Killer App — Pavel Durov and the story of Telegram
Darren Loucaides investigates the Russian tech billionaire behind the messaging platform and the anti-authoritarian mystique that helped it attract a billion global users
In the pantheon of tech oddballs determined to run our future, Pavel Durov has earned his place. He may not be as well known as Mark Zuckerberg or Elon Musk but the Russian founder of messaging app Telegram has all the right credentials: a nomadic billionaire who makes grandiose libertarian proclamations, regards himself as a martyr to free speech and has an unknown (but likely substantial) number of children.
More than anything, he has the right story: born in Soviet St Petersburg, he is said to have built a privacy-focused app after Kremlin-related forces took over his first company, forcing him to flee the country. Who better to know the importance of safe communication?
For more than five years, Darren Loucaides, a contributing journalist for Wired magazine, has been investigating the anti-authoritarian mystique that has helped Telegram to reach a billion global users. Killer App is the result of that work. As he traces the company’s complicated origins, the story he hears is one in which pragmatism takes precedence over idealism. Ambition, too, goes far beyond start-up land. Loucaides writes: “Durov believed that platform bosses were in the process of constructing virtual states, ones that would ultimately supersede national governments. [Telegram] would be the embodiment of this vision.”
If you have never used Telegram, the easiest way to think of it is as a cross between X and WhatsApp. It combines free direct messaging with large groups and social media-style public channels, plus games, shopping and payments. It may not be as popular in the US and western Europe as iMessage or WhatsApp but it has benefited from suspicion that Silicon Valley is careless with our data, presenting itself as a more secure alternative. It is notable for being present on both sides of global battlefields, used by Russian and Ukrainian militaries, Hamas and the Israel Defense Forces.
The app was created by Durov and his older brother Nikolai, a maths prodigy, in 2013 while the pair worked at Durov’s first start-up, a Facebook-alike called VKontakte (VK). As President Vladimir Putin tightened his grip over Russia’s internet access, VK came under pressure, encouraging Durov to seek out a new venture.
Durov later denied any links between VK and Telegram but, speaking to past and current investors, executives, co-workers at both companies and experts, Loucaides lays out the details of a messier story. These include suggestions of a deal dispute at VK, a fight over Telegram’s intellectual property and a bizarre claim by Durov that his resignation from VK was an April Fools’ joke.
Loucaides portrays some of the fights as motivated more by money than politics and he intimates Durov’s noisy protests online contrasted with private co-operation. In Loucaides’ words, he is not quite “the crusading dark angel of the digital age”. Nor did he live in exile after selling his stake in VK. He continued to travel back and forth to Russia.
The real kick in the teeth for Telegram fans might be the chapter on security concerns. The app’s lack of default end-to-end encryption is known, as is the fact that some security experts have criticised its proprietary cryptographic protocol. But human rights groups have also accused Telegram of possible co-operation with the Kremlin by allowing it to intercept dissident messages. In his reporting, Loucaides can find no evidence to prove this. But he asks the alarming question of whether a more tacit arrangement might have been reached. “After all, instances of Telegram dealing with authorities in other countries were cropping up. And in those cases, Durov continued to prioritise business interests over the principles he claimed to be bound by.”
Two more things have brought Telegram to global attention in recent years. One is Durov’s claim that he has fathered more than 100 children and plans to “open source” his DNA. The second is his arrest in 2024 by French authorities. He was charged with complicity in the dissemination of child sexual abuse material, drug trafficking and fraud through failure to co-operate with legal requests. The arrest of a tech platform chief executive was seen by some as an attack on free speech. “Dangerous times,” tweeted Musk.
Here again, Loucaides argues that Durov’s public defiance contrasts with quiet compromise. Telegram’s original privacy policy read “We never share your data with anyone. No.” This was catnip to criminals but was also popular with people living in countries under heavy digital surveillance. It has since been tweaked to clarify that terrorist or criminal activity could result in disclosure of a user’s IP address and phone number. Durov has been allowed to leave France.
The literature on tech companies not living up to their lofty ideals and disappointing hopeful young users or employees is already plentiful. Killer App’s exhaustive recounting of the compromises and brawls involved in building a global tech company, and one that was created outside the US, makes it a useful addition to the canon. Nonetheless, the author’s fruitless cat-and-mouse chase to interview Durov would have sat better had the Telegram CEO not granted audiences to other publications, including the FT.
A sign of our times is the fact that these stories often end with the continued success of the company featured. Telegram is no exception. It has been banned, sued and appeared on the brink of financial crisis. And yet it reports user numbers that keep growing and its moderator-lite, pro-crypto approach is well suited to the second Trump administration (as is Durov’s peculiar interest in other men’s testosterone levels). Durov may be less ideologue than shape-shifting pragmatist, but so is the sector that built his fortune.
