The European Commission’s decision on January 26 to brand WhatsApp a very large online platform marks another clear advance in Brussels’ expanding grip over the digital sphere.
By invoking the Digital Services Act (DSA), the Commission has brought one of Europe’s most widely used communication tools under tighter supervision. The move has reopened an old and unresolved question: how far can digital regulation go before it starts to erode freedom of expression?
The trigger is a technical threshold. WhatsApp’s “Channels” feature now reaches more than 45 million monthly users in the EU, pushing the platform into the DSA’s highest risk category. That designation comes with heavy new obligations, including detailed risk assessments, transparency reports, and expanded content controls. Meta has four months—until mid-May 2026—to comply.
Commission officials are keen to play down the impact. They insist that private messages remain off limits. Only “Channels,” described as one-way broadcast tools, fall under the new rules. Commission Vice-President Henna Virkkunen has been at pains to underline this distinction.
Yet experience suggests such boundaries rarely hold. Once regulators establish a legal foothold, oversight tends to widen quietly over time, with little public debate and even less visibility.
The real significance of the decision lies in how the DSA defines “systemic risks.” The term goes far beyond illegal content. It also covers loosely framed concerns such as threats to democracy, election integrity, or fundamental rights. Under the law, platforms are expected to identify and neutralise these risks under the Commission’s direct supervision.
In effect, this turns private companies into gatekeepers of public debate. They are asked to police speech according to political criteria they did not set, while operating through processes that remain largely opaque. For critics, this is where freedom of expression begins to look dangerously conditional.
The WhatsApp designation also fits a familiar pattern. Direct proposals for “chat control” have repeatedly stalled amid public and parliamentary resistance. Instead of abandoning the idea, Brussels has pursued it by other means. When one route is blocked, another quietly opens. The result is a steady tightening of control without a clear democratic mandate.
All of this comes at a sensitive moment. Public trust in EU institutions is already strained. Yet while the Commission presents itself as a guardian of free expression, it continues to promote legal frameworks that encourage surveillance, self-censorship, and a narrowing of acceptable speech.
Warnings from legal scholars, civil liberties groups, and ordinary users have done little to slow this momentum. For millions who rely on platforms like WhatsApp to communicate and stay informed outside the mainstream media, the concern is no longer abstract. It is increasingly personal.
