by William Davies, Jonathan Cape by Carl Miller, William Heinemann
IN 2013, few outside Russia had heard of Valery Gerasimov 鈥� until he wrote a certain article in a military periodical.
Gerasimov, then recently appointed chief of the general staff of the Russian armed forces, used the piece to reflect on the so-called Arab Spring and the novel role of social media and smartphones in mobilising crowds. He suspected that a new form of warfare was emerging, in which states could achieve more without resorting to armed conflict. If they could incite civil unrest against a rival state, to the point of toppling it, then their own forces might simply roll over the borders 鈥� perhaps even in the guise of peacekeepers.
Advertisement
Five years on, the 鈥淕erasimov doctrine鈥� is well known as a controversial rethinking of the future of warfare. It also exemplifies the emergence of a new kind of power, one that knows no frontiers and is based on the ability to penetrate every device connected to the internet.
鈥淭hese firms proudly claim to be 鈥榙isrupters鈥�. Facebook staff are still told to 鈥榤ove fast and break things鈥欌��
Two alarming but excellent books, The Death of the Gods by Carl Miller and Nervous States by William Davies, place the doctrine at the centre of the many tools of technochaos. These matter as our familiar institutional landmarks (Miller鈥檚 鈥渙ld gods鈥�) vanish daily, to be replaced by a disturbing and strange combination of internet tech with military might, fake news and populist targeting. Not to mention the rise of cybercrime, tech corporations the size of states, cryptocurrencies and scary algorithms that track and shape individual lives.
It is likely that all major powers now have a military capable of digital intervention. Miller reports on his visit to the British army鈥檚 77th Brigade, whose barracks display the motto 鈥渂ehavioural change is our USP鈥�. The brigade already numbers several hundred cyberwarriors.
Later, in eastern Europe, Miller meets the generators of what many in the West would regard as fake news, incentivised by a share of ad revenue from the major Silicon Valley outfits. And he warns of the opaque governance of those companies, proudly claiming to be 鈥渄isrupters鈥� heralding a new age. Facebook employees are still told to 鈥渕ove fast and break things鈥�, while at Google, workers tell him the company鈥檚 central purpose is to 鈥渕onetise data鈥�.
The new forms of power made possible by networked technology, says Miller, 鈥渉ave something in common which older鈥� more recognisable forms of power typically do not. They are far less constrained by rules.鈥�
Luckily, there may still be opportunities to resist this. But discovering them means taking into account not just the spread of disinformation, but also why we are vulnerable to it. Davies gives a thoughtful analysis of the influence of fake news and populist rhetoric against experts, statistics and the civil order of liberal democracies.
It will not be enough, he argues, to combat them by increasing calls for rational thought and Enlightenment principles. We must also recognise the emotional triggers that make the irrational effective, especially among people who have not fared well in recent decades. Even in the most democratic countries, inequalities in income and wealth have grown, and the burdens of austerity have fallen largely on the poor. Former manufacturing regions no longer offer skilled work, and both physical and mental health are suffering. For those at the sharp end, talk of national economic growth and social progress means little and may be seen as outright lies.
Citing a review of psychological studies, Davies finds that what makes people most vulnerable to disinformation are factors linked with self-esteem and control. When people feel their status is threatened, and they are victims of social change rather than agents of it, they are more likely to support authoritarian solutions and leaderships that will sweep away the slow process of evidence-based policy-making.
Lurking beneath the surface is a resort to violence, which is why Davies finds this 鈥渨ar-in-peace鈥� concept so worrying. A feature of mass mobilisation in war, first used by Napoleon, is to stir up a sense of injury and a desire for revenge: politicians, Davies reminds us, have long understood the 鈥減olitical energy in suffering and defeat鈥�. We are not facing new types of manipulation, but rather a broader and more intrusive method of delivery.
鈥淔or those at the sharp end, talk of national economic growth and social progress means little鈥�
Other features of war-in-peace include using emergency powers, merging corporate and state power, telling lies designed to affect morale, increased secrecy and restricting knowledge to small groups. Davies sees signs of these in elite tech companies, in which a handful of billionaires have a tight personal grip on ownership and control, and wield influence without oversight.
So how do we resist? Davies thinks experts have a vital role, but only if they recognise and reach out to the emotional component in popular thinking (and their own). More concretely, he suggests we act wherever emotion can usefully help unite populations on rationally sound issues 鈥� such as global warming, the #MeToo movement and the Black Lives Matter campaign.
These are small seeds of hope perhaps, but they are grounded in an encouraging and novel picture of how we got here, and how we might find a way out.
This article appeared in print under the headline 鈥淭he rise of technopower鈥�
