In these times of great technological advances in the liquid society in which we live, the settlement of techno-feudalism seems inevitable, consolidating itself as a form of invisible domination that transforms freedom into a mirage and redefines our relationships under the logic of control and data mining. This form of power exercised by the data revolution not only reorganizes the digital economy but also profoundly transforms human subjectivity. Under the domination of the large technological monopolies, the individual is no longer an autonomous subject, but an exploited resource, an inexhaustible source of data. Platforms such as Google, Amazon and Facebook not only own digital infrastructures, but control the very conditions of our online existence. The user does not produce or create freely; he participates in a system that subordinates him and defines him as a servant working for his own subjugation. The algorithm, invisible and omnipresent, becomes a silent master, determining what is relevant, what has value and what can be seen.
The logic of techno-feudalism perverts even the concept of community. What was once a space for interaction and collective construction is today an invisible prison where interaction is predetermined by calculations that maximize profitability. This system is not based on physical coercion, but on constant surveillance that reshapes the desires and thoughts of the individual.
The apparent freedom of digital platforms is nothing more than an illusion carefully designed to hide the exploitation inherent in their structure. Byung-Chul Han describes it as a new regime of domination, one in which the user does not rebel because he does not perceive his servitude. Power no longer acts from above, but from within, colonizing the human psyche.
In this context, the recent exodus of users from X (formerly Twitter) to platforms such as Bluesky represents a reaction against authoritarian control disguised as innovation. Elon Musk, with his management model, embodies the contemporary feudal lord, who manipulates the rules of the game at his convenience, imposing a market logic that reduces social interaction to a profit and loss calculation. Bluesky, in contrast, attempts to restore a more authentic space, where interaction is not completely subordinated to corporate profit. However, the question remains: is it really possible to escape from techno-feudalism, or are we simply transiting between different forms of domination?
The migration to Bluesky is not an act of revolution, but of desperation. Users are looking for a promise of greater autonomy, but the problem lies in the system itself. As long as digital structures remain anchored to the extractive logic of data, any platform is bound to replicate, to a greater or lesser extent, the same power dynamics. Resistance to technofeudalism cannot be limited to platform change; it requires a radical rethinking of our relationship with technology, a redefinition of digital space as a place of genuine freedom rather than invisible exploitation. Only then will we be able to imagine a future that is not ruled by the new lords of the algorithm.
