Big Tech, Bolsonarism, and the Erosion of Democracy

This post is part of a series of contributor perspectives and analyses called "The Coming Age of Tech Trillionaires and the Challenge to Democracy." Learn more about the call for contributions here, and read other pieces in the series as they are published here.

Brazil’s recent democratic turbulence offers a sharp lens through which to observe how digital technologies—initially hailed as tools for civic empowerment—can be co-opted into infrastructures of destabilization. In the case of former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s government, platforms designed to amplify participation were instead used to erode trust in institutions, normalize disinformation, and coordinate attacks on democratic space.

This essay argues that the Brazilian experience reveals the fragility of digital democracies when confronted by the combined power of populist politics and unaccountable tech elites. It examines how digital systems designed for openness can be manipulated to favor exclusion and chaos, particularly in contexts where the state withdraws or aligns with corporate interests. In doing so, it invites reflection on how civil society, public institutions, and the global governance ecosystem might reclaim digital space as a terrain for pluralism, rights, and democratic resilience.

Erosion: undermining Brazilian democracy

“About January 8th—they’re blaming it all on me [sic]. But what kind of coup happens on a Sunday, without anyone being ousted? A coup without weapons, without the military? Just elderly ladies with flags and Bibles under their arms?” said former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro in a 2023 interview.

This is one of the main narratives adopted by Bolsonaro and his supporters—both political and civilian: that the attack on Brazil’s three branches of government was merely a peaceful protest, distorted by the Supreme Court to justify political persecution. The argument, which reduces the episode to a caricature of patriotic grannies, deliberately ignores the long and calculated process that preceded it: a progressive assault on the electoral system and an environment of institutional rupture built over years.

Back when he was still a military officer, Bolsonaro was accused of plotting to bomb army facilities to demand salary increases, as reported by Veja magazine in 1987. Although the Military Ethics Council found him guilty of behavior unbecoming of an officer, the Superior Military Court ultimately acquitted him due to lack of documentary evidence. In 1988, he was transferred to the reserve force after being elected city councilor in Rio de Janeiro, in accordance with military statutes. From that point on, Bolsonaro increasingly voiced admiration for Brazil’s civil-military dictatorship and for figures such as known torturer Brilhante Ustra — positions that would later propel him into the national political spotlight.

His political career consistently flirted with authoritarianism but gained momentum in the age of social media, where he adeptly exploited the algorithmic logic of scandal and virality. Still, his rise took place within democratic institutions—a paradox that reveals a systemic flaw: the very mechanisms meant to contain extremism ended up legitimizing it.

Elected President of the Republic in 2018, Bolsonaro cast doubt on the reliability of Brazil’s electronic voting machines even in the very election that brought him to power. He claimed, without evidence, that he would have won outright in the first round if not for fraud. This insinuation was far from isolated: over the course of his presidency, Bolsonaro made at least 183 public attacks against the electoral system, according to the Monitor of Political Debate in the Digital Environment. During the same period, the Superior Electoral Court (TSE) issued more than 270 alerts regarding similar disinformation circulating online. Undermining the electoral process became a cornerstone of Bolsonaro’s political strategy, supported by a digital ecosystem that spanned social media, messaging apps, video channels, and livestreams.

Immersed in a post-truth culture—where emotional appeals matter more than objective facts—and amid growing voter disillusionment, Brazilian politics increasingly became a space where scandal trumps evidence and calculated lies serve as tools of mobilization. The persistent assault on the credibility of the voting system not only eroded public trust in democratic procedures but also normalized the idea that such a system could—and perhaps should—be overthrown. The rhetorical erosion of democracy laid the groundwork for its practical corrosion.

Eruption: the assault on democratic institutions

What had previously been limited to symbolic and digital rhetoric reached its most violent expression on January 8th, 2023. What some dismissed as a disorganized protest was, in fact, the materialization of a long-standing project of destabilization—rooted in repeated speeches, coordinated networks, and strategic silences. The attempted coup, led by radical supporters of Jair Bolsonaro, targeted the buildings at Brasília’s Praça dos Três Poderes (Three Powers Plaza)—but its true symbolic aim was the very legitimacy of Brazil’s democratic regime. The physical destruction of government property was the final act of a narrative designed to empty democratic institutions of meaning, to stage the rupture as popular will, and to test the limits of political impunity in broad daylight, in a deliberate bid to plunge the country into chaos.

The permissiveness of digital platforms created fertile ground for political radicalization and institutional decay. In the absence of a legal framework to keep pace with the velocity of algorithmic transformation, social media platforms evolved into privatized arenas of political struggle—where engagement metrics increasingly overshadowed democratic norms. The operational logic of these platforms—driven by the reward of emotionally extreme content—not only fueled the spread of falsehoods but also empowered far-right populist leaders who learned to game the system. Campaigns of defamation, distortion, and fabricated realities became normalized under the guise of free speech—a term frequently weaponized by Big Tech firms as a political shield.

Within this context, the tension between freedom of expression and platform accountability deepened: while claiming neutrality, tech companies acted ambiguously, adopting reactive and often inadequate measures against systematic disinformation. Amid an inert legislature, Brazil’s judiciary—particularly the Supreme Federal Court (STF) and the Superior Electoral Court (TSE)—stepped in with emergency measures to impose limits on platform abuse, frequently becoming targets themselves of censorship accusations from tech moguls.

While Brazil’s legislative vacuum persisted—soon to be shaped by intensified lobbying from Big Tech—it was the judiciary that emerged as the primary institutional actor acting swiftly in defense of democracy. Alongside it, the Superior Electoral Court took on the role of not only ensuring a secure and credible election process but also proactively debunking fake news and combating disinformation on social networks. Although limited in mandate, both institutions became central to imposing boundaries on the ambiguous conduct of digital platforms in the absence of robust regulation.

It was in this climate that the Supreme Federal Court, under Justice Alexandre de Moraes, issued orders for Elon Musk’s platform (X, formerly Twitter) to block accounts accused of spreading disinformation and hate speech—particularly in the wake of the January 8th insurrection. This triggered a public and legal standoff between the minister and Musk, who, after refusing to comply with Brazilian court orders, was added as a subject in an ongoing investigation into digital militias.

Invoking an ideologically loaded interpretation of absolute free speech, Musk positioned himself above Brazilian law and sovereignty—much as he had previously done elsewhere. In 2020, for instance, he declared, “We’ll coup whoever we want,” in reference to Bolivia. His wealth and influence, expressed both through his platform and his billions in assets, were weaponized against Brazil’s constitutional stability. Framing Justice Moraes as authoritarian and himself as a victim of censorship, Musk aligned his narrative with that of Bolsonaro and his followers—reviving the same false image of persecuted “little old ladies” wielding nothing but flags and Bibles.

Connection: the future at stake

The 2024 reelection of Donald Trump as President of the United States marked a turning point in the relationship between Big Tech and political power. Isolated in Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro did not hide his enthusiasm. In public statements, he described the growing alignment between tech giants and the Trump administration as “excellent.” His praise was not without reason: what emerged was a strategic repositioning of digital platforms now more openly attuned to the interests of the global far right. The supposed commitment to freedom of expression began to serve as a rhetorical facade, masking a rollback of content moderation policies and the dismantling of fact-checking initiatives—steps taken by companies like Meta in early 2025, justified by alleged resistance to “secret courts” in Latin America.

This repositioning reveals not only a reconfiguration of the global digital ecosystem but also a new geopolitical arrangement between corporate interests and authoritarian political projects. Elon Musk, the owner of X, was among the first to publicly support Trump’s campaign and was later appointed to head the newly created Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—a controversial advisory entity whose vague mandate and opaque operations have drawn legal scrutiny, particularly after reports that its members accessed classified material without proper clearance. Meta founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg, meanwhile, reversed earlier policy decisions, dismantled efforts to counter disinformation, and explicitly signaled resistance to foreign governments attempting to regulate his platforms. What is at stake here is not freedom of expression per se, but rather its ideological weaponization to protect economic expansion and evade accountability. This model of transnational algorithmic governance no longer answers to state sovereignty—it aligns with those who offer less oversight and more corporate impunity. For democracies in the Global South, resisting this toxic fusion of billionaire capital, disinformation, and deregulation has become a matter of survival.

In Brazil, the effects of this corporate-realpolitik alignment appeared even before Trump returned to the White House. In 2023, during debate over Bill 2630 — which aimed to increase platform accountability — Google used its homepage, the country’s most visited web page, to post an editorial warning that the law would “make the internet worse.” Disguised as public service, this campaign was in fact a calculated attempt to mobilize public opinion against any regulatory advances. It exemplified how the language of free speech is deployed to defend commercial interests while exposing the regulatory asymmetry between sovereign states and transnational corporations.

As scholars Deivison Faustino and Walter Lippold argue, such dynamics constitute a form of digital colonialism: Global South countries are subjected to new modes of domination based on data extraction, informational control, and the imposition of external operational norms. The assault on Brazilian digital sovereignty is not merely a technical lobbying effort—it is part of a broader strategy to consolidate algorithmic zones of exception where democratic limits are bypassed or erased. In response, the central challenge lies in envisioning regulatory frameworks that resist both corporate capture and state authoritarianism—reclaiming the possibility of a democratic, public, and international governance of digital infrastructures.

The indictment of Jair Bolsonaro for attempting a coup d’état marks, symbolically, an institutional effort to reestablish democratic boundaries that had been steadily eroded in recent years. Though late, his prosecution signals a public assertion that attacks on constitutional order will not be normalized. Yet the effectiveness of this response remains uncertain—especially within a global context in which democratic institutions are being tested by political elites operating in sync with billionaire tech magnates, empowered by platforms that wield unchecked influence.

The Brazilian case starkly illustrates how the erosion of public trust, the industrialization of disinformation, and the capture of institutions by private interests can create the conditions for rupture. But it also shows the potential—however fragile and incomplete—for institutional pushback. The question that remains is whether democratic, legal, and regulatory mechanisms will be capable of containing not only the domestic actors who drive authoritarian agendas, but also the transnational forces that profit from their rise. What is at stake is not only a recent past of democratic decline, but the very future of sovereignty in the algorithmic age.