In Technopoly, Neil Postman’s observation that every technology creates “winners and losers” challenges the widespread assumption that progress is invariably a tide lifting all boats. He draws on the work of Harold Innis to illustrate how technological shifts reconfigure social power dynamics. When a tool or system becomes indispensable, those who control it gain prestige and authority, while those excluded from it often see their influence dwindle.
A classic historical example is the printing press. Before its invention, churches and royal courts dominated the flow of religious and political information. Scribes who could painstakingly copy texts held positions of special respect. Then, as Gutenberg’s press spread throughout Europe, literacy rates began to rise and religious hierarchies lost their monopoly on scriptural interpretation. The “winners” of this shift were individuals and groups that harnessed print to spread new ideas—such as Martin Luther, who famously declared printing to be “God’s highest act of grace.” In that sense, the press empowered a broad public, but it also spawned a new elite: skilled printers, publishers, and authors, who became gatekeepers of the burgeoning book market. For many centuries, access to the machinery of print—and the literacy required to benefit from it—conferred disproportionate cultural capital.
This pattern repeats whenever a major technology reaches critical mass. Consider Galileo’s advocacy of mathematics as the “language of nature.” Over time, this numerical lens became a primary way of understanding and measuring reality. Consequently, those with mathematical and scientific training acquired a new level of influence over everything from navigation to medical breakthroughs to national policy. We see echoes of this today in the domain of computer science. Programmers, data scientists, and AI specialists hold the keys to crucial software infrastructures. Their expertise translates into economic power, professional prestige, and decision-making clout—especially in societies that rely heavily on digital platforms for commerce and communication.
Postman emphasizes that the rest of us often applaud these developments because the benefits seem tangible: faster research, cheaper goods, instant connectivity. Yet we may fail to notice that such transformations also place enormous authority in the hands of an expert class. When entire industries hinge upon software or advanced engineering, the broader population can become dependent on a relatively small group who speak a specialized technical language. Not only do they shape the flow of information, they can set standards, redefine professional norms, and determine what knowledge is seen as valid or important.
In other words, a “knowledge monopoly” emerges, akin to the ancient scribes who had the rare skill of reading and writing. It is entirely possible that new winners—programmers, data analysts, technology entrepreneurs—may create tools ostensibly for public benefit, while also deepening social inequalities. Worse yet, many of the people left behind might still welcome these changes, dazzled by gadgets and breakthroughs while remaining excluded from their creation and governance.
For Postman, vigilance is key. The task is not to reject technological advances but to recognize the unequal distribution of power they can bring. If our aim is a democratic society, we should seek ways to ensure that new technologies do not remain the exclusive domain of a privileged few. Rather, we should strive to broaden access, understanding, and decision-making about the technologies that shape modern life. By doing so, we acknowledge that every tool must be managed wisely, lest it evolve into yet another mechanism for concentrating authority in the hands of “the winners.”
Source: