I’ve used Chrome as my default browser for…well, a long time. I’ve not even questioned it until the beginning of last year, when I thought it started getting really slow and consumed way too much RAM. After some light investigation, I decided to look at some alternatives. I never liked Firefox, so I quickly started it, and realized I still don’t like it. Then I started searching for what I could use.

I searched for the most popular browsers for my distro, added some filters to my search, and suddenly I was faced with three distinct choices: Brave, Vivaldi, and Midori. I quickly removed Brave from the list as it’s no longer being developed. Sure, it will have some security updates coming, but no new versions are in the pipeline.
I’ve tried Midori before, but something about it rubs me the wrong way. I am, however, a pretty open guy, so I thought I’d install and try it again. It’s been a hot minute (four years, to be honest) since the last time. While it has become significantly better since I last tested it, it still felt like it gave me some mental rashes, so out it went again.
This left me trying Vivaldi. I was sceptical. Real sceptical. As much as I’ll try new stuff, I also like when shit looks and works the same as it always has. Vivaldi was selling vertical tabs as standard. I’ve tried a couple of browsers with vertical tabs, but I’ve really never understood the hype. Until now.
Since then, I’ve become one of those people.
You know the type. The annoying ones who keep bringing up vertical tabs in conversations where nobody asked. The people who start sentences with ”once you get used to it…” and then proceed to explain browser ergonomics like they’ve discovered fire.
The worst part is that they’re right.
The thing nobody tells you about vertical tabs is that they don’t really solve a browser problem. They solve a modern internet problem.
Back when I had six or seven tabs open at a time, horizontal tabs worked perfectly fine. The tab bar sat at the top, showed me what was open, and life moved on. Then somewhere along the way, the internet turned into a collection of rabbit holes. A few Google searches became twenty tabs. A YouTube video became five comparison articles. Researching one thing somehow opened three entirely unrelated subjects because my brain spotted something shiny along the way.
Suddenly, thirty tabs weren’t unusual anymore. Horizontal tabs handle this about as gracefully as a shopping cart handles Formula 1 racing.
As more tabs pile up, they start shrinking. Titles disappear. Favicons become microscopic. Eventually, you’re playing a game of browser roulette where every tab looks identical and clicking the right one becomes more luck than skill.
Vertical tabs don’t have that problem.
Instead of squeezing tabs into a space that never gets bigger, they use the one thing modern displays have an abundance of: horizontal space. Most websites still behave like it’s 2008 and leave giant empty margins on both sides of the screen. Vertical tabs simply move into that unused real estate and make it useful.
It sounds almost insultingly simple. And it works ridiculously well.
What surprised me wasn’t that I could see more tabs. What surprised me was that I started organizing them. Vivaldi lets you create tab stacks, workspaces, and all sorts of browser wizardry that I fully expected to ignore. Instead, I found myself separating research from entertainment, work from personal browsing, and ongoing projects from random internet nonsense.
Apparently, my brain likes order. Who knew?
The other thing Vivaldi got right was that it didn’t force me to change everything at once.
It actually took me a couple of months to set Vivaldi up, exactly how I like and want it. I actually read guides, installed extensions (you can use Chrome extensions), and tinkered about. It was amazing to see how much you can actually change and make your own. I was recently approached in public by a person asking me about my browser, as they’ve seen me working at a cafe. Apparently, it looks cool(!)
A week turned into a month. A month turned into six. Before I knew it, Chrome wasn’t my default browser anymore. In fact, Chrome is installed, but I never even start it anymore.
I might even uninstall it.
I never set out to replace Chrome. I wasn’t angry at Google. I wasn’t on a privacy crusade. I wasn’t trying to make a statement. I was just looking for something that felt a little faster and a little less bloated.
What I found was a browser that fit how I actually use the internet in 2026.
And yes, before anyone asks, I still think vertical tabs sounded stupid when I first heard about them. But damn, they’re a game-changer.
Some lessons have to be learned the hard way.

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