History Could Teach Us a Lot About Today’s Algorithms

Ancient priests had incense. Sophists had rhetoric. Today, we have algorithms—faster, subtler, and everywhere.

The war on human attention can be traced back many millennia. In the 5th Century BC, the Greek Sophists were masters of persuasion who battled for citizens’ attention in public squares, teaching techniques to sway opinion regardless of truth. Plato often criticized them.

\ Even earlier, the Egyptians built vast temples, filled them with incense and chants, and staged ceremonies designed to captivate the senses and keep worshippers focused on priestly authority.

\ What these ancient examples show is not that priests and Sophists were identical to our social media influencers, but that attention has always been a scarce resource — and power has accrued to those who know how to command it.

\ Today, however, the scale and precision of attention control have changed. Ancient rulers had incense and oratory. We have personalized feeds. Instead of a priest telling me what is happening, I see things unfold in real time on my phone: the drama, the sexuality, the hidden motives. Every account competes for likes and shares, but none of that happens unless they can hold my gaze. Like an Egyptian priest, modern platforms use visual ceremony and ritual — but delivered through algorithmic design rather than smoke and chants.

\ Most of us experience this only as the urge to post what will please our followers. But at the platform level, incentives are different. The “rules of the game” — what spreads, what sinks, what captures the collective imagination — are shaped by algorithms written and adjusted by the companies that run them. And there is evidence these rules are not neutral:

• Facebook’s internal research showed that promoting “meaningful social interactions” ended up amplifying outrage and political division.
• TikTok employees have acknowledged using a “heating” button to boost certain content into virality.
• The Twitter Files revealed behind-the-scenes interventions in visibility for accounts across the political spectrum.

\ In earlier eras, governments and churches openly defined the boundaries of thought. Today, it is technology companies — often steered by powerful individuals — who occupy that role. When Elon Musk’s personal tweets appear at the top of users’ feeds, or when Mark Zuckerberg decides what kind of engagement Facebook will prioritize, we are watching power shape attention directly.

\ This is not a conspiracy. It is the natural continuation of a dynamic as old as civilization: whoever can best capture and direct attention gains an advantage in shaping society. What’s new is the technology — the scale, speed, and invisibility of the mechanisms at work.

Where This Could Lead

If this incentive structure — to capture and direct attention at scale — is as old as civilization, then what happens when it’s supercharged by AI-driven personalization, real-time data, and global platforms?

\ Could we see leaders not just winning elections but building vast “attention armies” online, able to mobilize millions without the costs of traditional campaigning or product creation? Could entire populations be nudged toward certain narratives, beliefs, or actions not through overt propaganda but through the subtle shaping of feeds?

\ Might the next phase of power-seeking no longer be about seizing territory or writing laws, but about designing the invisible architectures that determine what we see, feel, and discuss? And if so, what checks — if any — will exist on those who build them?

\ These are open questions, but history suggests that where control over attention becomes possible, it will be pursued. The only question is by whom, and to what end.

\ If this resonated, share it or reply with a historical example I missed.