Are Tech Billionaires the New Global Political Actors?

"You have to stay cool. Don't feed the troll" said German Chancellor Olaf Scholz in response to Elon Musk's endorsement of Germany's far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party. In France, President Emmanuel Macron expressed his concern: “who would have imagined that the owner of one of the world's largest social networks would be supporting a new international reactionary movement and intervening directly in elections.” After playing a significant role in Donald Trump's election campaign, Musk now appears to have set his sights on Europe, where leaders voice their concerns and denounce the growing influence and interference of tech moguls.

Their fears are not unfounded: Musk possesses the financial resources to fund costly political campaigns, maintains a close relationship with the US President, holds business interests across the globe, and wields control over one of the world’s most influential social media platforms, X. This combination amplifies his reach and allows him to shape public discourse on an unprecedented scale. But does the rise of such tech billionaires truly signal a danger to democracy?

The relationship between wealth and power is not new. Adam Smith famously described 18th-century England as a society where the  “principal architects of policy were merchants and manufacturers”, he even called them: “the masters of mankind”. This idea, that elites leverage their influence to shape government policies in ways that prioritise their interests over those of the general public, is deeply rooted in Western thought. It is even reflected in the founding of the United States, where concerns about the concentration of wealth and power were evident, even amongst proponents of democracy.

James Madison, one of the Founding Fathers, argued that a republic should be structured to “guard against the instability caused by factions” and ensure that those with property, who have a vested interest in maintaining stability, hold significant influence in governance. This belief underpinned the design of the US Senate, whose members were originally appointed, and not directly elected by the people, thereby insulating it from populist pressures.

In Western democracies, the influence of wealth on policy is institutionalised. In the US, lobbying is regularised and professionalised, enabling corporations to shape legislation and government actions through formal channels. Across the Atlantic, similar dynamics unfold within the bounds of legality. In Spain, vulture funds have gained significant legal control over the housing market. They dictate rental prices, which limits affordable housing options and forces many local residents out of their native communities. In Germany, car manufacturers wield substantial influence over government policies, particularly in weakening environmental standards to protect their industry. The former German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder, who joined Russian energy giant Gazprom after leaving office, exemplifies how private interests often intertwine with political power before everyone’s eyes.

Is it, then, truly effective—or even credible—to criticise Musk for interference? Is it his influence that truly bothers us, or is it the content of his discourse? If the issue is his disproportionate influence, we must acknowledge that the "masters of mankind," as once described by Adam Smith, have simply evolved. Today’s masters are tech magnates, who wield immense power through their control of algorithms that shape what we see, and exert significant influence on global policy. Like their predecessors, they have always been political actors in one form or another. The difference now is that their influence is far more visible—and far harder to ignore.

If it is his discourse on minority rights, conspiracy theories, or even misinformation that bother our political elites, then would censorship really be the smartest course of action? Suppressing his voice is likely to amplify his influence further, not diminish it. Our political elites should resist the trap of focusing solely on his influence. Instead, they must actively confront the narratives and discourses propagated by figures like Musk, without allowing him to set the political agenda. Additionally, they must recognise the agency they hold by taking proactive measures, such as investing in robust public infrastructures, rather than continuing to cede even more political and economic ground to these influential tech magnates.

The solution to this issue is as old as the problem itself. Aristotle, in his political philosophy, proposed a solution that stood in stark contrast to James Madison's approach. While Madison sought to resolve the tension between wealth and power by reducing democracy—favouring mechanisms that limited popular participation to protect property rights—Aristotle advocated for redistribution as a means of achieving balance. Not blaming, not censoring, and not merely denouncing are not credible responses to the challenges posed by influential tech magnates. The solution lies in building systems that empower democratic governance and reduce dependency on private actors, whether in social media, electric vehicles, housing, or other critical sectors. If we do this, then we will be setting the agenda for him, not the other way around. We’ll be talking about solutions to housing, not rehashing what Keir Starmer did 15 years ago. Politics is, at its core, about setting the agenda.

Image: Flickr/NASA HQ Photos (Bill Ingalls)

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