Ekşi Sözlük: A Green Pick's Quarter-Century Journey

What do you think about Ekşi Sözlük? For many people my age, this question likely elicits complex answers. One part of me respects the past of Ekşi Sözlük, an underground community I witnessed grow before my eyes, and feels admiration and belonging. The other part looks with anger at the noisy, hateful chaos of what remains today, a 'not-so-sacred' source of information.

It's a fact that the amateur and rebellious spirit symbolized by that green pick promised us a "virtual sanctuary" and a space for freedom within the social structure of Turkey at the time. However, over the past quarter-century, that brave community has given way to a profit-driven corporation and the clamor of trolls filling every entry.

Once a "Virtual Fight Club" where we shed our real-life roles and became ourselves, it has now transformed into a giant corporation accused of "labor exploitation" within corporate cogs. But no matter how much we criticize it, that green page still harbors this country's most striking, dirtiest, and indispensable digital memory.

Sour Times: The Rise of a Pick

The date was February 15, 1999. While Turkey struggled to emerge from the turbulent political atmosphere of the 90s, a self-proclaimed "street coder" and self-taught computer programmer, Sedat Kapanoğlu (aka 'ssg'), launched the Sözlük as a sub-page of his personal website. The site's name was a nod to the Portishead song playing in the background: Sourtimes.org. The first definition he entered, "Pena" (pick), would vibrate the strings of Turkey's largest digital memory without ever touching a guitar string.

Ekşi Sözlük was a database that broke the traditional dictionary concept of its time. Instead of encyclopedias dictating knowledge from top to bottom, it centered on experience, humor, and observations. Here, there wasn't an absolute truth, only the personal opinions of its writers (susers). Indeed, at the bottom of the site, it read:

None of the content on this site is accurate. Site content may be unsuitable for minors. Authors are responsible for their writings. Cannot be quoted without attribution. It is against human rights for an institution appointed by the state to decide who can and cannot access information on the internet. Websites are places users connect to according to their wishes. Users can choose not to connect to a website if they wish. They have this power and ability. If a user wants to connect to a site, that is their preference and right. If they don't want to connect, that is also their preference and right. Institutions mandated by the people to serve them cannot overstep their bounds and treat the public as ignorant fools who don't know what they can and cannot access. There are many free and paid software programs available for parents to protect their children from inappropriate content. These programs do not require more complex technical knowledge than using a web browser. It is forbidden for the state to belittle its nation and treat it as imbeciles.

Interestingly, while pondering how to find this text, I searched for the word "footer" (which refers to the bottom section of a site in Ekşi Sözlük) and realized that I myself was the one who had entered this information into the site in 2010. Using information I entered 16 years ago today has been a delightful twist of fate.

This explanation at the bottom of Ekşi Sözlük always reminds me of what is written in the footer of ChatGPT today – "ChatGPT can make mistakes. Check important information." – which also started as a sub-product of openai.com and later gained its independence.

Anyway, let's not get sidetracked.

By the early 2000s, Ekşi Sözlük had already begun creating its own legends and slowly gaining visibility in traditional media. With the support of pop culture figures like Okan Bayülgen, Sözlük made its way to television screens. The media viewed this new representative of "cyberculture" with both admiration and fear. Alongside this, Sözlük began creating its own celebrities. Otisabi, huzursuz, Author, and many other writers were followed like columnists. In fact, in 2002, a book titled "Kutsal Bilgi Kaynağı" (The Sacred Source of Information) was even published.

This is the book I'm holding.

While I'm at it, I'd like to read a snippet from the book's foreword:

For those with many questions, a warm-up: Ekşi Sözlük is a website. This book contains excerpts from it.

For those with fewer questions: Ekşi Sözlük, which began operating as a sub-section of another site in February 1999, has offered the same service since its existence; the opportunity to shape a common source of information as you wish. Those who say, "What's so fun about that?" should remember that in their daily lives, they are constantly surrounded by words, encyclopedias, and shark documentaries created by many subgroups. They should consider how these affect their lives, and how important a role these necessary or unnecessary piles of text play, both in exams and in bank queues. Wouldn't you like to be prime minister for a day on April 23rd? Doesn't filling these sources of information with nonsense or what you believe to be more accurate excite you? Would you like to erase previous definitions and write "a foreign invention that passes in front of the house all day, grinds my gears, pollutes the air, and that I can never afford anyway" instead of "means of transport" when you open "car" in a dictionary? As this book nears publication, I almost feel your excitement as I write this.

Ekşi Sözlük began its publication life in 1999 as a site where anyone could be a writer, entering any information they wished about any subject, with an unclear purpose. This pool, continuously filled with information from 1999 to the present day, has undergone as many changes as the history of the civilizations it recounts, and has been the scene of many important events. Most importantly, Ekşi Sözlük gave rise to the social group called "dictionary writers." This group, encompassing everyone who logs into the dictionary, had the chance to develop its own morality, its own truths, and its own culture with members from all over the world.

Our intention is not to sell the dictionary. We want to tell the story of the dictionary. And with the impatience of a hunter who has just truly shot a lion, no less. For it has given us an experience we had not been able to live on the internet until now: the opportunity to build our own story like a monument in the midst of this pile of web pages.

We had so much fun creating the dictionary. We needed that fun so much that the most palatable content of this inconsistently tasty information mash became entertainment. We had accumulated so much inside us that we had so little fun left in life. We had yearned so much to be funny instead of just laughing at Cem Yılmaz. We will also tell the story of the dictionary. Don't rush. But we wanted to show those who don't know it what it looks like in these pieces of parchment. We want to tell many people because we built very beautiful castles out of the mud in our playground, and we don't want them to disappear among footprints.

For those who skipped to the end of the text without reading: This book contains excerpts from Ekşi Sözlük. It heralds a book that will tell the story of the dictionary.

If you enjoy reading it even a little, let's just say: Being a part of it too, uff. SSG

Perhaps SSG wasn't aware when he wrote this foreword, but concrete was about to be poured over those mud castles.

SSG in America! The Rise of the Street Coder

Sedat Kapanoğlu, in his own words, was a "street coder." His education focused not on diplomas, but on the codes hidden between the lines. After graduating from İzmir-Güzelbahçe 60. Yıl Anatolian High School in 1993, he started Anadolu University's Faculty of Economics and Doğuş University's Computer Engineering departments. However, he didn't finish either university due to absenteeism, as he couldn't tear himself away from the computer to attend classes.

In the late 1990s, while still a university student, he was one of Turkey's most prolific software developers. So much so that 6 of the "Turkey's 10 best shareware programs" on the diskette given by PC World Turkey magazine in 1996 belonged to him personally. When he founded Ekşi Sözlük in 1999, this "self-taught" genius had already caught Microsoft's attention.

2004 was a major turning point for both Sözlük and ssg. Kapanoğlu, accepting an offer from Microsoft, which valued experience and talent over diplomas, headed to America. He began working as a Software Engineer in the Windows Kernel Operating System at the Redmond headquarters.

At the time, the tech world was focused on the development of Windows Vista, one of Microsoft's most challenging and ambitious projects in its history. Remember it? Well, ssg was part of the Windows Search team, a fundamental feature of Vista. So, the technology that billions of people use today to search for files on their computers had the signature of that "street coder" from Turkey behind it.

ssg's early days at Microsoft began with that famous anecdote he now recounts with a smile in documentaries: his English was still very poor, and despite understanding nothing discussed in his first team meeting, he couldn't let his pride down and answered "yes" to a question. Even today, he doesn't know what he said "yes" to, but that "yes" would keep him at the heart of the tech giant for 10 years. I wonder if he said yes to that start button, I don't know...

However, by the mid-2000s, Ekşi Sözlük, which he managed from America, would reach such a scale due to the widespread adoption of ADSL in Turkey that ssg would have to choose between his career at Microsoft and the "sacred source of information." At this point, it's worth mentioning that the money he earned from Ekşi was more than what he earned at Microsoft.

ADSL: From Fermentation to the Big Bang

The internet was in a "ferment era" until the mid-2000s. During this period, the ruling groups were still getting to know this new technology, and the legal framework was undefined; this provided a relatively free, at times chaotic, space for formations like Ekşi Sözlük. However, by 2006, ADSL had begun to spread in Turkey, and the amount of content in Sözlük had reached colossal proportions. In fact, that very year, I, as a child drawing in Paint on my Windows 98 computer without internet access, got a new computer and ADSL. I remember logging into Ekşi Sözlük on the first day we got internet and searching for all the definitions in my mind, unknowingly spending the entire evening there. The internet had grown. By 2006, Sözlük had transformed into a giant living organism, with over 10,000 authors contributing nearly 6 million entries under more than 1 million topics.

To give you a perspective: in 1999, this number was around 44,000.

This growth was the first sign that Sözlük was no longer just "a platform for a group of friends" but had transformed into a mass communication tool that needed to be controlled.

With the new Turkish Penal Code adopted in 2004, publications made through electronic mass communication tools were included in the scope of "publications made through the press and broadcasting." This meant that every thought expressed on Ekşi Sözlük now faced the risk of direct legal sanction. And so it did...

Censorship: From Resistance Fortress to Institutionalization

Censorship became a way of life, not an accident, for Sözlük. With access blocks, courts, and warnings, Sözlük turned from a 'source of information' into a 'fortress of resistance.' But like every fortress, it would surrender by institutionalizing from within when it couldn't be destroyed from the outside.

In 2006, following a complaint by the Istanbul Police Department that entries under the 'hashish' topic on the site encouraged drug use among young people, the Istanbul Third Criminal Court of Peace ruled that access to Ekşi Sözlük be permanently blocked. For months, the site could not be accessed directly due to Turkish Telecom's DNS blocking. The block was lifted in June 2006 after an application by Ekşi Sözlük's lawyers.

On April 17, 2007, the Eyüpsultan 3rd Civil Court of First Instance ruled to suspend the site's publication on the grounds that Adnan Oktar had been insulted. Later, the ban was lifted. Oktar, not satisfied, took the case to the ECHR, but thankfully, his application was also rejected there.

In February 2008, a black band was added above the dictionary's logo to protest internet censorships in Turkey.

On September 29, internet users in Turkey were blocked from accessing the site for three hours by a court order.

On February 1, 2010, Fatih Altaylı was sued for insulting Sözlük writers in an article about Ekşi Sözlük titled "Meeting Place of Sour Souls" and Altaylı published a retraction in his newspaper column. Afterwards, another lawsuit filed by Altaylı resulted in the removal of 97 pieces of content written about him by court order.

On April 21, 2011, the Telecommunications Communication Presidency (TİB) sent an email to Sözlük's server, demanding the termination of its hosting services. Subsequently, the institution announced that Sözlük had been mistakenly added to the blacklist.

On June 21, 2011, 35 Ekşi Sözlük writers were taken into custody by the police for allegedly "insulting religious values." These initiatives were the last straw and led to the widely echoed "Don't Touch My Internet!" protests across Turkey, spearheaded by Sözlük.

In 2011, the Information and Communication Technologies Authority (BTK) presented the "Draft Principles and Procedures for Secure Internet Use" to the public. This draft forced internet users into four different filter profiles: "standard," "child," "family," and "domestic." The most frightening aspect was that the BTK would decide which sites would be filtered, and this list would not be disclosed to the public.

The pressure wasn't limited to just filters. In April, the Telecommunications Communication Presidency (TİB) sent a list of 138 "forbidden words" to hosting companies. Not only that, but TİB sent a harsh email to hosting companies, demanding the "immediate" termination of services for over 60 sites, including Ekşi Sözlük. This move was perceived as an open attack on the "sanctuary" of the digital world.

Social media organized with unprecedented speed. The hashtag #22agustos became globally popular on Twitter. Over 600,000 people joined the protest page on Facebook. Ekşi Sözlük writers responded to the closure order with thousands of angry entries, initiating a digital resistance.

On May 15, 2011, Turkey woke up to a historic day that spilled from digital to the streets. Thousands of people marched simultaneously in 30 cities across Turkey, especially on Istiklal Avenue in Istanbul. Voices of support also rose from European cities like Amsterdam, Cologne, and Vienna. The placards they held summarized the spirit of the time. Obama's famous "Yes We Can" slogan was adapted to Turkey as "Yes We Ban." Ekşi Sözlük, with its black-banded logo, found its place as a community at the forefront of the march.

I’ll interject briefly here: I was there that day, and during the march, "planking," a form of protest that had somehow become a trend at the time, was popular. Planking is essentially lying face down on the ground, motionless. I witnessed such an action there that day. There’s a CNN report where you can see the surprise on my face.

With its impact, reactions, pressure, and actions, those were special days. Ekşi Sözlük reached its peak as a "victim" and "center of resistance" during this process; however, the subsequent prosecutor's investigations and the user data sharing crisis would cast a shadow over this great solidarity.

Institutionalization: The Soul's Transformation into Commerce

After 2011, Ekşi Sözlük underwent not just a period of growth, but also an ideological and structural "shedding of its skin." The design of Sözlük changed not only aesthetically but also structurally. The company's (as I now refer to it) adaptation to this new era materialized with professionalization at the management level. The critical steps in this process were the founder Sedat Kapanoğlu's (ssg) decision to leave his career at Microsoft and return to Turkey to focus full-time on Sözlük, and the inclusion of lawyer Başak Purut (kanzuk) as a partner in site management. Sözlük was no longer a "friends' project" but had internalized the status of an "enterprise" with legal and commercial responsibilities, forced to work in coordination with administrative circles.

This institutionalization led to a major organizational rupture in 2012. On August 14, 2012, Başak Purut's decision to delete a critical entry about a company (Webrazzi) she also represented as a lawyer struck a major blow to Sözlük's claim of "independence." This situation resulted in the collective resignation of the 12-person moderator team, who had worked voluntarily without any financial compensation until then, on September 1, 2012. The resigning moderators argued that Sözlük had turned into an effort to "cleanse and make visible something dirty." After this event, Sözlük management rapidly shifted to a "company employee" model instead of voluntary moderation.

During this phase, Sözlük transformed from just a knowledge pool into a massive advertising medium. The "creative and dissenting stance" that attracted users to the site was replaced by a usage style focused on "entertainment, leisure, and distraction." With banners, full-page "skin/theme" advertisements, and the inclusion of corporate accounts, users began to feel like "advertising objects." Yes, advertising is a natural form of survival inherent in every medium. We have no objection to this; after all, it's a profitable and sustainable business. However, in a medium where ideas are discussed and criticisms are made, the "place where you get paid" and the "place you criticize" could not be the same.

Giants and States: The Age of Internet Surveillance

After 2011, both in Turkey and globally, the internet entered a period where freedom of speech was threatened by states and large corporations. The internet ceased to be a "free medium" and became a "surveillance zone" controlled by monitoring centers or local access blocks. Information, instead of being a meaningful whole consumed fragmented and rapidly, turned into data serving algorithms.

However, for most users, Ekşi Sözlük was not just a database, but also a social tool where the "virtual community" spilled into real life. The "summit" culture, which allowed writers to meet each other in real life, spread across a wide geography, from the June 21 Iron Maiden concert to the Helsinki summit; from local gatherings in Adana, Eskişehir, and Mersin. Birthday parties, starting with "Ekşi Sözlük Six Years Old" in 2005, became traditional with events like the 10th, 15th, and 20th anniversaries.

Trolling Stone: The Last Act of Resistance

Sözlük's corporate transformation faced its toughest test against political pressures in 2023. On February 21, 2023, as you know, after the earthquake, Sözlük was blocked by the BTK, citing "national security and public order." This block lasted longer than previous censorships. The site, which tried to continue publishing through different domain names (like eksisozluk1923.com), was able to regain its own domain name in January 2024 through a ruling by the Constitutional Court (AYM) that found the block to be a violation.

Decay: From Virtual Fight Club to Digital Coffeehouse

As we approach the mid-2020s, the rising authoritarian wave and climate of polarization worldwide resonated as "troll armies" in the corridors of Sözlük. Information sharing was no longer the priority; instead, as academic studies have predicted, the function of "entertainment, leisure, and distraction" came to the forefront. Political pressures and commercial concerns loosened the format's famous "definition" requirement; its place began to be occupied by abusive and low-quality content, which we call "ragebait" today, aimed solely at eliciting interaction by triggering anger.

The pressure, which had been ongoing since 2011 and culminated in major access blocks in 2023-2024, shattered Sözlük's famous "anonymous" shield. Authors, deprived of legal support, either completely stopped writing or sought refuge in risk-free entries instead of expressing opinions, under the shadow of lawsuits demanding imprisonment for alleged offenses like "insulting religious values" or "insulting the president."

Sözlük lost that underground spirit, that anti-establishment stance, which was once likened to Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. Tyler Durden's famous manifesto, "You are not your name, you are not your job," gave way to the reality of "You are your Turkish ID number and IP address."

At the point we've reached today, the once mind-opening, provocative, and creative spirit of Ekşi Sözlük has given way to a deafening noise. Sözlük is no longer an oppositional subculture space; it has transformed into a profit-driven enterprise under the full control of the state, law, and capital. The amateur enthusiasm of '99 has been replaced by the cacophony of a massive digital coffeehouse. See: We grew up, and the world got dirty.

Ekşi Sözlük is the most wounded witness of this enormous transformation. Perhaps it couldn't preserve its rebellious spirit, but with thousands of new topics opened every morning, it continues to carry the collective memory of thousands of people. Because somewhere in these parts, there are still those who believe in searching.

Thank you for listening.