To have a simple voice or video call with friends living outside Iran, I sometimes have to open and close several apps before one finally connects us for a few minutes. They can’t access domestic platforms, and we can’t use most international apps. I have to try multiple VPNs to find one that works. One advertises itself as hiring intelligence agents for Israel, another broadcasts explicit content, and the third requires a “subscription fee” to function. This “subscription fee” is a lifeline paid to the VPN seller—may they be blessed—that connects us to the modern world and the realm of information. Yet my right to secure, hassle-free communication with friends, or to access social media or simple video content on YouTube, is not upheld as much as the seller’s right to profit.

A presidential candidate claimed that 50% of the digital economy in Iran is tied to VPN sales. While I’ve seen no statistics to verify this, if true, the conclusion is staggering. Companies that build internet infrastructure typically make massive investments, with costly equipment and staff. Companies that deliver internet to our homes are constantly held accountable for service quality and spend heavily on advertising to compete for customers. Even influencers who charge millions of tomans for a minute of promotion on their pages don’t play as significant a role in this market. Security and profits, however, flow to individuals behind anonymous Telegram accounts, collecting payments of 100,000 tomans—or more or less—for every subscription renewal. Their “right” to subscriptions stands against our forced obligation to use their services. But fundamentally, rights come with responsibilities, not coercion.

To watch YouTube, you have to purchase and activate a VPN. Using YouTube is hardly unusual. I play soft music on it while writing to block out background noise. My child uses it to learn how things work in the world. YouTube is valuable for education, business, hosting events, bedtime stories, modem repairs, and countless other purposes. But if a VPN is necessary, how can it be safely handed over to children? A child with a VPN can access any content, no longer restricted to cheerful or educational videos meant for kids.

Moreover, we don’t have protections like the EU’s GDPR to safeguard our privacy. An unregulated VPN can collect as much data about us as it wants—linking personal information to our location and interests. For instance, it may know my name, job, income, when I leave home, where I go, and how I spend my money. Imagine such information about millions of Iranian VPN users falling into the hands of a terrorist organization. What poses a greater security threat: Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, or such massive data breaches?

Despite efforts, we haven’t been confined to the so-called national internet. We still transfer money through domestic apps and chat with friends abroad on Telegram daily; at most, we lose a few minutes each day connecting and disconnecting our VPNs. Most of us don’t have significant wealth that international malware could siphon into a Panamanian bank account. But what about our privacy and data security? Even if this holds no value to those who enforce or sell filtering tools, doesn’t the security of a country in near-conflict with Israel matter? Do we care that citizens see pro-Israel ads on VPNs, or that behavioral patterns, movement data, and countless other critical insights that could threaten a nation’s security are being sacrificed for VPN profits?

If someone argues that this isn’t for illicit financial gain but for security itself, I certainly won’t believe it. High-ranking officials frequently use X (formerly Twitter) to communicate with Iranians and the world. If security were the real concern, they should logically be using Bale or Eitaa, given their supposedly heightened sensitivity to security risks. So, the issue isn’t their presence online or ours. One party profits from an illegitimate “subscription fee” without paying taxes or registering their income. Meanwhile, another person is forced to pay to counter this coercion. The government—perhaps the one party that could be held accountable—blames us for allegedly destabilizing cyberspace and slowing the internet by using VPNs.

There’s no balance between rights and obligations, comfort and security, costs and benefits. National policies seem to prioritize the profits of VPN sales over our security and well-being.