Corruptissima re publica plurimae leges

If you are wondering about the headline. It is a well-known saying by Tacitus, long before our time, from the Romanian empire, that the more corrupt a state becomes, the more laws it requires. When the European Union rolled out the Digital Services Act (DSA), they likely envisioned it as a shining beacon of hope in the chaotic wilderness of the internet, although in reality, it seems more like a tool to serve the interests of those in power. After all, Europe’s existing civil and criminal legal systems have functioned admirably for decades in addressing such issues. However, for those not well-versed in legal frameworks, a DSA appears necessary to feel the comforting embrace of state protection.

After all, no one should ever endure the horror of being ‘offended’ on the internet, right? But let’s pause and stroll through history, specifically ancient Rome, where insults and verbal sparring were tolerated and celebrated as part of public discourse. Cicero, for instance, was infamous for his sharp tongue, using biting rhetoric to eviscerate his political opponents in full view of the Roman Senate. Back then, insults weren’t something to be policed; they were a form of political engagement. Yet somehow, Roman society thrived without a “Digital Services Act” to shield its citizens from mean words. The existing legal systems, which have proven capable of handling defamation, threats, and similar issues for decades, aren’t enough when one’s feelings are at stake. Perhaps this reflects a broader cultural shift away from the resilience that marked societies like ancient Rome, where the public sphere was a battlefield of ideas, not a sanitized safe space. After all, who wouldn’t want to make the digital world a safer place? But for critics, it’s hard to look at this act without feeling the cold shadow-sm of George Orwell’s “1984” creeping in. Of course, nobody is suggesting that Ursula von der Leyen is secretly Big Brother. It’s a fun thought experiment, but there are a few unsettling similarities.

Take the idea of central control over information. In Orwell’s dystopia, the Ministry of Truth gleefully rewrites history and erases inconvenient facts faster than you can say “doublethink.” In the DSA framework, there is only the correct and the incorrect opinion, with little room for debate. Opinions deemed ‘incorrect’ are swiftly hunted down, as if diversity of thought has suddenly become a liability rather than a strength. Similarly, the DSA’s push for information policing seems designed to cement institutional narratives more than genuinely uphold democracy. After all, the courts have always been capable of adjudicating disputes if only one cared to use them. Now, the DSA isn’t quite that brazen. Still, it does grant authorities significant power to police what can and can’t appear online. It’s as if the mere possibility of offense demands immediate state intervention, disregarding that the legal avenues for addressing actual harm have long been in place and function well in European systems. Sure, they say it’s only about removing “illegal content,” a comforting phrase if you don’t think too hard about who decides what’s illegal. Critics worry that such powers could easily morph into tools for censorship. Today’s “protecting democracy” could, in a few convenient steps, become tomorrow’s “suppressing dissent.” But hey, trust the system, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Then there’s the surveillance element. Orwell’s Big Brother had those creepy two-way screens, but at least he wasn’t asking you to sign a terms-of-service agreement first. The DSA introduces measures requiring platforms to actively hunt down and eliminate illegal content. This might sound noble, but it’s essentially a shortcut that bypasses the well-established legal processes. Instead of relying on courts and due process, the state now shoulders citizens with automated surveillance, as if humans needed protection from their own words at all times. Forget the quaint “Big Brother is watching you” tagline; we’re in the era of “Big Algorithm is flagging your memes.” And while proponents argue this is necessary to curb harmful material, skeptics fear it edges dangerously close to mass surveillance. Because nothing screams freedom, like knowing your every word is being vetted by a server farm somewhere in Dublin.

And then there’s the elephant in the room: the slippery slope toward stifling free speech. Orwell’s regime punished “thoughtcrime,” the audacious act of thinking something the Party didn’t like. The DSA doesn’t go that far, of course. Still, circumventing the traditional legal routes for addressing disputes hands decision-making to platforms and algorithms. Because why bother with courts when you can automate censorship for efficiency’s sake? The DSA isn’t punishing thoughts yet. However, its regulations suggest a world where opinions are actively pursued and silenced if they deviate from what the authorities deem acceptable. In this brave new internet, the space for controversial or challenging views shrinks rapidly under the watchful eye of state-sanctioned platforms. Imagine being a content creator trying to navigate the internet where every post risks triggering an automated content removal bot. Sure, you may still have freedom of speech, mainly where it does not affect the feudal lords, but if no one can see what you’re saying, does it really count? It’s like having a megaphone in an empty room: cathartic, perhaps, but ultimately pointless.

The DSA, of course, comes with the predictable shiny promises of transparency and user rights, as if those words alone could absolve it of its paternalistic undertones. But let’s not forget that all this “protection” exists because someone decided the existing legal systems weren’t enough for the common citizen. We need Big Tech and the government working hand in hand to protect us from opinions they find inconvenient. The idea that courts, with their deep-rooted principles of due process, can handle such matters effectively has been conveniently forgotten. But why trust a judge when you can have an algorithm decide whether your post about pineapple pizza is too divisive? But in the absence of legal expertise, perhaps some feel reassured by a state that protects them from the burden of thinking for themselves. Platforms must explain their content moderation decisions and give users a way to appeal. How charmingly optimistic! As we all know, large corporations have historically excelled at making their bureaucratic processes accessible and fair. Just imagine the joy of filing an appeal against a content removal decision, waiting six months for a response, only to be told by an AI-generated email that your case is “complex” and requires further review. Sounds delightful.

But let’s not forget that the DSA operates within the confines of what is still called democratic governance. Yet, history provides cautionary tales of how systems initially designed to protect citizens can evolve into mechanisms of control. The German Democratic Republic was not really democratic, right? One might recall how many Europeans fled their homes to escape regimes where arbitrary power dictated every facet of life. Is it really unthinkable that the centralized authority of the EU, under the guise of order and protection, could one day follow a similar trajectory? The difference between the EU and Orwell’s Party may be clear. Still, that line becomes dangerously thin if citizens relinquish too much oversight. Accountability to the people is often touted, but how reliable is it when vigilance, the cornerstone of freedom, depends on societies increasingly distracted by digital noise? Call me cynical, but depending on such accountability, it feels like counting on wolves to guard the sheep: the intent may sound noble, but the outcome is predictable.

So, is the DSA the harbinger of Orwellian doom? It is close. Yet, so before we cheer for this supposed digital utopia, we might want to recall a time when Europe’s citizens fled their homelands to escape oppressive regimes and arbitrary power. History has shown how centralized control, under the guise of protection, often veers dangerously close to authoritarianism. Bureaucracy is known for its uncanny ability to slowly accumulate unchecked authority while still claiming to serve the greater good. The DSA, with its noble intentions and “progressive” framework, might just be another step toward the kind of overreach many fled from in the past. After all, if Orwell taught us anything, it’s to keep a wary eye on governments that promise too much protection while tightening their grip on individual freedoms.

Oh, and by the way, I can live without the DSA, which is a precursor to a law system based on emotions instead of facts and evidence.