Why We Need A Strategic Global Boycott Against US Authoritarian Rule

How we can fight Big Tech's support for Trump, and stand in solidarity across borders.

Apr 29, 2025

Dear friends,

Most of you reading this are in the United States. And while this piece was written out of deep care for you, it is not primarily written to you. It’s primarily for your friends overseas. Your family abroad. The people you care about beyond your borders—and the people who care about you from theirs. You need to pass this to them.

It’s also for those watching from elsewhere in the world—those who see what’s unfolding in the US and want to help, but aren’t sure how. We may feel powerless to intervene, unsure what difference we can make from across an ocean or a border. But our voices, our choices, and our pressure still matter. Especially now.

I’ve been thinking a lot about solidarity, lately. Not just the word, but the history. The kind that doesn’t just mean sympathy from a distance—but action. Sacrifice. Standing up, even when the fight isn’t on your doorstep.

And I was reminded of a Polish word on a bumper sticker I treasured, when I was just 17.

Solidarność.

In the 1980s, a workers’ movement in Poland called Solidarność — Solidarity — helped bring down a dictatorship. It wasn’t armed and it wasn’t glamorous. It was a union. A boycott. A mass refusal to let things carry on as they were. Millions of people stopped cooperating with a system they knew was broken. And slowly, that system lost its grip.

I’ve still got that bumper sticker, because Solidarność means something to me. It stands for the power of ordinary people to resist authoritarian rule. It means showing up for someone else's fight. It means I see you, and I'm with you, even from across a border.

Now, I find myself asking: “What can we do today, as citizens of other countries, to show our solidarity with our friends and family in the United States — those caught in the grip of a second Trump term, backed this time not just by politics, but by the full weight of the tech oligarchy? What can we do from here — how can we help?”

Last week, I read about how the once-apolitical White House Easter Egg Roll had corporate sponsors for the first time — despite the fact that it clearly violates the Code of Federal Regulations, which prohibits federal employees from endorsing any product, service, or enterprise. And yet there was the President himself, front and centre, effectively endorsing the event’s primary backers: Meta, Amazon, and YouTube.

It’s not the first time he’s done it. Just a few weeks ago, he turned the White House lawn into a makeshift Tesla showroom.

I can’t explain why, exactly, but something in these acts broke through. It felt like I'd reached a tipping point. And now it’s time to push back.

Here's why.

Big Tech’s Hidden Agenda

We used to believe that social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter were there to make it easier to share our lives, find community and amplify unheard voices. That Google wanted to democratise knowledge. That Amazon was just going to make everyday life easier — bringing the world to our doorstep with a click. Reinforced by the absence of a price tag, the design of the services, and how they presented themselves in public life, we thought these platforms were free — gifts of the digital age, built for the benefit of all.

Now we know better.

Now we know that their goal is to capture as much of our time, attention, and behaviour as possible, and turn it into profit — regardless of the cost to the consumer, or the environment.

"Surveillance capitalism" is the business model that has come to underpin the tech sector. The term, coined by scholar Shoshana Zuboff, describes a new economic logic where your online behaviour — what you search, click, say, and buy — is extracted, repackaged, and used to predict what you’re likely to buy, then sold to advertisers, data brokers, and anyone else willing to pay. Not just the data you knowingly hand over, but what Zuboff calls "behavioural surplus" — the data you didn’t realise you were giving, extracted and repurposed without your awareness.

All the thoughts and sentiments you share on Facebook, the people you connect with, the reels you like on Insta and TikTok, the channels you subscribe to and comments you make on YouTube, every word you search on Google, every location that's tracked on Maps, and everything you buy from Amazon or any other retailer — it's all being used to build a profile of you.

And the model for surveillance capitalism is no longer limited to your personal online behaviour. It’s expanded and reinforced by data collected through the institutions that shape daily life.

Alphabet, Google’s parent company, now provides infrastructure for schools, hospitals, and city governments. If your child uses a classroom Chromebook, or your local authority runs on Google Cloud, your — and your child's — data on those platforms becomes part of the broader data ecosystem.

But the most chilling thing is that surveillance capitalism doesn’t just watch us. It builds something weaponisable: a "digital reputation" for each and every one of us.

Your digital reputation is the profile constructed about you from all of this information. It's not just a record — some benign 'digital diary'. It’s an attempt to strip you bare. Every click, every hesitation, every message, every movement is captured —not simply to record what you’ve done, but to understand who you are.

These systems dig for your deepest drives: what you want, what you fear, what makes you act. They map your loyalties, your griefs, your desires, your weaknesses. The goal is no longer simply to sell to you. It’s to predict you. To control what you see, what choices you are given, what freedoms you are allowed — and what punishments you might face.

Piece by piece, they are turning your private self into a weapon that can be used against you — without your knowledge, without your consent, and without a moment’s warning. And it doesn’t matter whether the conclusions drawn about you are fair, accurate, or contestable. They are operated invisibly, locking us all into reputational cages we cannot see, predict, or escape.

Researchers, rights advocates, and even some regulators now warn that in the US, digital reputation systems are already reshaping everything from insurance pricing to job offers to law enforcement practices. And the systems are rapidly expanding —deciding who gets access to healthcare, housing, credit, education, and public services, and who gets quietly denied.

This isn’t just about privacy. It’s about power. About who gets to fully participate in society — and who doesn’t.

But the danger doesn’t end there.

Amazon Web Services forms the backbone of much of the internet, powering everything from public health systems to law enforcement, intelligence agencies, surveillance systems, and border enforcement. The company has signed contracts with agencies like ICE in the United States, where its technology is used in the administration of detention, deportation, and drone surveillance.

The machine-generated forecast of your future, is shaped by who you know, where you live, what you like, and what you search. If the system decides you look like someone who might cause trouble — based on patterns you can neither see nor contest — you can be treated as guilty before you’ve done anything at all.

This is not a scene from Tom Cruise's "Minority Report". It's happening now, in the US, where under U.S. immigration law, people are already being deported on “reasonable grounds” that they might harm foreign policy.

No crime. No trial. Just a prediction. And there’s no democratic oversight. Just contracts, drawn up behind closed doors.

Imagine what could happen under a government determined to crush dissent.

These companies are embedded in the systems that register our birth, our schooling, our healthcare, our legal status — assembling a profile that begins at birth and only deepens over time.

The result for the companies has been unprecedented wealth, with the majority shareholders of Alphabet, Amazon, Meta, and other tech giants profiting enormously from this model.

Their personal fortunes are built on your data. The more extensive your profile, the more precise the predictions. The more precise the predictions, the higher their profits.

And those profits haven’t been evenly shared. They’ve flowed upward, consolidating power in the hands of a small group of men.

As of March 2025, Elon Musk — CEO of Tesla and majority owner of X (formerly Twitter) and Starlink — has an estimated net worth of $330 billion. Jeff Bezos, Amazon’s founder and former CEO, stands at $209 billion. Mark Zuckerberg, who retains control over Meta (Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp), is worth around $214 billion. Alphabet’s co-founders, Larry Page and Sergey Brin, each hold wealth in the region of $175 billion.

To give you some perspective, before the Russian invasion, Ukraine’s entire nominal GDP was around $200 billion.

That should make us pause for thought.

We have been taught to celebrate billionaires as symbols of innovation and success. But when personal wealth surpasses the economic output of nation states, something very troubling is happening. It means individuals can shape societies, economies, and global norms without democratic oversight, and without public consent. And these particular individuals have built the infrastructure to do it.

These men are not just shareholders. They are kingmakers, whose platforms now shape everything in public life from elections to regulation to global information flows.

And Trump is their king.

Mark Zuckenberg and wife Priscilla Chan, Jeff Bezos and partner Lauren Sanchez, Google CEO Sundar Pichai, and Elon Musk at Trump’s Inauguration, Jan. ‘25

There's a reason for this.

The US has no comprehensive data protection law at the federal level. Instead, it's a patchwork of sector-specific rules and a few state laws. There is no clear requirement for meaningful consent. No outright ban on selling personal data. No structural limit on what can be collected, combined, and used. For the tech companies that built their fortunes on unregulated extraction, this lack of oversight forms the backbone of their business model.

The EU treats privacy as a fundamental right. That hasn’t ended surveillance capitalism, but it has introduced friction—rules that slow extraction, limit targeting, and require at least some degree of transparency.

The tech companies hate it. Alphabet has lobbied Trump officials to pressure EU regulators over competition rulings. Amazon has pushed the US to retaliate against European digital taxes. Meta has tried to paint EU enforcement as anti-American trade warfare. Apple, too, has sought diplomatic support to fend off antitrust challenges tied to its App Store.

Elon Musk is part of this too, having used his influence with Trump to fight back against EU digital regulations aimed at X and Starlink. He’s framed the EU’s laws as censorship and trade barriers, lobbied the White House to intervene, and used his platform to amplify far-right parties in Europe that oppose regulation altogether.

These companies — these men — have spent years trying to weaken or bypass data protections in other countries, lobbying, litigating, and quietly leaning on US foreign policy to do the rest. And now, with Trump back in the White House, they have a willing partner.

Post-Brexit, the UK is now a soft target. The government has made clear it wants to “simplify” data protection laws, cutting so-called red tape to make things easier for business. If approved, The Data (Use and Access) Bill (DUAB) will make it easier to share personal data with third countries—including the US—and give ministers broad powers to mandate data access. It’s a gift to Big Tech. And a threat to civil liberties.

And while I’ve focused on the EU and UK here, that’s only because I follow these regions closely. The truth is, this isn’t just about Europe or America. These companies want global dominion and they don’t want regulation anywhere. They have urged Trump to defend them against all foreign regulators, asking for diplomatic support to fight fines, taxes, and antitrust rulings overseas.

They want unfiltered access to the data of every individual on the planet. And they’re willing to work hand in hand with authoritarian leaders to get it.

This isn’t just a domestic policy debate — it’s a global contest over who controls the infrastructure of our very lives.

Us. Or them.

Access to healthcare, education, housing, credit, and basic rights will become contingent on opaque scores we can neither examine nor challenge. Opportunities will be offered or withheld based not on who we are, but on what the system predicts we might become.

If Trump wins out, so do his Big Tech backers. And if they win, we all lose.

So if you’re outside the US and you think this is someone else’s fight — think again. The same companies funding or enabling Trump’s return are embedded in governments, infrastructure, and everyday life well beyond the US. And it’s time we stop pretending they’re neutral.

This system depends on global compliance. On international passivity. On the assumption that those of us watching from a distance will stay quiet while the rules are dismantled.

It's time for us to let them know what we think about this.

This is a call for a strategic boycott — the kind that will hurt them more than it hurts us. We need to respond not just as consumers, but as citizens. Not just to protect ourselves, but to push back against a global consolidation of power that’s already undermining the rights of people across borders.

History shows us that individual choices, when made collectively and strategically, can shape the world. Think of the #StopHateForProfit campaign against Facebook (now Meta) in 2020. After Facebook failed to moderate hate speech properly, a coalition of civil rights groups called on major advertisers to pause their spending. Huge brands like Coca-Cola, Unilever and Starbucks joined in. And it cost the company billions in market value almost overnight.

Look at Tesla. After just three months of impromptu global boycotts, Tesla's stock has declined 44% from its 2024 peak, with a 71% drop in net income — and a 13% drop in vehicle deliveries — in Q1 2025, their worst quarter since 2022.

We’re also seeing this kind of resistance unfold in real time in Canada, where the boycott of American goods and services has become a national stance. Analysts at Goldman Sachs predict the cost to the US economy will be $83 billion this year.

That’s not just a symbolic gesture. It’s leverage. When we choose to move our money, our attention, our time, we’re not just changing our personal habits — we’re shifting the cultural and economic ground beneath these companies. We’re showing that their power depends, at least in part, on our participation.

The Tesla and Canadian boycotts show us what pressure looks like, and it is only the beginning. If we hold the line — if we expand it — Amazon, Meta, and Alphabet will feel it too. When you see their stock prices start to fall, know this: it’s working. Don’t let up. Double down.

And remember: social media giants have fallen before. Business models that once seemed indestructible have collapsed under the weight of public resistance. It only takes a critical mass of people deciding they’ve had enough.

Our wins won’t happen overnight. But they begin with us choosing, again and again, to withhold our participation. And today, we aren’t starting from nothing as we have in the past. We’re more connected, more aware, and more capable of coordinated action than ever before. If we act together — and stay steady — we can achieve far more in far less time.

Here’s how we do it:

We stop feeding the system

When I say "Stop feeding the system," I don’t necessarily mean "Close all these online accounts!" For many people, that just isn’t an option. You might run a business that relies on Instagram to stay visible. You might have family scattered across continents, and WhatsApp is how you stay close. You might rely on Amazon for daily essentials, or live somewhere Starlink is your only stable connection to work, school, or the outside world. These platforms have made themselves indispensable by design.

This isn’t about withdrawing from every platform overnight. It isn’t about cutting every tie. It’s about acting strategically —stepping back, thinking carefully, and making deliberate choices about where we put our time, our money, and our data. It’s about refusing to feed a system that profits from our lives without accountability. Wherever we can, however we can, we start there.

So if stepping away isn’t possible right now, that’s not a failure. It’s a starting point. The goal is to become intentional about how we engage. Even within systems we still use, we can choose to withhold what they’re counting on us to give: our data.

Let's stop making unconscious choices that generate profit for people who see us only as a data point — as a means to make more money. Every scroll, every click, every search, every purchase is a transaction. It’s fuel for a machine that runs on our behaviour. The less we give it, the less power it has.

This is where we start.

Amazon

Amazon isn’t just an online shop. It’s an empire built on logistics, surveillance, and data extraction. Every search you run, every product you click, every order you place trains Amazon’s recommendation engines and advertising algorithms. Every Alexa command, Kindle download, grocery order, and Ring doorbell scan feeds into the same system: a sprawling profile of your habits, preferences, movements, and even your home environment.

If you read on a Kindle, Amazon logs which books you open, which pages you linger on, which passages you highlight, and when you stop reading. Every highlight, every pause, every annotation builds a deeper psychological map — not just of what you buy, but of what moves you, confuses you, angers you, or inspires you.

And if you pay for Prime or buy Kindle books, you’re not just feeding Amazon data —you’re feeding it money. Directly. Predictably. Recurring subscriptions and digital purchases are a major part of Amazon’s profit model, locking users into convenience ecosystems that make it harder to leave.

Amazon’s power doesn’t come just from what you buy. It comes from what it learns while you browse, hesitate, search, read, and live. And like other tech giants, it has expanded far beyond consumers. Through Amazon Web Services (AWS), it provides the cloud infrastructure behind police departments, immigration enforcement, health systems, and much of the surveillance architecture of modern states.

We don’t have to cut Amazon out completely to start disrupting its model. But if we want to weaken its grip, we need to treat every interaction with Amazon — whether shopping, streaming, speaking, or reading — as a data transaction.

Rethink Prime. If you can, cancel your Prime membership. It’s one of Amazon’s most reliable revenue streams, designed to keep you locked into a cycle of convenience and dependency. If cancelling isn’t possible yet, start treating Prime like a cost, not a reason to take advantage of it. Order less. Batch purchases. Set stricter boundaries around what you actually need.

Cancel “Subscribe and Save”. Amazon’s subscription services — like "Subscribe and Save" for household goods — create a predictable flow of revenue and data. They also lock you into patterns of spending you might no longer want to support. Cancel them where you can, and explore local suppliers or alternatives that don't feed the Amazon ecosystem.

Buy elsewhere. Every order you place strengthens Amazon’s market dominance. Shift purchases to local businesses, independent retailers, or direct-to-seller websites whenever you can. Even small shifts matter — Amazon counts on habitual, frictionless purchasing.

Limit Kindle usage. Kindle books seem harmless, but every download, every highlight, every abandoned page feeds Amazon’s behavioural profiling. If you can, buy physical books from independent stores or libraries. If you must use Kindle, disable annotations, clear your reading history, and strip unnecessary device permissions.

Cut Alexa out of your home. Alexa isn’t just a voice assistant. It’s a data collection device. It records voice commands, builds behavioural profiles, and maps patterns of activity inside private spaces. If you have one, unplug it when not in use — or consider phasing it out altogether.

Control your browsing. Clear your Amazon browsing history regularly. Log out when not making purchases. Use privacy browsers or extensions to limit passive tracking across the web. The less Amazon can observe, the less it can predict.

Disrupt the narrative. Amazon counts on being seen as indispensable. Challenge that myth. Talk openly about how much they know, how deeply they are embedded in public systems, and what alternatives exist. Every shift away from Amazon’s ecosystem is not just a personal choice — it’s a political act.

Alphabet

Alphabet means Google — yes, the search engine, but also Google Maps, Google Cloud, the Google Office Suite (Gmail, Google Docs, Google Drive, and more). But Alphabet’s reach extends even further, including YouTube, Android, and Chrome. Alphabet isn’t just a search company. It’s the backbone of much of the internet — and increasingly, the systems we rely on offline too: our schools, our hospitals, our workplaces, our city governments.

Because Alphabet’s reach is so vast, I’m not going to try to map every corner of it here. What matters is that we find pressure points — places where we can start loosening their grip.

Use alternative search engines. Google Search is still one of Alphabet’s biggest data harvesters. Every query feeds into your behavioural profile. Switching to privacy-respecting search engines like DuckDuckGo, Startpage, or Brave Search limits what Google can collect about your interests, needs, and intentions.

Break the habit of YouTube autoplay. YouTube isn’t just entertainment. It’s a powerful tool for profiling, nudging, and steering behaviour. If you need to use it, turn off personalised recommendations and autoplay. Use alternative video platforms when you can. And whenever possible, view videos outside the app — embedded on other sites or through privacy browsers — to limit tracking.

Limit your reliance on Google Docs, Gmail, and Drive. The Google Office Suite offers convenience at a cost: the contents of your documents, emails, and stored files contribute to Google's understanding of you. Explore alternatives like ProtonMail, LibreOffice, CryptPad, or simple offline tools when privacy matters. If full migration isn’t possible yet, limit what sensitive information you keep there.

Strip Google from your browser. Chrome tracks far beyond search. Switching to browsers like Firefox, Brave, or DuckDuckGo’s app can sharply reduce passive data collection. Remove Google as your default search engine even if you stick with Chrome for now. Every search you reclaim is a dent in their model.

Log out of Alphabet services when you’re not using them. Alphabet links your activity across all its platforms — Gmail, Google Docs, YouTube, Google Maps, Chrome, and more. Staying logged in means they can continue tracking your behaviour even when you think you’ve stepped away. Log out when you’re finished. It limits passive data collection and makes it harder for them to map your movements across the web.

Use Guest Mode on Chromebooks when you can. If you're using a Chromebook, you already know you're operating inside Alphabet’s ecosystem . But that doesn't mean you’re powerless. You can reduce what’s collected by switching to Guest Mode whenever possible, which keeps browsing activity from being tied to your Google account. You can also turn off sync features, limit app permissions, block third-party cookies, and log out of Google services when you're not actively using them. These small steps won’t break the system overnight — but they start cutting the data flow. And every cut matters.

Say no to Android tracking. If you’re on Android, again Google owns your operating system. While switching to alternatives like /e/OS or GrapheneOS is ideal, that’s not feasible for most people. What you can do is minimise permissions, restrict background data collection, and deny Google services access wherever possible.

Be cautious with Google Maps. Google Maps constantly collects location data —even if you’re not actively navigating. Use alternatives like OpenStreetMap, Here WeGo, or even offline maps when you can. If you must use Google Maps, disable location history and regularly clear your timeline.

Disrupt the narrative. Alphabet’s public image is still that of a neutral, helpful innovator. Challenge that myth. Talk openly about the company’s role in surveillance capitalism, its contracts with law enforcement and border agencies, and its lobbying against digital rights around the world. Awareness spreads when enough people name what’s happening.

Musk

Musk wasn’t one of the official Easter Egg Roll sponsors, but in reality, he is Trump’s biggest sponsor — both financially and strategically. The movement to deplatform him has already begun, with protests targeting Tesla showrooms around the world. But if we want to weaken his influence, we can’t afford to lose momentum now.

Musk’s real power doesn’t come from Tesla. It comes from the communication systems he controls — Starlink and X (formerly Twitter).

Starlink now owns X. That means Musk doesn’t just control a platform. He controls both the network that carries information and a platform that shapes it. No other figure in the tech world has fused control of communications and distribution at this scale. And he’s already shown he’s willing to use that power — restricting Starlink access to influence the course of the war in Ukraine, platforming far-right voices on X, and personally intervening in political debates across borders. His goal is to influence conflicts, censor information, and shape political outcomes.

Here’s how we move forward.

Deactivate your X account if you can. X no longer allows users to fully delete their accounts — only to deactivate them. It’s a deliberate statement: your data belongs to them, not you, that even if you walk away, they will hold onto everything you’ve given them. But even so, deactivation matters. It cuts off the flow of fresh behavioural data, weakens Musk’s user metrics, and reduces the value he can extract from your presence. If you can step away, do it. Every account that goes silent makes the platform weaker.

Limit your engagement with X if you stay. If you need to monitor X for work, news, or family connections, do it without logging in whenever possible. Use privacy browsers or third-party viewers. Don’t post casually. Don’t like. Don’t boost the feed. Every click you withhold starves the system of attention — the fuel it needs to survive.

If you're using X for activism, stay strategic. For some, X is a frontline tool for organising, countering disinformation, and bearing witness. If you stay, use it consciously. Focus your activity on messaging and mobilisation. Minimise unnecessary interactions that feed the engagement algorithms — liking, boosting viral outrage, clicking on recommended posts. Treat X as a broadcast tool, not a place to linger. Make your presence deliberate, not passive.

Cut off paid support. If you’re paying for X Premium, verification, or any Musk-run subscription, cancel it. Refuse to fund a platform that has become a political weapon. The fewer people willing to pay for reach, the weaker Musk’s grip becomes.

Shift communications away from Starlink when you can. Starlink isn’t just neutral infrastructure — it’s a privately controlled network Musk has already used to intervene in war and diplomacy. If you have alternatives, use them. If you must rely on Starlink, limit what passes through the network. Encrypt your communications, use a VPN and your own router.

Disrupt the narrative. Break the illusion of neutrality. Talk about what Musk controls— and what he’s already done with that power. Challenge the story that these are just services, just platforms, just products. They are tools of influence now. The more people see that clearly, the harder it becomes for Musk to act without consequence.

This isn’t meant to be a complete solution, merely a starting point.

We need to pressure our governments to stop licensing, outsourcing, and embedding these tech giants into the heart of public infrastructure.

And there are more tech giants we will need to reckon with — Apple and Microsoft among them. Apple, despite its public stance on privacy, has quietly lobbied against regulation abroad when it serves its business interests. Through Azure and LinkedIn, Microsoft controls infrastructure and data streams that reach deep into our work, education, and public institutions. They, too, deserve our scrutiny. They, too, need to feel the pressure of a public that refuses to be treated as raw material for profit.

But first we need to build momentum, to find the cracks in the system and widen them, together. No one person can map every tactic or anticipate every opportunity. But if we start now — if we act, and share, and think together — more ideas will flow. New strategies will emerge.

The power of this movement will come from all of us. But for that to happen, this message needs to spread. It needs to reach the people who are ready to act, but don't yet know where to start. That's down to you.

If this resonates with you, pass it on to all who will support it. Talk about it. Act on it. Share it where it can be seen.

Solidarity isn’t a feeling. It’s a choice.

And this is the next stage.

—Lori