The TikTok Ban and Digital Feudalism: Revealing the Power Dynamics of Social Media
What if social media isn’t just a digital playground but a modern-day feudal society? This week, we'll use the Tiktok ban to explore the concept of Digital Feudalism.
When we compare ourselves to others, we're often reminded that "social media isn’t a real place." In many ways, that’s true. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok operate on manufactured value systems—likes, followers, and engagement scores engineered by people like Mark Zuckerberg. But what happens if we think of social media as a "real place"? — I introduce you to Digital Feudalism, the idea that social media mimics a feudal society, with a handful of powerful benefactors profiting off the labor of millions.
Let’s Digest!
A Snapshot of the Value of Social Media
The debates regarding the positives and negatives of social media can be lengthy. With the Tiktok ban at the forefront of internet frenzy again, I have begun to think about what life A.T.—After TikTok—might look like.
As a woman living in a big city, I’ve personally experienced the daily advantages of social media, even if they don’t always outweigh the negatives. Platforms like Tiktok have kept me in the know, NYC’s punching debacle in the spring was a prime example. Platforms like Tiktok have created a space for people to band together and inform one another, whether it be to keep your head up while walking in Manhattan to avoid a sucker punch or to avoid a certain faux photographer/tattoo artist/predator. While social media is inherently social and the awareness it breeds is social, I will introduce it in a slightly different way, through the lens of the economy. In economics there is a concept of externalities, these are the positive or negative indirect effects of economic activities on third parties. Social media is considered a positive network externality, meaning that the value of a platform increases the more people join and contribute to the platform and users attract new users. This is the economic condition that explains the value added to social media as more people use it, because of this positive network externality we can access and provide information that is helpful to others in the network, like seriously staying away from this guy! The positive aspects are not limited to information, many people have built successful businesses and careers from social media, it has created a new leg of the economy, the “Creator Economy”. But is this leg on stable ground?
The TikTok Ban and Platform Dependency
The ruling on the Tiktok ban is expected to be this week, deciding whether or not the Chinese-owned platform will still be able to operate in the American market. This piece is not an argument for or against banning TikTok, though it’s likely my stance is clear. It is more so a piece that uses the ban as a catalyst to discuss our entanglements with social media from a different perspective. My relationship with social media may not be the best case study for my future arguments, I am primarily a consumer when it comes to the internet, as much as I put out content, I do not generate a substantial income or impact via the internet. But what about those who have built businesses, communities, and careers online? Instagram, TikTok, or any social media platform can suspend you at any time. What happens if there is a total ban, videos are flagged or accounts are pulled? This is the primary question the proposed Tiktok ban illuminates. It is known that Tiktok is the primary platform for many creators, where they get higher views, engagement, and followership, in addition, the Tiktok creator fund allows many to pour into their platform. The ban would of course put these creators in a precarious position, without access to their predictable income via the creator fund or access to their highest-yielding platform. Many people and companies have built “platforms” on this platform, but an unrecognized relationship renders users powerless.
“Don’t Build a House on Rented Land”
My family works in media and between countless meetings and conversations over coffee I am hit with the same phrase “Don’t build a house on rented land”. I took this quote as a guiding principle for long, understanding that if you don't own Instagram or TikTok, you cannot and should not depend on them to build a platform. Creators are urged to establish independent websites, newsletters, or other “owned” platforms. You must also build your own platform and if you're a savant, use Instagram and those foreign platforms to get people to your own platform. I no longer take this quote as word, I now take it as a superficial, underdeveloped thought. Here’s why — no one pays rent to use social media. We don’t pay a monthly subscription to have a TikTok account, we don't pay to have an Instagram. It is a free service, all you need is the ability to create a password and a unique username. (and of course access to technology) Social media is a free “place”, that as users we all “digitally inhabit” — Here’s the fundamental truth: social media isn’t rented land—it’s the commons.
TikTok and Instagram are feudal lands with the owners being the lords and the users being the serfs.
The Commons and Digital Feudalism
Modern society ties technology and social media to capitalism, making it easy to see why capitalism dominates discussions of economic systems. But let’s take a step back and consider feudalism to challenge that thinking.
Feudalism, the precursor to capitalism, was built on the idea that power stemmed from land ownership. While there were distinct classes, the relationship between lords and serfs is key here. It was a system of unbalanced dependency. Lords owned the land or the commons, which were communal, but they were still controlled by those in power. Lords regulated the commons’ use, deciding who could access them, and for what purpose. While serfs, who were bound to the land, provided agricultural labor in exchange for shelter and the right to farm a small portion of the land to feed their families. They weren’t paying rent per se but rather were working the land to sustain both themselves and their lords.
Now, let’s think of this relationship in the context of modern “digital inhabitants” of social media. Much like the serfs who worked land they didn’t own, today’s users contribute to the digital commons of social media platforms without direct payment. Lords, or platform owners, control access to these "commons"—the content, visibility, and interactions—and regulate how and to what extent users can participate, often for their own benefit. The comparison is clear: much like the serf-lord relationship, digital inhabitants are engaged in a system where they produce value, but it’s the platform owners who ultimately control the terms. Digital serfs or creators produce the content that makes these platforms valuable, they provide the network externality with use value. Their content creates attractions and entertainment across the digital feudal land, attracting new users and advertisers. These “digital commons” are attractive because of the inhabitants' labor, whether they see it as labor or just social media.
In exchange for access to the “digital commons”, we grant the “digital Lords” access to our data, content, and attention. This is why social media is free, we make it valuable. It’s interesting that those who preach “ not building a house on rented land” didn't catch onto this earlier because they are also the same group that states “If you’re not paying for something, you’re the product”. Social media users also have access to platforms for free because they are the product, the commons become a singular location where advertisers can reach BILLIONS of people. They can then use our data to circle in on specific demographics to market to. This breeds an interesting dichotomy where users consistently create value and economic opportunities for the Zuckebergs of the world. They create the content that attracts other users, and that increase in user base increases advertising opportunities and revenue. Social media users are bound to platforms where their data, interactions, and content are monetized through advertising, without receiving direct compensation for the use of their personal information or the content they create. The "commons" of social media—where users interact, share, and create—are technically open to all, but access and value are controlled by the platforms (the "lords"). These platforms set the rules of engagement and dictate how users' data is exploited, much like feudal lords regulated the use of the land and its resources. In both cases, the power dynamics are heavily tilted in favor of the landowners or platform owners, who extract value from the labor or data of the "serfs" without offering commensurate returns. The users or serfs are, in essence, the products, with their engagement, data, and content being the means by which the platform profits. A network externality is only valuable if it is used, if users stop uploading content these platforms would be rendered useless.
With this parallel link between social media and feudalism, it is now easier to see why social media is not “rented land” and why the TikTok ban is a dubious barometer of our rights on social media. Millions of people have built their livelihoods within TikTok’s ecosystem, yet they can’t influence its survival or protect their digital “assets,” such as their followers and engagement. TikTok argues that a ban would devastate 7 million businesses and silence 170 million American users. These businesses and creators have no say in the platform’s political or legal battles. This is the same for the countless creators and influencers that make a living through the internet. This could be related to the way political upheaval negatively impacted the powerless serfs, who built lives on the lord's lands.
Political Power in the Digital Age
While the negative impacts of the ban could be an entire spiel itself, I am going to continue to draw on the idea of digital feudalism. While living on the commons was “free” it did not come with freedom. Politically serfs were at the discretion of their lords, while this is not an exact mirror, the nature of political conversations grants a level of power and responsibility to platform owners or “digital Lords”. Social media acts as a boundaryless territory for movements, thoughts, and ideas to spread, thus political conversations find a home here. This grants tech moguls the power to introduce or stifle ideas and conversations within the commons, through things like shadowbanning. Many of my mutuals are on the grounds of many important movements, countless describing their experience being shadow-banned for discussing the Uyghur Genocide in China or the humanitarian crisis conditions in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. These platforms have the ability to monitor content and deem what political conversations can happen to them.
It Gets Musky
Elon Musk’s acquisition of Twitter and his subsequent political provocations perfectly illustrate how owning a platform can become a lever of political power. While Musk's motivations may be up for debate, critics argue that his purchase was driven by a desire to dominate political narratives under the guise of defending the First Amendment—a “Trojan Horse” for broader ideological control.
Before delving deeper, it’s worth noting: I view the First Amendment as a cornerstone of American democracy, and I hope Musk's stated intentions—to champion free speech—outweigh any less altruistic motives. That said, it’s evident that Musk’s strategy intertwines personal beliefs, ideological alliances, and an undeniable interest in consolidating influence. Controlling a platform with 429 million users grants Musk unprecedented power over global discourse. Under the banner of free speech, he has demonstrated how platform ownership can become a tool for amplifying certain viewpoints—especially those that align with his interests—while marginalizing others. This disproportionate sway over public conversations exemplifies how digital moguls can wield platforms as instruments of both political and personal agendas.
Musk’s trajectory highlights the risks of such unchecked power. His sway over the platform’s narratives has propelled him into the political sphere, I'd suggest he grifted so close to the sun he landed a position in Trump’s cabinet. In this sense, Musk isn’t just a platform owner; he’s a modern-day gatekeeper of global discourse, operating at the intersection of politics, ideology, and digital capitalism.
This synthesis of influence challenges the notion of neutrality in tech, raising critical questions about the responsibilities of those who control our digital commons.
The Digital Lords: Power, Data and Politics
Feudal lords maintained their power through alliances with kings, and in turn, social media moguls interact with governments to ensure their platforms are profitable and shielded from regulation — Evident in Musk’s bromance with President-elect Donald Trump. These moguls often lobby for policies that favor their platforms—whether it's in terms of tax laws, data privacy, or content regulation. In doing so, they preserve and expand their dominance over the digital realm.
Every industry fraternizes with politics for financial incentives, but the power of social media and data as well as the nature of “Digital Feudalism” show that social media is sensitive to high-impact ramifications of political ulterior motives. These digital platforms house hundreds of millions of users and their data, to put it in perspective the population of the US is about 320 million, and major social media platforms have more users than most countries have citizens. Today, social media tycoons have a digital surveillance system that tracks users’ actions, preferences, and interactions. Through their platforms, they gather vast amounts of personal data, giving them significant control over user behavior and the ability to influence political opinions or consumer choices.
TikTok, Globalization, and the Digital Commons
An infamous example is Facebook's data collection, which has been a significant issue. Particularly after the Cambridge Analytica scandal, where user data was exploited for political campaigns. These practices reflect a form of digital feudal surveillance, where the platform lords have detailed information about their subjects' lives, preferences, and behaviors, giving them unprecedented power. The 2018 scandal highlighted how personal data can be used and weaponized to manipulate democratic processes. Cambridge Analytica prided itself on ushering in a new age of advertising data usage via what they coined “behavioral microtargeting”. The firm used this to describe its self-proclaimed ability to predict and influence voter behavior during the 2016 election cycle. Exposing the vulnerabilities of modern electoral systems when operating alongside underdeveloped digital ecosystems, characterized by feudal-like social structures where users lack true autonomy. In this environment, users can be exploited for their data and then politically manipulated whilst the benefactors profit financially and wield political influence. This situation identifies the need for modernization in the democracy of data and exemplifies the impacts of centralized control over data,particularly when they are owned by private individuals.


The Cambridge Analytica scandal showed the dire need to safeguard digital political ecosystems by introducing checks and balances (a concept foreign to a feudal system). These checks and balances have led to Facebook facing a record fine of 5 billion dollars from the Federal Trade Commission and Mark Zuckerberg testifying before the United States Congress to address Meta’s pitfalls and commit to reforms. This draws another connection to the muse of this piece, the Tiktok ban featured a very similar testimony. Tiktok’s proposed ban focuses on whether or not Tiktok could provide sensitive user data to the Chinese Communist Party, developing the ability for surveillance and influence over America’s digital serfs. Access to the data of 170 million Americans poses a risk of weaponizing data to manipulate and exploit American users, thus making it an issue of national security.
The case of Facebook focuses on domestic regulation while TikTok is a matter of tension rooted in globalization – broadening tensions over technology and global power. Facebook faced fines while Tiktok faces “deportation”, even without a scandal. The ramifications of digital feudalism become apparent when the “digital Lords” are foreign and pose a potential threat to national security, sovereignty, and cultural autonomy. This tension between global power and data control highlights the need for modernization in digital governance. Platforms wield immense power over political discourse, cultural exchange, and individual livelihoods, yet there are few checks and balances to ensure fairness or accountability.
A Call for a New Digital Framework
The parallels between social media and feudalism reveal a pressing need to rethink our relationship with digital platforms. If these platforms are the modern commons, then the rules governing them must evolve to reflect their central role in society.
Creators and users deserve greater autonomy and protection in this digital ecosystem. Data sovereignty, fair compensation, and transparent governance are crucial to breaking the cycle of exploitation that defines digital feudalism. As the TikTok saga unfolds, it’s not just about one platform or one ban. It’s about the power dynamics that shape our online lives—and whether we, the digital serfs can reclaim control over the commons we’ve built.
The comparison between social media platforms and feudal societies is not merely an exercise in historical metaphor but a lens through which we can critically analyze the current dynamics of power, data, and influence in the digital age. The TikTok ban, the Cambridge Analytica scandal, and the unchecked control of tech moguls like Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg illustrate the vulnerabilities inherent in our reliance on centralized, privately owned digital ecosystems.
Social media has evolved into a vital part of modern life, creating opportunities for connection, creativity, and commerce. However, it has also entrenched power in the hands of a few "digital lords," leaving the vast majority of users—who drive the platforms’ value—as disempowered participants. This imbalance echoes the serfdom of feudal times, where those who worked the land had little control over it or the wealth it generated.
What do you think?
Thanks for consuming!
Phia
“Each Day Gets Better”
Sources
https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cpqd4vw0ejeo
https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2020/12/10150275/shadow-ban-instagram-censorship-women-of-colour
https://www.ushmm.org/genocide-prevention/countries/china/chinese-persecution-of-the-uyghurs
https://www.unhcr.org/us/news/press-releases/unhcr-sounds-alarm-worsening-humanitarian-situation-dr-congo
https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2019/07/the-great-hack-facebook-cambridge-analytica/
Yanis Varoufakis - Technofeudalism: What Killed Capitalism
David Arditi - Digital Feudalism: Creators, Credit, Consumption, and Capitalism