The Best VPNs of 2025

There was a time when anonymity meant slipping out of a drawing room unnoticed, not concealing your IP address from a Lithuanian data broker. The modern world is less forgiving. Every click, every purchase, every ill-judged Google search “is it bad to microwave cutlery” is catalogued by some invisible clerk in Silicon Valley.

Privacy in 2025 is no longer a right, it is a luxury item. And like all luxury items, it comes with a subscription fee.

Enter the VPN, the digital equivalent of a velvet smoking jacket: utterly unnecessary until you have tried one, after which you feel indecent without it. A VPN, for the uninitiated, is a Virtual Private Network, which sounds suspiciously like something invented by MI6 to confuse the French. In truth, it is a small piece of software that disguises your internet connection, encrypts your data, and makes you appear to be browsing from Geneva rather than Guildford.

It is part cloak, part passport, part invisibility potion. And in the right hands, it is rather dashing.

At The Gentleman’s Journal, we have spent the past few weeks disappearing and reappearing across continents with the help of 2025’s best VPNs. Not to evade justice, you understand, but purely for research. We have been to Zurich in milliseconds, watched American Netflix in Mayfair, and convinced at least one algorithm that we live in Reykjavík.

Here is what we discovered while conducting the most civilised act of espionage since Bond wore black tie to a casino.

Let us begin with NordVPN, because to start anywhere else would be like discussing champagne without mentioning Bollinger. NordVPN is, by all reasonable accounts, the monarch of modern privacy, reliable, regal, and faintly smug about it.

The first thing one notices is speed. Many VPNs, when activated, slow your internet connection to the pace of a country post office. Nord, however, gallops. Its new NordWhisper protocol and post-quantum encryption, which sounds suspiciously like something invented to impress Cambridge graduates, deliver one of the fastest and most secure browsing experiences available.

Independent audits have confirmed its saintly behaviour: no logs, no leaks, no nonsense. Its Double VPN routing encrypts your data twice, in case the first encryption becomes bored. You can also enable Meshnet, which allows devices to connect securely over private networks, as if your laptop were hosting its own clandestine soirée.

The interface is so polished you almost expect it to offer you a canapé. One click and you vanish, digitally speaking. Suddenly your browsing data is bouncing through Iceland, Switzerland, or some distant data centre so pristine it probably smells faintly of cedar.

Yes, it is slightly more expensive than its rivals, but then so is a Bentley. If you value discretion, elegance, and speed, NordVPN is the Savile Row of invisibility.

If NordVPN is Bond in a tuxedo, Proton VPN is George Smiley in a wool overcoat, quietly brilliant, morally upright, and far more principled than anyone else in the room.

Born in Switzerland (of course), Proton VPN shares its DNA with ProtonMail, the encrypted email service beloved of journalists, whistle-blowers, and anyone who has ever described themselves as “privacy-conscious” at a dinner party. It is, in essence, the VPN for people who iron their conscience.

Its Secure Core network reroutes traffic through fortified servers in privacy-friendly nations like Switzerland and Iceland, ensuring that even if a cyber-villain attempts to peek, they will be staring into a blizzard of mathematics. There is also split tunnelling, which lets you choose which apps use the VPN and which go rogue, ideal for those who want Netflix to believe they are in the US while their bank continues to think they are responsibly in Chelsea.

Performance is excellent, speed barely falters, and the free tier (genuinely free, not the “trial followed by a guilt trip” variety) is among the most generous in existence. It lacks the endless third-party audits of NordVPN, but it compensates with an air of sincerity rarely found online.

Using Proton VPN feels virtuous, like buying fair-trade coffee or rescuing a tortoise. One imagines its engineers wear cardigans and speak softly about ethics. It is the VPN for those who would rather be right than rich, and who probably browse the news on a dark-themed browser.

There is something irresistibly Mayfair club about ExpressVPN. It is polished, efficient, and just the tiniest bit self-satisfied, the VPN equivalent of a man who wears double-monk shoes and calls everyone “old boy.”

ExpressVPN has built its reputation on speed and simplicity. Installation takes moments, the app looks handsome on every device, and it works everywhere, from a London townhouse to a questionable Wi-Fi network in Mykonos. One tap, and you are instantaneously elsewhere, streaming Succession from a New York IP or watching cricket from Mumbai with no discernible lag.

Its encryption is impeccable, and its privacy policies have been audited so many times they could qualify for sainthood. ExpressVPN keeps no logs, leaks nothing, and maintains more global server locations than the British Empire at its peak.

It is, however, rather dear. But so are tailored suits and first-class cabins, and one suspects its users enjoy both. The experience is so smooth you half expect a valet to appear with a hot towel. For those who desire privacy without complication, who wish to be invisible without effort, ExpressVPN is the digital concierge par excellence.

And then there is Surfshark, the cheerful upstart that refuses to behave like one. It is the VPN equivalent of a charming dinner guest who turns out to have a PhD.

Surfshark’s selling point is its generosity: unlimited devices on one subscription. You, your family, your dog’s smartwatch, all can vanish online together like a small, encrypted commune. Performance is quick, the interface refreshingly uncluttered, and the price suspiciously reasonable.

It is less formidable than NordVPN or Proton VPN in its technical rigour, and its streaming performance occasionally hiccups like an over-excited butler, but for everyday use it is superb. There is even an in-built ad blocker that politely removes the internet’s more garish invitations before you have seen them.

Surfshark is not a luxury VPN, it is a friendly one. Its design feels less “cyber-fortress” and more “modern flat with excellent Wi-Fi.” Yet beneath the charm lies a surprisingly sturdy infrastructure. It is fast, secure, and determinedly democratic.

In short, Surfshark is what would happen if The Great British Bake Off produced encryption software. It may not take itself too seriously, but it performs beautifully under pressure.

At this point, it is worth pausing for those readers who regard “VPN” as a form of vitamin. In essence, a VPN builds an encrypted tunnel between your device and the wider internet, a sort of private motorway through which your data travels unseen.

To your service provider, your activities appear as little more than static. To the websites you visit, you appear to be somewhere else entirely, perhaps Oslo, perhaps Osaka, depending on your mood. The result is digital anonymity and a level of security once reserved for diplomats and people who own submarines.

The practical benefits are legion. A VPN hides your browsing from data-harvesters, lets you access streaming libraries from other countries (legally ambiguous, morally delicious), and protects your connection on public Wi-Fi, essential when one’s cappuccino habit extends to hotel lobbies.

The psychological benefits are even better. You feel like a secret agent every time you check the weather.

The idea of routing one’s traffic through distant servers once belonged to spy thrillers and the darker corners of the internet. But as privacy eroded faster than public trust in Twitter, the VPN became respectable, the modern equivalent of net curtains.

Today, one may find VPN users in every profession: bankers, journalists, influencers, even vicars. Some use it to access the BBC abroad, others to hide their affection for reality television. Whatever the motive, the principle is the same: it is nobody’s business what you are browsing at half past eleven.

The technology itself has matured. Early VPNs were sluggish affairs, riddled with dropped connections and suspicious pricing. The modern versions, by contrast, are paragons of efficiency. NordVPN’s new encryption standard claims to be “post-quantum”, a phrase so marvellously pompous one feels compelled to trust it.

Every VPN promises absolute secrecy, which is a bold claim in a world where even the toaster seems to have opinions about your habits. The truth, as always, lies in the audits.

NordVPN, ExpressVPN, and Proton VPN have all undergone independent security inspections, confirming their refusal to log user data. Proton VPN and NordVPN base themselves in privacy-friendly nations such as Switzerland and Panama, while ExpressVPN maintains an elaborate global network that would make the Foreign Office jealous.

Surfshark’s audits are newer but no less credible, and its infrastructure has improved dramatically. All employ AES-256 encryption, the same standard used by governments and anyone with a healthy distrust of governments.

So while no VPN can make you invisible to absolutely everyone, these come commendably close. You might not elude your mother, but you will certainly elude Meta.

At The Gentleman’s Journal, we can’t help noticing that the modern man’s relationship with privacy mirrors his relationship with tailoring: deeply personal, faintly performative, and far too expensive.

The VPN, in its current form, is the digital equivalent of bespoke underwear. No one sees it, but it changes the way you move through the world. You feel protected, composed, slightly superior.

There is also the quiet thrill of rebellion. When you activate a VPN, you are, however modestly, defying the global machinery of surveillance capitalism. You are whispering, in encrypted tones, “not today.” And it feels good.

Of course, one could argue that subscribing to a major VPN service is hardly radical. These companies are, after all, businesses, albeit ones selling secrecy with a smile. Yet there is something charming about the whole affair: a marketplace of privacy, complete with logos, loyalty programs, and cheerful email receipts.

It is capitalism’s most polite contradiction, buying your own anonymity one billing cycle at a time.

To summarise our wanderings through the digital underworld: NordVPN is the most complete, elegant, and confidence-inspiring of the lot. It is the Rolls-Royce of concealment, quietly powerful, beautifully engineered, and slightly unnecessary, which is precisely why it is irresistible.

Proton VPN wins hearts for its integrity, a VPN with a moral compass and the architecture to prove it. It is the thinking man’s choice, austere but admirable.

ExpressVPN remains the smooth operator, fast, global, and effortlessly chic. It is the VPN you would take to lunch at the Connaught.

Surfshark, meanwhile, provides charm, speed, and extraordinary value. It is not royalty, but it is excellent company, the affable cousin who turns out to be frightfully clever.

All four are first-class in speed, privacy, and reliability, capable of protecting one’s digital wanderings from both hackers and embarrassing pop-up ads. Choosing between them is less about performance and more about personality. Do you prefer your secrecy earnest, urbane, efficient, or affable?

VPN technology is evolving faster than parliamentary scandal. Post-quantum encryption promises to withstand even the theoretical computers of the future, while AI-driven routing will soon predict your connection habits before you do.

Soon, we may not need to toggle a VPN at all; it will activate automatically whenever we step into public Wi-Fi, much like a butler drawing the curtains.

There is talk of integrating VPNs directly into browsers, operating systems, and even vehicles. One can imagine a future Bentley offering “private browsing mode” alongside heated seats. Until then, however, the humble VPN remains the surest way to vanish from digital sight: discreetly, stylishly, and with minimal fuss.

In the end, a VPN is less about paranoia than poise. It is about reclaiming a small piece of control in a world that insists on watching. It is about turning off the lights and enjoying the quiet pleasure of being unobserved, at least for a little while.

NordVPN, Proton VPN, ExpressVPN, and Surfshark are four ways of saying, “I’ll take my data shaken, not stirred.” Each offers its own flavour of secrecy, from the lavish to the utilitarian, but all share one noble mission: to let you browse freely without leaving muddy footprints across the internet.

So raise your glass, or your encrypted connection, to the art of tasteful disappearance. In a century obsessed with exposure, privacy has never been more glamorous.

And if anyone asks where you have been online today, simply smile and say, “Everywhere, my dear fellow, and nowhere at all.”