Backbones • Optics • AI

Internet Big Bang, Twenty Five Years Later

Looking back at the original Internet Big Bang paper with the benefit of 25 years of upgrades, scars, and entirely new kinds of networks.

Neon city skyline backdrop for the Internet Big Bang retrospective

A huge hat tip to Curtis Villamizar, who wrote the original “Internet Big Bang Theory” white paper during his time at Avici. This update is my look back at where those ideas landed; any mistakes here are mine, not his.

Around 2000, the original paper argued that the backbone of the Internet was going through something that looked a lot like cosmology. Capacity was expanding at a rate that felt unbelievable if you grew up on voice networks and TDM. There was a lot of talk about all-optical cores, ATM overlays, and infinite scaling. The paper did something important. It separated the slideware from the physics and said, in plain terms, that routers, protocols, and optics all had hard limits.

This version looks back with twenty five years of hindsight. For people who lived through those early years, the backbone often felt like something between public utility and quiet science fiction, a shared network that kept expanding at the edges of what seemed possible. It asks three questions. First, how did the public Internet backbone actually evolve. Second, who ended up carrying most of the traffic in practice. Third, where is the real “Big Bang” now that AI, cloud, and private fabrics exist. The short answer is that the original instincts were mostly right. Fully optical cores did not arrive. Packet routers never went away. The hardest problems moved from raw bandwidth to control plane complexity, traffic locality, and where we place compute.

We will walk through what changed in the backbone, how hyperscalers and content networks reshaped the map, and why the fastest expansion today is happening inside data centers and AI fabrics rather than on the public Internet alone.

Original PDF: Download the Internet Big Bang Theory paper (courtesy of Curtis Villamizar and Avici) to compare the original framing with where we are now.

The first Big Bang the paper saw

If you plot the early Internet on a log scale, it does not look like a gentle technology curve. It looks like a cliff. In just over a decade, typical backbone links went from tens of kilobits per second to hundreds of megabits, and then into early multi-gigabit territory. For engineers who grew up on DS0s and DS1s, it really did feel like a different universe.

The original paper looked at the Internet from the early days of NSFNET through to about 2000. In that window, backbone capacity jumped by roughly six orders of magnitude. That is the kind of number that makes people reach for cosmology analogies.

The path looked roughly like this in order-of-magnitude steps:

At the same time, IP was often running on top of ATM or frame relay. That gave operators some tools for virtual circuits and traffic isolation, but it also created scaling problems. Full mesh overlays looked elegant as diagrams and fragile as real networks.

Before that paper was ever a PDF on an Avici web page, it was a conversation. I remember sitting with Curtis, treating him as a mentor, talking through what felt frightening about the growth curves and what looked merely noisy. Some of those threads made their way directly into the original Internet Big Bang paper; others only show up if you know what you were looking for.

Three observations from that era still matter.

The message was simple. You were not going to scale IP by pretending the Internet was a flat mesh where every node saw everything. You were going to scale it by limiting what each router had to see and by making those routers much more capable.

What actually happened next

From 2000 through roughly 2010, the operational Internet more or less followed that script.

What the original paper did not fully predict was how much the business landscape would change. Two trends dominated.

From a control plane perspective, this had the effect the original paper implicitly wanted. The part of the network that had to be fully coherent and tightly managed was smaller than the raw map of the Internet would suggest.

Expansion without catastrophe

The original Big Bang framing was driven by growth curves. Access speeds were rising. Applications were moving from simple web pages to rich media. It was reasonable to assume that backbones would need at least one or two more decimal orders of magnitude of capacity.

That happened. The way it happened is important.

Capacity along three axes

Between roughly 2000 and 2025, Internet and cloud backbones grew along three main axes. A conservative way to say it is that many large backbones saw at least another two orders of magnitude of aggregate capacity, often more when you count multipath and private backbones layered on top of public transit.

If you look at the total bps across the core of a major provider, you can see the additional two to three orders of magnitude that the original paper suspected would be necessary. Networks grew aggressively, but they did not violate physics.

Control plane discipline

The more fragile part of the story in 2000 was not bandwidth. It was the control plane.

The way the industry handled this was aligned with the earlier guidance.

The result is that today you can find networks with thousands of nodes and very large aggregate capacity, but no single box is responsible for carrying a complete view of the entire system at full resolution. The load is partitioned.

All-optical ambitions and mixed cores

Around the time the original paper was written, “all optical backbones” were popular in marketing material. The idea was simple to describe. Photons go in at one edge of the network, they travel through a cloud of optical switches, and they come out at another edge without ever meeting an electronic router in the middle.

The original paper treated this with caution. The concerns were straightforward.

The conclusion was that optics would be essential for capacity, but packet routers at the edges of optical domains would remain the brains of the network. The future would be mixed, not purely photonic.

That is exactly what we see in practice.

We did not get a pure optical core that replaced routers. We got exactly the mixed architecture that seemed most realistic in 2000.

How big we made it and where the wall moved

The original “how big can we make this” section ran a thought experiment. If you assume routers with hundreds of high speed interfaces, DWDM systems filling multiple fiber pairs, and reasonable assumptions about failure domains and manageability, then you can see a path to another two or three orders of magnitude. You do not see a path to another six in a handful of years.

What happened in the real world followed the same pattern, but the wall moved.

Better hardware than expected

From the vantage point of the late 1990s, it was already bold to talk about routers filled with OC-192 and OC-768 interfaces and DWDM shelves lighting dozens of lambdas on a fiber pair. The cautious assumption was that we might reach those numbers, but only in the largest networks and only after a long, expensive transition.

One of the clearest personal markers for me was seeing what a fully built fourteen-bay AVICI TSR would look like on the Avici floor, having just come from a world where the Cisco GSR had been the reference point for “big router.” On paper they were both large systems. In person the scale difference was obvious in a way you do not forget once you have walked around it.

The conservative assumptions in 2000 did not account for the full pace of optical and silicon innovation.

This pushed the raw capacity ceiling higher than a cautious engineer in 2000 would have been comfortable forecasting. A backbone that might have been designed around a handful of 2.5G or 10G trunks between regions is now more likely to have a bundle of 100G, 400G, or 800G waves, often across multiple diverse paths, and that is before you count private cloud backbones and region-to-region fabrics.

Topology as a control knob

The bigger shift, though, was not just hardware. It was topology and traffic locality.

Instead of every backbone carrying every bit, each network carried more of its own traffic and fewer long distance flows. The load was still massive, but it was better organized.

The Big Bang inside the data center

From a 2025 perspective, the most extreme growth is not on the classic Internet backbone. It is inside and between data centers.

The same questions reappear. How much traffic can a single fabric carry. How much state can a single control plane handle. How do we carve these systems into manageable domains.

The answers look familiar too. We use hierarchy, modular designs, optical transport, and packet based control.

The new Big Bang: AI fabrics and private backbones

If the first Internet Big Bang was about reaching global scale for general purpose connectivity, the current one is about concentrating extreme capacity into specialized domains.

AI and large scale cloud fabrics change the problem in a few ways.

To keep this workable, designers lean on the same principles the original paper relied on.

The Big Bang moved. The tools did not change as much as the application did. If you stand in the middle of a modern AI fabric and look at the diagrams, it can feel a little like a city from a cyberpunk novel drawn in optics and ECMP paths instead of neon and alleys.

What the original paper got right and what it missed

It is worth being explicit about what the original argument got right, because those instincts are still useful when we look at AI fabrics and future backbones.

Looking back, several points from the original Internet Big Bang analysis stand up well.

There were also gaps, which would have been hard to avoid at the time.

Despite those gaps, the core engineering instincts were sound. Do not believe in infinite scaling from one architecture. Expect to hit walls. Plan the next architecture before you arrive there. When we design very large systems today, the same discipline applies. We should assume that the current fabric or backbone design has a comfortable operating window, and we should know roughly where that window ends before we are forced into it by growth.

Implications for today’s architects

This history is interesting, but it is more useful if it changes how we design the next wave of networks and fabrics. A few practical implications stand out.

These are not new rules. They are the same rules we saw play out between 1990 and 2025, now applied to a world where GPUs, AI cores, and private backbones drive much of the demand.

Last word for now

The Internet did not violate physics. It did something more familiar to engineers. It kept changing shape to avoid dead ends.

The past twenty five years confirmed a few durable ideas.

From a distance, this looks like a sequence of Big Bangs. Each generation of backbone, cloud core, or AI fabric expands until it hits the limits of its tools. Then we invent just enough new tools, and sometimes new business models, to move the limit a bit further out.

Cosmology still debates the long term fate of the universe. Network engineering is more pragmatic. We assume the next wall is coming. We try to see it early. Then we build the next system that will carry us past it.

If someone writes another update to this story in twenty five years, I hope I am still around to read it. I also expect I will care less about how the next fabric works than I once did. By then, most of the heavy lifting will belong to another generation of engineers and to the AI systems they train. That is how it should be. Our job was to move the wall a little further out and leave enough notes behind that the next team knows where to start.

Designing your next fabric?

Jim DeLeskie helps teams move from backbone instincts to AI-era fabrics without losing stability or sleep.

deleskie@gmail.com · LinkedIn

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