In the past, capitalism was often defined by competition: companies fought for market share, innovation drove progress, and consumers benefited from choice. But in the 21st century, a new economic structure appears to be taking shape—one that some critics call “techno-feudalism.” Instead of open competition, this model is dominated by a handful of massive technology companies that control vast platforms, data ecosystems, and digital marketplaces. The question is whether this represents simply an evolution of capitalism—or the birth of a new economic order altogether.

The term “techno-feudalism” draws from medieval Europe, where feudal lords controlled land and resources, and peasants depended on them for survival. In today’s digital economy, the “land” is no longer soil but data and platforms. Big Tech firms—Google, Amazon, Apple, Microsoft, Meta, and a few others—function as the new lords. They own the platforms that serve as gateways to the digital world, extracting rents in the form of fees, advertising revenues, or user data. Just as medieval peasants had little choice but to work the lord’s land, modern users and businesses often have little choice but to operate within the ecosystems of Big Tech.

Take Amazon as an example. While the company presents itself as a marketplace that connects buyers and sellers, its dominance makes it nearly impossible for small retailers to succeed without paying fees to Amazon or adhering to its terms. Similarly, Apple and Google, through their app stores, effectively control access to billions of smartphone users. Developers must pay commissions, follow strict rules, and often compete with the platform owners’ own products. In each case, the power imbalance between platform owners and participants mirrors the asymmetry of feudal relations.

One defining feature of techno-feudalism is data extraction. In traditional capitalism, profits are tied to producing goods or services. In the new order, wealth is increasingly derived from controlling and monetizing user data. Social media companies harvest personal information to fuel targeted advertising, while cloud providers lock businesses into their infrastructure. The users—who generate this value—rarely see direct benefits, echoing the medieval dynamic where peasants worked the land but the surplus enriched the lords.

This shift raises questions about innovation. Classical capitalism rewards disruptive challengers who can outcompete incumbents. Yet Big Tech’s sheer scale, network effects, and financial power make true competition rare. Startups often cannot survive independently; they are either acquired by larger firms or crushed by their dominance. Critics argue this has stifled innovation, concentrating wealth and decision-making power in the hands of a few corporate elites.

The social and political implications are equally profound. Just as medieval lords wielded both economic and political influence, today’s tech giants shape public discourse, control access to information, and exert significant lobbying power. Platforms like Facebook and X (formerly Twitter) are not just private companies but global arenas where political debates and social movements unfold. Their algorithmic decisions influence elections, shape public opinion, and determine what voices are amplified or silenced. This raises concerns about accountability in a system where unelected corporate leaders make decisions with societal-scale consequences.

Defenders of Big Tech argue that these companies provide immense value: affordable or free services, global connectivity, and technological convenience unimaginable in previous eras. They contend that users are not peasants but voluntary participants, free to leave if they choose. Yet in practice, leaving is difficult. Try running a small online business without using Amazon, or navigating modern life without Google services. The reality is that opting out often comes at significant personal or economic cost.

The techno-feudalism framework also challenges how we think about wealth distribution. The profits of Big Tech flow upward into the hands of executives and shareholders, while gig workers, content creators, and small businesses often struggle to earn sustainable incomes despite contributing essential labor. This mirrors feudal structures where the lord’s wealth was sustained by the toil of many who reaped few rewards.

Is there an alternative? Some suggest stronger antitrust enforcement to break up monopolistic power. Others advocate for data ownership rights, where individuals could control or monetize their personal information directly. Decentralized technologies, such as blockchain, are also proposed as ways to escape centralized control by creating peer-to-peer alternatives. However, the effectiveness of these solutions remains uncertain in the face of Big Tech’s entrenched power.

Ultimately, whether we label the current order “techno-feudalism” or see it as a new stage of capitalism, the dynamic is clear: power and wealth are concentrating in unprecedented ways. The challenge for societies is to ensure that the digital economy does not replicate the inequities of the medieval past, where the many labored for the benefit of the few. Instead, the goal should be a system where technology serves as a tool for broad prosperity, not a digital castle guarded by corporate lords.