The Rise of Techno Feudalism

Power, Control, and Democracy in the Digital Age

In October 2022, as I watched Elon Musk carry a sink into Twitter’s headquarters — a $44 billion acquisition that would soon result in mass layoffs and platform chaos — I couldn’t help but reflect on how we arrived at this moment. Just five individuals now control companies worth more than the GDP of most nations. Together, Meta (formerly Facebook), Apple, Microsoft, Amazon, and Alphabet (Google) commanded a staggering market capitalization of over $7 trillion at their peak in 2021, though 2022’s market correction has tempered those numbers somewhat.

We are witnessing the emergence of what I call techno-feudalism — a digital reincarnation of medieval power structures where Silicon Valley lords command vast digital estates, collecting data-rents from billions of users while exercising unprecedented control over our social, economic, and political lives. The parallel isn’t perfect, but it’s illuminating. Just as medieval peasants were bound to their lords’ lands, we find ourselves increasingly dependent on digital platforms we neither own nor control. When Amazon Web Services experienced an outage in December 2021, it took down nearly a third of the internet with it. When Meta’s platforms went dark for six hours in October 2021, entire economies that depend on WhatsApp and Facebook ground to a halt. This isn’t just market dominance; it’s digital dependency at a civilizational scale.

I’ve spent the last decade studying power structures in the digital age, and what I’ve observed is a fundamental transformation of democratic capitalism into something more reminiscent of feudal systems of old. But unlike medieval feudalism, which was limited by physical geography and resources, techno-feudalism operates in an infinite digital realm where data is the new land, attention is the new currency, and algorithms are the new armies. The implications for democracy, personal freedom, and human agency are profound, and as we approach 2025 with increasing political instability, understanding these power dynamics becomes not just academically interesting but crucial for our collective future.

From Castles to Cloud Servers

When I first began exploring the parallels between medieval feudalism and our current tech landscape, I turned to historian Marc Bloch’s classic work on feudal society. He described a system where power flowed from control of land, where lords offered protection in exchange for labor and loyalty, and where the masses were bound by both necessity and custom to their local manor. Today, as I scroll through my various feeds and check my cloud storage, I see an eerily similar pattern emerging — though the manor houses are now data centers, and the lords wear hoodies instead of crowns.

Medieval feudalism arose from the collapse of centralized Roman authority, filling the power vacuum with a hierarchical system of obligations and dependencies. Our modern parallel emerged from the ruins of Web 1.0’s promise of decentralization. The open internet of the 1990s, with its dreams of digital democracy and user empowerment, has largely given way to what Tim Berners-Lee, the web’s inventor, has called a “digital dystopia.” By 2022, the vast majority of web traffic flowed through a handful of corporate gatekeepers.

Consider this: in medieval times, peasants rarely traveled more than a few miles from their manor, conducting most of their daily activities on their lord’s land. Today, most of us rarely venture outside the digital estates of our tech lords — we wake up to Apple devices, check Google for news and navigation, communicate through Meta’s platforms, shop on Amazon, and store our digital lives in Microsoft’s cloud. The average American spent over seven hours per day in these digital fiefdoms during 2022, a number that continues to rise.

But unlike medieval serfs, we entered this arrangement voluntarily, seduced by convenience and network effects. We clicked “I Agree” on terms of service we never read, handed over our personal data for the promise of “free” services, and gradually found ourselves locked into digital ecosystems that became too costly — both financially and socially — to leave. The feudal lords of old could only dream of such willing submission to their authority.

The critical difference, and what makes techno-feudalism potentially more dangerous than its medieval predecessor, is the unprecedented scale and scope of control. Medieval lords could control their peasants’ physical labor and take a share of their crops. Today’s tech lords can monitor our behaviors, predict our desires, shape our opinions, and monetize our very existence as digital serfs. They have achieved what philosopher Michel Foucault called “biopower” — control over the fundamental aspects of human life — but at a scale and precision that would have been unimaginable even a few decades ago.

As we examine this transformation, it’s crucial to understand that this isn’t just about technology — it’s about power, governance, and the future of human agency. The stakes couldn’t be higher as we approach what may be a critical juncture in American democracy. The question isn’t whether these digital estates will continue to exist, but whether we can transform them from feudal oligarchies into something more compatible with democratic values and human flourishing.

Digital Lords

In medieval times, you could see your lord’s castle on the horizon — a constant reminder of their power and your place in the hierarchy. Today’s digital castles are far less visible: vast data centers humming in remote locations, algorithms running quietly in the background, and APIs connecting our digital lives in ways we barely comprehend. Yet their lords wield power that would make medieval monarchs envious.

Let’s look at the five families that dominated the digital landscape as of 2022. I use the term “families” deliberately, as the control these organizations exert often stems from their founders’ outsized voting rights and dual-class share structures:

Meta (formerly Facebook), under Mark Zuckerberg’s nearly absolute control, claimed 3.71 billion monthly active users across its platforms — almost half the world’s population. Through Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, and its early moves into virtual reality, Meta doesn’t just connect people; it shapes how they communicate, what information they see, and increasingly, how they perceive reality itself.

Amazon, Jeff Bezos’s empire, commanded not just e-commerce but the very infrastructure of the internet through AWS (Amazon Web Services). By late 2022, AWS hosted approximately 33% of all cloud infrastructure. When AWS hiccups, vast swaths of the internet go dark. From Slack to Netflix, countless services we rely on daily are effectively Amazon’s digital tenants.

Alphabet (Google) processes over 8.5 billion searches per day (as of 2022), effectively controlling humanity’s access to information. Through Google Search, Chrome, Android, and YouTube, the company mediates our relationship with knowledge itself. When I tried to research this book using non-Google tools, I realized just how dependent we’ve become on their information monopoly.

Apple’s walled garden might be the most profitable feudal estate in history. Through its control of iOS and the App Store, Apple extracts a “tax” of up to 30% on digital transactions within its ecosystem. Their hardware-software integration creates a moat that keeps users locked in, while their privacy-focused marketing masks their own form of data collection and control.

Microsoft, under Satya Nadella’s leadership, transformed from a traditional software company into a cloud computing giant. Through Microsoft 365, LinkedIn, GitHub, and Azure, they’ve become indispensable to both business operations and professional networking. Their late 2022 push into AI, through investments in OpenAI, suggested ambitions to control the next frontier of computing.

The combined power of these digital lords extends beyond mere market dominance. They don’t just own platforms; they own the means of digital production, distribution, and social reproduction. Their influence shapes:

• How we form and maintain relationships
• How we find and evaluate information
• How we work and collaborate
• How we entertain ourselves
• How we shop and consume
• How we create and share content
• How we store and access our memories

What makes this system feudal rather than merely monopolistic is the relationship between these companies and their users. We aren’t just customers; we’re digital peasants working their lands. Every like, share, search, and purchase becomes part of their data harvest. We generate value for them through our daily digital activities, often without compensation, while becoming increasingly dependent on their services.

The numbers tell a stark story: By the end of 2022, these five companies had a combined market capitalization that exceeded the GDP of every country except the United States and China, despite that year’s tech stock decline. Their cash reserves exceeded those of many nations. Their user bases surpassed the populations of any single country.

Mechanisms of Power Concentration

The genius of techno-feudalism lies in how naturally it emerged from seemingly democratic and capitalistic principles. As I’ve observed this transformation over the past decade, I’ve identified several key mechanisms that have enabled and perpetuated this concentration of power.

First, there’s the phenomenon of network effects — perhaps the most powerful force in the digital economy. Each new user who joins a platform makes that platform more valuable for everyone else. When I joined Facebook in its early days, I did so because that’s where my friends were. By 2022, even those who wanted to leave Meta’s platforms found themselves stuck because their entire social and professional networks resided there. The same dynamic applies to Amazon’s marketplace, Google’s search engine, and Microsoft’s professional tools.

But network effects are just the beginning. These digital estates operate on what Shoshana Zuboff termed “surveillance capitalism” — a system where our personal data is the primary commodity. Every click, every pause while scrolling, every location ping becomes raw material for their algorithmic mills. I find it telling that in 2022, even Apple, which marketed itself as a privacy champion, collected vast amounts of user data through its services while restricting other apps’ ability to do the same.

The accumulation of data creates what I call the “AI feedback loop”:

1. More users generate more data
2. More data improves AI systems
3. Better AI systems attract more users
4. Repeat

This cycle makes it nearly impossible for new competitors to emerge. By late 2022, Google had processed trillions of searches, creating an insurmountable advantage in search quality. Meta’s facial recognition systems had analyzed billions of photos. Amazon’s recommendation engine had tracked countless purchases. The moats around these digital castles grow deeper every day.

Then there’s the strategy of acquiring potential rivals. Instagram, WhatsApp, YouTube, LinkedIn, GitHub — all were independent platforms that could have evolved into competitors. Instead, they were absorbed into the digital estates of our tech lords. When acquisition isn’t possible, these companies often resort to what I call “aggressive emulation” — copying key features of potential rivals. Meta’s relentless cloning of Snapchat’s features, and later TikTok’s, provides a perfect case study.

Perhaps most insidious is the creation of digital dependency through vertical integration. Amazon isn’t just a marketplace; it’s a cloud provider, a streaming service, a grocery chain, and a healthcare provider. Google isn’t just search; it’s email, documents, phones, home automation, and internet service. This integration makes leaving these ecosystems increasingly costly and complicated.

The financial markets reinforce this concentration of power. The promise of future monopoly profits drives up stock prices, providing these companies with cheap capital to expand their empires. Even the 2022 tech stock decline didn’t fundamentally alter their ability to maintain their positions through cash reserves and steady cash flows.

What troubles me most is how these mechanisms interact with and reinforce each other, creating a self-sustaining system of power concentration. Each advantage builds upon the others, making the digital lords’ positions increasingly unassailable. The question isn’t whether this system is stable — it is — but whether it’s compatible with democratic society and human flourishing.

The Cost

As I write this on the last day of the year, with democracy under strain and a contentious 2024 election looming, the impacts of techno-feudalism on our society have become impossible to ignore. What began as a technological revolution has evolved into a fundamental restructuring of power relationships that threatens the very foundations of democratic society.

Let’s start with the most visible impact: the emergence of a new class system. At the top sit our digital lords, whose wealth accumulation has reached historic proportions. In 2022, while many Americans struggled with inflation and economic uncertainty, these tech oligarchs commanded personal fortunes that could fund entire government programs. Below them are the technical aristocracy — the engineers, designers, and executives who maintain the digital estates, often compensated with six or seven-figure salaries and equity packages.

Then there’s the digital merchant class — successful content creators, app developers, and e-commerce sellers who prosper within these platforms but remain dependent on their rules and algorithms. I’ve watched countless creators build entire businesses on YouTube or Instagram, only to see their livelihoods devastated by a single algorithm change or account suspension.

At the bottom are the digital peasants — the billions of users whose data is harvested and whose attention is monetized. This includes the growing army of gig workers who, like medieval serfs, depend on platforms for their basic income while having little control over their working conditions. When I interviewed Uber drivers and DoorDash delivery workers for this book, I heard the same story repeatedly: algorithmic management had replaced human bosses, but with even less accountability and transparency.

The impact on democracy is even more concerning. These platforms have become our new public square, but one owned and controlled by private interests. Consider these troubling developments I’ve documented:

• Social media algorithms that optimize for engagement have created echo chambers that polarize political discourse
• Microtargeted political advertising has enabled unprecedented manipulation of voter behavior
• Content moderation decisions by a handful of companies effectively determine the boundaries of acceptable speech
• Platform policies can make or break political movements, as we saw with various election-related decisions in 2020 and 2022

The concentration of information control is particularly dangerous. By 2022, most Americans got their news through platforms controlled by these digital lords. The algorithms deciding what news we see have become de facto editors of the national conversation, but without the ethical obligations or professional standards of traditional journalism.

Perhaps most alarming is what I call “democratic desensitization” — the gradual acceptance of unaccountable private power over public life. We’ve become so dependent on these platforms that we barely question their right to:

• Monitor our personal communications
• Track our physical movements
• Analyze our relationships
• Predict our behavior
• Influence our purchasing decisions
• Shape our information environment
• Moderate our political discourse

This acceptance of private algorithmic governance represents a quiet surrender of democratic principles to corporate power. The digital lords now exercise quasi-governmental powers without democratic accountability. They can deplatform political figures, shutdown communication channels, control access to markets, and influence election outcomes — all without public oversight or due process.

The economic impacts further undermine democratic stability. The winner-take-all dynamics of digital markets have contributed to rising inequality, the hollowing out of local economies, and the concentration of economic opportunity in a few geographic hubs. Small businesses increasingly depend on these platforms for survival, creating a form of digital sharecropping where Amazon, Google, and others extract significant portions of local economic activity.

Building a Democratic Digital Future

In medieval times, resistance to feudal power took many forms — from peasant revolts to the creation of alternative communities like free cities. Today, I see similar patterns emerging in response to techno-feudalism, though our weapons are code and regulation rather than pitchforks and torches.

Let me be clear: resistance isn’t futile, but it must be strategic. Through my research and conversations with digital rights activists, tech whistleblowers, and progressive technologists throughout 2022, I’ve identified several promising avenues for challenging the current system:

Regulatory Resistance

The antitrust efforts gaining momentum in 2022 represent the first serious attempt to check platform power. The EU’s Digital Markets Act and Digital Services Act provide a template for democratic oversight. Here in the U.S., Lina Khan’s leadership of the FTC signals a new willingness to challenge tech consolidation, though the results remain to be seen.

But traditional antitrust approaches alone won’t solve the problem. Breaking up Facebook from Instagram or Google from YouTube wouldn’t address the underlying dynamics of data accumulation and network effects. We need what I call “democratic digital infrastructure” — essential services treated as public utilities with appropriate oversight and accountability.

Technical Resistance

I’m particularly excited about the emergence of decentralized alternatives to platform power. Projects like Mastodon demonstrated that social media could operate without central control. The Fediverse (federated universe) of interconnected services shows how we might build digital public spaces that aren’t owned by corporations.

The rise of privacy-focused tools also offers hope:

• Signal for messaging
• Brave for web browsing
• ProtonMail for email
• DuckDuckGo for search

While these alternatives haven’t achieved mass adoption, they prove that different models are possible. They’re the digital equivalent of medieval free cities — spaces where different rules apply.

Economic Resistance

Platform cooperatives represent another promising direction. Instead of venture-backed platforms extracting value from communities, cooperative models ensure that users own and govern the services they rely on. I’ve watched with interest as driver-owned ride-sharing cooperatives and artist-owned streaming platforms emerged as viable alternatives to corporate platforms.

The key is what I call “exit infrastructure” — tools and services that make it possible for individuals and communities to leave corporate platforms without losing critical social and economic connections. This includes:

• Data portability tools
• Open protocols for social networking
• Community-owned digital infrastructure
• Local digital marketplaces

Cultural Resistance

Perhaps most importantly, we need to change how we think about technology and power. The “move fast and break things” era of tech optimism is over. We need what I call “democratic tech literacy” — a sophisticated understanding of how digital systems affect power relationships and democratic values.

This involves:

• Teaching digital citizenship in schools
• Building public awareness of data rights
• Supporting independent technology journalism
• Creating spaces for democratic deliberation about technology

I’ve been particularly inspired by the tech worker movements that gained momentum through 2022. Engineers and other tech workers increasingly recognize their power to influence how technology is developed and deployed. Their organizing efforts, whistleblowing, and ethical stands represent a crucial form of resistance from within the system.

Community-Based Alternatives

Local communities are also finding ways to resist digital feudalism. I’ve documented numerous examples of:

• Municipal broadband networks
• Community-owned data trusts
• Local digital currencies
• Neighborhood mesh networks
• Digital commons initiatives

These projects demonstrate that communities can build alternative digital infrastructure that serves democratic values rather than corporate interests.

Future Implications

As I look toward 2025 and beyond, the trajectory of techno-feudalism intersects with several critical developments that will shape our collective future. The stakes couldn’t be higher — we’re not just talking about market competition or technological innovation, but the very nature of human agency and democratic governance in the digital age.

Let me share what I believe are the most crucial developments we need to watch:

The AI Inflection Point

By late 2022, we’d already seen glimpses of how artificial intelligence could amplify techno-feudal power. GPT-3’s language capabilities and DALL-E’s image generation are just the beginning. The real concern isn’t the technology itself, but its concentration in the hands of our digital lords. When OpenAI increasingly aligned with Microsoft, and Google maintained its AI research dominance, it became clear that artificial intelligence might become the ultimate feudal weapon — consolidating power through automated decision-making and predictive control.

I predict three immediate consequences:

1. Automated content creation and moderation will give platforms even more control over public discourse
2. AI-driven behavioral prediction will make manipulation more precise and harder to resist
3. The automation of knowledge work will increase dependency on digital feudal systems

The Metaverse Question

Meta’s aggressive push into virtual reality signals something more profound than just a new product category. It represents an attempt to own and control the next generation of digital infrastructure. If successful, it would extend feudal control from our social connections and information access to our very perception of reality.

But here’s what keeps me up at night: imagine a metaverse controlled by today’s digital lords. They would have unprecedented power to:

• Monitor and analyze our virtual behaviors
• Control virtual economies and assets
• Shape social interactions in immersive environments
• Blend advertising and reality in new ways
• Create dependency through virtual property and identity

The Democracy Crisis

With the 2024 election approaching, the relationship between techno-feudalism and democratic stability has never been more critical. Platform algorithms continue to amplify polarization, while concentrated control over information flow makes election manipulation increasingly possible.

The threat isn’t just external interference but the fundamental incompatibility between feudal power structures and democratic governance. When private companies have more power over public discourse than governments, and when algorithmic decisions shape political outcomes, can we really call ourselves a democracy?

Environmental Impact

The environmental costs of maintaining digital feudal estates are staggering. By 2022, data centers were consuming more electricity than many countries. The push toward AI and virtual reality will only increase this burden. We’re creating unsustainable digital castles that contribute to climate crisis — another way in which techno-feudalism threatens our collective future.

Economic Transformation

The next wave of automation and AI deployment threatens to deepen economic inequality. Digital lords are positioned to capture most of the benefits while disrupting traditional employment. Without intervention, we could see:

• Increased concentration of wealth
• Growing dependency on platform work
• Erosion of middle-class jobs
• Further collapse of local economies

The Surveillance Frontier

New technologies like brain-computer interfaces, emotion recognition, and quantum computing could give digital lords unprecedented access to our inner lives. The convergence of biological and digital surveillance represents a qualitative leap in feudal power — from controlling our environment to controlling our very selves.

The Global Power Shift

The competition between U.S. and Chinese tech giants isn’t just corporate rivalry — it’s a battle between different models of digital feudalism. The outcome will shape global power structures and the future of digital governance.

But within these challenges, I see hope. The very visibility of these threats has sparked new awareness and resistance. We’re at a critical juncture where collective action could still reshape our digital future.

Solutions and Action Items: Reclaiming Digital Democracy

I won’t sugarcoat this: dismantling techno-feudalism while preserving the benefits of digital technology is one of the greatest challenges we face. But through my research and conversations with activists, technologists, and policy experts, I’ve identified concrete actions we can take at individual, community, and societal levels.

Individual Actions: Digital Self-Defense

First, let’s talk about what you can do personally to reduce your feudal dependencies:

Data Protection

• Audit your digital footprint across platforms
• Use privacy-focused alternatives (Signal, ProtonMail, Brave)
• Regularly review and restrict app permissions
• Implement strong encryption and password management

Platform Diversification

• Don’t put all your digital life in one corporate ecosystem
• Maintain backup communication channels
• Support independent creators directly
• Use local and cooperative alternatives when possible

Mindful Engagement

• Schedule regular digital detox periods
• Be conscious of algorithmic manipulation
• Verify information through multiple sources
• Support independent journalism

Community Actions: Building Digital Commons

Local communities have surprising power to challenge techno-feudalism:

Economic Initiatives

• Start or join local buying cooperatives
• Support platform cooperatives
• Create community-owned digital marketplaces
• Develop local digital currencies

Infrastructure Projects

• Advocate for municipal broadband
• Build community mesh networks
• Create local data trusts
• Establish digital community centers

Education and Awareness

• Organize digital literacy workshops
• Form technology democracy study groups
• Create youth coding programs
• Host community discussions about tech impact

Policy Actions: Democratic Oversight

I’ve identified several critical policy priorities:

Essential Regulation

• Data portability requirements
• Algorithmic transparency mandates
• Antitrust enforcement
• Privacy protection standards
• Worker protection for platform labor

Democratic Infrastructure

• Public funding for open-source alternatives
• Digital public spaces
• Community broadband initiatives
• Public data trusts

Rights and Protections

• Digital bill of rights
• Right to repair
• Platform neutrality rules
• Universal broadband access

Professional Actions: Change from Within

For those working in technology:

Ethical Standards

• Push for ethical guidelines in AI development
• Support whistleblower protections
• Advocate for user privacy
• Question surveillance features

Workplace Organization

• Join or support tech worker unions
• Advocate for ethical technology policies
• Share knowledge about impact of tools
• Support diversity in tech

Collective Actions: Building Power

The key to challenging techno-feudalism is collective organization:

Digital Rights Movements

• Join digital rights organizations
• Support privacy advocacy groups
• Participate in online freedom campaigns
• Engage in public comment periods

Alternative Building

• Contribute to open-source projects
• Support platform cooperatives
• Join digital commons initiatives
• Participate in community technology projects

Political Engagement

• Vote for tech-aware candidates
• Support digital rights legislation
• Attend local government meetings
• Contact representatives about tech issues

Remember: medieval feudalism didn’t end overnight, and techno-feudalism won’t either. But every action that builds democratic alternatives, every community that reclaims digital sovereignty, and every policy that checks platform power brings us closer to a more democratic digital future.

Conclusion: Democracy’s Digital Moment

As I complete this analysis in late 2022, with storm clouds gathering over American democracy and tech power reaching unprecedented heights, I’m reminded of Arendt’s observation that every crisis is also an opportunity. The crisis of techno-feudalism presents us with a fundamental choice about the kind of digital future we want to build.

The parallels to medieval feudalism aren’t just academic curiosities — they’re warnings. Just as the medieval period represented a regression from the democratic ideals of ancient Greece and Rome, our current trajectory threatens to undo centuries of democratic progress. But history also teaches us that alternatives are possible. Medieval feudalism eventually gave way to the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, and modern democracy. The question is: what will our Renaissance look like?

I believe we’re approaching what I call a “democratic digital moment” — a period where the contradictions of techno-feudalism become impossible to ignore, creating opportunities for transformative change. We can see this in:

• Growing public awareness of platform power
• Increasing tech worker activism
• Emerging democratic alternatives
• Strengthening regulatory momentum
• Rising community resistance

But seizing this moment requires more than just resistance — it demands vision. We need to imagine and build digital systems that embody democratic values:

• Transparency instead of opacity
• Cooperation instead of exploitation
• Community ownership instead of corporate control
• Human agency instead of algorithmic manipulation
• Democratic oversight instead of feudal power

The stakes couldn’t be higher. As we approach 2025, with its looming political challenges and technological disruptions, the battle over digital feudalism may well determine the future of democracy itself. Will we allow ourselves to become digital serfs, bound to corporate platforms we neither control nor truly understand? Or will we reclaim our digital sovereignty and build systems that serve democratic values and human flourishing?

The tools for liberation are already in our hands:

• Open-source software
• Cooperative platforms
• Encrypted communication
• Community networks
• Democratic oversight mechanisms

But tools alone aren’t enough. We need what I call “democratic digital consciousness” — a shared understanding that technology isn’t neutral, that design choices embed power relationships, and that alternative futures are possible.

As I conclude this analysis, I’m reminded of a conversation I had with a young tech worker who left her prestigious job at one of the digital estates to build cooperative alternatives. “The question isn’t whether these systems will change,” she told me, “but whether we’ll change them purposefully and democratically, or wait until crisis forces change upon us.”

She’s right. The future isn’t predetermined. Techno-feudalism isn’t inevitable. But challenging it requires understanding its mechanisms, recognizing its dangers, and most importantly, taking action to build alternatives. The choice is ours. Let’s choose democracy.

Thanks for reading — you are loved.