The Verge is now 10 years old, which feels like both a very long time and none at all. I very clearly remember when The Verge did not exist, but now we have been around for a decade and a substantial number of people think The Verge is a TikTok channel, such that we have now made two TikToks explaining that we also operate a website. This is good. Anything else would mean we’re already dead.
Twelve of us founded The Verge in 2011 to document the messy collision of technology and culture and tell the story of the new kind of world that collision would create. And while we knew the smartphone would accelerate the ways technology and culture shape one another, we had no way of knowing that in just one decade, technology and culture would be inseparable — that everything from entertainment to politics to fashion would be intermediated by a handful of apps on phones made by a handful of companies. The speed at which we have accepted dramatic new ideas about technology as part of our everyday lives over the past decade is absolutely stunning in retrospect.
We dreamed up The Verge during the same moment in time that Instagram, Snap, and Twitch were founded. We were running a primitive version of the site called This is My Next when Siri was introduced; The Verge predates Alexa and the entire concept of Netflix original programming. We are older than Google Photos, Timehop, and Peloton; we launched with a glossy story on the first Nest thermostat. The very first Oculus VR prototype was shown to us in a Las Vegas parking lot. The Verge is older than Slack; we are about as old as movies in 4K.