This paper was researched and developed for the ‘#NoFilter Lecture Series’ and delivered by the author at the Zeppelin University on March 4. The series also featured lectures by Armen Avanessian, Cécile Malaspina & Hito Steyrl among others.
The series of lectures explores how the #nofilter mindset, emphasizing unfiltered immediacy and authenticity, permeates various spheres such as social media, literature, and politics and thus relates to the emerging political populism around the world. At the same time, it highlights the paradox that staging and performance are often required to produce the sense of “unmediated” realness.
Populism has re-emerged as a significant force shaping our world.
Although Donald Trump’s election and his treatment of constitutional America as an ancien régime have understandably brought political populism to the forefront, it is crucial to recognize that its rise has been both enabled and amplified by the global expansion of social media platforms, their monetization strategies, and the emergence of digital content creators and influencers worldwide.
The signs of this shift have been everywhere. Trump, a public figure who transitioned from legacy media to new platforms like Twitter and Facebook/Instagram during his initial presidential campaign in 2016, embodies this transformation and serves as its quintessential example.
It’s not merely the economic incentives offered by social media platforms that fuel populism. Rather, its broader rise is tied to the masses’ newfound capacity to shape public discourse across art, culture, and society—and, in the process, profit from it as well. As populism spreads horizontally around the globe and vertically through diverse fields of human activity, we can begin to map and analyze its intricate and intertwined structure.
We already understand the mechanism driving populism: a self-reinforcing cycle in which actors are incentivized to simplify complexities and position themselves against existing power structures. Whether in art, culture, or politics—and whether embodied by Donald Trump, Joe Rogan, or Taylor Swift—the mechanism remains consistent. But can we accept this apparent dynamic as the complete structure of populism, or is there more here than meets the eye?
Let’s clarify this point from the outset. Even the dying movement commonly labeled as “wokism” despite self-identifying as the continuation of emancipatory progress in the West, fundamentally represents yet another manifestation of populism—albeit one emerging from a different political orientation and methodology. It is not far-fetched to suggest that woke culture originates from the appropriation of specific academic concepts by liberal and centrist political and media entities in the West, aiming to popularize certain forms of political, ethical, and cultural correctness. This movement sought to democratize complex theories derived from the humanities and social sciences, converting them into accessible rallying points. Like other populist movements, it explicitly positioned itself against established power structures—in this particular case, traditional cultural hierarchies and normative frameworks. “Wokism” gained momentum primarily through social media platforms, which enabled simplified interpretations of nuanced academic theories related to race, gender, class, and colonialism to spread rapidly and mobilize public sentiment effectively. The bottom line is clear: populism transcends conventional political categories, revealing instead a common structural pattern. It consistently claims to represent marginalized voices in opposition to established institutions, regardless of the specific ideological content it promotes.
If the rise of populism can be likened to the construction of a new pyramid of power, then three essential elements underpin its structure: economic infrastructure, charismatic leadership, and historical precedent. For populism to sustain itself and flourish, it must rely on these foundational pillars: control over critical infrastructure and media platforms, the appeal of charismatic leaders, and either the invocation of a compelling historical moment or the ability to conjure a clear utopian vision that captures the public imagination.
Trump’s rise, fall, and subsequent resurgence demonstrate the remarkable elasticity of digital infrastructures when wielded by individuals who possess substantial cultural or political capital. After being forcibly removed from major social media platforms in 2020—effectively excluded from the mainstream digital sphere—Trump managed to re-enter the public conversation. He created alternative channels of visibility, most notably through his own digital platform. This comeback was enabled largely by his unapologetic reliance on exaggerations and falsehoods; by steadfastly amplifying these claims, he energized a fiercely loyal base. With their unwavering support, he secured the resources needed to establish new means of communication. He ultimately exerted enough influence to pressure political institutions—including even the Supreme Court—to reconsider and eventually re-legitimize him within the broader political landscape.
Trump’s exceptional trajectory thus underscores both the strength and the vulnerability of Big Tech’s filtering mechanisms. On the one hand, these platforms possess enough power to exclude even highly prominent public figures; on the other, the sheer momentum generated by a massive, loyal following can lead to the creation of parallel infrastructures, bypassing existing controls or compelling them to make accommodations. This duality serves as both a cautionary tale and a source of optimism: it reveals that Big Tech’s dominance, though substantial, is not absolute or invulnerable. Yet, it also highlights a deeper, unsettling reality—that only individuals with substantial financial resources and preexisting mass influence have the capacity to meaningfully challenge or renegotiate the conditions of platform capitalism.
A similar logic underlies Elon Musk’s approach to governmental institutions and infrastructure. By characterizing bureaucracy, career politicians, and institutional checks and balances as wasteful “filters” that hinder efficiency, Musk advocates a vision of governance stripped of these mediating structures. Within this narrative, the “Doge” phenomenon—playfully championed as a currency of the people—functions as a symbolic call for streamlined, no-frills capitalism that rejects established mechanisms designed to regulate corporate power. Under Musk’s influence, eliminating government agencies and scaling back oversight become synonymous with removing unnecessary barriers, thus paving the way for direct governance by businessmen. Yet this populist fantasy of frictionless administration conveniently overlooks the critical purpose these so-called “filters” serve: protecting society against political and economic abuses. By positioning institutional processes as obstacles, capital effectively reasserts its dominance, promoting a vision of unchecked power that inherently privileges those wealthy enough to disregard any constraints on their ambitions.
At the core of populist movements is often a charismatic leader whose personal appeal and rhetorical skill allow them to capture the popular imagination. Figures such as Donald Trump in the United States or Elon Musk within corporate and political circles exemplify how individual magnetism can mobilize large groups of people and shape public discourse.
Moreover, charismatic leaders within populist movements skillfully exploit digital platform algorithms to amplify their influence and bypass traditional gatekeepers like mainstream media and political institutions. Their rhetorical power lies in crafting a sense of direct connection with their audience, positioning themselves as genuine representatives of “the people,” opposed to institutional corruption or ineffectiveness. This ability to foster deep emotional and psychological bonds with supporters reinforces their image as savior figures uniquely equipped to guide society toward either an idealized past or an envisioned future.
Ultimately, charismatic populist leaders embody the inherent tension within contemporary digital infrastructures: although they initially rely on established platforms to gain prominence, their true power emerges once they successfully create alternative networks or compel existing infrastructures to accommodate their agendas. Yet, this dynamic reveals an underlying paradox. Only individuals already equipped with substantial financial resources or significant cultural capital can effectively challenge or reshape these digital platforms, thereby exposing the limits of populism’s promises of equal empowerment and authentic representation.
Populist movements frequently rely on invoking an idealized historical “golden era,” portrayed as a period of societal stability, prosperity, or cultural unity. This narrative is visible across diverse geopolitical contexts and often involves selectively reinterpreting history to serve contemporary political goals. In the United States, for example, Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again” slogan explicitly points toward an imagined past marked by national strength, economic success, and social cohesion, typically associated with post-World War II America. This idealized historical vision provides a compelling rallying point, enabling populist leaders to depict current challenges as deviations from a previously established, desirable norm.
In Latin America, similar dynamics have already played out repeatedly. Brazilian populism under Lula, and later Dilma Rousseff, drew upon nostalgic memories of earlier periods of socio-economic reform and leftist governance. Lula’s initial rise, celebrated as a progressive victory, reflected a widespread yearning for expansive social programs and economic inclusivity reminiscent of previous leftist initiatives. When subsequent administrations failed to sustain or deliver this vision, populism shifted rightward, re-emphasizing national strength and economic prosperity through more explicitly conservative narratives. In Mexico, Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO) similarly employed populist rhetoric by invoking a historical struggle against corruption and elite dominance, framing his administration as a return to an allegedly simpler and fairer political past of the Mexican Revolution of Zapata and Pancho Villa.
The invocation of historical nostalgia is not confined to the Western hemisphere. Xi Jinping’s populist strategy in China similarly hinges upon glorifying revolutionary heritage and remembering past national unity and strength, vividly symbolized through carefully controlled narratives of China’s revolutionary and socialist history. Xi positions himself not simply as a political leader but as a living embodiment of China’s historical trajectory toward global prominence and internal coherence, selectively interpreting history to legitimize current policies.
In each instance, the historical moment populists claim to restore prioritizes emotional resonance over historical accuracy. Populist leaders strategically exploit collective memories by selectively curating historical narratives to reinforce their legitimacy. However, this idealization often obscures the complexities, inequalities, and injustices characteristic of these periods. Thus, populism’s promise of restoration is inherently rhetorical and symbolic—powerful in unifying and motivating populations, yet ultimately incapable of authentically replicating the nuanced realities of past eras.
Broadly speaking, populism’s invocation of historical struggle arises from nation-specific conditions. In Latin America, past authoritarian right-wing regimes, such as military juntas in Brazil and Argentina, left political openings for left-wing populists championing workers and peasants behind charismatic leaders. In Europe, populism has historically been aligned with authoritarian and xenophobic fascism, notably in Portugal, Spain, and other nations. Conversely, the United States saw Donald Trump’s populism rooted in ideological divisions dating back to white supremacy and the civil war.
Across these diverse settings, each ascendant leader wields the claim of authenticity, all while tacitly courting and reassuring the infrastructural powers—be they military elites, corporate financiers, or party apparatchiks—that underwrite their authority. Essentially, populist movements can be understood as outcomes of unresolved power struggles: after one faction gains institutional dominance, the disenfranchised popular energies are harnessed by an influencer-like figure who presents an alternative vision of unmediated truth—yet remains heavily dependent on the hidden mechanisms and gatekeepers of societal control.
A similar dynamic unfolds in Iran and several Muslim-majority nations, where government mandates block access to specific sites and social media platforms in the name of preserving political, cultural or religious norms. Yet this state-imposed censorship is overshadowed with a clandestine market for circumvention tools—VPNs, proxy services, and various “filterbreaking” apps. Ironically, these very tools are often created or distributed by government-linked agencies themselves, allowing the same authorities who outwardly ban content to monitor web activity and financially profit from citizens’ attempts to have free access to the internet. More insidiously, this shadow market enables state actors to collect data on users’ true and taboo digital desires. By controlling both the filter (official bans) and the supposed paths around it (anti-filter programs), these governments foster an illusion of authenticity for those unaware of the twisted political economy at play. This seamless blend of visible and invisible filtering produces a sense of unmediated access among younger populations, who do not realize the extent to which the state’s infrastructural power shapes what they see—and what remains hidden from view.
Now let’s look at how a debilitated and confused western left has unsuccessfully reckoned with populism.
Rather than devising a more sound and pragmatic form of populism, the left and amongst it many art and academic institutions have chosen to micromanage the tone and content of their populist messages, forgetting to at least pay a superficial nod towards free speech as populism’s alter ego. This has led to a contradiction: on one hand, they posture as defenders of the voiceless like other populists; but on the other, they obsessively vet how the voiceless ought to speak.
Never mind that focusing solely on the message sidesteps the more crucial questions, namely how their project is doomed if it doesn’t reckon with the role of infrastructural power, charismatic leaders and a clear historical precedent or a utopian future in sustaining their populism.
The left keeps obsessing about the question of “how” while ignoring the “who,” “what” and “where” of populism. Economic or philanthropic gatekeepers may sponsor diversity initiatives and inclusive exhibitions, but those efforts rarely shift the fundamental condition: Big money and Tech determines which discourses scale. The left’s curation of marginalized pain or identity-based confessions often ends up commodifying experiences, packaging them for the Woke cultural consumer market—another sub-economy that ultimately serves the same infrastructural masters. Sadly, while serving those economic interests, the platform owners gaslight the average people to identify left’s woke populism as nothing but filters applied over their freedom of expression by the economic and political elites!
In this world, the museum curator, the academic conference organizer, or even the editor at a progressive journal are overshadowed by algorithms that operate invisibly at massive scale. Traditional institutions can either adapt—by producing content that resonates with “what’s trending” or risk irrelevance. Even large-scale art venues like biennales chase trending themes to ensure traction on social media, unconsciously ceding their curatorial authority to the engagement metrics set by Silicon Valley. Those with the savvy to harness this dynamic—political strongmen, attention-hungry celebrities, “unfiltered” artfluencers—seize disproportionate influence. But their brand of authenticity is nonetheless shaped by the ad-driven infrastructures that decide how widely messages can circulate.
Meanwhile, institutions that once considered themselves gatekeepers of taste, reason, and justice have become reactionary clients of these new overlords of data. The left’s implementation of “better and more effective gatekeeping” has already missed the point: as unavoidable as filters are, to be effective they ought to be transparent and invisible. Insisting on applying the correct filters can only backfire, resulting in a change of filters in the name of authenticity. This is why celebrating the twice unsuccessful assassination of Trump did nothing but enable the right to not only develop conspiracy theories about the true assassins but cemented Trump as a genuine hero in the mind of Americans, helping him to secure his landslide electoral victory. The other question that the left ignores is who truly owns the invisible and ever powerful filtering systems and why.
The biggest obstacle for the emergence of emancipatory populism is the western left’s reliance on state and media infrastructures—chief among them digital platforms—whose filtering mechanisms ultimately shape all content while simultaneously profiting from its polarizing effects. Specifically, by ignoring the infrastructural power of Big Tech and its profit-driven amplification systems, the western institutional left and the art world mistake their highly curated illusions of democracy and populism for genuine representation of popular will. It’s true that the popularization of Wokism in politics, art and culture was nothing but the leftist’s intention at popularizing high concepts taken from the arts and humanities academia, but the sad fact remains that this attempt was botched from the get-go since it always seemed to have been imposed from the top to bottom and not stemming from the grass roots. It also didn’t help that the whole concept and its practice was more likely supported by young and educated people, including only a small minority of older and less educated ones. Never mind that woke populism never resolved the contradiction between the content of its claims versus the institutional and technological infrastructures through which it attempted to reach a broader audience without really offering authentic and charismatic leadership.
At this point, the only path forward would be to approach populism head on. While contesting the private ownership of digital platforms and challenging monetization models that turn discourse into data-harvesting gold mines, we ought to imagine how better, more democratic and emancipatory forms of populism can emerge or be supported in different historical contexts. Without addressing the twisted structure of populism, resisting the emerging world will remain a convenient myth in the west—one that can no longer mask the irreversible failures of leftist woke populism determining the civilizational path forward for the world.
In conclusion, the twisted structure of populism presents a formidable challenge for democratic societies worldwide. Cultural and political power in this new era cannot be secured through better institutional or rhetorical filters alone. The evidence from across the globe suggests that neither high theory nor woke populism can save the political left and the art world as they continue to lose ground to populists and influencers. These successful populist figures have mastered the essential formula: projecting charismatic authenticity to mass audiences while strategically collaborating with private infrastructural gatekeepers—whether in finance, technology, or even illicit power networks. Until progressive forces reckon with all three aspects of populism—infrastructure control, charismatic leadership, and compelling historical narratives—they will remain at a structural disadvantage in the global contest for hearts and minds. The future belongs not to those with the most sophisticated ideas, but to those who can harness populism’s twisted structure while advancing genuinely emancipatory aims.