The world we live in today is far from the idyllic image we have of freedom and mobility. Instead, we are entering an era where the lines between feudalism and modern capitalism are becoming increasingly blurred. This new system, aptly named technofeudalism, is quietly shaping our lives in ways we may not even fully understand. While it may seem like we have more control over our lives compared to the serfs of medieval times, the reality is much more complex and, in many ways, more insidious. So, what exactly is technofeudalism, and how are we already entangled in it?
The Roots of Feudalism: A Historical Context
Feudalism, as a system of governance and social organization, reigned over much of medieval Europe. This system was deeply rooted in the control of land and the centralization of power within the aristocracy. At the core of feudalism was a rigid hierarchical structure: a small elite class, known as the feudal lords, held dominion over vast swaths of land, while the majority, the serfs or peasants, were bound to this land in a state of perpetual servitude.
The feudal lords, often noblemen or royalty, inherited or conquered large estates that were central to the economy of the time. These lands were not simply plots of earth; they were the source of wealth, power, and influence. The lords controlled the land, the natural resources it provided, and the labor of the peasants who worked it. In turn, the peasants were obligated to till the land, harvest the crops, and tend to livestock—labor that primarily benefited the lord. The produce from their labor was divided, with the lord taking the lion’s share and the peasants receiving a small portion to sustain themselves.
The economic structure of feudalism revolved around this direct dependency on the land and the lords who owned it. For a peasant, this dependency meant that their lives were heavily shaped by the whims of the feudal lord. They were often unable to leave the land, move freely, or pursue their own livelihood outside the lord’s territory. Essentially, they had no choice but to serve the lord. If a peasant angered their lord or broke the social contract in any way, they faced severe consequences. These could range from punishment and imprisonment to being stripped of their land and forced into even harsher conditions.
Unlike today’s world, where people theoretically have more freedom to choose their occupations and move across borders, medieval society under feudalism offered little in the way of personal autonomy. A person’s future was dictated at birth—whether they were born into a noble family with inherited land or into a peasant family bound to serve. Social mobility was a distant hope, and personal freedom was limited by the stringent class structure of feudal society.
In examining feudalism, it’s clear that the essence of the system was based on power—power that was centralized in the hands of the few, while the majority lived in economic servitude. This historical backdrop sets the stage for understanding the rise of technofeudalism in modern society, where digital platforms have replaced land as the source of power and control.
The Shift from Capitalism to Technofeudalism
Capitalism, with its promises of personal freedom, wealth accumulation, and upward mobility, rose out of the ashes of feudalism. The Industrial Revolution marked the transition from a system based on land ownership to one focused on capital—factories, machinery, and money. Under capitalism, the idea was that individuals could own private property, start businesses, and amass wealth through hard work and innovation. It was a shift from the feudalistic idea of inherited power based on land ownership to a system where wealth could be accumulated and distributed based on the ability to generate profit.
In theory, capitalism was designed to offer more freedom than feudalism. The capitalist ideal was one in which individuals had the ability to choose their occupations, invest in businesses, and shape their futures. People were no longer tied to the land or to the whims of a landowner; they could work for wages, invest in property, and aspire to a better life. In comparison to feudalism, capitalism appeared to offer greater opportunities for social mobility and personal autonomy. The idea that people could achieve success based on merit, rather than birthright, was central to the capitalist system.
However, as capitalism developed, its flaws became more apparent. While it opened the doors to greater individual freedom, it also led to vast economic inequality. The gap between the rich and the poor began to widen, as those with capital—land, money, and resources—continued to accumulate wealth, while the majority of people worked for wages that barely met their needs. The promise of upward mobility was not as easily realized as once hoped, and social mobility became increasingly difficult for the working class.
Moreover, the advent of corporations and the rise of multinational conglomerates shifted power into the hands of a new elite—the corporate oligarchs—who controlled vast networks of labor, resources, and markets. The large-scale corporate structure of capitalism concentrated wealth in the hands of a few, much like feudal lords did in the past. The idea of meritocracy and individual achievement began to feel more like a myth as the very structures that allowed the rich to stay rich became more entrenched and difficult to challenge.
This economic system, while offering greater freedom than feudalism, also created new forms of dependency. Workers, in essence, were no longer beholden to the land but to the corporations and their shareholders, which controlled the terms of employment, wages, and benefits. The capitalist promise of freedom and opportunity began to crumble as more and more individuals found themselves trapped in the cycle of wage labor, with little chance of breaking free.
In recent years, some analysts, including Yanis Varoufakis, have argued that we are witnessing the slow death of capitalism and the rise of a new system: technofeudalism. This system, far from offering the promised freedom of capitalism, is instead reinforcing the economic inequalities of the past, only this time, the control is not over land, but over digital space. The implications of this shift are profound, as it fundamentally changes the way we work, interact, and live in the modern world.
The Platform Economy: A New Form of Serfdom?
As we transition from traditional capitalism to technofeudalism, the concept of the platform economy has emerged as a central feature of this new system. The platform economy is defined by the rise of digital platforms—companies that provide the infrastructure for individuals to conduct business, create content, or offer services. These platforms, such as YouTube, Amazon, and Uber, have become essential to the modern economy. In this new system, individuals are not working for a traditional employer but are instead “renting” digital space on these platforms to generate income.
On the surface, this might seem like a step forward. The idea that anyone can become a creator, entrepreneur, or freelancer and earn money through platforms like YouTube or Amazon seems empowering. After all, these platforms provide access to large audiences, the ability to work on one’s own schedule, and, in many cases, the freedom to pursue creative or entrepreneurial ventures without the need for a traditional job.
However, beneath the surface, this freedom is a mirage. In exchange for the ability to use these platforms, individuals are required to surrender a portion of their earnings to the platform owners. This is what Varoufakis terms “cloud rent.” Creators, sellers, and gig workers are all paying for the privilege of accessing the platform’s digital space, just as feudal peasants paid tribute to their lords in exchange for the use of the land.
Take YouTube, for instance. Creators on the platform earn money through ad revenue, but they must share a significant portion—up to 45%—with YouTube. While creators may have the freedom to produce content on their own terms, they are still ultimately dependent on YouTube’s algorithm, which decides what content is promoted and what gets buried. The platform’s owners control the terms of engagement, setting policies and guidelines that creators must follow, without any democratic input from those who actually create the content.
Similarly, Amazon operates as a vast marketplace for sellers. While individual sellers have the opportunity to reach a massive global audience, they are forced to pay fees to Amazon in order to list their products, use its logistics network, and access its customer base. Sellers are often left with little control over how their products are presented or ranked, and their livelihoods depend on Amazon’s policies and algorithms. In both cases, whether you are a YouTube creator or an Amazon seller, you are not truly an independent worker. You are a renter of space in a digital ecosystem controlled by powerful tech giants.
This new form of dependency is a hallmark of technofeudalism. Just as feudal peasants were bound to the land, modern workers are increasingly bound to digital platforms. These platforms control access to opportunities and revenue streams, much like the feudal lords controlled access to land. Workers may no longer toil on the land, but they are still subject to the whims of a distant, powerful elite. As this system continues to evolve, the digital space that was once an open commons has become enclosed, controlled by a small group of “cloudalists”—the technofeudal lords of our time.
The Dark Side of Cloud Capitalism
While the platform economy may seem like an innovative, forward-thinking model, it is built on a foundation of cloud capitalism—where the most valuable resource is not physical land, but personal data. The tech giants who control digital platforms profit immensely from the information we generate while using their services. This transformation of personal data into a commodity is one of the most profound aspects of technofeudalism, and it has wide-reaching implications for privacy, autonomy, and even democracy itself.
The concept of cloud capitalism relies on the collection and monetization of user data. When we engage with platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Amazon, or Google, we generate vast amounts of personal data—everything from our purchasing habits and search queries to our social interactions and location history. This data, which many of us willingly provide in exchange for free services, is then sold or used by tech companies to target us with highly personalized advertisements. These platforms are not just providers of content or services; they are also powerful data brokers that track our every move, shaping our online experiences based on their understanding of our preferences, interests, and even our vulnerabilities.
The trade-off for using these platforms is a loss of privacy. Devices like Amazon Alexa, which market themselves as personal assistants, are actually tools for surveillance. Alexa collects voice recordings and user interactions, and while it’s marketed as improving user experience, there are numerous reports that reveal how these devices record private conversations without the user’s knowledge or consent. This data is used not just for targeted advertisements but also for developing predictive algorithms that anticipate our needs and desires, deepening our dependence on these platforms.
Moreover, this data is not just used for marketing purposes. It is also utilized to shape the content we consume, from social media posts to news articles. Platforms like Facebook and YouTube use algorithms to recommend content that is tailored to keep users engaged for as long as possible. While this sounds convenient, it also leads to a distortion of reality. Our online lives are increasingly mediated by algorithms that prioritize engagement over truth, often pushing us toward sensationalism, polarization, and even misinformation.
The consequence of this digital surveillance is that our personal lives are no longer private. Our preferences, habits, and interactions are commodified, traded in a marketplace that benefits only the owners of these platforms. In a technofeudal world, we are not merely users—we are the product. The more data we generate, the more profit these companies make, and yet we have little control over how our personal information is used, shared, or even exploited. The deeper we get into this system, the more we find ourselves entangled in a web of digital surveillance, constantly monitored, profiled, and sold to the highest bidder.
The Power of the Algorithm: Control Over Information and Choice
Algorithms are at the core of the technofeudal system. They not only manage how platforms operate but also control what content we see, what services we use, and even what products we buy. The power of algorithms lies in their ability to shape human behavior, influencing not just our decisions, but our worldview. In the past, individuals controlled their exposure to information. Today, algorithms do that for us—often in ways that are invisible and seemingly innocuous.
Platforms like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube use algorithms to determine which content gets seen and which gets buried. These algorithms prioritize content that garners the most engagement, which often means content that provokes an emotional response. Anger, outrage, and fear are the most potent drivers of online engagement, and algorithms are designed to exploit this. As a result, we find ourselves trapped in a cycle of sensationalized content that is tailored to reinforce our biases and stoke our emotions.
The impact of this can be profound. Over time, we are fed more and more content that aligns with our existing views, creating an echo chamber effect. We become increasingly isolated from alternative perspectives, and the information we consume becomes more polarized and distorted. In this environment, individuals are less likely to encounter ideas that challenge their beliefs, leading to a more fragmented and divisive society.
This power over information is not just a matter of content consumption—it also determines what products and services we are exposed to. On platforms like Amazon, Google, and even YouTube, algorithms decide which products are recommended, which books are highlighted, and which content gets promoted. The economic influence of these algorithms is immense. As creators, sellers, or consumers, we are constantly at the mercy of algorithms that dictate visibility and, consequently, success. The small fraction of creators or businesses that manage to beat the algorithm are rewarded with visibility and profit, while the rest are pushed into obscurity.
Perhaps more insidiously, algorithms also determine our behavior in ways we may not even realize. From the news articles we read to the videos we watch, the content we encounter is carefully curated to ensure that we stay engaged and, more importantly, that we keep coming back for more. This hyper-targeted approach to content delivery means that our worldview is shaped by forces outside our control. It’s not just that we’re choosing what to watch or read—it’s that the algorithm is subtly guiding us toward certain types of content and away from others. In essence, we have become passive consumers of information, shaped by unseen forces that prioritize engagement over truth.
The control of information in a technofeudal system is not merely a business strategy—it’s a mechanism of power. Those who control the algorithms also control what we see, what we know, and how we think. This centralized control of information is what makes the technofeudal system so dangerous. If a handful of companies control the algorithms that dictate the flow of information, they have an immense influence over not just our choices but the very way we understand the world. It’s a form of power that goes beyond traditional political control—it’s a form of intellectual and emotional manipulation that shapes the very fabric of society.
Breaking Free from Technofeudalism
In the face of technofeudalism, breaking free seems daunting. The system is pervasive, entrenched, and constantly evolving. Digital platforms, from Amazon to YouTube to Facebook, have become so integrated into our lives that it often feels impossible to function without them. However, while technofeudalism may seem all-encompassing, there are ways to regain some level of autonomy and protect our dignity in this new age.
The first step is recognizing the system for what it is: a form of digital feudalism. By acknowledging that we are essentially renting space in a digital ecosystem controlled by powerful tech giants, we can begin to question the legitimacy of this system and our role within it. Awareness is the first weapon in our arsenal.
One of the most effective ways to break free from technofeudalism is to reduce our reliance on these platforms. While it may not be possible to avoid them entirely, we can choose to minimize our dependence on them. This can be done by opting for alternative platforms that offer more user control, or by simply limiting our participation in the gig economy or platform-based work. For example, creators who rely solely on YouTube for income could diversify their revenue streams by building independent websites, engaging in direct sales, or exploring other creative avenues outside the constraints of the platform.
Another powerful tool for resisting technofeudalism is protecting our privacy. While it may seem like a small gesture, taking steps to limit the amount of personal data we share online can help reduce our exposure to surveillance capitalism. Using privacy-focused tools, such as secure messaging apps, ad-blockers, and browsers that don’t track our data, can help regain some control over our digital lives. These tools may not solve the problem entirely, but they can provide a degree of resistance to the data-hungry algorithms that dominate our online experiences.
Finally, cultivating independence and self-reliance in all aspects of life is another way to break free. This includes adopting habits of minimalism, frugality, and conscious consumption. By reducing our material needs and questioning the necessity of certain digital services, we can minimize our reliance on the very platforms that perpetuate technofeudalism. The less we need these platforms, the less control they have over us. This mindset is about reclaiming autonomy in an age where every convenience comes at a price, and where true freedom may be found in the choices we make to live outside the system.
In short, while technofeudalism is a powerful force, there are ways to resist it. The key lies in awareness, reducing our dependency, and taking steps to protect our privacy and autonomy. It’s not about rejecting technology or the conveniences it offers but about recognizing when those conveniences come at the cost of our freedom and dignity. By reclaiming control over our digital lives, we can carve out spaces where we are not beholden to the algorithms and the cloud lords that rule over us.
Conclusion: Technofeudalism Is Here—But We Don’t Have to Be Trapped
Technofeudalism is a reality that we are already living in, and its influence is only growing. From digital platforms controlling our work and data to algorithms shaping our thoughts and actions, we are becoming more and more dependent on the tech giants that dominate the cloud. However, by recognizing the problem and taking steps to protect our privacy, independence, and dignity, we can avoid becoming true digital serfs. The fight for autonomy in the age of technofeudalism is not just about resisting the power of tech giants; it’s about reclaiming our right to shape our own lives and futures.