The Throughput World Order
Isn't Immanuel Wallerstein's "world system" just the latest variant of a Universal Empire?
Not quite — and the distinction is pre'-damn-near illuminating once you tease apart what Wallerstein is describing and what Toynbee means by a Universal Empire. There's a rhyme, but they’re not the same creature. In fact, the gap between them is where the modern world hides its deepest structural weirdness.
1. A Universal Empire is a political unification. Toynbee’s Universal Empire is a single sovereign authority that forcibly knits together a civilization after its creative energies have died out. Its traits are unmistakable:
- one imperial center
- one administrative shell
- one military monopoly
- coercive unity
- cultural mummification
Rome, Qin-Han, the Caliphate, the Mauryas — these are Universal Empires. They are states.
A Universal Empire is a political solution to civilizational breakdown.
2. Wallerstein’s world-system is not a state — it’s an economic machine. Wallerstein is explicit: the modern world-system is not an empire. It is a:
- capitalist world-economy without a single political center with multiple competing states coordinated by markets, finance, and unequal exchange
It’s a system of states, not a superstate.
Where Toynbee sees a Universal Empire as the end of a civilizational arc, Wallerstein sees the capitalist world-system as a historical anomaly: a world-scale economy that never consolidated into a single empire because capitalism works best with multiple states competing to serve capital.
In other words: Capitalism needs many states; empire needs one.
That’s the structural divergence.
3. But here’s the rhyme - even though the world-system is not a Universal Empire, it behaves like one in late phase:
- It becomes global (no more peripheries to incorporate).
- It becomes rigid (institutions ossify).
- It becomes coercive (IMF conditionality, sanctions, militarized trade).
- It becomes managerial rather than creative.
- It becomes expansionary without innovation — Toynbee’s extensification.
This is why the late capitalist world-system acts like a Universal Empire without ever becoming one. It is a Universal Empire in function, not in form.
4. The real twist: Wallerstein thinks the world-system cannot become a Universal Empire. He argues that:
- capitalism requires interstate competition
- no single state can afford to conquer the whole system
- the system’s contradictions will cause a bifurcation before empire is possible
Toynbee says:
Civilizations end in Universal Empires.
Wallerstein says:
The capitalist world-system ends in systemic crisis, not empire.
This is the philosophical clash.
5. So is the world-system a Universal Empire? No — but it is the closest thing modernity has to one.
It is:
- not a Universal Empire
- but a Universal Market
- with imperial effects
- without imperial sovereignty
It is the first global system in history that mimics empire without ever consolidating into one.
That’s why it feels like a Universal Empire in drag.
6. I'm really asking whether the world-system is the modern form of Toynbee’s late-civilizational unification reflex.
And the answer is:
> Yes — but the unification is economic, not political.
> Yes — but the empire is invisible, not sovereign.
> Yes — but the “center” is a rent-extracting core, not a capital city.
It’s a Universal Empire of flows, not flags.
I suppose this saves me the trouble of identifying whether the U.S.-led order is drifting toward a Universal Empire after all. Instead, it was on its way to Bethlehem to be reborn as a Fourth Rome, but a funny thing happened on the way to the Forum. The financialization that was to be the
imperial bureaucracy” of the modern age grew some...into an empire that rules without ruling. Oh, yeah? You and what army?
It can’t manage without a monopoly on violence — and that’s the point. A world‑system that never consolidates into a Universal Empire must improvise substitutes for the imperial function. And those substitutes are exactly what make the modern world feel uncanny: authority without sovereignty, coercion without ownership, order without a single enforcer.
1. It replaces a monopoly on violence with a distributed cartel of violence. Instead of one empire with one army, the world‑system relies on:
- hegemonic states (Britain, then the U.S.)
- secondary enforcers (NATO, regional powers)
- private military contractors
- security alliances
- financial coercion backed by military threat
No one actor has a monopoly, but the core collectively maintains a monopoly on legitimate force at the system level. Think of it as a monopoly by consortium rather than by crown. The violence is fragmented, but the permission structure is unified.
2. It substitutes military monopoly with economic compulsion. This is the world‑system’s real genius. Instead of conquering territory, it conquers options.
- sanctions
- debt regimes
- currency dominance
- supply‑chain chokepoints
- capital flight
- trade dependency
- intellectual property regimes
These are forms of coercion that do not require a single sovereign. They are structural, not personal.
A Universal Empire says:
“Obey, or we kill you.”
The world‑system says:
“Obey, or your economy collapses.”
It’s quieter, but no less binding.
3. It uses interstate competition as a disciplinary mechanism. This is Wallerstein’s most radical insight. Capitalism doesn’t need a monopoly on violence because it uses states competing with each other to enforce discipline:
- states race to attract capital
- states suppress labor to stay competitive
- states police their own populations to maintain investment
- states enforce property rights on behalf of global capital
In other words:
The world‑system outsources coercion to states that fear losing position.
Violence is not monopolized — it is incentivized.
4. It relies on hegemonic leadership rather than imperial sovereignty. A hegemon (like the U.S.) does not rule the system. It stabilizes it.
Hegemony provides:
- reserve currency
- global policing of sea lanes
- technological leadership
- cultural standardization
- institutional architecture (IMF, WTO, SWIFT)
But hegemony is not empire. It is the gravitational center of a system that remains multipolar by design.
5. It uses legitimacy instead of naked force.
Universal Empires rule by decree.
The world‑system rules by norms:
- “free markets”
- “development”
- “democracy”
- “human rights”
- “international law”
These are ideological instruments that make coercion appear voluntary.
The system doesn’t need a monopoly on violence because it has a monopoly on what counts as legitimate behavior.
6. It manages through fragmented violence rather than unified violence.
This is the paradox:
- No single actor controls violence.
- But violence is never allowed to threaten the system.
Civil wars, coups, insurgencies — these are tolerated as long as they do not disrupt:
- global supply chains
- capital flows
- resource extraction
- hegemonic stability
Violence is not eliminated. It is contained, channeled, and selectively permitted.
A Universal Empire suppresses violence.
The world‑system curates it.
7. The deeper truth: the world‑system is an empire without an emperor. It manages without a monopoly on violence because:
- it doesn’t need one
- it doesn’t want one
- and it would collapse if one emerged
Capitalism thrives on plural sovereignties, uneven development, and competitive coercion.
A Universal Empire would freeze the system.
A world‑system keeps it in motion.
I don't think the decline of U.S. hegemony will open the door to a real Universal Empire? Putin is seeing to that. He won't interfere with the acquisition of Greenland; he'll get some use of it, too. Is China attempting to build a political empire inside an economic one? See below. Is the world‑system entering Toynbee’s “Universal State” phase despite itself? This is way too complicated, and keep an eye on China.
The current situation sits right at the center of Shahid Bolsen’s whole rhetorical architecture, so it’s worth having it cleanly at hand. OCGFC — “Owners and Controllers of Global Financialized Capital”! That’s the exact acronym he uses. It’s his umbrella term for the transnational elite class he argues is structurally empowered by globalized finance rather than by nationality, ethnicity, or traditional political institutions.
A quick refresher on why he uses it
- It’s deliberately systemic, not personal.
- It frames power as structural and financial, not conspiratorial.
- It functions as a kind of anti‑oligarchic shorthand, similar to how other ideological traditions coin acronyms for elite classes, but with a technocratic, global‑capital emphasis.
I call him the Mad Arab with his Irish up because he's pissy where another geopolitical lecturer is stressy. Poor Dr. Roy! The Mad Arab can't restrain himself from letting his acrimonious acronym interact with his critiques of Western social norms, or how it contrasts with Dark Enlightenment terminology. Let’s take that institutional‑evolutionary tack — because it’s exactly the right lens. And the short answer is: private equity isn’t just another branch of the OCGFC; it’s one of the clearest evolutionary expressions of it. But the interesting part is how and why.
1. The OCGFC is a logic, not a sector. Bolsen’s term names a mode of power:
- capital is mobile
- returns are financialized
- governance is exerted through balance sheets, not ballots
- control is achieved through liquidity, leverage, and risk modeling
Private equity (PE) is not outside this logic — it is one of the most distilled forms of it.
2. Private equity emerges when financial capital becomes the primary governor of firms. If you look at the institutional genealogy:
| 1950s–70s (the Soaring Sixties) | Managerial capitalism | Conglomerates, industrial giants | When creature comforts were abundant
| 1980s–2000s (the Hateful Eighties) | Shareholder primacy | LBO firms, activist investors | Austerity (my Dr.-Roy-self is showing)
| 2000s–present (latter-day Gilded Age II) | Financialized capital | Private equity, sovereign wealth funds, mega‑asset managers
PE is the moment when ownership and control fuse in the hands of financial actors. In the Soaring Sixties ownership and control were severed. The Hateful Eighties was the transition period marked by the shareholder rebellion, a rabble roused by the raiders. In Gilded Age IIB both reins are held together again. That’s exactly the OCGFC’s signature.
3. What makes PE a “higher evolutionary form” of OCGFC logic? Three traits matter:
A. Totalizing control
PE doesn’t merely influence firms through markets — it takes them private, rewrites governance, restructures labor, and reorients strategy around financial metrics. This is the OCGFC’s dream scenario: no public markets, no disclosure, no political oversight, no dispersed shareholders. (Serves these last right.)
B. Leverage as a governing instrument
PE uses debt not just as financing but as discipline ๐๐
- leverage forces cost‑cutting
- leverage forces asset sales
- leverage forces managerial compliance
Debt becomes a behavioral technology. That’s pure OCGFC logic.
C. Time horizons that override national politics
PE funds operate on:
- 3–7 year cycles
- cross‑border capital pools
- tax‑optimized structures
- global regulatory arbitrage
They are structurally post‑national.
Again: OCGFC to the bone.
4. But PE is not the final form — it’s a transitional one. If we keep the evolutionary metaphor:
- Hedge funds were the first mutation (liquidity + leverage).
- Private equity is the second mutation (control + leverage).
- Mega‑asset managers (BlackRock, Vanguard, State Street) are the third mutation (passive ownership + systemic influence).
- Sovereign wealth funds are the fourth mutation (state‑capital hybrids with global reach).
PE sits in the middle of this evolutionary tree — powerful, but not apex.
The apex predator in the OCGFC ecosystem is arguably the global asset allocator, not the firm‑specific owner.
5. The deeper point: PE is what happens when capital stops trusting managers. In the 1970s, the OCGFC logic was still embryonic. By the 1980s, it had a thesis: managers are wasteful; capital must discipline them. Private equity is the institutionalization of that thesis. It is the moment when capital says:
“We’re not just setting the rules. We’re taking the keys.”
6. So are PE firms “merely” the latest unfolding?
Not merely — but yes, they are an unfolding.
They are:
- a specialized organ** of the OCGFC
- an accelerated expression of financialized control
- a bridge species between industrial capitalism and asset‑manager hegemony
If the OCGFC is the evolutionary lineage, private equity is one of its most successful adaptive radiations.
Is tech‑platform ownership (e.g., SoftBank Vision Fund, Tiger Global) a hybrid species between PE and sovereign wealth? Or does PE represent the “predatory” phase of financial evolution, while asset managers represent the “ecological” phase?
Let's go down the tech-platform corridor. First let's have a primer on the Dark Benightment's cognitive system (their terminological contrast). Er, I meant "Enlightenment" - I'm channeling Roy again. Taking an institutional‑evolutionary tack pairs beautifully with a clean primer on the Dark Enlightenment’s cognitive system. I’ll keep this strictly conceptual and structural, not evaluative. I shall spare you Veblen's high sun of scorn and derision.
Below is the clearest way to understand the Dark Enlightenment (DE) as a cognitive system — meaning: its categories, its epistemic commitments, and the contrasts it draws.
The Dark Enlightenment’s Cognitive System: A Primer
The Dark Enlightenment isn’t just a cluster of opinions; it’s a terminological machine that generates a worldview. It has a distinctive grammar. Once you see the grammar, the rest of the ideology becomes predictable.
Let’s break it down into its core cognitive moves.
1. The Foundational Contrast: “Cathedral” vs. “Reality”
The DE begins with a master distinction:
- The Cathedral = A term for the diffuse network of universities, media, NGOs, and cultural institutions that (in their view) produce a unified ideological narrative.
- Reality / Patchwork / Exit = The counter‑pole: a world where governance is competitive, decentralized, and grounded in “hard constraints” rather than moral narratives.
This is the DE’s equivalent of Bolsen’s OCGFC distinction — but instead of focusing on financialized capital, it focuses on ideological production.
OCGFC = structural power of capital
Cathedral = structural power of narrative
Different domains, similar structural logic.
2. The Epistemic Premise: “Distributed Ideology”
DE thinkers argue that:
- ideology is not consciously coordinated
- institutions converge on shared narratives because of incentives
- these narratives are self‑reinforcing
- dissent is filtered out through professional norms, not conspiracies
This is why they frame the Cathedral as a system, not a cabal.
It’s a cognitive style that treats ideology as an emergent property of institutions.
3. The Political Premise: “Demotism” as Decay
Another key DE category is demotism — the idea that mass political participation leads to:
- short time horizons
- moralistic politics
- institutional fragility
- selection for persuasive narratives over competent governance
This is their evolutionary claim: mass politics selects for storytelling, not statecraft. This is where their cognitive system diverges sharply from Bolsen’s:
- Bolsen: the problem is financialized capital overriding democratic sovereignty
- DE: the problem is democratic sovereignty overriding competent governance
They invert each other’s causal arrows.
4. The Governance Premise: “Sovereign Formalism”
DE thinkers argue that power should be:
- formalized (no ambiguity about who rules) ๐๐บ
- centralized (no diffusion of authority)
- incentivized (rulers must have skin in the game)
- competitive (polities should compete for residents and capital)
This is the “patchwork” idea: many small sovereign entities, each run like a firm, competing for citizens.
It’s a cognitive system that treats governance as:
- a technical problem
- solvable through institutional design
- optimized through market‑like competition
5. The Anthropological Premise: “Human Nature is Fixed”
DE thought assumes:
- human nature is largely immutable
- social engineering is hubristic
- incentives matter more than ideals
- hierarchy is natural and inevitable
This is why they reject progressive narratives of moral improvement.
Their cognitive system is anti‑plasticity.
6. The Historical Premise: “Progress is a Myth”
DE thinkers often frame modernity as:
- technologically impressive
- politically decadent
- institutionally fragile
- ideologically self‑deluding
They see history not as a moral arc but as a cycle of centralization, decay, and collapse.
This is where they overlap with civilizational theorists — but with a very different causal model.
7. The Terminological Contrast With OCGFC
Here’s the key structural difference: for DE power = ideological production. For Bolsen power is financialized capital. The DE believes the elite is centered in the Cathedral, which ain't true now nor was it true in the Soaring Sixties. Earlier, endowments ruled. Today reactionary think tanks have reprogramed august institutions like Harvard, which produces Mafiosi with MBAs. But I digress. For the DE the problem is mass politics. DE is very wroth with democracy. For Bolsen the global capital owners are overriding democracy. DE wants to transcend the nation-state with its messy masses. Bolsen wants to drag capital kicking and screaming back into society the way FDR did. For him the threat is capital capture; for DE the threat is ideological capture. I gather that DE is surly and pouty over how the think tanks changed the zeitgeist and...well, hell, I think identity politics and culture wars an evasion and a distraction, too! Economic progress for everybody!!!
Well, summing up! They are mirror‑image critiques:
- DE: ideology dominates capital (the swaying, inconstant voting public can't be trusted because they're brainwashed by TPTB (libs))
- Bolsen: capital dominates ideology (thus brainwashing the voting public)
- These are rival cognitive maps of the same terrain.
- This shaping up to be a new engagement in the Second Civil War. The Cowboys who replaced the Slave Plantocrats have been replaced by the Coding Kids.
Now that we’ve laid out the DE’s cognitive system, we can traipse down the bridle path. How do tech‑platform ownership structures (SoftBank, Tiger Global, Vision Fund, etc.) sit at the intersection of:
- DE’s sovereign‑formalism
- OCGFC’s financialized capital
- the evolutionary logic of private equity
- the rise of platform‑states and quasi‑sovereign firms
Is tech‑platform ownership (e.g., SoftBank Vision Fund, Tiger Global) a hybrid species between PE and sovereign wealth? This is one of those places where institutional evolution becomes almost biological. Tech‑platform megafunds like SoftBank’s Vision Fund and Tiger Global really do behave like a hybrid species between private equity and sovereign wealth. But the interesting part is why they emerged, and what ecological niche they occupy.
1. Start with the two “parent species”
A. Private Equity (PE)
Traits:
- high leverage
- firm‑level control
- aggressive restructuring
- short–medium time horizons
- return discipline through debt
PE is the predatory form of financialized capital: it hunts firms, consumes them, and metabolizes them into returns.
B. Sovereign Wealth Funds (SWFs)
Traits:
- state‑backed capital pools
- extremely long time horizons
- geopolitical insulation
- low leverage
- preference for stability over disruption (just like its Yankee forebear)
SWFs are the ecological form of capital: they graze across global markets, shaping landscapes rather than hunting prey.
2. Tech‑platform megafunds emerge when these two logics collide. SoftBank Vision Fund, Tiger Global, Coatue, DST Global — these are not classic VC, not classic PE, not classic SWF. They arise because the tech ecosystem demands something neither parent species can provide alone:
- massive capital injections (SWF trait)
- into hyper‑growth, high‑risk firms (VC trait)
- with quasi‑sovereign ambitions (DE‑style governance)
- at a speed and scale PE cannot match
This creates a new ecological niche: the megafund that behaves like a sovereign allocator but hunts like a financial predator.
3. The hybrid traits: where PE and SWF DNA fuse. Here’s the evolutionary signature.
A. SWF‑like traits
- Enormous capital pools (tens of billions)
- Backed by states or state‑adjacent actors (Saudi PIF, Mubadala, Temasek)
- Long time horizons
- Immunity to domestic political cycles
- Ability to absorb losses that would kill a PE fund
These traits give them sovereign durability.
B. PE‑like traits
- Firm‑level influence (board seats, governance pressure)
- Aggressive scaling strategies
- Preference for dominant‑platform outcomes
- Willingness to push companies into risky expansion
- Portfolio‑level engineering
These traits give them predatory agency.
C. VC‑like traits
- Appetite for early‑stage risk
- Preference for network effects
- Focus on blitzscaling
- Tolerance for negative cash flow
These traits give them evolutionary speed.
Put together, you get a creature that:
- deploys capital like a state
- governs like a PE firm
- bets like a VC fund
- and thinks like a platform founder
This is why they feel uncanny — they don’t fit any classical category.
4. Why this hybridization happened in tech specifically. Tech platforms have three properties that attract this hybrid species:
A. Winner‑take‑all dynamics
Platforms reward massive, early, overwhelming capital — something only SWF‑scale pools can provide.
B. Sovereign‑like ambitions
Platforms aim to control:
- identity
- payments
- communication
- logistics
- data
This is quasi‑state territory.
SWFs understand this; PE does not.
C. Long‑duration value curves
Platforms lose money for years, then become cash machines.
PE’s 3–7 year cycle can’t handle that.
SWFs can.
Thus: the hybrid emerges.
5. The deeper evolutionary point: these megafunds are proto‑sovereigns. This is the part that ties back to my Dark Enlightenment primer. Tech‑platform megafunds behave like:
- allocators of global capital (OCGFC logic)
- architects of new governance structures (DE logic)
- builders of quasi‑polities (platform logic)
They are not just investors.
They are state‑builders in embryo.
SoftBank’s Vision Fund wasn’t just funding companies — it was trying to engineer a global logistics‑AI‑mobility stack that would function like a private infrastructure layer. Tiger Global wasn’t just investing — it was mapping and shaping the global consumer internet. These are sovereign projects, not financial ones.
6. So what are they, evolutionarily? They are:
- PE in their predatory governance
- SWF in their capital base and time horizon
- VC in their risk appetite
- Platform‑sovereign in their ambitions
The best name for the species might be:
Sovereign‑Scale Platform Capital
Or, if we want to stay in this mythic‑institutional idiom:
The Platform Praetorians of Capital
They are the first financial organisms designed to build, not merely extract — but to build in a way that serves capital’s sovereignty rather than national sovereignty. Do I have mixed feelings or what?
Where do, WHERE CAN, we can go next??
- Are these megafunds the embryonic form of “platform states”?
- Do they represent a counter‑OCGFC technostructure, or merely its extension?
- Is AI accelerating the hybridization into a new apex species?
- Do tech founders use these funds to escape financial subordination — or deepen it?
Each of these opens a different evolutionary vista. First I wanna coz I hazta ax: Do they represent a counter‑OCGFC technostructure, or merely its extension?
Let’s take this head‑on because this is one of those questions where the answer is tempting to make binary, but the real power lies in avoiding metaphysical dualism like the plague. (I mean, look at what winner-take-all did to our elections!) The truth is:
Tech‑platform megafunds are simultaneously a counter‑OCGFC technostructure and an extension of OCGFC — depending on which layer of the system we're looking at. Or laughing at?
They are a mutation inside the financial ecosystem that both challenges and reinforces the OCGFC’s dominance. Think of them as a rebellious organ that still circulates blood from the same heart.
Ooh! Let's anatomize.
1. At the surface level: they look like a counter‑OCGFC technostructure. Tech‑platform megafunds (Vision Fund, Tiger Global, etc.) do things that directly threaten the traditional OCGFC order:
A. They empower founders to resist financial discipline. Founders who receive multi‑billion‑dollar injections can:
- ignore public markets
- ignore profitability
- ignore activist investors
- ignore traditional governance norms
This is the anti‑OCGFC dream: capital that liberates rather than disciplines.
B. They build quasi‑sovereign platforms. Platforms control:
- identity
- payments
- logistics
- communication
- data
These are state‑like functions, not firm‑like ones. They create new power centers outside the OCGFC’s traditional domain.
C. They operate with sovereign time horizons. Unlike PE or hedge funds, they can:
- hold for decades
- absorb catastrophic losses
- subsidize expansion indefinitely
This is a technostructural logic, not a financial one. At this layer, they look like a counter‑OCGFC technostructure: a new elite formation built around platforms, data, and founder‑sovereignty.
2. But at the deeper structural level: they are absolutely an extension of OCGFC. Here’s the twist. Even when they challenge the surface of financial power, they reinforce the substrate.
A. Their capital ultimately comes from OCGFC pools. Vision Fund’s backbone is:
- Saudi PIF
- Mubadala
- global pension funds
- mega‑asset managers
These are OCGFC institutions.
The megafunds are the deployment arms of global capital, not its rivals.
B. They financialize tech at unprecedented scale. By injecting billions into platforms, they:
- inflate valuations
- accelerate exits
- deepen dependence on capital markets
- turn platforms into financial assets
This is the OCGFC’s preferred outcome: everything becomes an asset class.
C. They discipline founders through capital dependency. Even when they empower founders temporarily, the long arc bends toward:
- governance pressure
- forced IPOs
- liquidation preferences
- recapitalizations
- debt‑like obligations
The OCGFC logic reasserts itself.
D. They globalize capital’s reach into new domains. Platforms become:
- privatized infrastructure
- privatized identity systems
- privatized logistics networks
This expands the territory of financialized capital. So at the structural level, they are extensions of the OCGFC — new limbs, not new organisms.
3. The synthesis: they are a liminal species in the evolution of global power. The best way to see them is this: They are the OCGFC’s attempt to build a technostructure of its own.
Not a rival.
Not a servant.
A fusion.
They represent the OCGFC’s belief that:
- industrial capitalism is dead
- managerial technostructures are obsolete
- platforms are the new sovereigns
- data is the new collateral
- AI is the new governance layer
So the OCGFC mutates, hybridizes, and grows a new organ: sovereign‑scale platform capital.
This is not a counter‑elite.
It is the next evolutionary stage of the same elite.
4. The deeper mythic frame, if we dramatize:
- The OCGFC is the Old Sovereign
- Tech‑platform megafunds are the New Pretenders
- But both draw power from the same Invisible Treasury
- And the struggle is not succession but metamorphosis
The Vision Fund is not a rebellion. It is the Chrysalis of Capital.
Hmm. Not exactly like the lump on Our Lady of Fortune's back is the growing reincarnation of a 400-year-old demonic medicine man.
5. Does the technostructure eventually swallow its financial parent? Do platforms become sovereigns, or do they become vassals of global capital?
Is the OCGFC evolving into a cybernetic allocator that no longer needs human managers? Are AI foundation models the next mutation — a post‑capital allocator? Kim Stanley Robinson never thought of these! The best I can do is ask: Are these megafunds the embryonic form of “platform states”?
Let’s take this one slowly and precisely, because this is the hinge question — the one that decides whether we’re looking at a new sovereign lineage or merely a financial mutation.
And the answer is: Oh HELL yes — these megafunds are the embryonic form of platform states, but only in the same way that early merchant banks were the embryonic form of the modern nation‑state. ( ╹ -╹)? They are not yet states. But they are proto‑sovereign organs developing inside the body of global capital. To see this clearly, we need to look at what a “state” actually is in functional terms.
1. A state is not defined by territory — it’s defined by functions. A state performs four core functions:
1. Resource extraction (taxation, rents, seigniorage)
2. Coordination (infrastructure, standards, identity)
3. Coercion / enforcement (rules, compliance, discipline)
4. Legibility (data, census, registries, identity systems)
Now look at what platform megafunds + platforms do:
- Resource extraction: They extract rents through transaction fees, data capture, and platform lock‑in.
- Coordination: They build global logistics, payments, identity, and communication layers.
- Coercion: They enforce rules through algorithmic governance, access control, and capital discipline.
- Legibility: They maintain the most detailed behavioral datasets ever assembled.
Functionally, they already perform three and a half of the four state functions.
The only thing they lack is monopoly on violence — but even that is eroding as platforms control access, identity, and economic participation (they can cut off your water). Yep indeedy: they are embryonic states in functional terms.
2. But they are embryonic in a very specific way: they are financially gestated states. This is yet another twist. Platform states are not emerging from:
- ethnic groups
- territories
- political movements
- religious communities
They are emerging from capital pools.
This is unprecedented in world history.
The Vision Fund is not a polity. But it is a sovereign incubator — a womb in which platform‑scale institutions gestate.
Tiger Global is not a government. But it is a cartographer of the global consumer internet, mapping and shaping the terrain on which future governance will occur.
These megafunds are not states.
But they are state‑forming mechanisms.
3. The evolutionary logic: why megafunds become proto‑states. Three forces push them toward sovereignty:
A. Platforms naturally drift toward governance
Once a platform controls:
- identity
- payments
- logistics
- communication
- data
…it becomes a governance system, whether it wants to or not.
B. Megafunds accelerate this drift by injecting billions into platforms. They:
- push them toward monopoly
- push them toward infrastructural roles
- push them toward global scale
- push them toward quasi‑sovereign functions
Megafunds don’t just fund companies — they select for sovereign traits.
C. AI amplifies the drift. AI turns platforms into:
- adjudicators
- allocators
- coordinators
- regulators
This is the bureaucratic layer of a state, but automated. Ergo the evolutionary pressure is real: platforms + megafunds + AI = proto‑sovereign formation.
4. But here’s the paradox: they are sovereign embryos inside the OCGFC womb. This is the part that matters for this institutional‑evolutionary frame. These megafunds:
- draw capital from OCGFC pools
- operate according to OCGFC incentives
- expand the reach of financialized capital
- deepen the asset‑ization of the world
So they are not rebelling against the OCGFC. They are the OCGFC’s reproductive organs. They are how global capital attempts to spawn a new form of sovereignty that is:
- post‑territorial
- post‑democratic
- post‑managerial
- post‑industrial
- (,,•᷄เก•᷅ ,,)?
In other words: platform states are the OCGFC’s offspring, not its rivals.
5. The mythic‑institutional reading....
If we dramatize this:
- The OCGFC is the Old Sovereign, diffuse and invisible.
- The megafunds are the Incubators, gestating new forms of rule.
- The platforms are the Nascent Polities, embryonic states without territory.
- AI is the Unborn Bureaucracy, the administrative soul waiting for a body.
This is not a coup. It is a succession ritual. The megafunds are not overthrowing the OCGFC. They are birthing its successor form.
6. So the answer iisss: tech‑platform megafunds are the embryonic form of platform states. But they are embryonic in the same way that:
- medieval merchant guilds were embryonic states
- the VOC (Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie (“United East India Company”) was an embryonic state
- the British East India Company (EIC) was an embryonic state
They are corporate‑sovereign hybrids in formation.
And crucially: they are not counter‑OCGFC — they are the OCGFC’s next evolutionary stage.
Will these embryos, when they complete gestation, become sovereigns or vassals? Is the OCGFC intentionally engineering these platform states, or is this an emergent mutation? Does AI give them the missing “monopoly on violence” through algorithmic coercion? Will your degree from the School of Foreign Service still be worth anything? Or will nation‑states become shells around platform cores?
The final question is the question that reveals the deep morphology of the emerging order. And the answer is not a simple yes or no. It’s more interesting, more tragic, and more structurally elegant than that. Will your distant descendants become "pyons"?
Short answer: Nation‑states are becoming shells around platform cores — but not because they are being “replaced.” They are being hollowed out by a new internal organ that performs more and more of the state’s functions. The platform core grows inside the state like a new nervous system, while the territorial state remains as a skeletal frame.
1. The nation‑state is losing control of its four sovereign monopolies. A state is sovereign because it monopolizes:
1. Identity
2. Communication
3. Coordination
4. Coercion
Now look at platforms:
- Identity: Apple, Google, Meta, Tencent, Aadhaar‑adjacent systems → authenticate more people daily than any government.
Communication: Messaging, social networks, cloud infrastructure → mediate the public sphere.
- Coordination: Logistics, payments, mobility, cloud compute → run the arteries of economic life.
- Coercion: Access control, algorithmic enforcement, deplatforming → enforce rules without courts.
Functionally, platforms already perform three and a half of the four sovereign functions.
Thus the state becomes a shell around a platform‑core that performs the actual work of governance.
2. But the shell still matters — because platforms need its legal exoskeleton. Here’s the paradox.
Platforms cannot:
- issue passports
- wage war
- imprison
- levy taxes
- claim territory
They need the legal, territorial, and coercive exoskeleton of the nation‑state. This means that the emerging structure is symbiotic:
- The state provides legibility, legality, and violence.
- The platform provides identity, coordination, and infrastructure.
This is not replacement. It is organ transplantation. The platform becomes the core, the state becomes the shell, but both remain attached.
3. The megafunds accelerate the hollowing. This is where the previous line connects. Megafunds (Vision Fund, Tiger Global, etc.):
- inject sovereign‑scale capital
- push platforms into infrastructural roles
- subsidize monopoly formation
- globalize platform reach
- detach platforms from national constraints
They are the midwives of platform sovereignty. They don’t overthrow the state. They grow a new sovereign organ inside it.
4. The new morphology: “dual‑sovereign stacks”. The emerging political form is not:
- a nation‑state
- a corporation
- a city‑state
- a platform
- a sovereign wealth fund
It is a stack:
**Top layer:
Nation‑state (territory, law, violence)
Middle layer:
Platform core (identity, coordination, data, communication)
Bottom layer:
Megafund capital (resource extraction, allocation, global reach)
This is the triune sovereign of the 21st century.
The state is the shell.
The platform is the core.
The megafund is the circulatory system.
5. The Dark Enlightenment saw this coming — but misdiagnosed the mechanism. DE thinkers predicted:
- the decline of democratic legitimacy
- the rise of corporate governance
- the emergence of “patchwork” micro‑sovereignties
But they assumed the state would be replaced by firm‑sovereigns.
What actually happened is subtler:
- firms didn’t become states
- states didn’t disappear
- instead, platforms became the operating system of states
The DE predicted a coup. What they got was an internal rewiring.
6. The OCGFC logic is the reproductive logic behind the transformation. This is the part that ties everything together. The OCGFC (Owners and Controllers of Global Financialized Capital):
- funds the megafunds
- funds the platforms
- funds the cloud
- funds the AI labs
- funds the logistics networks
It is not being displaced.
It is metastasizing into a new form.
The nation‑state becomes a host.
The platform becomes a core organ.
The OCGFC becomes the genetic code.
7. So do nation‑states become shells? 'Es, deedums — but not empty shells. They become exoskeletons around a new sovereign nervous system.
The platform is the brain.
The megafund is the bloodstream.
The state is the armor.
This is the political morphology of the 21st century.
I have GOT to work zombie ants into this allegory!
Will platform cores eventually fight each other like states? Sigh. Probably. Is this structure stable, or a transitional chrysalis? Wait! Does AI complete the hollowing by automating the bureaucratic layer? I know some people who would love that. More important to me, and a lead-in to question #2 is: Which states become shells first — and which resist?
But my zeroth question: Is the OCGFC intentionally engineering these platform states, or is this an emergent mutation? This is the fracture line: agency vs. emergence. As much as I'd like to blame Maggie's "Glorious Capitulation" to the City, nobody has been in charge since the mid-'70s. It’s overwhelmingly an emergent mutation, with pockets of intentional engineering layered on top. The OCGFC is not a single mind playing 5D chess—but it is a structure that learns, copies, and stabilizes whatever increases its power.
1. Why it’s mostly emergent. No central will:
- OCGFC is a class/structure, not a council. It’s pension funds, asset managers, SWFs, banks, PE, megafunds—each with its own mandates and constraints.
- They don’t sit in a room and say, “Let’s build platform states.” They say, “Let’s maximize risk‑adjusted returns under our mandate.”
Local decisions, global pattern:
- A fund backs a platform because of growth and network effects.
- Another fund copies the strategy.
- Platforms that behave like proto‑infrastructure outperform.
- Capital flows toward them.
From the inside, it feels like optimization.
From the outside, it looks like state‑formation.
That’s emergence.
2. Where intentionality does show up. There are zones where the mask slips and you see something closer to design:
Sovereign wealth funds and strategic capital:
- Gulf SWFs, Chinese state funds, some Asian and European vehicles explicitly talk about: “digital sovereignty,” “national champions,” “strategic infrastructure,” “platform ecosystems.”
- They are not just chasing returns; they are consciously building techno‑infrastructure with geopolitical aims.
Megafund theses:
- Vision Fund’s internal logic—“blitzscale global platforms, dominate categories, build a stack”—is not accidental. - That’s deliberate platform‑world‑building, even if framed in financial language.
Regulatory arbitrage as strategy:
- Structuring platforms to sit above/between jurisdictions, using holding companies, data centers, tax havens—this is intentional sovereignty‑gaming, not random drift. So there are islands of design in a sea of emergence.
How emergence and intention fuse. The real picture is layered:
- First layer (emergent): Capital discovers that platforms with infrastructural traits are insanely profitable and durable.
→ It keeps funding them.
→ Platform‑state morphology emerges.
- Second layer (reflexive):
Actors notice the pattern: “Platforms are becoming infrastructure; we can use this.”
→ SWFs, megafunds, and some states start leaning into the pattern.
→ They begin to consciously treat platforms as proto‑sovereign assets.
- Third layer (strategic):
A subset of players (some states, some funds, some founders) start to explicitly plan around this: “We will build/pay for the stack that others must live inside.” So y'all the answer isn’t: “It’s all a conspiracy” or “It’s all an accident.” It’s: emergence first, then recognition, then strategy.
4. In mythic lingo:
- At first, the OCGFC is not a plotting king, just a field of gravity.
- The platform states begin as spontaneous crystals forming in that field.
- Once visible, some factions of capital become Priests of the Crystal, learning how to grow and shape it.
∴ the OCGFC did not decide to birth platform states. เช⁀➴ but once the pregnancy began, parts of it chose to become midwives.
We can zoom into one concrete case—say, the Gulf SWFs + Vision Fund, or China’s platform governance—and watch this emergent‑then‑strategic pattern play out in a specific “myth episode.” As a civilization-state, won't China resist hollowing out? China is the hardest test case for the “platform‑core, state‑shell” hypothesis — because if any polity on Earth has the civilizational memory, institutional density, and political intentionality to resist hollowing, it’s China. And yet the picture is more paradoxical than a simple yes or no.
China resists hollowing at the level of ideology and sovereignty, but cannot fully resist it at the level of infrastructure and political economy. It’s a dual movement — resistance on the surface, absorption underneath.
1. China’s civilizational‑state identity gives it a strong immune system. China has three deep structural advantages that make it unusually resistant to becoming a “shell” around a platform core:
A. A continuous bureaucratic tradition (it helped China survive the Cultural Revolution. Kinda like Byzantium after Rome fell. China had a 2,000‑year lineage of:
- census systems
- household registration
- taxation
- administrative hierarchy
This gives China a native operating system for governance. It doesn’t need to outsource identity or coordination to platforms.
B. A unified political center
The Party is not a coalition.
It is a centralized, disciplined, self‑reproducing institution with a strong theory of sovereignty, and a powerful motive to back it up.
C. A civilizational narrative
China sees itself not as a nation‑state but as a civilizational vessel.
This gives it a long time horizon and a strong sense of historical mission.
These three traits form a cultural immune system against hollowing.
2. But China’s economy is deeply platformized — and that creates internal pressure. Despite its ideological resistance, China’s economic structure has the same vulnerabilities as the West:
- digital payments
- logistics
- cloud infrastructure
- e‑commerce
- social platforms
- AI ecosystems
These are platform‑core functions, and they are indispensable. China cannot run a modern economy without them. So even though the state resists hollowing, the material base pushes in the opposite direction.
3. China’s solution: absorb the platform core into the state core. This is the key move. Where Western states allow platforms to become quasi‑sovereign, China does something different: it nationalizes the platform core without formally nationalizing the platforms. Mechanisms include:
- Party committees inside tech firms
- data localization laws
- cybersecurity reviews
- antitrust actions
- forced restructuring (e.g., Ant Group)
- state‑controlled investment vehicles taking minority stakes
- “golden shares” with governance rights
China’s strategy is not to destroy platforms. It is to fold them into the state’s nervous system. This is why China doesn’t hollow out. It digests the platform core.
4. The result: a hybrid form — the “state‑platform complex”. China ends up with a structure that looks like this:
State (sovereign, ideological, coercive) ↓
Platform (infrastructural, data‑rich, operational)↓
Capital (domestic + global, but subordinated)
This is the inverse of the Western stack, where capital sits at the top.
China’s version is:
- state‑led
- platform‑powered
- capital‑constrained
It is not a shell. It is a fusion reactor.
5. But even China cannot fully escape the gravitational pull of platform logic. Here’s the subtle part. Even though China keeps platforms politically subordinate, it still depends on them for:
- economic coordination
- social legibility
- surveillance infrastructure
- AI training data
- logistics and mobility
- payments and identity
This means the functional core of governance is increasingly platformized, even if the sovereign core remains statist. So China resists hollowing — but it cannot resist internal transformation. The state remains the shell, but the shell is thick, active, and metabolically dominant.
6. China resists hollowing as a civilizational‑state. But it cannot resist the rise of platform‑core governance. So it does the only thing a strong state can do: it absorbs the platform core into itself.
The West:
state shell → platform core → capital sovereign
China:
state sovereign → platform core → capital subordinate
Both are platformized. But only one is hollowed.
- Does China’s model become the template for other civilizational states (India, Turkey, Indonesia)? (Once the Universal Empire, currently a successor state to Islamic Civ with Caliphate dreams, Turkey's fate is connected to the eastern stretch of a psychological isobar worth calling the “Unamuno–Hedayat Corridor”. This is Bolsen's adopted culture belt, a pressure gradient of civilizational self‑awareness.
- Does the Western model eventually converge toward China’s through regulation? If America's civic strife turns into a military struggle, all bets are off. A Cromwellian Protectorate may emerge from this mess, but it won't be middle class. I have a suggested successor to "bourgeois sovereignty" and the character type that may represent it.
- Does AI strengthen the state‑platform fusion or destabilize it? AI is looking like a Cult of Unreason afflicting the cradle of OCGFC.
- The most pertinent question is: Which nation-state will succumb to this platformating process first?
The UK is the closest thing to a “first fully hollowed” nation‑state, with the US not far behind in a different key.
Here’s the structural logic, not a prophecy:
- Criteria for early hollowing:
(1) High dependence on private platforms for identity, payments, logistics, comms
(2) Deep financialization (OCGFC‑heavy economy)
(3) Weak or fragmented strategic doctrine around “digital sovereignty”
(4) Limited civilizational or party‑state immune system (unlike China)
- Why the UK stands out:
- Financial core, post‑industrial periphery: London as a global OCGFC hub; much of the real economy already subordinated to global capital.
- Platform dependence: Core infrastructures (cloud, social, search, adtech, app ecosystems, even some payments) are overwhelmingly US‑platform dominated.
- Regulatory posture: Strong on regulating harms, weak on building sovereign alternatives—it disciplines platforms but doesn’t replace them.
- Identity and data: No unified civilizational‑state project around digital ID, data, or platforms; it “lives inside” other people’s stacks.
Put bluntly, the UK already behaves like a legal‑military shell wrapped around foreign platform cores and global capital flows. It’s very close to the morphology sketched above.
- The US is different: hollowing from inside its own platforms. The US is not hollowed by foreign platforms; it is hollowed into its own:
- Its platforms are the global cores (Apple, Google, Meta, Amazon, Microsoft). These compose the nucleus of the post-petro faction.
- The state increasingly routes identity, comms, and coordination through them.
- The OCGFC and the platform core are almost co‑extensive.
The US won’t become a shell around foreign cores; it becomes a shell around its own corporate‑platform nervous system. But the MAGA residue is taking on a life and purposes of its own, a former instrument becoming an institutionalized loose cannon.
- Already‑hollow micro‑cases: Some small, highly financialized or city‑state‑like polities (certain Gulf hubs, offshore jurisdictions, micro‑states) are de facto shells already—but they’re more like test fragments than the first full civilizational example.
This is a long shot, but Dr. Steve Hall et al seem determined to resist this very process. The way to see it clearly is to separate what Hall is resisting, what he can actually block, and what he inevitably gets swept into.
1. Hall, Winlow, Treadwell, and the ultra‑realist circle are resisting this process. But what, exactly, are they resisting? They’re not resisting “platforms” per se. They’re resisting the hollowing of meaning‑making institutions — the collapse of:
- community
- symbolic order
- shared narratives
- moral authority
- social cohesion
For Hall, the danger isn’t that platforms become sovereign. It’s that nothing meaningful remains to resist them. Ultra‑realism is a project of re‑embedding:
- re‑embedding subjectivity in material conditions
- re‑embedding ethics in lived experience
- re‑embedding politics in real communities
- re‑embedding agency in a world stripped of it
For Hall, subjectivity is the whole inner architecture of a person:
how they form desires
how they imagine a good life
how they interpret dignity, shame, success
how they relate to others
how they narrate their own agency
It’s not “personality.” It’s the symbolic and emotional scaffolding that lets a human being orient themselves in the world. It is like Kant's phenomenal self, the empirical, changing, socially conditioned self, built up by living within the culture one is born into. In the evolution of the West, it once belonged to a community, but the advent of a money economy began an atomizing process that dissolved the community ties of customs and ethics and connection. Hall argues that neoliberalism has taken this to an extreme, beyond anomie. Traditional institutions that once provided meaning — unions, churches, neighborhoods, extended families — are weakened or destroyed.
People are left with:
consumer identities
online tribalism
status competition
fragile self‑worth
The result is a thin, brittle moral world.
In Hall’s terms:
A damaged subjectivity is a self that has been shaped by structural pressures it cannot name, compelled to pursue desires that harm it, and deprived of the symbolic resources needed to build dignity, solidarity, and meaning. It is:
overburdened by responsibility
under‑resourced symbolically
haunted by insecurity
isolated from communal supports
seduced by consumer fantasies
injured by humiliation and precarity
Hall's program is the opposite of the platform‑state drift, which is a project of dis‑embedding. Hall is resisting the hollowing. On the academic ideological plane:
2. Ultra‑realism is a moral resistance, not an institutional one. Hall’s critique is:
- ethical
- sociological
- anthropological
- phenomenological
It is not:
- infrastructural
- technological
- financial
- geopolitical
Ultra‑realism can diagnose the hollowing. It can critique the hollowing. It can morally condemn the hollowing. But it cannot institutionally counter the hollowing, because the hollowing is driven by:
- capital flows
- platform infrastructures
- global logistics
- AI systems
- data architectures
- financial incentives
These are not moved by critique. They are moved by material power. Hall’s resistance is real — but it is symbolic, not structural. It is an outlook in search of an instrumentality. Either it must reclaim and renovate Labour or create a new political organization Then it can enter the lists on the material level, which is the focus of his own outlook philosophy/
The deeper irony: ultra‑realism’s analysis predicts the rise of platform‑state hollowing. Hall’s core theses actually explain why platform‑states emerge:
A. Pseudo‑pacification → people lose agency → platforms fill the void. When the social world becomes anesthetized, people retreat into mediated environments. Platforms become the new "symbolic order.”
B. Collapse of meaning → people seek identity in digital tribes. Platforms become the new “communities.”
C. Neoliberal subjectivity → people become self‑entrepreneurs. Platforms become the new “marketplaces of selfhood.”
D. Structural violence → people seek frictionless life. Platforms become the new “infrastructures of safety.” Ultra‑realism doesn’t just resist the hollowing. It explains why the hollowing is happening. This is the tragic dimension of Hall’s work: his critique is also a prophecy.
4. So can Hall’s project stop the hollowing? Here’s the sober answer:
Hall can resist the hollowing of the subject. He can help people see through ideology, reclaim agency, understand structural violence, and rebuild meaning. But he cannot stop the hollowing of the state. Because that hollowing is driven by:
- global capital
- platform infrastructures
- AI governance
- financialized incentives
- geopolitical competition
These are not moral problems. They are material architectures that transcend and surround nation-states. Ultra‑realism is a moral‑symbolic counterforce, not a technostructural counterforce.
5. Hall is not fighting the platform‑state. He is fighting the emptiness that allows the platform‑state to take root. He is resisting the inner hollowing, not the outer hollowing. And that resistance matters — because civilizations don’t collapse from losing territory; they collapse from losing symbolic coherence to mental colonialism. Hall is trying to restore that coherence.
There would be no other way to compose a plot for a near-future SF novel without answering the question: Could ultra‑realism become an institutional force, not just a moral one?
If ultra‑realism cannot become an institutional force, then it remains a tragic commentary. But if it can, even in a limited or mutated form, then it becomes the seed of a counter‑order — a rival morphology to the platform‑state.
Could ultra‑realism become an institutional force?
Yes — but only if it mutates.
And the mutation would be dramatic.
Ultra‑realism as written is a diagnostic ethics, not a governing architecture. To become institutional, it would need to evolve into something like:
- a civic‑restorative movement,
- a new form of social‑solidarity infrastructure,
- or a counter‑platform governance model.
1. The “Civic Infrastructure” Path: Ultra‑realism becomes a new kind of public institution. This is the most grounded and realistic path. Ultra‑realism already has:
- a theory of damaged subjectivity
- a critique of symbolic insecurity
- a focus on lived experience
- a commitment to re‑embedding people in real communities
These are the raw materials for institution‑building.
In a near‑future setting, ultra‑realism could evolve into:
A. Community Repair Offices. Local institutions that rebuild social cohesion, mediate conflict, and counter symbolic violence.
B. Subjectivity Clinics. Not therapy — but spaces where people confront the structural forces shaping their lives.
C. Civic Embedding Programs: Institutions that reconnect people to meaningful work, community, and shared narratives.
This is ultra‑realism as public health for the social body.
It’s not a state. But it’s a counter‑infrastructure.
2. The “Institutional Counter‑Platform” Path: Ultra‑realism becomes a governance model. This is the most interesting for fiction. Imagine ultra‑realism not as a critique of platforms, but as a design philosophy for alternative platforms:
- platforms that reduce symbolic insecurity
- platforms that don’t monetize anxiety
- platforms that embed users in real communities
- platforms that expose structural forces instead of hiding them
This would be a counter‑platform technostructure — a rival to the platform‑state. In a novel, this could be:
A decentralized, community‑anchored platform that:
- maps structural violence
- reveals hidden power flows
- strengthens local agency
- resists algorithmic pseudo‑pacification
This is ultra‑realism as technological sovereignty.
3. The “Political‑Ethical Order” Path: Ultra‑realism becomes a new civic ideology. This is the most dramatic path — and the one that fits a near‑future civilizational crisis. Ultra‑realism could become:
- a post‑liberal civic ethic
- a counter‑neoliberal political movement
- a new symbolic order that restores meaning
Its core commitments — tragic realism, structural analysis, moral seriousness — could become the foundation of:
A. A new political party. Focused on rebuilding the social fabric rather than chasing growth metrics.
B. A new civil service ethos. Replacing technocratic managerialism with tragic, grounded realism.
C. A new educational system. Teaching structural literacy, symbolic awareness, and civic agency. This is ultra‑realism as civilizational software.
4. The key constraint: ultra‑realism cannot become institutional without a crisis. This is the tragic hinge. It must mobilize as a response to a civilizational challenge. Ultra‑realism only becomes institutional if:
- the platform‑state falters
- symbolic insecurity reaches a breaking point
- the OCGFC’s technostructure loses legitimacy
- people seek a new moral‑civic order
In other words: Ultra‑realism becomes institutional only when the hollowing becomes unbearable. This is perfect for a near‑future SF novel:
the crisis is the catalyst.
5. The clean synthesis for the plot. Ultra‑realism can become institutional — but only as a counter‑platform civic orde* born from crisis. It won’t seize the state. It won’t overthrow platforms. It won’t defeat the OCGFC.
But it can:
- build new civic infrastructures
- create alternative platforms
- restore symbolic coherence
- re‑embed people in meaningful life
- become the moral‑political core of a new social order
In the near future, ultra‑realism becomes the counter‑sovereign force that re‑threads the world as the platform‑state hollows it out.
Could ultra-realism produce the personality structure advocated by Victor Ferkiss? This would braid together three very different intellectual lineages:
- Ultra‑realism** (Hall, Winlow, Treadwell): a tragic, materialist, psycho‑political ethics aimed at repairing damaged subjectivity. "Tragic" doesn't mean giving up; it means realistically accepting and assessing the damage done to alienated individuals.
- Victor Ferkiss (before the crisis was "fixed" by neoliberalism) was a theorist of technological civilization who imagined a new kind of human personality adapted to a high‑complexity, high‑interdependence world. This includes ecosystemic awareness honed to a sixth sense.
- The psychohistorical intellectual tradition, a consensus put together by civilizational analysts who believed societies rise or fall based on whether they can produce the right kind of personality for their institutional stage. Could ultra‑realism generate the kind of personality Ferkiss thought technological civilization requires? The answer is: Yes — but only if ultra‑realism undergoes a specific mutation: it must shift from a tragic diagnostic ethics into a generative, future‑oriented civic psychology.
1. What Ferkiss actually meant by the “technological person”. Ferkiss wasn’t talking about a gadget‑obsessed technophile. He meant a personality capable of thriving in a world defined by:
- high interdependence
- rapid change
- complex systems
- global scale
- technological mediation
- ecological limits
- pluralistic values
The “technological person” needed to be:
- adaptive
- self‑aware
- non‑dogmatic
- capable of systems thinking
- ethically grounded
- able to integrate multiple identities
- comfortable with ambiguity
- committed to the common good
In other words: a psychologically mature, socially embedded, structurally literate human being.
2. What ultra‑realism produces: the “tragic subject”. Ultra‑realism’s core project is to:
- expose symbolic violence
- reveal structural forces
- dismantle neoliberal fantasies
- restore moral seriousness
- confront the damaged, anxious, competitive subject of late capitalism
Ultra‑realism produces a personality that is:
- disillusioned (in the good sense of "mature")
- structurally aware
- ethically serious (in Tom Nichols' sense)
- anti‑narcissistic
- anti‑fantasy
- grounded in material reality
- capable of tragic insight
This is already half of Ferkiss’s technological person.
Ultra‑realism gives you:
- the moral backbone
- the structural literacy
- the anti‑illusion discipline
- the tragic maturity
But it lacks something essential.
3. What ultra‑realism does not yet produce: the generative, future‑oriented, systems‑adaptive personality.
Ultra‑realism is:
- diagnostic
- tragic
- critical
- restorative
But Ferkiss’s technological person is:
- adaptive
- integrative
- future‑oriented
- system‑building
Ultra‑realism teaches people to see the world clearly. Ferkiss’s personality is someone who can build in that world. Ultra‑realism is a moral psychology. Ferkiss’s personality is a civilizational psychology. To bridge the gap, ultra‑realism would need to mutate into something like:
Ultra‑realist Systems Humanism, a worldview that combines:
- tragic realism
- structural literacy
- ethical seriousness
- systems thinking
- civic imagination
- technological competence
- ecological awareness
This is the personality structure Ferkiss believed technological civilization needed.
4. Could ultra‑realism mutate in this direction? Yes — and SF is the perfect place to dramatize that mutation. Ultra‑realism could evolve into:
A. A civic‑systems pedagogy. Teaching people how to understand and navigate complex systems without illusions.
B. A new form of subjectivity training. Not therapy — but civic‑technological maturity.
C. A counter‑platform ethos. Using technology without being captured by it.
D. A new moral‑political identity. The “embedded, tragic, adaptive citizen.”
This is the personality Ferkiss foresaw.
Ultra‑realism could produce it — but only if it becomes generative, prescriptive, not just diagnostic.
5. The cultural synthesis of Reconstitution. Ultra‑realism can produce the Ferkiss personality — but only if it evolves from a critique of damaged subjectivity into a pedagogy for adaptive, ethical, systems‑literate citizenship.
This could be the hinge:
- The world is hollowed by platform‑states.
- Ultra‑realism begins as a moral resistance.
- A crisis forces it to mutate.
- It becomes a civic‑systems movement.
- It produces the first generation of “technological persons.”
- These become the nucleus of a new civilizational order.
This is the moment where Hall’s tragic realism meets Ferkiss’s technological humanism — and something new is born.
I envision this personality type manifesting among the supply-chain workforce.

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