The Rules of the Internet: Why Rule 34 and Rule 63 Still Matter

The Rules of the Internet: Why Rule 34 and Rule 63 Still Matter

If you spent any time on a message board in 2006, you probably stumbled across a list that looked like it was written by a group of sleep-deprived teenagers fueled by Mountain Dew. It was. We’re talking about the "Rules of the Internet," a chaotic, cynical, and surprisingly durable set of unwritten—well, eventually written—guidelines that originated on 4chan’s /b/ board.

These aren't laws. Nobody is going to jail because they broke Rule 1 or Rule 2. But if you want to understand why digital culture looks the way it does today, you have to look at these artifacts. They are the DNA of every meme, every flame war, and every weird niche community you’ve ever joined.

Where did the Rules of the Internet come from anyway?

It started as a joke. Around 2006, users on 4chan began compiling a list to satirize the behavior of people on the site. It was a mix of internal etiquette and warnings for "newfags"—the site's derogatory term for newcomers. The list was never official. It was a collaborative effort of "anonymous," a shifting collective of users who wanted to establish a sense of shared identity through irony.

You’ve likely heard of Rule 34. It’s the most famous one. But the original list had dozens of entries, ranging from the philosophical to the straight-up offensive.

The most widely cited version of the list comes from the Encyclopedia Dramatica, a wiki that was essentially the "Burn Book" of the early web. It wasn't pretty. It was often cruel. However, it captured a specific moment in time when the internet felt like a wild frontier where the only currency was your ability to take a joke or win an argument.

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The big ones you actually need to know

Most of the "rules" have faded into obscurity. Does anyone really care about Rule 16 (there are no girls on the internet)? Probably not, especially since the demographic split of the web is basically 50/50 now. But a few of these have become pillars of pop culture.

Rule 1 and Rule 2: You do not talk about /b/. This was a blatant rip-off of Fight Club. It was meant to keep the "normies" out. The irony, of course, is that by making it a rule to not talk about it, everyone talked about it constantly. It created an allure of exclusivity.

Rule 34: If it exists, there is porn of it. No exceptions. This is arguably the most scientifically accurate rule ever conceived by a bunch of random internet users. It has become a legitimate sociological observation. Whether it's a toaster, a cartoon character, or a specific type of weather pattern, someone, somewhere, has drawn it in a compromising position. It’s the ultimate testament to human creativity—and our collective weirdness.

Rule 35: If no porn is found of it, it will be made.
The corollary. It ensures the cycle never ends.

Rule 63: For every given male character, there is a female version of that character and vice versa.
Long before "gender-swapping" was a common trope in Hollywood reboots, the internet was doing it for fun. This rule basically birthed the entire "Bowsette" phenomenon or the countless female versions of Doctor Who and Loki that existed in fan art years before they hit the screen.

The dark side of the list

We have to be real here: the original rules were toxic. They were built on a foundation of misogyny, homophobia, and a "do it for the lulz" attitude that often justified harassment. Rule 20 (Nothing is to be taken seriously) was frequently used as a shield for people being genuinely terrible to one another.

If you look at the 2026 internet, you see the remnants of this. The "troll" culture that influences modern politics and social discourse can trace its lineage directly back to these rules. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword. On one hand, it fostered a unique, self-referential humor. On the other, it created a blueprint for online radicalization.

Why the rules of the internet still dominate our feeds

You might think a list from two decades ago would be irrelevant in the age of TikTok and AI-generated content. You’d be wrong.

Basically, these rules established the concept of "The Hive Mind." Rule 9 (There are no real rules about posting) and Rule 10 (There are no real rules about moderation either—enjoy your ban) set the stage for the decentralized, often chaotic nature of modern social platforms.

The internet isn't a library; it's a conversation. And conversations are messy.

Take "The Streisand Effect." While not a numbered rule, it fits the spirit perfectly. It’s the idea that trying to hide something online only makes it more visible. This is basically Rule 14 (Do not argue with trolls—it means they win) in a different outfit. When a celebrity tries to sue a Twitter user for a meme, they are breaking an unwritten rule of the internet, and the internet punishes them for it every single time.

The evolution of digital etiquette

Honestly, we've moved past the era of the "Rules of the Internet" being a literal list. Today, we have "Terms of Service" and "Community Guidelines," which are the corporate, sanitized versions of these old-school edicts.

But the spirit remains.

Consider how we handle spoilers. There’s no "Rule 87" that says you shouldn't spoil The Last of Us finale, but the collective internet will descend upon you if you do. We have developed a new set of social norms that are just as rigid as the old ones.

  • Vibe Checks: We judge content based on authenticity.
  • Receipts: Rule 32 of the old list was "You must have pictures to prove your statements." Today, we call that "bringing receipts."
  • Main Character Energy: We've identified the person who is the center of the day’s internet drama and collectively decided to talk about them until the next person comes along.

It's just a different language for the same behaviors.

Moving beyond the meme

If you’re trying to navigate the web today, you don’t need to memorize a list of 50 rules. But you do need to understand the underlying mechanics.

First, everything is permanent. The internet never forgets. This isn't a rule on a list; it's a fundamental property of digital architecture. Whether it's a bad take from ten years ago or a "deleted" photo, it exists somewhere.

Second, the "Lulz" have consequences. In the early 2000s, people thought the internet was a separate world. We know better now. What happens online affects elections, mental health, and physical safety. The old rule that "nothing is to be taken seriously" is dead. Everything is serious now.

Third, anonymity is a tool, not a shield. The early rules were obsessed with being "Anonymous." But in 2026, true anonymity is almost impossible to maintain for the average user. Your metadata, your IP, and your typing patterns are all fingerprints.

Actionable steps for the modern user

Stop looking for a handbook. The "rules" are constantly shifting, but your behavior should be grounded in a few practical realities.

Verify before you vent.
Because of Rule 14 (trolls), people will bait you into arguments with fake information. Before you let your blood pressure rise, check the source. If it’s a screenshot of a headline with no link, it’s probably rage-bait.

Assume everything is public.
Even in a private Discord or a locked Instagram story, someone can take a screenshot. Treat every digital interaction as if it could be shown to your boss or your grandmother. It sounds paranoid, but it’s just the reality of the medium.

Understand the "Streisand Effect."
If you make a mistake online, the worst thing you can do is try to scrub it forcefully. Usually, an honest "I messed up" and moving on is better than a multi-day legal battle that puts your mistake on the front page of Reddit.

Protect your "Lurker" status.
There’s an old internet adage: 90% of users lurk, 9% contribute occasionally, and 1% create the content. You don't always have to have a take. Sometimes, observing the madness is the only way to stay sane.

The internet is no longer a fringe playground for nerds. It's the town square. The "Rules of the Internet" were the first attempt to map that square, and while they were messy and often "kinda" gross, they taught us one thing: the community, not the platform, ultimately decides how we behave. Keep your head down, don't feed the trolls, and remember that for better or worse, Rule 34 is always watching.