Circular economies may need a different kind of internet

I might be completely wrong about this, but I think we may be witnessing the early foundations of a new internet.

A small technical step that felt strangely big

This week I experienced something that felt small on the surface, yet oddly significant underneath. Technically, nothing dramatic happened. I simply connected my own node* to the Mycelium Network, part of the ecosystem being developed around ThreeFold. It was just a configuration step, a few commands, a bit of curiosity and experimentation. But the feeling it left behind stayed with me much longer than the action itself. It reminded me of those archival images of the first human stepping onto the moon. The footage itself is almost underwhelming - a careful step onto dusty ground - yet everyone watching knew they were witnessing the beginning of something much bigger.

Now, to be very clear: I might be completely wrong about this. Technology history is full of promising ideas that never reached scale, and many innovations that once looked revolutionary eventually disappeared or evolved into something else entirely. But major shifts often start quietly, with small groups of builders exploring infrastructure long before the rest of the world notices. And that is what this moment felt like: a glimpse of something still forming, still uncertain, but potentially important.

The internet we use was never really designed for today

Over the past decades we have started to treat the internet as if it were a finished system, something stable and already shaped into its final form. But when you look a little closer, the infrastructure we rely on today was never really designed for the world we now live in. Over time the internet has become highly centralized. Huge amounts of data move through a relatively small number of global platforms, and most digital services depend on massive hyperscale data centers scattered across the planet.

For many applications this model works perfectly well, and it has enabled extraordinary innovation. Yet it also creates growing tensions. Questions about data ownership, digital sovereignty, infrastructure resilience and transparency are becoming more pressing every year. As more aspects of our economies and societies depend on digital systems, it becomes increasingly important to ask a simple question: what kind of internet infrastructure do we actually want for the future?

Learning from nature: the idea behind Mycelium

The name Mycelium comes from nature. In forests, fungi create vast underground networks that connect trees and plants through microscopic filaments. Scientists have discovered that these networks allow nutrients and signals to travel between organisms, creating a complex ecosystem where resources can be shared and redistributed without any central authority directing the process. The entire forest functions as a distributed network.

The Mycelium project borrows this idea as a metaphor for digital infrastructure. Instead of relying entirely on centralized routing systems, devices can connect directly to each other, forming a mesh network where nodes communicate with other nodes and information finds its own path through the system. The result is an architecture that is potentially more distributed, adaptive and resilient.

Whether this particular technology will become widely adopted is impossible to know today. The internet’s history is filled with alternative architectures that never reached global scale. But the fact that these experiments are happening at all suggests something important: people are actively rethinking the foundations of how the internet might work.

Why someone working in design pays attention to this

At first glance it might seem unusual for someone working primarily in design and circular systems to spend time exploring internet infrastructure. But the connection becomes obvious once you look at how circular economies actually function. Circularity is often described in terms of materials - reuse, repair, upcycling and waste streams - yet behind all of these processes lies another layer that is just as critical: information.

In order to create truly circular systems, we need to understand how objects evolve over time. We need to know where materials come from, how products were manufactured, what transformations they have undergone and how they might be repaired or reused in the future. Without reliable information systems, circularity remains largely aspirational.

This is where digital infrastructure becomes essential. Circular economies depend on the ability to track materials, document changes and maintain knowledge about objects as they move through different contexts. And that raises an important question about where this information should live and how it should be managed.

The hidden digital layer of circular economies

Today most digital systems assume that information must be uploaded into centralized cloud platforms where it can be processed and analyzed. But another approach is beginning to emerge. Instead of moving data into large centralized environments, it may become possible to keep data closer to the people and organizations who created it, while services and applications interact with that data where it resides.

This idea is sometimes described as moving AI to the data instead of moving the data to AI. It represents a subtle but potentially powerful shift in how digital ecosystems could operate. Technologies such as the ThreeFold Grid, the automation framework Hero, and the Mycelium Network explore variations of this approach. Together they hint at a future where computing power, data and services may be distributed across many smaller nodes instead of concentrated in a few large centers.

What this could mean for May Again

Through May Again, I explore how upcycled and circular design can be integrated into real (public) spaces. The concept revolves around what I call chains of contexts, where objects move through different environments and gain meaning over time. Instead of being static products, design pieces become part of evolving systems that connect materials, stories and spaces.

If you imagine adding a digital layer to this process, new possibilities start to appear. Objects could carry traceable histories documenting their origins and transformations. Designers could retain ownership over the data connected to their work. Spaces could become part of living ecosystems where design elements move, adapt and accumulate value through use. In such a scenario, the infrastructure that manages information becomes just as important as the physical objects themselves.

Standing at the edge of something that might eventually matter

We are still very early in this story. It is entirely possible that the technologies being explored today will evolve into something very different tomorrow. Some may disappear, others may merge into new systems, and only a few might eventually become foundational infrastructure.

But moments like this — when people start experimenting with the underlying architecture of digital systems — are worth paying attention to. Infrastructure shapes everything that is built on top of it, even if most of us only notice it once it becomes invisible.

For now I am simply observing, experimenting and learning. But every once in a while you encounter a moment that gives you the feeling of standing near the beginning of something. Not something finished, not something certain, but something that might eventually matter.

This week felt like one of those moments.

*node: local server at someone’s home or business

Image credits: Rawpixel.com on Freepik