VPNs that work where VPNs are blocked

Mullvad has spent fifteen years removing things. There is no account in the usual sense: you are issued a random number, you add time to it, and nobody asks who you are. You can pay in cash by post. The price is five euros a month at one month and at ten years, so the pricing page has nothing to compare and no reason to hurry you. Its value is in that flatness rather than in the length of the feature list.

The strongest thing anyone can say about a no-logs promise is that it was tested, and Mullvad's was. In 2023 Swedish police arrived with a warrant, searched the company's servers and left empty-handed, because there was nothing on them to take. The servers run from memory rather than disk, and every app is open source, so the claim is checkable rather than merely stated.

The cost is that the product is deliberately small, and you will meet the edges quickly. Five devices is the limit and it cannot be raised. There is no port forwarding, split tunnelling only pushes apps out of the tunnel rather than pulling them in, and streaming is not supported. Sweden also shares intelligence with thirteen other governments, which is the one thing about its privacy that Mullvad cannot answer by design.

Windscribe asks less of you than almost anything else you can buy. Registration takes no email address and no password. One subscription covers as many devices as you own, free tier included. And if you only ever connect to three countries, you can buy three rather than the whole network, which is a pricing idea nobody else has tried. The ease of use and the value both come from the same instinct: charge honestly, and ask for nothing you do not need.

Its privacy case rests on something harder to fake than a promise. The company publishes a running count of legal requests received and complied with, and the second number has stayed at zero because there has never been anything on the servers to hand over — a position it has held through actual court proceedings, and again when police seized a machine and found a stock install running from memory.

What you give up is jurisdiction, and it is not a small thing. Windscribe Limited is registered in Ontario under Ontario law, which puts it inside the five-country intelligence agreement that most people buying a VPN are trying to get away from. The last outside review of its server software was in June 2024, so it now sits just outside what this site counts as recently checked.

ExpressVPN is the one that gets out of the way. You install it, press the button, and it connects quickly to something sensible without asking you to pick a protocol or a server. On networks that interfere with VPN traffic it works around them automatically rather than making you find the obfuscation setting. If a VPN is infrastructure you would rather not think about, this is the one that asks least of your attention.

Behind that, the servers hold nothing on disk and rebuild themselves from a known state on every restart, which is a genuinely good architecture and has been reviewed by an outside firm. There are apps for everything, including televisions, and a browser extension that works on its own.

The cost is money and it is substantial. The introductory rate covers a little over two years, after which it renews annually at roughly three times what you were quoted. The evidence is also thinner than the marketing implies: the most recent review checked the controls as they stood on a single day rather than over a period, the apps have not been examined since 2024, and the code for them is closed. Router firmware, long a selling point, has been discontinued.

Surfshark is built for a household rather than a person. One subscription covers unlimited devices, which is the difference between protecting your own laptop and protecting everyone's phones, televisions and tablets without counting. The apps are good, there are proper television builds, and it will route you through two servers or block ads before they load.

The evidence behind it is stronger than its reputation suggests. The whole fleet runs from memory with nothing written to disk, Deloitte produced a reasonable-assurance report on the no-logs claim in 2025 after assessing the servers themselves, and a separate firm penetration-tested the network infrastructure later that year.

The cost is at renewal, and it is what holds the value score down. The rate on the advertisement covers twenty-seven months in one charge, after which it renews annually at roughly double the effective monthly figure. The Netherlands is also inside the fourteen-country intelligence agreement, which is easy to miss when a service is described as a privacy-friendly European option. The apps are closed source, and IPv6 is not supported at all — the guidance is to switch it off on your network.

The design decision here is to sell access and charge for it. This is a service bought by people who need a connection to work from a network that actively blocks such connections, and its reputation rests on continuing to work where that is difficult. Independent testing bears out the performance half of the claim: measured across four regions, the tunnel cost almost nothing in throughput, and in one region the protected connection tested faster than the unprotected one.

The mechanism is a proprietary stack, a large engineering effort aimed at obfuscation, and a price that funds it. The subscription costs several times the market's usual monthly rate, with no discount for committing to a longer term, and extra simultaneous devices and higher-capacity servers are charged on top of that again.

The catch is what the privacy policy says. The company retains the last twenty connection records for each account, including the time and duration of each session, the country, and the device type, tied to the registered email address. It describes this as a support tool, which it may well be, and it is still a record of when you connected and for how long. No outside firm has examined any of it, and the interface has been described by testers as dated and awkward.

Proton VPN is the rare free tier that is not a lead magnet. There is no data cap and no expiry: the company says it will be free forever, and the paid plan exists to add servers and speed rather than to unlock the basic function. That alone makes it the answer for anyone who wants protection on a laptop without a subscription decision attached.

The paid product is unusually well evidenced. Every year for five years an outside firm has gone into the server infrastructure and checked that the no-logs promise matches what the machines actually do, and every report has been published rather than summarised. Switzerland sits outside the intelligence-sharing arrangements. The apps are open source, port forwarding works, and there are proper television apps rather than a phone app stretched sideways.

The thing to weigh is responsiveness. Of everything measured on the same bench, Proton adds the most delay before a page starts loading — bulk downloads finish quickly, but video calls and ordinary browsing feel a step behind in a way you notice within a minute. Signing up also needs an email address, which is a smaller thing but worth knowing if anonymity is the point.

Private Internet Access does the thing almost nobody else does: it publishes the source code for every app it ships, on every platform. You do not have to believe the no-logs claim on the strength of a marketing page, because you can read what the software actually does — and an outside firm has separately inspected the servers and their configuration to check that the infrastructure matches.

It is also generous in the ways that cost money. There is no limit on simultaneous devices. Port forwarding works, which matters if you torrent. There is a proxy included alongside the tunnel, apps for televisions, and a three-year plan that renews at exactly what you paid rather than stepping up.

The thing to weigh is where it lives. This is a Colorado company operating under US law, inside the five-country intelligence agreement, and no amount of open source changes which courts can issue an order. The company's answer is that it has been asked and had nothing to give, which it publishes. The kill switch is also the weak point: under testing it allowed traffic past the tunnel after a restart, which is worse than not having one.

Most no-logs promises are checked, if at all, by a firm the company hired. This one was checked by an opponent. A two-month information injunction sought customer data, the company fought it, and it won on the ground that the data being demanded did not exist to hand over. That is a stronger class of evidence than any audit, because the party asking the question wanted a different answer.

The mechanism behind it is deliberate and physical. The company builds and owns its servers rather than renting capacity, and runs them without disks, so there is no persistent storage for connection records to accumulate in. It carries insurance to cover the legal costs of defending that position, which is an unusual thing to buy and a revealing one.

The cost is threefold. There has never been an independent audit, so everything except the court case rests on the company's word. The device allowance on the monthly plan is low enough that you will have to choose which machines to protect, and it rises only if you commit for longer. And since 2023 the company has been owned by an American group that also sells several other VPN brands — announced openly at the time, and not mentioned anywhere a new visitor would see it.

NordVPN has done the evidence work more thoroughly than anyone. Six times now an outside firm has gone into the infrastructure under a formal assurance standard, interviewed staff, inspected the servers and checked the configuration against what the privacy policy claims — most recently Deloitte, at the end of 2025. Panama sits outside the intelligence-sharing agreements. The servers hold nothing on disk.

The product around that is broad. It will route you through two servers, reach the Tor network without a separate browser, and disguise the fact that you are using a VPN at all on networks built to block them. There are proper apps for televisions and a browser extension that works without the desktop app running.

The catch is what you actually pay. The rate on the advertising covers twenty-seven months in a single charge, and what it renews at is more than three times that number — a subscription whose real cost arrives two years after you decided, when comparing it against anything else has become inconvenient. The audit report is also not published: you can read it only after logging in to an account you have already paid for.

IVPN is built on the position that most people asking for a VPN do not need one, and says so on its own site rather than in an interview. Registration issues a random account identifier: no email address, no password, nothing tying the account to a person unless you volunteer it. Cash by post is accepted on any term of a year or longer.

The engineering follows the argument. Every client is open source under GPLv3, multi-hop routing through two countries is included on the cheapest plan rather than sold as a tier, and the desktop apps run a system firewall that blocks everything outside the tunnel and can be left on across a reboot. AntiTracker filters ads and trackers at DNS level, and connections can be disguised with V2Ray on every platform.

The cost is that the audit record is thinner than the annual cadence suggests. Cure53 has examined the service every year, but the 2025 engagement covered the mail and DNS side products; the gateways you connect through were last audited in February 2023, and the no-logs claim itself only ever in March 2019 — a format the company says it will not repeat. Five devices is the ceiling on Standard, and no plan offers port forwarding.

TunnelBear treats being understood as the product. The app is two switches and a map; the kill switch is called VigilantBear and the obfuscation GhostBear, and the effect is that somebody who has never thought about protocols never has to. No plan caps devices, including the free one, so nothing has to be planned around.

Behind the cartoon is an unusually long review record. Cure53 has assessed the service repeatedly since 2017 — its 2023 report calls itself the eleventh such review — and these are white-box tests covering the apps, the backend, the server configurations and the public interfaces rather than a questionnaire. The annual audit that competitors now advertise is a practice this company started.

The catch is that the record is thinner at the recent end than the cadence suggests, and the product is narrow. No report was ever published for the 2024 audit; it exists only as a company summary posted fourteen months late, and the ninth is described as finished and has never been written up. An independent lab found the kill switch leaks after a reboot and after a crash. There is no Linux app, nothing for a television, no port forwarding, no multi-hop and no attempt at streaming — the support pages say so directly.

IPVanish sells one subscription with no limit on simultaneous connections, and means it: an independent lab ran eleven at once without hitting a ceiling. The apps are first-party on seven platform families including Apple TV, Android TV and Fire TV, which is broader television coverage than most of the market manages. Threat Protection filters ads and trackers at DNS level on every plan.

What makes the entry worth reading is older than that. In 2016, under previous ownership, the company answered a Homeland Security administrative summons with a subscriber's name, email address, home IP address and the times they connected and disconnected — after first replying that it kept no usage information, then suggesting the agency come back with a more detailed demand. It has changed hands twice since, and Schellman Compliance examined the no-logs claim in February 2025.

The thing to weigh is whether that audit answers the history. The fleet is still, by the company's own account, a mixture of disk-based and RAM-only machines and will not be fully diskless until 2027, so there is more to examine than at services built to retain nothing. A lab found the kill switch leaks after a reboot, a crash and a dropped connection. And the first year costs $46.68 while the second costs $99.99.

hide.me is run by a Malaysian company, and the free plan is the part worth knowing first: no account, no email address, no card, no data cap and no expiry. You download it and you are protected. That is a different proposition from a free tier with a countdown attached, and the company treats it as a product rather than a funnel.

The paid plan is unusually complete for the price. Ten devices, first-party apps across nine platform families including Apple TV and Fire TV, split tunnelling in both directions, and a multi-hop mode where you pick both the entry and the exit server rather than choosing from fixed pairs. IPv6 is carried inside the tunnel on every location rather than blocked, which is the harder of the two ways to solve that problem.

The downside is what the audit covers and how much sits behind the paid tier. Securitum examined the no-logging claim properly — interviews, configuration, a server image — but dated its report 7 June 2024, past the two-year line this directory draws. Whether the servers run without disks cannot be settled from published sources. And the ad blocker, the proxy, the streaming servers and port forwarding are all for paying subscribers only.

PureVPN sells a very cheap long term from a British Virgin Islands company, with the group itself run from Karachi. What the subscription covers is broad: ten devices, first-party apps across nine platform families down to Apple TV and Fire TV, servers picked out for individual streaming services, and an ad and tracker blocker on every tier.

The reason to read the entry is a 2017 federal case. An FBI affidavit records that the company supplied records tying one customer account to two originating IP addresses — a home connection and an employer's — precisely the category a no-logs policy is understood to exclude. Its answer at the time was that it had not broken its policy because it kept no browsing history, which was a defence about a question nobody had asked.

The tradeoff is that the reassurance has aged and the price has a second half. The last independent assessment ran in February 2023; the company describes an always-on arrangement letting an auditor arrive unannounced, but a standing permission is not an assessment that happened, and its own pages no longer name the firm that did the last one. The long plan charges once for twenty-seven months and then renews yearly, and port forwarding and a dedicated address are extra.

A no-logs promise asks the same thing of a reader every time: trust that a company able to see both who you are and what you did chooses not to write it down. This service is built to remove the question. Traffic is relayed through this company's servers to exit servers run by a separate company, so the business taking your payment cannot decrypt what you are doing, and the business that can decrypt it never learns who you are.

The rest follows from that decision. The client's source is published rather than described, the connection is obfuscated to survive networks that block VPN traffic, and the two-hop path is the product rather than a premium feature. If your objection to VPNs is that they move trust rather than remove it, this answers it directly.

The costs are real. There is a macOS client and an iOS application, and nothing for Windows, Linux or Android. Nobody outside the company has examined the design or the code — published source is an invitation to check, not a report that somebody did. The company is American, so it sits inside the five-country arrangement. And $8 a month with no annual rate works out above the going yearly price.