The end of democracy rarely arrives with sirens and flames. More often, it fades quietly—choice by choice, habit by habit, until the rituals remain but the substance has gone.
In their timely paper, Don’t Panic (Yet), Felix Simon and Sacha Altay remind us that the AI apocalypse never arrived in 2024. Despite a frenzy of deepfakes and fears of algorithmic manipulation, the great elections of that year were not decided by chatbots or microtargeted propaganda. The decisive forces were older and more human: politicians who lied, parties who suppressed votes, entrenched inequalities that shaped turnout and trust.
Their conclusion is measured: mass persuasion is hard. Studies show political ads, whether crafted by consultants or large language models, move few votes. People cling to their partisan identities, update beliefs only at the margins, and treat most campaign noise as background static. The public is not gullible. Even misinformation, now turbocharged by generative AI, is limited in reach by attention, trust, and demand.
In this sense, Simon and Altay are right: the panic was misplaced. AI was not the kingmaker of 2024.
But here is the danger: what if reassurance itself is the illusion?
The great risk of AI to democracy does not lie in a single election “hacked” by bots. It lies in the slow erosion of the conditions that make democracy possible. Simon and Altay diagnose panic as a cycle society overreacts to every new medium. Yet what if this is not a panic at all, but an early recognition that AI represents not another medium, but a structural shift?
Democracy depends on informational sovereignty citizens’ capacity to orient themselves in a shared reality. Generative AI now lives inside search engines, social feeds, personal assistants. It does not need to persuade in the crude sense. It reshapes the field of visibility what facts surface, what stories disappear, what worlds seem plausible.
Simon and Altay show that persuasion is weak. But erosion is strong.
Trust erodes when deepfakes and synthetic voices make truth itself suspect.
Agency erodes when predictive systems anticipate our preferences and feed them back before we form them.
Equality erodes when the wealthiest campaigns and nations can afford bespoke algorithmic influence while the rest of the citizenry navigates blind.
In 2024, democracy endured not because AI was harmless, but because old buffers mainstream media, partisan loyalty, civic inertia still held. These reserves are not infinite. They are the borrowed time on which democracy now runs.
So yes: panic may be premature if we define it as fearing that one election will be stolen by machines. But complacency is suicidal if we fail to see how AI, fused with the logics of surveillance capitalism, is hollowing democracy from within.
The question is not whether AI will swing the next vote. The question is whether, by the time we notice, the very meaning of choice will already have been diminished.
Democracy may survive a storm. What it cannot survive is the slow normalization of living inside someone else’s algorithm.
Today, September 12, the European Union stands at a breaking point. Behind the dry name “Regulation to Prevent and Combat Child Sexual Abuse” hides a law that would scan every private message sent across the continent. WhatsApp. Signal. Telegram. None would escape. Encryption would be gutted before it even begins.
The idea is sold as protection for children. The reality is the birth of mass surveillance in Europe.
Germany is the Decider
Fifteen governments have lined up in support. Yet they lack the population weight to push it through. Germany alone carries enough heft to make or break the law. If Berlin backs it, the measure passes. If Berlin resists, it collapses. If Berlin hesitates, the door opens to a watered-down compromise that is no less dangerous.
This is not just another policy debate. It is a turning point in Europe’s identity. Germany is not voting on a technicality. It is choosing whether every citizen will be treated as a suspect by default.
Why the Law is Rotten
The technology does not work. Filters cannot reliably identify abuse material. False alarms will overwhelm investigators. Real predators will slip through unnoticed. Courts in both Luxembourg and Karlsruhe have already warned against blanket surveillance. The law is built on shaky ground, legally and technically.
And the moral cost is staggering. A society that normalizes scanning every private word has abandoned the presumption of innocence. The right to whisper without permission is not a luxury. It is the bedrock of democracy.
The Mirage of Safety
Child protection is sacred, but it demands real solutions. Better investigators. Faster cross-border cooperation. Proper funding for Europol. Not a blunt instrument that spies on everyone while failing the very children it claims to defend.
This is more than a law. It is a declaration of what kind of Europe we want to inhabit. One path leads to a continent of suspicion, where private speech exists only by state permission. The other path preserves Europe as the last great defender of digital freedom in a world where both Washington and Beijing demand backdoors.
The Question
If Germany votes yes, it will not simply pass a regulation. It will write the obituary of Europe’s private life.
The question for today is not what happens if we reject Chat Control. The question is what happens to Europe if we accept it.
Imagine a nation where the highest office is used not to serve the people, but to serve personal interests. Where a president’s words—“THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO BUY!!! DJT”—precede policy reversals that cause markets to surge, raising questions of insider trading and market manipulation.
This isn’t a political thriller. It’s our current reality.
On the morning of April 9, 2025, former President Donald Trump took to his platform, Truth Social, and made a declaration that would ripple across global markets. Mere hours later, he announced a 90-day pause on newly imposed tariffs—a policy reversal so sudden, so financially beneficial to anyone with foresight, that it sent the S&P 500 soaring by 9.5%. Billions were made in hours.
Coincidence? Maybe. But let’s be honest with ourselves: If any other leader had acted in such a manner, would we remain silent? Would we accept this erosion of democratic norms and economic integrity?
We are not witnessing bold leadership—we are witnessing a game of power and profit played at the highest level, one that threatens the very foundation of public trust. And what’s worse, it’s unfolding right in front of us, cloaked in bravado and distraction.
This Is Bigger Than One Man
This isn’t about red vs. blue. It’s about right vs. wrong.
What we’re seeing is a convergence of power, profit, and policy in the hands of one individual who has shown time and again a willingness to blur ethical lines for personal gain. A man who owns stock in his own company—DJT—while simultaneously holding the power to influence markets, policies, and public behavior.
Imagine if any CEO tweeted about their own company hours before a massive stock surge driven by a policy change they controlled. Would that not be investigated? Would that not spark outrage?
And yet, we treat it differently when it comes from a former president who continues to dominate the political stage. Why?
The Erosion of Trust
When the line between governance and grift becomes indistinguishable, the result is a collapse in public faith. If citizens believe that markets are rigged and leaders are self-dealing, why should they follow the rules? Pay their taxes? Participate in democracy?
Democracies don’t die in dramatic coups. They erode slowly—bit by bit—as public trust is replaced with cynicism, and institutions become tools of the powerful rather than safeguards for the people.
That’s the true cost of what’s unfolding—not just billions shifted in markets, but the quiet corrosion of belief in the system itself.
The Rule of Law Must Apply to All
Some legal experts argue that Trump’s post doesn’t meet the narrow definition of insider trading. After all, he didn’t leak non-public information to a friend over lunch. He shouted it from the rooftop.
But that’s exactly the problem. We’ve reached a point where even blatant conflicts of interest are dismissed because they don’t fit the textbook definition of illegality.
When the laws can’t—or won’t—catch up to the abuse of power, the people must.
We must ask: Is the system broken, or is it simply working as designed—to protect those at the top while punishing those without access?
This Is a Wake-Up Call
It’s time to awaken to the gravity of these actions. To recognize that our democracy is not self-sustaining—it demands participation, scrutiny, and accountability. Power unchecked becomes tyranny. Profit unregulated becomes plunder.
So what can we do?
We can demand real investigations—not performative hearings, but thorough, independent oversight.
We can elect leaders who value public service over personal enrichment.
We can push for reforms in financial transparency, conflict-of-interest rules, and real-time financial disclosures for public officials.
And most importantly, we can stop pretending this is normal.
Because it’s not.
This is a defining moment.
Not because one man tweeted about a stock—but because of what we choose to do next.
Trust is the currency of progress. It’s what holds democracies together, what makes economies function, what turns strangers into communities. Lose it, and everything starts to break down.
Right now, trust is running on empty.
According to the2025 Edelman Trust Barometer, only 36% of peoplebelieve the next generation will be better off. That’s not just a number. That’s a warning sign. A flashing red light. A sign that something fundamental is breaking in the relationship between people and the institutions that are supposed to serve them.
And let’s be clear: This didn’t happen overnight.
Financial crises that bailed out banks but left families behind.
Governments that promise change but serve the same interests.
Media that once informed but now profits off outrage.
Corporations that talk about sustainability while polluting the planet.
Trust wasn’t stolen from us. It was chipped away, one broken promise at a time.
How Trust Dies (And Why That Should Terrify Us)
People don’t wake up one morning and decide to stop trusting institutions. It happens slowly, then all at once.
We see politicians lie, and nothing happens.
We see billionaires amass record wealth while wages stagnate.
We see AI making decisions about our lives, and we have no idea how or why.
And over time, we stop expecting anything different.
That’s the real danger—not just that trust is declining, but that we’re getting used to it. That we’ve reached a point where corruption, deception, and broken promises don’t even shock us anymore.
Because once trust is gone, what comes next?
People disengage from politics. And when people stop believing the system can change, the only ones left running it are the ones who benefit from keeping it broken.
The economy stagnates. If workers don’t trust corporations, if consumers don’t trust brands, if investors don’t trust markets—growth slows.
Misinformation thrives. When people don’t trust journalists, they trust whoever confirms their fears. When everything feels like propaganda, the loudest voices win.
This isn’t just a crisis of trust. It’s a crisis of what happens when trust runs out.
Can We Fix This? Yes—But Only If We Demand It
Rebuilding trust isn’t about putting out better press releases. It’s about delivering results. And that means:
Radical Transparency. No more fine print. No more vague promises. If an institution wants trust, it has to earn it in public.
Accountability That Actually Matters. If politicians lie, they should lose power. If companies deceive, they should lose profits. If AI makes decisions that affect us, we should know exactly how.
Media That Puts Truth Over Clicks. We need journalism that informs, not inflames. Outrage makes money, but trust makes democracy work.
Leadership That Serves, Not Profits. The institutions that survive the next decade will be the ones that put people first. Not stockholders. Not advertisers. People.
The trust crisis isn’t just about politics, or business, or media
It’s about whether we believe in the idea that institutions can serve the people again.
Because if we don’t believe that, we’ve already lost.
But if we do—if we demand better, if we hold power accountable, if we refuse to accept that this is just the way things are—then trust isn’t gone for good.
It’s just waiting to be rebuilt.
The only question left is: Are we willing to fight for it?
On the morning of January 6, 2021, the world watched as a mob stormed the U.S. Capitol. It was a moment of reckoning—chaos unleashed in the heart of the world’s most celebrated democracy.
Some called it a rebellion, others an insurrection. But to an ancient Greek historian named Polybius, it would have been something else entirely: inevitable.
More than 2,000 years ago, Polybius introduced a concept that few remember today, but whose relevance has never been greater: Anakyklosis—the Cycle of Political Evolution. It’s the idea that all governments, no matter how just or noble, are doomed to fall into predictable patterns of corruption, decay, and rebirth. It’s a cycle we have seen time and again, from the fall of Rome to the rise of authoritarian populism in the 21st century.
And if history tells us anything, it’s that the cycle is turning once more in 2025.
The Cycle of Power: From Democracy to Mob Rule
Polybius laid out the six stages of government like a tragic script, one that civilizations unknowingly follow, again and again:
Ochlokratia (Mob Rule – Corrupt)– Democracy descends into chaos, manipulated by demagogues and misinformation, leading to collapse and the rise of a new monarchy.
Sound familiar? It should. Because right now, the world’s great democracies are teetering on the edge of ochlokratia—mob rule. The signs are all around us in 2025 and maybe earlier than that!
America, Rome, and the Dangers of Late-Stage Democracy
A democratic system once admired, where power was shared among elected officials.
A growing divide between the elite and the working class, fueling discontent.
The rise of populist leaders who promised to “fix the system” while eroding its foundations.
Political violence becoming normalized, as factions turned to force instead of debate.
By the time Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon in 49 BCE, Rome had already crossed a point of no return. Democracy had rotted from within, paving the way for empire.
Now, look around in 2025. The warning signs are eerily similar:
Rising wealth inequality—a handful of billionaires hold more wealth than entire nations, with AI-driven economies exacerbating disparities.
Populist strongmen winning elections by exploiting public disillusionment, now amplified by deepfake propaganda and AI-manipulated media.
A disinformation crisis, where truth is drowned in a sea of conspiracy theories, with major news organizations struggling to compete with viral AI-generated misinformation.
Governments increasingly paralyzed by polarization, unable to solve real problems, as social unrest escalates globally.
The rise of authoritarian tendencies, with leaders undermining democratic institutions under the guise of “protecting the people,” now armed with digital surveillance and AI-powered state control.
Like Rome before it, modern democracy is not dying from external threats. It is crumbling from within—now at an accelerated pace thanks to technology.
The Digital Age and the Acceleration of Ochlokratia
Polybius never could have predicted social media, but if he had, he would have seen it as the ultimate accelerator of political decay.
In 2025, the situation has worsened. AI-driven content manipulation, hyper-personalized propaganda, and algorithm-driven outrage cycles have turned democracy into a battleground of perception over reality. Deepfake videos, voice clones, and AI-generated political figures blur the line between truth and fiction. The digital public square, once seen as a beacon of democratic engagement, has become an ecosystem of rage-fueled disinformation, rewarding extremism over nuance, engagement over truth.
And so we find ourselves in the final stage of democracy—the moment where people, manipulated by demagogues, AI-driven propaganda, and digital algorithms, turn against the very system meant to protect them.
Can We Break the Cycle?
If the ancient Greeks were right, the natural next step is a return to authoritarian rule—a strongman rising from the ashes, promising to “fix” the broken system, but at the cost of freedom.
But history is not destiny. The cycle is a warning, not a prophecy.
Democracies do not fail overnight. They erode, piece by piece, as citizens grow complacent, as leaders exploit fear, as institutions weaken under the weight of corruption. And yet, history has also shown that the fate of a nation is not written in stone—it is written by those who refuse to let history repeat itself.
The solution does not lie in nostalgia for the past, but in rebuilding trust, strengthening institutions, and restoring civic engagement. It lies in resisting the allure of simple answers to complex problems. It lies in demanding accountability from leaders, media, and ourselves.
In 2025, it also means tackling the AI-driven erosion of democracy, ensuring that technology serves the people rather than manipulates them. We must regulate AI in politics, educate citizens on digital literacy, and push for transparent governance in an age where deception has never been easier.
Polybius gave us the diagnosis. The question now is: Will we choose a different ending?
We stand at a crossroads, just as Rome did, just as every great civilization has before us.
The forces of history are powerful, but they are not absolute.
As Martin Luther King, Jr1., once said, “The arc of the moral universe may bend toward justice, but it does not bend on its own.” We, the people, must be the ones to bend it.
Because democracy is not a given. It is a choice. And that choice is ours to make—before history that always tends to repeat itself makes it for us.
There was a time when democracy belonged to the people—not to wallets or ad budgets, but to voices and ideas.
It was messy. It was passionate. It was imperfect. But it was ours.
Today, that promise feels further away.
What happens when the voice of a citizen is no longer measured by the strength of their argument but by the size of their wallet? What happens when democracy becomes a game of pay-to-play—when influence is bought, not earned? Well basically what we see all over our world.
While digital platforms allow politicians to reach millions, they also create new risks. Low-cost, high-reach ads enable more voices—but at what cost to democracy?
The New Political Battlefield
Digital technologies have completely transformed political campaigning. Social media platforms like Facebook, YouTube, TikTok and Instagram and ads across the Google/Youtube network offer politicians massive reach at a fraction of the cost of traditional media.
But there’s a dark side to this transformation.
Big data and micro-targeting have turned political advertising into a tool for emotional manipulation and voter exploitation. Platforms collect personal data—preferences, interests, fears—and hand it over to campaigns. Malicious actors tailor messages to trigger specific emotions, often using disinformation to sway public opinion.
And the cost isn’t just to political debate. It’s to our freedom of opinion, our access to transparent information, and our trust in democracy itself.
Why Transparency Matters
The European Union has taken steps to address this and hopefully change things for the better. In February 2024, the European Parliament adopted new transparency rules for political advertising. These rules aim to:
Ensure political ads are clearly labelled.
Reveal who sponsored the ad, how much they paid, and why a user was targeted.
Ban micro-targeting based on sensitive personal data—such as ethnicity, religion, or sexual orientation.
For the first time, sponsoring ads from outside the EU will also be banned in the three months leading up to elections.
“Digital technologies make citizens more vulnerable to disinformation and foreign interference. Now more than ever, it is crucial to safeguard our democratic and electoral processes. The rules adopted today play a pivotal role in helping citizens discern who is behind a political message and make an informed choice when they head to the polls. With the European elections approaching, we urge all major online platforms to start applying the new rules as soon as possible and ensure the digital space remains a safe place to exchange political ideas and opinions”
Transparency is a start—but it doesn’t erase the deeper problem: money still determines who gets heard and this will continue to apply.
This imbalance is growing, and with it, the gap between those who can afford to play—and those left behind.
When the Margins Rise
And yet, there’s hope.
In 2020, Stacey Abrams and her grassroots organization Fair Fight Action transformed voter turnout in Georgia. Through community organizing, digital outreach, and relentless advocacy, her team overcame systemic barriers to reach voters who had long been excluded from the political process.
Her success wasn’t powered by the biggest ad budget. It was fueled by purpose and the belief that democracy works best when everyone participates.
This story reminds us: Money matters, but passion and persistence can still punch through.
The Real Cost of Silence
If democracy becomes something you can buy, what happens to those who can’t afford it?
What happens to voters when they can’t trust the information they see? What happens to elections when money doesn’t just buy ads—it buys influence?
The European Union’s steps toward transparency are progress. But the real question remains:
Who gets heard? Who gets silenced? And what future are we building when the price of political influence keeps rising?
In the end, it is all about what kind of democracy we want
One where the wealthiest voices dominate—or one where every citizen has a seat at the table?
What happens when the algorithms we trust to inform us are rigged to reward dollars/euros etc over discourse?
Democracy isn’t a product. It’s not a brand. It’s a promise. A promise that belongs to all of us—not just those who can afford to buy in.
Just how unscrupulous are international PR agencies that work on election campaigns? Using a fake identity, investigative journalist Peter Kreysler infiltrates their inner workings. Along with journalist Gesine Enwaldt, Kreysler documents the world of campaign strategists, from the inside. The documentary provides undercover insights into the unscrupulous methods of these well-paid opinion makers. These PR professionals work globally, on numerous national election campaigns. They use sophisticated digital methods to influence and manipulate unsuspecting citizens.
