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Asia Times
24-03-2025
- Politics
- Asia Times
1930s tech bros wanted to merge the US, Canada and Greenland
A movement that wanted to merge North America into one nation and extend its borders as far as the Panama Canal might sound incredibly familiar. But this group, called the 'technocracy movement,' was a group of 1930s nonconformists with big ideas about how to rearrange US society. They proposed a vision that would get rid of waste and make North America highly productive by using technology and science. The Technocrats, sometimes also called Technocracy Inc, proposed merging Canada, Greenland, Mexico, the US and parts of central America into a single continental unit. This they called a 'technate.' It was to be governed by technocratic principles, rather than by national borders and traditional political divisions. These ideas seem to resonate with some recent statements from the Trump administration about merging the US with Canada. Meanwhile, the US Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) set up by Trump and led by tech billionaire Elon Musk, has also outlined a vision of efficiency cuts by slashing bureaucracy, jobs and getting rid of leaders of organizations and civil servants they think are advancing 'woke' values (such as diversity initiatives). This slash-and-burn approach also fits with some of the ideas of the Technocrats. In February, Musk said: 'We really have here rule of the bureaucracy as opposed to rule of the people – democracy.' The Technocrats viewed elected politicians as incompetent. They advocated replacing them with experts in science and engineering, who would 'objectively' manage resources for the benefit of society. 'The people voted for major government reform, and that's what the people are going to get,' Musk told reporters after visiting the White House last month. The 1930s movement was an educational and research organization that advocated for fundamentally reorganizing political, social and economic structures in the US and Canada. It drew on a book called Technocracy , published in 1921 by an engineer named Walter Henry Smyth, which captured new ideas about management and science. The movement gained significant attention during the Great Depression, a period of mass unemployment and economic problems lasting from 1929 to 1939. This was a time when widespread economic failures prompted radical ideas for systemic change. Technocracy appealed to those who saw technological advancements as a potential solution to economic inefficiency and inequality. The Technocrats gained traction largely due to the work of Howard Scott, an engineer and economist, along with a group of engineers and academics from Columbia University. In 1932, Scott founded the Technical Alliance, which later evolved into Technocracy Inc. Scott and his followers held lectures, published pamphlets and attracted a significant following, particularly among engineers, scientists and progressive thinkers. The movement may have influenced the design of future concepts such as planned communities and economies using more automation. The movement's ideological foundation was built on the belief that industrial production and distribution should be managed scientifically. Advocates argued that traditional economic systems such as capitalism and socialism were inefficient and prone to corruption, but that a scientifically planned economy could ensure abundance, stability and fairness. A map from the Cornell University collection on the Technocracy movement. Image: Cornell University PJ Mode Collection of Persuasive Cartography In the 1930s, members of Technocracy Inc sought to replace market-based economies and political governance with a system where experts made decisions based on data, efficiency and technological feasibility. Technocrats aimed to regulate consumption and production based on energy efficiency, rather than market forces. Technocrats also believed that mechanization and automation could eliminate much of the need for human labor, reducing work hours while maintaining productivity. Goods and services would be distributed based on scientific calculations of need and sustainability. While the movement saw rapid growth in the early 1930s, it quickly lost momentum by the mid-to-late 1930s. Echoing some of the concerns of contemporary Americans, critics feared that a government run by unelected experts would lead to a form of authoritarian rule, where decisions would be made without public input or democratic oversight. But are we seeing a rebirth of some of these kinds of ideas in 2025? Musk has a familial connection with the movement, so is likely to be aware of it. His maternal grandfather, Joshua N. Haldeman was a notable figure in the technocracy movement in Canada during the 1930s and 1940s. Musk's ventures, such as the electric car giant Tesla, his space program SpaceX and neurotechnology company Neuralink, prioritize innovation and automation, which aligns with the Technocrats' vision of optimizing human civilization through scientific and technological means. Tesla's push for autonomous vehicles powered by renewable energy, for instance, chimes with the movement's early aspirations for an energy-efficient, machine-managed society. Additionally, SpaceX's ambition to colonize Mars reflects the belief that technological ingenuity can overcome the limitations of living on Earth. There are some significant differences between the current US government and the Technocrats, however. Musk's approach to commerce remains firmly embedded in the free market. His ventures thrive on competition and private enterprise rather than centralized, expert-led planning. And while the Technocrats believed in the abolition of money, wages and traditional forms of trade, the Trump administration clearly doesn't. Trump believes that politicians like him should run the country, along with partners such as Musk. Technocrats worried about elected politicians being driven by self-interest. The current US administration seems to value mixing business interests with government decisions. Although the technocracy movement never became a dominant force, its ideas influenced later discussions on topics such as scientific management and economic planning. The concept of data-driven governance championed by the technocracy movement is part of modern planning, especially in areas like energy efficiency and urban planning. The rise of AI and big data has reignited discussions about the role (and reach) of technocracy in modern society. In countries including Singapore and China governance is dominated by departments headed by those with technological backgrounds, who gain an elite status. In the 1930s, the Technocrats faced significant criticism. The unions, more powerful than today, were almost entirely supportive of the progressive New Deal and its protection of workers' rights, rather than supporting the Technocrats. The US public's resurgent belief in the US government during the New Deal era was far greater than today's declining support of its political institutions, so those institutions would have been better equipped to resist challenges than they are today. The technocracy movement of the 1930s may have faded, but its central ideas continue to shape contemporary debates about the intersection of technology and governmental planning. And, possibly, about who should be in charge. Dafydd Townley is a teaching fellow in international security at the University of Portsmouth . This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
The Guardian
22-03-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Donald Trump's imperial presidency is a throwback to a greedier, pernicious age
Donald Trump's imperial presidency is a tawdry, threadbare affair. The emperor has no clothes to cloak his counterfeit rule. Lacking crown and robes, he resorts to vulgar ties and baseball caps. His throne is but a bully pulpit, his palace a pokey, whitewashed house, his courtiers mere common hacks. His royal edicts – executive orders – are judicially contested. And while he rages like Lear, his critics are publicly crucified or thrown to the lions at Fox News. Yet for all his crudely plebeian ordinariness, a parvenu imperialism is Trump's global offer, his trademark deal and most heinous crime. He peddles it against the tide of history and all human experience, as if invasion, genocide, racial inequality, economic exploitation and cultural conquest had never been tried before. If it wasn't clear already, it is now. He wants to rule the world. Trump's menacing claims to Canada, Panama and Greenland revive the elitist fantasies of Elon Musk's grandfather and Technocracy Inc, a 1930s rightwing populist movement that sought to unite North and Central America under US suzerainty – the 'Technate'. The mindset feeding such pretensions is rooted deep in the national psyche. It's a mix of Monroe doctrine, 'manifest destiny' and the white man's burden. It's evil, it's pernicious, and it's back. In 1823, president James Monroe, fending off predatory European powers, defined what Russia's Vladimir Putin, among others, would today term an American 'sphere of influence'. His doctrine was later used to justify US intervention in Latin America. Manifest destiny was the belief, popularised after 1845, that the young republic was divinely charged with spreading its dominion and 'civilising influence' across the continent and into the Pacific region. Native Americans, exterminated and dispossessed, were principal victims. Manifest destiny helped spread slavery as new states joined the Union. Subsequent colonisations of the Philippines, Cuba and Hawaii were a natural extension. In 1899, Rudyard Kipling's infamously racist poem, The White Man's Burden, urged Americans to emulate the British empire and assume global responsibility for governing 'new-caught sullen peoples'. That latter phrase aptly describes Trump's view today of 2 million Palestinians ensnared in Gaza, whom he wants to deport to Somaliland or some other promised land. Migrants corralled at the Mexico border face the white man's burdensome prejudices, too. Would Trump attempt ethnic cleansing of the lighter-skinned, mostly Christian, citizens of war-torn Ukraine? Everyone knows the answer to that one. While lacking the older varieties' surface pomp and majesty, Trump's born-again imperialism bears the ugly hallmarks of earlier iterations. As before, it comes down to power and money, military might and economic pressure (such as tariffs), control of land, racial and cultural supremacy and an utterly hypocritical morality. It's causing uproar at home. It infects every aspect of foreign policy. Trump may not be actively conniving in the killing and expulsion of Ukraine's Indigenous population, but he's doing his best to rob them of their birthright. In a travesty of negotiation, he cedes territory to Putin, bullies Kyiv's leaders into seething submission, then makes a grab for Ukraine's mineral wealth. Now he wants its nuclear power plants, too. This is not about making peace. It's about making money. In Gaza, Trump picks over the bones before the victim has even died. Basic legalities, let alone humanity, are jettisoned. No matter that Israel's genocidaires have killed about 50,000 Palestinians. He wants the seafront property free of charge, its surviving owners evicted, so he can build a luxury resort. 'Welcome to the Rafah Riviera, the Trump Organisation's Nakba-on-the-Med. Enjoy your stay!' Trump and his advisers envisage three neo-imperial superpower blocs, the US, Russia and China, united in disregard for the UN charter, international law and human rights and acting as they please in self-allotted spheres of influence. In this upended age, Russia is a lucrative business partner while European and Asian allies must fend for themselves. As ever, developing countries are exploited for their resources. To mangle George Canning, the Old World falls prey to the New. In the wider Middle East, Trump is infinitely more interested in forging a US-Saudi-Israel security, energy and investment alliance than in ending the Palestinian tragedy. A significant obstacle is Iran, another historical victim of colonialists. In his latest Putin schmooze, Trump asked for Russia's help in containing its ally. Mullahs beware: there's a whiff of betrayal in the air. Like big-power bullies throughout history, Trump picks on easy targets. Danish-owned Greenland and Panama exemplify the type of weak, defenceless country that 19th-century European empires scrambled for in Africa. In contrast, note how abnormally quiet is loudmouthed Trump about China, America's most powerful 21st-century rival. Sign up to Observed Analysis and opinion on the week's news and culture brought to you by the best Observer writers after newsletter promotion Tariff wars aside, his caution points towards a future strategic accommodation with Beijing. Like Putin, president Xi Jinping is playing it cool with Trump so far. These tuppenny tsars share much in common: authoritarianism, national aggrandisement, ruthless greed. So why fight? All three can be winners, and to winners go the spoils. Look out, Taiwan, meat in an unsavoury US-China sandwich. Imperialism has evolved since the time of gunboats, missionaries and unequal treaties. Absent now is a sense of higher calling and noble purpose. Pioneering frontiersmen pursuing America's manifest destiny genuinely believed theirs was a righteous cause. British colonial administrators thought they did God's (and Queen Victoria's) work. Today's conquerors betray few such illusions. Even so, Trump casts himself as compassionate, noble-minded peacemaker. So will he pursue peace in desperate Sudan, Myanmar or Congo? Will he stop those 'horrible wars' too? No, he will not. Such places do not feature on his redrawn maps. There's no money or kudos in it for him. And this particular white man's burden sharing does not extend to losers. In a new, disorderly imperial age, megalomania waives the rules. Simon Tisdall is the Observer's Foreign Affairs Commentator
