The Technological Republic: Hard Power, Soft Belief, and the Future of the West

Alexander Karp, Nicholas Zamiska (2025)

Every so often, a book comes along that feels less like a piece of commentary and more like a provocation. The Technological Republic struck me that way. It is part manifesto, part warning, and part corporate defense. But above all, it is a call: to technologists, to democracies, to all of us who live in the shadow of accelerating technological change.

I read it with a mixture of agreement and unease. Agreement, because I, too, believe engineers and researchers should direct their skills toward society’s most pressing challenges. Unease, because the book forces me to wrestle with a question: What is technology for?

Purpose Over Apps

Karp and Zamiska argue that technology is never neutral. Every line of code, every model, every platform is an expression of values, whether acknowledged or not. For too long, Silicon Valley has hidden behind a pose of neutrality, pursuing disruption for its own sake while sidestepping responsibility.

Walk through the corridors of any engineering school or startup hub, and you’ll find astonishing talent applied to ad targeting, food delivery apps, or yet another social platform. These things are often celebrated as “innovation,” but the word feels hollow here. The vacuum tube was an innovation; the transistor was an innovation. Those breakthroughs opened entire eras of possibility. By contrast, ordering food through a slightly more polished interface is not the same.

And yet, this is where so many of our best and brightest end up—solving for consumer convenience instead of societal resilience and survival. Imagine if even a fraction of that talent were directed toward healthcare systems, secure infrastructure, or the defense of democratic institutions. The impact would be transformative.

As someone who works at the intersection of AI and cybersecurity, I see a different horizon. Imagine if the same brilliance poured into building entertainment platforms were instead applied to shoring up critical infrastructure, strengthening public health systems, or defending democratic institutions from cyberattack. Imagine if our brightest engineers prioritized resilience over engagement metrics. That is the spirit of the book’s call to purpose—and it’s one I share.

Tech as a Battleground

The book is equally clear on another point: technology has become a battlefield in the contest between liberal democracy and authoritarianism. This is not just about economic competitiveness; it is about civilizational models. Authoritarian regimes are already wielding technology to surveil, suppress, and project power. Democracies cannot afford to sit idle.

The authors write with urgency, especially in AI: if open societies don’t lead, they fall behind. It’s a stark framing, and some readers may find it too binary. But I think the underlying point is sound. We cannot assume that democracy will simply endure. It must be defended — not only by soldiers and diplomats, but also by technologists.

And here again, I find myself nodding. Technical expertise is never divorced from politics, no matter how much engineers may wish it were. The systems we design and deploy ripple outward into the world. They reinforce, or undermine, the conditions of freedom. The choice is ours.

Palantir’s Stand

Of course, The Technological Republic is not only a work of philosophy. It is also, unmistakably, a defense of Palantir. The company positions itself as a tech firm that chose sides: not just building software, but building software for governments and militaries, hopefully aligned with democratic values.

That stance sets Palantir apart from other tech giants that often posture as apolitical or who hesitate to work with defense institutions. For Karp and Zamiska, neutrality is not an option. They claim Palantir’s mission is to strengthen democracies. Whether you agree or not, the book makes its case unapologetically.

There is something refreshing about a company willing to declare its purpose so openly. At the same time, it raises difficult questions. Should the defense of liberal democracy rest on one company’s shoulders? Can we trust the market to allocate responsibility wisely? Or should the broader tech sector—and perhaps governments themselves—carry more of this burden?

Building With Purpose

In the end, I found The Technological Republic less interesting as a corporate defense than as a mirror. It reflects a challenge to all of us working in technology: what are we building, and why? It is provocative and makes no excuses.

I share the authors’ conviction that engineers and researchers should do more than chase the next app. Our work should grapple with the hardest problems—security, climate, health, resilience, democracy itself. Neutrality may feel safe, but it is an illusion.

The book left me with a simple but pressing question, one I’ll pose to you as well:
What are you building—and whose future does it serve?