Yesterday, while walking through the “As We Rise” exhibition at Saatchi Gallery – a powerful showcase of African Diasporic culture and identity – I couldn’t help but think about power, representation, and who really controls the narrative in our society. The news about Elon Musk’s £102 million investment in Trump’s future administration and the latter’s reelection hit differently in that context. As someone deep in the tech industry, I’m starting to realise that I might be part of the very system that’s eating away at our democratic foundations. And the scariest part? Most of my bubble doesn’t seem to give a damn.
The techno-optimist’s paradox
Let’s be honest – those of us working in tech live in an extraordinary bubble of privilege. We build the systems that shape public discourse, influence elections, and increasingly determine economic opportunities. We work and live how we choose, and our salaries put us in the top percentiles. Our skills give us job security even as AI threatens to displace millions. We push for change because it’s to our advantage. This privilege comes with a responsibility that many of us, myself included, haven’t fully embraced. Or worse – some choose to ignore it altogether for the sake of power and short-term gains, screwing over generations ahead of us (sorry children).
Few months ago Marc Andreessen, once a fierce democrat, now effectively Trump’s tech mascot (same applies for Musk and many others), published his “Techno-Optimist Manifesto.” The irony isn’t lost on me – watching tech leaders who previously championed democratic values now embrace authoritarian-leaning ideologies. Give them a finger, and they’ll take the whole hand, as we say in Poland (“daj palec, weźmie całą rękę”).
Like Andreessen, I’m an eternal optimist. But even I think it’s naive to believe that people will always act for the good of society. Some will, sure. But the real question is: do we need to lose our humanity to win this technological race? And what exactly are we racing against and for?
The healthy ground
I believe we need opposing forces pulling in different directions and creating diverse views – bloody yin and yang, soft and hard. Just like in physics, they should balance each other out. People can show their best and worst sides (just watch “Das Experiment” or even better – read its foundations) depending on the situation. You can’t digest only one side of the story – you need to intentionally seek out the reasoning of the opposites.
That’s why I speak with people from all sorts of industries, trying to understand the impact of the technology we create. I’m still uncertain about what Lex Fridman is doing by providing a platform and massive visibility to people from the extremes – even those considered and convicted for crimes against humanity. There’s a fine line between freedom of thought and enabling more deviations and potential supporters of evil. I just don’t know where that line is.
BLACK FRIDAY SALES: THE AMERICAN DEMOCRACY™ — NOW Cheaper Than Ever!
Once again, the U.S. has set the standard for the world. Its democracy is indeed the best money can buy, as Greg Palast wrote in 2002 – in fact, it’s the best that has ever been bought. While other democracies are stuck worrying about pesky revolving doors between government and private sector, America has leaped ahead, tossing out the door altogether and turning its government into a full-blown supermarket for the rich and powerful. Yesterday’s elections were just the latest proof: Elon Musk reportedly invested $130 million to buy himself a potential post in a future Trump administration — the kind of high-stakes shopping spree that’s quickly becoming the American way.
It’s almost poetic. For years, U.S. corporations have been quietly eroding democracy from the inside, investing billions in lobbying, campaign contributions, and media influence to ensure that every policy, every law, every supreme court judge subtly tilts in their favour. Trade agreements now routinely include clauses that allow corporations to sue governments for daring to prioritize public health, environmental sustainability, or local economies over corporate profit. And the numbers tell the story: as Paul Adler writes in The 99% Economy, industries like fossil fuels, pharmaceuticals, and tech pour billions into lobbying to keep laws that could benefit the public off the table. In fact, regulation itself has become a joke when the people meant to police industries or stock markets end up coming straight from corporate offices — and later return there for even better-paid roles. Roll over, Montesquieu! It’s not “revolving doors” anymore; it’s a VIP lounge where the elite sip their champagne and decide who gets the next position of influence.
The public loses, and businesses win — but in America, that’s of course just the way it works. Everything’s a big game with winners and losers. So why not cut to the chase? Let the billionaires bid for office roles openly, or, better yet, do away with any pretense of public representation and create a public auction for government posts — the candidates with the highest donations wins the office. No votes required! If you happen to be a small-town billionaire with a private yacht and personal island, why not add a corner office in the Senate to your trophy collection?
The best part? The people love it. Captivated by the dazzling show of wealth, mesmerized by the promise of “success,” they cheer for the very players who game the system and render them powerless. It’s the perfect capitalist fantasy — a nation where politics is the ultimate luxury market, and power is the ultimate product. The rest of the “developing” democratic world can only stand by in awe…
The seductive pull of technocracy
There’s a seductive argument in tech circles that democracy is simply too slow and inefficient for the modern world. I’ve sat in meetings where it’s been casually suggested that technical experts should have more say than the general public on issues like AI governance or digital privacy. The Silicon Valley ethos of “move fast and break things” makes democracy feel like an impediment to progress.
But I think this viewpoint is fundamentally flawed. History shows us that concentrated power, whether in political leaders’ or technical experts’ hands, inevitably leads to abuse. We, Poles, know a thing or two about it. The current crisis in democracy isn’t a failure of democratic principles – it’s a failure to protect those principles from technological and economic exploitation. The worst bit? People themselves seem not to care. They praise the very tech gurus who screw them over. They believe technology is democratic (as I used to – still naively hope to?), but it seems to be far from the truth.
The real cost of moving fast
But while we’re debating regulations and democracy’s future, there’s an even more immediate crisis brewing. Our “move fast and break things” mentality isn’t just breaking software – it’s breaking the social contract. Every time we “disrupt” (ugh, I hate that word) another industry by automating it, we’re not just making things more efficient – we’re reshaping the very foundation of how society works.
And what’s our industry’s grand solution to all this disruption and displacement? Universal Basic Income. Just throw money at people and boom – problem solved. But what happens to society when work becomes optional for a large chunk of the population? Not just economically, but democratically?
I think democracies work because people have skin in the game. They pay taxes (even when they don’t want to), they (as a result) contribute to their communities, they have a stake in how things are run.
But what happens when we create a massive class of people who are essentially being paid to stay quiet and out of the way? Is that still a democracy, or are we creating some new form of techno-feudalism where the tech elite make all the decisions while everyone else sits at home with their UBI and Netflix, eating what it’s being served (“We think you may like” algorithms)?
I’m sure some people will adapt and thrive in this new world we’re building. But what about those who either can’t or won’t? And what about those who deliberately opt out of the whole reskilling circus?
Breaking out of Doucheville
Here’s what I believe we must do as tech professionals who care about democracy: We need to implement democratic values in our work by pushing for transparent AI systems, designing for inclusion and accessibility, and building privacy protections by default. This means advocating for meaningful tech regulation and contributing to open-source projects that support independent journalism and civic tech initiatives.
We can’t ignore economic inequality either. Testing UBI-like initiatives (even if we’re not sure it’s perfect), pushing for ethical AI development, and sharing technical knowledge widely needs to become part of our DNA.
But maybe most importantly, we need to break out … of our bubble. This means actively engaging with diverse communities, listening to critics of tech (even when it hurts), acknowledging our privileges, and using our influence responsibly.
And these can’t be just some CSR boxes we tick to f*ck off.
The monster we’ve created
But what’s better than democracy? Utopia? The pros and cons of each system have been debated endlessly, but a perfect system can’t exist. What we can do is create incentives for people to identify and stop bad actors.
Every day we make choices that either support or undermine democratic values. When you and I optimise an algorithm, are we considering its effect on public discourse? When we collect data, are we thinking about privacy implications? When we automate a process, are we considering the human impact?
We can bitch and moan about bureaucracy, frameworks, and regulations all we want. Yes, the EU is much more regulated than the US or China. Does it mean we’ll be the losers in it? We try to be the good guys, but in the end, will we get screwed over by those more selfish? And if we join the race in the wild wild west and win, will it not corrupt us beyond recognition?
Sadly, I don’t have the answers. I only hope, more tech bros and gals will choose the harder path, speaking up when it’s uncomfortable or unprofitable, and occasionally putting collective good above personal gain.
Because what’s the point of having fuck-you money if you’ve already fucked over everyone worth saying it to?
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