EFF’s Final Year in Review: A Legacy of Long-Term Digital Defense

EFF’s Final Year in Review: A Legacy of Long-Term Digital Defense

As 2026 rolls around, the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) is sitting at a crossroads—not just in terms of when it’s going to stop publishing its annual Year in Review, but in how we’re all thinking about digital rights now. For the first time in its 25-year history, the EFF is doing this final review. And it’s not just a checklist of what happened. It’s a quiet, honest look at what we’ve fought for, what we’ve lost in the noise, and what still needs to be said.

The person who’s led this charge for years is stepping down. And honestly? That’s not just a change in leadership. It’s a moment of reckoning. Because the work we’ve done—what we’ve stood for—hasn’t been about flashy wins. It’s been about showing up when no one else does. When the world says, “Oh, it’s just a tech issue,” we say, “No. This is about privacy. This is about who gets to speak. This is about who gets to be seen.”

2025 was rough. Not just for the EFF, but for everyone who cares about the internet. Governments were pushing more and more into surveillance. Big companies were quietly harvesting data like it was free. Algorithms were making decisions about what we see, what we’re allowed to say, what we even get to believe. And the internet? It felt like it was being rewritten without anyone’s consent.

So we launched Take Back CRTL. Not a flashy slogan. Not a viral campaign. A real, grounded effort to shift from passive resistance to active, sustained action. We’re not just asking for transparency—we’re demanding it. We want people to know who’s watching, what’s being recorded, and how that data is being used. Because when you don’t know, you can’t protect yourself.

And at the heart of that fight? Two issues that haven’t gone away—they’ve just gotten more dangerous.

The Age Verification Trap: A Surveillance Facade

Look, governments and platforms keep saying age verification is about protecting kids. “We need to keep minors safe from bad content,” they say. But here’s the thing: the systems they’re building don’t work. And worse, they’re biased.

We’ve seen it time and again. Facial recognition tools? They misidentify people of color, women, non-binary folks—up to 30 times more often than white men. That’s not a glitch. That’s a pattern. And when you’re a young person of color trying to access a platform, or a parent trying to find safe spaces for their child, that kind of error doesn’t just frustrate you. It shuts you out.

And it’s not just about access. It’s about censorship. Platforms use age checks to block content they don’t like—content that might be political, artistic, or just raw and honest. A young person sharing a poem about grief? Flagged. A community organizing against housing injustice? Censored. All because the system thinks they’re “too old” or “too young” or “too risky.”

In 2025, the public started seeing this clearly. Investigations showed how age verification was being used not to protect kids—but to suppress speech. And when we saw that, we didn’t just sit back. Our legal team filed amicus briefs in federal courts, arguing that these systems violate free speech and privacy under the Constitution. Because if you can’t speak freely online, you’re not really free.

ALPRs: From Surveillance to Systemic Racism

Now, ALPRs—automated license plate readers—have been a fight for years. Back in 2013, we took on the California government and won. The Supreme Court ruled that police can’t just deploy these systems without telling the public how they’re used or who has access to the data. That was a big win. But 2025? That’s when it got real.

After years of silence, journalists and EFF researchers started digging. And what they found? Police departments across the country were using ALPR data to target Black and Latino drivers. In one community in Los Angeles, over 70% of license plate searches were focused on those communities—even when no crime was reported. That’s not a mistake. That’s a pattern. And it’s not just about surveillance. It’s about racial profiling disguised as data collection.

So we didn’t stop there. In 2025, our legal team filed a new lawsuit against San Jose’s ALPR program. This time, we focused on the lack of oversight, the absence of data limits, and the fact that the public wasn’t even told how the data was being used. And in cities like Austin, Texas, people didn’t just watch—it happened. Residents organized, spoke up, and blocked a proposed ALPR contract. They didn’t wait for a court to act. They acted as a community. That’s what this fight has become: not just legal, but civic. Not just about laws, but about trust.

A Legacy of Persistence

Beyond those two issues, 2025 was full of work. Legal actions. Public education. Policy pushes. Across 100+ staff members—many of whom have been in this field for years—there was a quiet consistency. We didn’t chase headlines. We didn’t wait for the moment. We kept showing up.

And that’s the thing. These aren’t just wins. They’re endurance. The fact that we still care about age verification, about ALPRs, about data privacy, even when no one else is paying attention? That says something. That says we’re not just reacting to the moment. We’re building something that lasts.

The leader stepping down in 2026 isn’t the end. It’s a pause. A moment to reflect. But the work? It’s not over. Because the internet isn’t just a tool. It’s a space where people form identities, share ideas, organize, and survive. And when that space is under threat, we have to stand up.

To the members, the donors, the activists who’ve stood with us through the long nights, the quiet moments, the times when the world said, “This isn’t important”—thank you. Your voice. Your time. Your belief. That’s what powered every campaign, every lawsuit, every conversation we had in the dark.

This may be the last of my annual reviews. But the fight? It’s not ending. It’s just changing shape. And as long as people care about the future of the internet—about who gets to speak, who gets to be seen, who gets to live freely in a world full of data and algorithms—the EFF will keep showing up. And so will you.