By BRAULIUS MARQUES RODRIGUES*
The great advantage of technofeudalism in capturing power lies in the very resignification of affection and its equivalence to power.
In the book Everything was forever, until it was no more (2006), anthropologist Alexei Yurchak explores the collapse of the Soviet Union, a seemingly inevitable but also unexpected event. Through a description of the political and cultural climate surrounding the regime, Alexei Yurchak points to a sense of eternity that permeated the Soviet context and created an illusion of permanence, even when the structures that sustained this reality were already being dismantled during Mikhail Gorbachev's administration.
The 1980s, especially in their final years, appeared to be a time of great hope. Suddenly, artistic expressions, such as the performance of the band Kino at the Leningrad Rock Club, demonstrated how criticism of politics had become legal. Everything seemed to be moving towards state capitalism, but the contradictions between the liberalizing desires of Perestroika and Glasnost and oligarchic interests were once again defeated by the latter.
This narrative about the cancellation of the future—the idea that linear, guaranteed progress is just a mirage—resonates in the contemporary context of the West, where liberal democracy, in sharp decline, hides, according to Yanis Varoufakis, under the shadow of a new type of emerging social order: technofeudalism. The comparison between the current moment of dismantling the welfare state and the iconic scene from the film Goodbye, Lenin! (2003), directed by Wolfgang Becker, offers an analogy that I believe is illustrative: collective and individual illusions can mask profound transformations in the structure of society.
In the film, Alex Kerner, the protagonist, devises an ingenious plan to protect his mother, Christiane, from an emotional breakdown by pretending that East Germany (GDR) still exists, even after the fall of the Berlin Wall and German reunification. This cinematic metaphor resonates with the way we live today, amid the crumbling of the modern promises of security, equality and progress of a welfare state (welfare state) reduced to a mere mediator between the interests of the rentier market and the production of wealth.
In the context of the film, the act of deceiving Christiane is not only a matter of filial love, but also an attempt to preserve a world that no longer exists. A media strategy that Alexei Yurchak describes as “hypernormalization.” The GDR, despite being autocratic and bureaucratized, represented for the engaged citizen a set of values — solidarity and social protection — that were part of their personal and political identity.
When Alex recreates this fictional universe inside his mother's apartment, he is, in a way, resisting the inevitability of historical change, trying to artificially extend the life of a system that had already been replaced by a completely different one.
Similarly, the end of the welfare state today can be seen as a silent, and sometimes even invisible, transition, often covered up by narratives that, using the political apparatus, minimize or distort reality. For much of the 20th century, especially after World War II, the welfare state was presented as a lasting social contract: free education, accessible public health, robust social security, and redistributive policies were promises that guaranteed dignity and social mobility for millions of people. However, with the advance of neoliberalism, these guarantees seem to be fading.
Everything that is liquid vaporizes in the air
Like Christiane, who clings to the idea of an idealized GDR while the world around her changes radically, many of us continue to believe in the permanence of these social achievements, even as they are being eroded before our eyes. The phenomenon is fueled by a combination of collective denial, misinformation and appearance-keeping in grassroots organizing.
Governments and economic elites often use discourses that suggest that the welfare state still exists, while implementing budget cuts, privatizations and austerity policies that make it increasingly inaccessible. For example, social programs that were once universal are now presented as “conditional benefits”, available only to those who meet strict criteria. Public education, once seen as a fundamental right, faces successive attacks, with funding cuts and precarious teaching.
Similarly, public health systems are suffering from a lack of investment, leading to a deterioration in the quality of services and increasing inequalities in access. All this occurs in a context where those responsible for change insist that “nothing is really changing” – just as Alex tries to convince his mother that the GDR still exists.
The protests by teachers and indigenous peoples, which recently took place in the state of Pará, with the occupation of the building of the State Secretariat of Education (Seduc) by students and teachers, is an example of how the crossroads of civilization affects, even more sensitively, peripheral regions such as the Amazon.
The mobilization, motivated by the lack of investment in public education, budget cuts and the deterioration of teaching conditions, clearly shows how technofeudalism operates: while political and economic elites accumulate resources and consolidate their control over strategic sectors of the economy, essential services such as education are sacrificed in favor of so-called fiscal responsibility, thus leaving entire populations without prospects for social advancement.
The future belongs to the trillionaires
The contract signed between the government of Pará and Starlink, a subsidiary of Elon Musk's SpaceX, to provide satellite internet access as a solution for remote education in rural and underserved areas is a contemporization of how technofeudalism manifests itself in practice, corroborating the analysis of the end of the welfare state.
This case illustrates not only the replacement of universal public policies by privatized technological solutions, but also the erosion of the traditional pillars of the modern social contract — in-person schools, qualified teachers, and public infrastructure — in favor of a model that prioritizes market logic and technological dependence.
These manifestations also reveal something even more crucial: technofeudalism is not only an economic rearrangement, but also a symbolic reconfiguration of power relations. It reflects a feudal logic, in which small groups hold almost absolute control over resources, technology and information, not to mention the very sense of truth, while the majority is reduced to the condition of digital subjects, dependent on platforms and algorithms that dictate the rhythm of their lives. In this scenario, the future promised by the modernizing narratives of the 20th century seems to have been canceled, giving way to a fragmented and absurdly unequal reality.
The proposal to use Starlink technology to offer remote classes may seem innovative at first glance, especially in a state like Pará, where vast regions face serious challenges with connectivity and access to education. However, by adopting this approach, the government is, in effect, transferring fundamental state responsibilities – ensuring quality education for all – to a global private corporation.
The narrative that technology can solve structural problems of social exclusion masks the lack of investment in basic educational infrastructure, such as building schools, hiring teachers and continuing education.
This strategy reflects what Italian philosopher Franco Berardi calls a “magic bullet”: the idea that technology can remedy social problems without questioning the underlying causes of these inequalities. By promoting remote education as an alternative to in-person schools, the Pará government is not only abandoning its constitutional obligation to provide quality public education; it is also perpetuating a neoliberal vision that reduces public space to a shopping mall, mediated by digital platforms and algorithms, rather than a fundamental human right managed and protected in the public square by citizens.
A disenchanted promise to a pimped-out life
Just as Alexei Yurchak described the Soviet paradox of “everything was forever, until it wasn’t,” today we are witnessing an updated version of that same ambiguity. We live in a world that insists on maintaining appearances of normality, even as the foundations of our collective coexistence are being eroded. Technofeudalism is not just a threat; it is already here, shaping our institutions, our struggles, and our hopes. Political leaders and the new feudal lords of Silicon Valley are coming together in a pact, much like the feudal lords and absolute monarchs of old.
The divine right invoked is that of unlimited wealth for the merchants of technology. As Marilena Chauí rightly put it, screens are instruments of servitude. Through them we serve the ideals of how we should be, live, work, love and die. The other, once deprived of face-to-face interaction, was completely unfeasible.
Social networks have become a virtual auditorium for the mere entertainment of their owners, who see disciples and supporters furiously defending the legitimacy of their numbers. More than that, we live in a time of erosion of humanity and affection. The human being and identity have been stripped of their sensitive content so that your work, and especially your income, determine who you are and what you are good for.
It can be said that technofeudalism's greatest asset in capturing power lies in the very resignification of affection and its equivalence with power. While billionaires are idolized, politicians sell their secretariats to big capital, playboys drive around in Porsches while committing crimes, influencers use platforms to sponsor mass scams, and the family has become nothing more than a contract for financial stability.
In short, as Suely Rolnik says, life is pimped out and the Earth suffers: devastation and pollution destroy our forests and rivers, erasing the horizon. It remains to be seen whether we will have any landscape left and whether we will be able to exist until there is nothing left but money.
* Braulio Marques Rodrigues holds a PhD in Law from the Federal University of Pará (UFPA).
References
BERARDI, Franco. After the future. São Paulo: Ubu, 2019.
ROLNIK, Suely. Spheres of Insurrection: Notes for an Unpimped Life. New York: New York University Press, 1.
VAROUFAKIS, Yanis. Technofeudalism: what killed capitalism. New Jersey: Melville House, 2024.
YURCHAK, Alexei. Everything Was Forever, Until It Was No More: The Last Soviet Generation. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006.
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