When Big Tech rewards the worst of who we are, what can you do?
The time we spent together last night was so special because despite our differences, we shared a space where we all felt safe. Sadly, this isn’t the world we live in today. But last night proved it doesn’t take much to create it; all it needs is our collective will and our empathy.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been to Reyjkavik, a gathering of more than 400 women leaders led by Iceland’s female president, to Johannesburg, where 600 civil rights leaders gathered to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the end of apartheid, and to Cape Town, to deliver the Desmond Tutu lecture on the 40th anniversary of his peace prize.
In a 4-hour meeting in Nelson Mandela’s house, as chair of the World Movement for Democracy, I heard bleak assessments of democracy around the world from our steering committee: of the rise of the far right globally; how we are electing illiberal leaders democratically (as of early this year, for example, V-Dem said that 71% of the world is now under autocratic rule); how 2024, the tipping point year for elections — when about half the world voted — may have set the stage for the end of democracy.
From Venezuela, Afghanistan, Zimbabwe, Mozambique to South Korea, which declared martial law and then rescinded it … to France, which just lost its prime minister, to Georgia, which has had 10 days of violent protests. At least 500 arrested, friends are now saying 270, many journalists, were beaten brutally by government thugs.
For years now, I’ve shown data in different countries around the world that technology is the match that set the world’s dry kindling on fire. Move fast, break things, said Mark Zuckerberg — and Big Tech broke democracy.
I learned that the fracture lines of society pounded open are the same regardless of country or culture. The main two are gender and race — and the attacks are fueled by religion. Sexism that turns into misogyny; and racism that finds its way into constitutions like Hungary, where it’s called white replacement theory. You’ll hear it in the news as immigration or inflation, but dig deeper, and you will see gender and race.
When I turn on the news, it almost feels like we’re already in World War III — from the trenches of Ukraine to the rubble of Gaza and the forgotten battlegrounds of Sudan, Myanmar, until recently, Syria and many other invisible conflicts around the world. But these are wars fought not just with missiles and tanks, but with algorithms, disinformation, and the systematic destruction of truth.
Big Tech — from American companies in Silicon Valley to China’s TikTok — transformed social media from a tool of connection into a weapon of mass behavioral engineering. These platforms are not neutral technologies; they are sophisticated systems designed to exploit our deepest psychological vulnerabilities. They monetize our outrage and hate; amplify our divisions; and systematically erode our capacity for nuanced thinking and empathy.
In 2018, MIT said that lies spread 6 times faster on social media. You tell a lie a million times, it becomes a fact.
Betrayal of human dignity
Without facts, you can’t have truth. Without truth, you can’t have trust. Without these three, we don’t have a shared reality, let alone solve existential problems like climate change. We can’t have journalism; we can’t have democracy.
The business model of Big Tech — surveillance capitalism — is built on a fundamental betrayal of human dignity — where data privacy has become a myth, and AI and algorithms have cloned and manipulated us:
- Creating echo chambers that exacerbate existing biases;
- Prioritizing conflict over understanding;
- Monetizing human attention at the expense of social cohesion.
This is not an accident. It is a deliberate design that brings in hundreds of billions of dollars a year to these companies.
In this world, people of faith have a critical role that goes beyond individual belief. Your congregations, your interfaith networks, your community organizations are not just sanctuaries of spiritual reflection – they are — like journalists — the frontline defenders of our shared democratic values.
In my book, How to Stand Up to a Dictator, I write about how the golden rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” has guided me throughout my life.
It helped define courage for me in a world increasingly shaped by lies: the courage to speak when silence is safer; the courage to build bridges when walls seem easier; and the courage to stand for truth even when it feels like the entire world is against you.
I like the South African word ubuntu — “I am because we are” — an antidote to many of our problems today. It’s a universal truth that our faith communities embody. The pain of one is the pain of all.
When Big Tech rewards the worst of who we are, UBUNTU teaches us that our fates are interconnected; that the fight for truth, justice, and peace is not someone else’s battle; it is ours.
So what can you do? I have 4 suggestions:
- Collaborate, collaborate, collaborate. Build and strengthen trust now to close the fracture lines of society that information operations will try to pound open, pitting us against each other.
- 2. Speak truth with moral clarity. Silence in the face of injustice is complicity. Whether it’s systemic racism, economic inequality, or the erosion of democratic norms, people of faith must reclaim their prophetic voice. Demand transparency and accountability from those who control our public information ecosystems — from governments to Big Tech to media.
- Protect the Most Vulnerable. Support journalists, human rights defenders and activists who risk their lives. Remember the Martin Neimoller quote from Germany? Here’s our PH version — published by our largest newspaper after my first arrest: “First they came for the journalists. We don’t know what happened next.” Your networks can be powerful shields for marginalized communities. Support immigrants, religious minorities, the LGBTQ+ and others who face discrimination. Your collective vigilance can prevent the normalization of hate.
- Recognize Your Power. Building peace is not reserved for heroes; it’s the collective work of people who refuse to accept and live lies. Rappler would not have survived without the help of our community, always reminding me of the goodness of human nature. You are powerful and can be part of a tidal wave of change for the good.
Let me repeat them: collaborate, collaborate, collaborate; speak truth with moral clarity; protect the most vulnerable; and recognize your power.
Even at the worst of times, hope is not passive; it’s active, relentless and strategic. Our faith traditions carry centuries of resilience; we need to share those stories of transformation.
There’s this TS Eliot quote I love about “the present moment of the past.” It’s the idea that the latest novel you read is affected by the fact that you read Shakespeare, but your understanding and appreciation of Shakespeare will be affected by the latest novel that you read.
In this present moment of our shared past, we have a choice — and it will create our future as much as change how we look at our past. We can allow the fracture lines in our society to break open. Or we can work to heal the growing divides.
Because this is it. This time matters. What you choose to do matters. – Rappler.com
Maria Ressa delivered this speech on December 8, 2024, in Los Angeles, after receiving the Beerman Award for Social Justice in Action.
