HONcode: the label that certified health websites for twenty-five years

You have probably typed a symptom into a search engine late one evening, with that familiar knot in your stomach. Up come fifty results, three contradictory opinions, a forum predicting disaster. How do you know, in that mess, whether the page you are reading is trustworthy? For more than twenty-five years, a small blue logo tried to act as a guide. Its name: HONcode.

It did exactly what a health label can do: display a promise, for all to see, on a subject where you are inevitably vulnerable.

An idea born in Geneva in 1995

The story begins with a rather frightening observation: at the dawn of the consumer web, anyone could publish anything about health, with no identifiable author, no sources, no date. The Health On the Net Foundation, set up in Geneva in 1995 by doctors and computer scientists, published its code of conduct the following year. The principle was simple: a candidate site submitted a file, underwent a review, then regular checks. The logo was not decoration; it was part of a bargain.

Close-up of the corner of a screen showing a small round blue certification badge

Major medical information portals displayed it proudly. A click on the seal opened an attestation page: the site committed in black and white to respecting ethical and conduct rules. You may like the system or not, but that scruple deserved to exist.

Eight commitments, not a sticker

Behind the logo were eight precise principles, and they are worth looking at closely, because they still sketch out what we should be able to expect from a health page today. Authority first: the qualification of the person writing — doctor, pharmacist or other health professional — had to be shown. In other words, knowing who is talking to you. Complementarity next: a note that what you are reading does not replace a consultation. That is the sentence we too often forget when looking for an answer at 11pm.

Then came confidentiality (what the site does with visitors' data), attribution (sources cited, publication and update dates shown), justification (benefits and drawbacks of a product or treatment supported by evidence, not simply asserted), transparency about the identity of the site's managers, funding (sources of income made public) and advertising policy (a clear separation between editorial content and advertising). That was the framework. Not exactly glamorous, but plenty to reassure.

Recognition... then closure

In 2007, the French health authority, the Haute Autorité de santé, listed this approach among the quality markers useful to users, giving the logo new visibility in France. A kind of official recognition: the idea that a health site should display its rules of the game.

Smartphone resting on a linen tablecloth, screen showing a blurred health information page

But the internet evolved faster than labels. In 2022, the HON Foundation announced the end of its certification: the seals disappeared from sites, and the database of certified sites was no longer updated. Not a scandal, not a moral collapse — simply the end of the road. The web had changed, content had multiplied, editorial dynamics had shifted. A label, however useful, cannot hold back that acceleration on its own.

Should we conclude that we are back to square one? Not quite. HONcode left traces: the idea that online health information should meet verifiable criteria has become part of public debate, in France and beyond.

What remains for you and me

So what is left? Public reference points — the NHS website, NICE, and the MHRA in the UK; the European Medicines Agency for Europe. A European framework for apps that claim a medical purpose, with CE marking under Regulation 2017/745, and the UKCA mark for Great Britain. And, on social media, the UK's advertising codes require health claims to be substantiated, while France's 2023 law regulates commercial influence, health included. That is the current institutional landscape. It is not nothing.

The rest is up to you — and do not worry, it takes five minutes. Before trusting a health page, a few questions are often enough. Who wrote it? A name, a profession, a verifiable track record. When? A publication date and an update date. Where does the information come from? Cited sources, studies or official recommendations. Who pays? Funding disclosed, advertising kept separate from content.

Magnifying glass resting on a printed health article, a passage highlighted but illegible

And this question, perhaps the most important: does it promise something? Guaranteed outcomes, quick solutions, fear being sold, a miracle product — those are the warning signs. In practice, remember this: an article helps you understand, a health professional helps you decide. The two go together; they are not opposed. Talk it over with your GP, pharmacist or midwife.

Today, we also ask questions of an AI assistant rather than a search engine. The question remains the same, really: what sources, what date, what author? The reflex changes, the caution does not.

A site that ranks well is not a reliable site. Ranking can be paid for; rigour has to be checked. And if a health page tries to sell you a solution before it has even explained the problem, look elsewhere.