. The UN’s Global Digital Compact was adopted with all 193 member states committing to connect the remaining 2.6 billion people by 2030. Regional alliances including the EU’s Digital Decade and the African Union’s Smart Africa framework have embedded internet access into development goals and human-rights frameworks. The global consensus has solidified.

Now in 2025, the numbers tell the story. Answer to question 1: Is universal infrastructure possible? Definitely yes, though not without challenges. 5.5 billion people are online which is nearly 68% of the global population, yet 2.6 billion remain offline.

Satellite providers like Starlink now operate in 18 African countries, bringing speeds exceeding 100 Mbps to remote areas for telemedicine, online education, and economic opportunity. Global fixed broadband subscriptions reached 1.5 billion in early 2025. The infrastructure challenge is being solved, even if affordability remains critical.

Answer to question 2: Would universal access foster positive change? Debatable in theory, but recent history leans strongly affirmative. The question has been answered through lived experience, not just philosophy.

Answer to question 3: Are those without access less able to prosper? Unfortunately the numbers are brutal. Only 27% of people in low-income countries use the internet, compared to 93% in high-income nations. Fixed broadband in low-income countries costs nearly one-third of average monthly income. Internet costs range from $0.01 per Mbps in Romania to $4.31 in the UAE.

Without internet access, ChatGPT’s 800 million weekly users can access AI-assisted education, healthcare, and employment while billions cannot. The average global internet user spends 33 hours and 23 minutes online per week, accessing services completely unavailable to those without connectivity. Those without internet access are demonstrably less able to prosper.

Peter Singer’s utilitarian ethics provides a compelling framework here. In his essay “Famine, Affluence, and Morality”, Singer argues that if we can prevent something bad from happening without sacrificing anything of comparable moral importance, we ought to do it.

The infrastructure to connect the remaining 2.6 billion people exists. Satellite networks span the globe. The cost of universal access is estimated at $428 billion over ten years which is still less than global military spending in six months.

However, the suffering caused by digital exclusion is immense. Preventable deaths from lack of medical information, poverty from lack of economic opportunity, oppression from lack of organizing tools. By any utilitarian calculation, as Singer has argued, the obligation to provide universal internet access is overwhelming.

But we also need to listen to critics like Shoshana Zuboff, whose concept of “surveillance capitalism” shows how digital rights can be hollowed out from within. In The Age of Surveillance Capitalism, Zuboff argues that the internet has been weaponized to extract behavioral data, predict and modify human behavior, and concentrate unprecedented power in corporate hands.

Zuboff defines surveillance capitalism as

“the unilateral claiming of private human experience as free raw material for translation into behavioral data.”

Internet access as a human right must mean access to an internet that serves human autonomy, not one that treats humans as raw material for data extraction. Connectivity alone won’t cut it, there is a need for strong data protection laws, transparent algorithms, and democratic.

True internet access as a human right must encompass more than infrastructure. It requires five dimensions: 

• Physical networks, devices, and electricity.
• Affordability with pricing within reach.
• Digital literacy so people can navigate online safely. 
• Freedom from censorship to access information without government interference.
• Privacy and security protections guarding against surveillance and data exploitation. 

Without all five, connectivity becomes a tool of control rather than liberation.

As an exercise in comparison, take the words “internet access” out of the three questions above and replace them with “access to medication.” Most would agree that access to medication is a human right, but it has basically the same answers: Number 1, yes though not without challenges. Number 2, debatable but most would lean affirmative. Number 3, personal with general perception of affirmative.

Technology is an enabler as Cerf stated in 2012. In many cases, it’s also a right; the two statuses are not mutually exclusive. Cerf used the example that owning a horse once made making a living easier as the horse was the enabler and making a living was the right. Technology is not a horse. The internet is not a horse. Only a small percentage of people owned horses while a large percentage were able to make a living.

Through Sen’s lens, we can see clearly. Enablers that expand fundamental human freedoms become rights themselves. Internet access in the 21st century isn’t a matter of technology alone, it’s a matter of human dignity, agency, and freedom. It’s about whether a young woman in rural Rwanda can access telemedicine. Whether an Iranian protester can document state violence. Whether a farmer in Nigeria can check crop prices or a student in Zambia can access university lectures.

In this case, I’m siding with the United Nations (something I don’t do very often). Vaulting the internet to the highest plateau as a true human right is a better step towards ending more than just oppression worldwide. It’s a step towards increased opportunity, improved education, and the end of hostilities riding on ignorance.

The philosophers who shaped our understanding of justice, freedom, and human dignity, namely Sen, Nussbaum, Rawls, Berlin, Arendt, Habermas, Foucault, Singer, Zuboff, all wrote before the internet existed or during its infancy.

Yet their frameworks show us exactly why internet access must be recognized as a human right in 2025. Not because technology is some kind of magic (my grandma might disagree) but because in 2025, technology can’t be separated from the fundamental human capabilities that make up a life of dignity and freedom.

From 2012 to 2025, we’ve moved from theoretical debate to lived reality. The evidence is in: those without internet access lack the basic freedom to participate in economic, political, and social life. The infrastructure exists. The moral imperative is clear. What remains is political will.