Nobody can read what you post here — not us, not anyone holding this server. What we cannot perfectly hide is who you are connected to, and what your own browser is able to lose.
This page is about RebellionSocial, and it is still being built. RebellionChat is a different product with different rules — nothing here describes it, and it publishes its own page.
Nothing obliged us to write this page. We would rather you decided with it in front of you, so the drawbacks come first and the reasons come with them. None of it is meant to alarm you — every one of these is a consequence of not keeping your life on somebody else's computer.
Everything you post is sealed inside your browser before it leaves, and we never write down a list of your friends — take this server apart and there is no such list in it. But posts still travel like letters through a post office: nobody along the way can open them, and nobody has your address book, yet someone watching that post office closely for a long time could notice that the same fifty boxes get a delivery every time you post. Hiding even that would mean holding your posts back for hours before sending them, and we would rather send them.
Precisely: this site reaches you through Cloudflare, which unlocks the connection at its own edge before passing it on to our machine. So Cloudflare, and anyone who controls our server, can see the pattern of requests — never the contents of a message, which is encrypted with a key that never leaves the browsers involved. We do not log which mailbox any address collected from; Cloudflare's own records are outside our control. The alternative is exposing this server's home address directly to the internet, which is worse for everybody involved.
It is genuinely gone everywhere it had not arrived yet, and we ask the devices that do have it to drop it — and they do. If someone is away, that instruction waits here for them for up to three months. But a copy already open on someone's screen is theirs, and nobody has ever built software that can un-screenshot something.
A post waits a week in someone's mailbox before this server forgets it. The instruction to remove a post waits far longer, and the reason is that the two fail differently: a post nobody collected can be sent again from your device, and a deletion nobody collected cannot be sent again by anyone. The cost of that is worth saying plainly — these are the only items here that sit for months, so somebody who took this machine apart could tell that a withdrawal happened, and roughly when. Not what it was, not which post, and not whose: the mailbox it sits in is named by a number only you and that one friend can work out.
Nothing is lost while they are away — it waits for them. Neither of you has to be online at the same time: a friend coming back leaves a note asking for what they missed, that note waits here until you next open the app, and your answer waits there until they next open theirs. But there is no moment when you can be sure everyone has seen something.
We do not keep a copy — that is the whole point — so clearing your browsing data, or your phone reclaiming space when it runs low, can take them with it. Under YOUR PICTURES on your Social page there is an Export button, which writes every picture this browser is holding into one file you keep. The first time a picture is ever saved here, we say all of this out loud rather than letting you find it out afterwards.
Browsers give a site a limited, revocable amount of storage. We ask for the durable kind the first time you save a picture, but a browser is allowed to refuse — and a browser that has never seen this site usually does. Adding the app to your home screen is what changes that answer, and Settings shows you which one you have under YOUR DATA. "Clear browsing data" wipes it either way. The exported file is an ordinary zip of ordinary images: once it is on your disk, nothing here is protecting it, and its file names deliberately say when each picture arrived and never who it came from. This is the honest trade for not keeping your photographs on someone else's computer.
Wiping your identity here takes seconds and reaches nothing else — your friends keep whatever they already collected, and nothing tells them you have gone. If you want to disappear from them too, disconnect from everyone first; that does reach them.
The wipe is instant and entirely local: it clears this browser's storage and reloads, with no network round-trip at all. That is deliberate — for someone acting under pressure, waiting for messages to send is exactly the delay that must not exist. So the two acts are kept separate rather than one pretending to do the other's job. Note also that afterwards you are a new person here, not the same person with an empty profile: the twelve words were the identity, and without them there is no way back to the old one.
You get everything, from everyone you connected to, in the order it was written. That is the promise and it is also the limit — if fifty friends post today, you have fifty posts to scroll.
Law III says text is the feature, and in RebellionChat it still is. Social carries pictures, because a profile with no face is a form rather than a person. We would rather admit that on this page than quietly soften the law it breaks. Pictures are shrunk in your browser and sealed like everything else — the server holds them and cannot open them.
It is encrypted in your browser, and the server only ever holds the locked version. This is not a promise about our behaviour — we did not keep the key.
Nobody can find you, suggest you, or add you. An invitation you accepted is the only way anyone gets in, and you can close that door again at any time.
There is no algorithm here to have an opinion about you, so there is nothing to game, nothing to trap you, and nothing quietly deciding which of your friends you hear from.
No ads, no tracking, no investors waiting for a return. There is nothing to sell, because what reaches us is unreadable, and nobody to sell it to.
Disconnect from one person or from everyone, and it takes effect on both sides — they stop seeing you and you stop seeing them. Nobody is notified; it simply stops.
Donations if you feel generous, and the running costs are published. There is no tier you are being nudged towards, because there are no tiers.
rebellionchat.com — free forever. The five laws are at /manifesto.