Delivered by Pablo Peniche on the occassion of the statue's unveiling ceremony at the Internet Archive.
My name is Pablo. Some of you know me. I am just a humble builder and tech bro who saw a duty left undone.
I never met Aaron Swartz. I first heard his name when he stood against SOPA, fighting to keep the internet free—fighting so that speech would not be silenced under the guise of protection, so that knowledge would not be caged behind walls.
I never met Aaron. But I know this: he was one of us. A dreamer. A builder. A tech bro. A believer in something larger than himself. And he should not be forgotten.
The seed for this project was planted years ago, when I heard Peter Thiel speak about how our culture war has gotten so sharp, how our small differences have bred large divides. He suggested a way to mend this rift: we should honor those who unite us. He spoke of a ticker-tape parade for Satoshi Nakamoto in New York.
I took that idea seriously. I researched how to make it happen. But I was one man with no institution behind me. It was too much to do alone.
And then, a year later, I came across Monumental Labs—a company that sculpts marble statues with robotic arms. By then, I was moving to San Francisco. And in that moment, it struck me—like a hammer to stone.
Aaron Swartz deserved a statue. A monument to what he stood for. Not a tiny plaque—but something permanent, carved into history itself.
I reached out to Aaron’s mother. I cannot express enough gratitude for her allowing me to pursue this vision. But visions alone do not bring marble to life.
I had no money. I had no location. And without a location, I could get no permits. And without permits, I could raise no funds.
It was a cold-start problem. So I did the only thing I could. I took a leap of faith.
I emptied the small savings I had and spent it on the design. And once we had something tangible, something real—something Aaron’s mother could look at and say yes, this is him—we began carving.
I signed the contract to pay for the full statue, knowing I did not yet have the money. But once the chisel touched stone, the world responded.
I want to thank Max Novendstern, our greatest benefactor. Richard Craib, the first to believe in this project when it was just an idea. Eoghan McCabe, Martin Köppelmann, Erik Voorhees, Riva Tez—without your generosity, this would not have been possible. I want to thank Noah Kumin from the Mars Review of Books for being our fiscal sponsor. I want to thank the Internet Archive for giving this statue a temporary home, sheltering it until we can place it in the public square.
And to Lisa, Evan, and all my friends who helped bring this moment to life—I am indebted to you.
But this statue is not just about remembering Aaron. It is about remembering what he stood for.
I am not here to sell you politics—left, right—these are words with shifting meanings, shadows on the wall. I am speaking of something deeper, something older, something that once defined what it meant to be part of the internet.
- Freedom of Speech.
- Freedom of Access to Information
- Privacy
These are not just principles; they are pillars. The foundation upon which innovation, discovery, and human progress stand. Without them, we do not advance—we wither.
And make no mistake: the battle is not over.
The same forces Aaron stood against are still here. Builders are still being hunted. We have seen voices silenced, ideas buried, knowledge locked away. Now, under the banner of “safety,” even artificial intelligence—our greatest frontier—is being muzzled.
This is not about one nation, one ideology, one faction. It is about something larger. It is about the internet itself.
This statue stands as a reminder. Not to teach you something new, but to help you remember what you already know.
Aaron Swartz stood for Internet Values: Freedom of Speech. Freedom of Access. And Privacy.
Let us remember him not just in stone, but in action.
Let us honor him by keeping the fight for the free internet alive. thank you