The End of Manufacturing Consent and the Rise of Algorithmic Fragmentation

When the power to influence public opinion rested with a handful of major media organizations, “manufacturing consent” was indeed a powerful framework for understanding political sentiments. However, this is no longer the case. In fact, I would argue that its continued use prevents us from identifying the real issues. Let me explain.

Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media was published in 1988 by Edward S. Herman and Noam Chomsky, but the idea originated from Walter Lippmann in his book Public Opinion (1922). So, let’s examine what Lippmann meant by “manufacture of consent” first:

“That the manufacture of consent is capable of great refinements no one, I think, denies. The process by which public opinions arise is certainly no less intricate than it has appeared in these pages, and the opportunities for manipulation open to anyone who understands the process are plain enough. ... [A]s a result of psychological research, coupled with the modern means of communication, the practice of democracy has turned a corner. A revolution is taking place, infinitely more significant than any shifting of economic power.... Under the impact of propaganda, not necessarily in the sinister meaning of the word alone, the old constants of our thinking have become variables. It is no longer possible, for example, to believe in the original dogma of democracy: that the knowledge needed for the management of human affairs comes up spontaneously from the human heart. Where we act on that theory, we expose ourselves to self-deception and to forms of persuasion that we cannot verify. It has been demonstrated that we cannot rely upon intuition, conscience, or the accidents of casual opinion if we are to deal with the world beyond our reach.”

Herman and Chomsky adapted Lippmann’s framework to analyze the subtle but powerful influence of profit-seekers on public opinion, elaborating on how the profit motives of media owners and advertisers shaped the content they produced. This analysis worked well in the 1980s when Manufacturing Consent was published. However, the internet, particularly social media, has turned this model upside down.

It is important to note that “manufacturing consent” occurs on both sides of the political spectrum. Any of us can manufacture consent or consent to one. As seen above in the quote, Lippmann regarded the “manufacture of consent” as a social phenomenon that is neither inherently good nor bad. In fact, his view leaned more positive than negative, which is why he suggested the need for technocratic elites to moderate the opinions of the uneducated public—a notion with which John Dewey disagreed (I also disagree). If you are a liberal, you might not consider Democratic strategies as “manufacturing consent” because you believe their ideologies are virtuous. However, keep in mind that even Hitler believed his intentions were good. To prevent self-deception, we need to regard the mechanism of manufacturing consent as value-neutral, as Lippmann did. We do not want fascists believing they are not manufacturing consent simply because they think their intent is righteous. Likewise, the algorithmic fragmentation I’m about to explain is also value-neutral.

Today, we have countless news sources. The power to shape public opinion has been thoroughly decentralized. Before the internet, a positive review by The New York Times could cause a line to form outside a restaurant for months. Now, restaurateurs hardly notice the difference, even after a rave review.

In the last presidential election, Democrats were criticized for relying too much on major news outlets and failing to emphasize grassroots influencers like podcasters, YouTubers, and Twitter/X pundits. When power and influence were centralized at organizations like The New York Times, CNN, and FOX, their personal connections to journalists worked wonders. For instance, they could refuse access to information if journalists did not write favorably—one of the “distorting filters” described in Manufacturing Consent. Because highly educated elites dominate the news media, Democrats were able to manufacture consent more easily than Republicans. Those days, however, are over.

Today, we treat content like dating candidates on Tinder, overwhelmed by choices and with zero tolerance for what we dislike. Every article, song, or film must align perfectly with our current mood. We make no effort to understand or acquire a taste for content that challenges, frustrates, or angers us. This leads us to narrow silos where we agree with everyone around us. No masterminds are orchestrating this fragmentation—media algorithms have replaced them. It is a systemic problem in the literal sense of the word “system.” The only remaining “masterminds” are those who control the algorithms, which is why figures like Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk are potentially dangerous. It’s akin to one person owning the entire global electrical grid. However, even for these masterminds, Chomsky’s framework no longer applies.

The abundance of choices, coupled with algorithms designed to cater to our preferences, fosters laziness and intolerance. We feel entitled to reject what we do not want to hear. Confronted with content that makes us uncomfortable, we shut down or refuse to engage, prioritizing our feelings over intellectual integrity. You might ask why we still consume so much content that makes us angry or fearful. It’s because negative feelings can be pleasurable as long as they vindicate our egos. However, the last thing we want to consume is content that both angers us and proves us wrong—yet that is precisely what meaningful change requires. Above all, we resist being proven wrong, becoming more entrenched in our beliefs.

Consent is no longer manufactured by powerful elites. Even establishment politicians on the Republican side have lost control of their party. It has become a ragtag group of people with wide-ranging opinions and interests, though Democrats often reduce them all to bigots due to outgroup homogeneity bias. In a way, the absence of technocratic elites—the masterminds behind manufacturing consent—has contributed to today’s populist sentiment.

Paradoxically, the idea of someone “manufacturing consent” remains appealing because it is more comforting to believe someone is in control than to confront the reality that nobody is. Furthermore, when you are venting your anger, it feels more rewarding to imagine a person who is causing all of the problems. But if you climbed the ladder of influence, you would find that those at the top are just as clueless. Even the so-called “elites” see themselves as victims of an invisible mastermind. Trump is not a mastermind; he simply feeds people what they want to hear, like a walking social media algorithm. He cannot dictate their desires. Relying on Chomsky’s framework misdirects our attention, contributing to Democratic losses as they assumed they could continue manufacturing consent.

On the liberal side, the absence of a mastermind has created a compulsion to police one another to maintain cohesion. College campuses have been ruled by the tyranny of feelings. Independent thinking is suppressed despite nominal encouragement from professors. Anyone perceived as being “too independent” faces severe consequences. The party that offends someone’s feelings is automatically assumed to be at fault. Critical thinking is rarely applied to the offended party, even though their feelings may be equally distorted, unreasonable, or selfish. Conservatives, annoyed by this dynamic, overreacted by declaring that “facts don’t care about your feelings,” as if emotions are entirely irrelevant. This mutual hostility is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Chomsky’s pyramid has now inverted. Politicians are at the bottom, passively reacting to the public’s demands. Similarly, social media influencers must cater to the whims of their audience rather than share their genuine passions. The social media audience has no patience. If you can’t engage them within 280 characters or 15 seconds, you lose their attention. Polemics, dramatization, and sensationalism thrive, leaving influencers at the mercy of fickle followers. One wrong word, and they move on. Accepting sensationalism as an accurate perception of facts, everyone panics, confirming the apocalyptic narrative further.

So, what is the solution? Personally, I disagree with Lippmann’s solution to empower technocratic elites. I believe in the principle of the wisdom of the crowd, but for it to work, we must foster independent thinking, especially on the left. Identity politics has emerged from the tyranny of feelings, prioritizing arguments based on birth factors. Racism is countered with reverse racism, vilifying all white men and ignoring their concerns. Democrats’ dismissal of these grievances has only driven many toward the right.

Despite this bleak picture, fragmentation, like Lippmann’s “manufacture of consent,” is not inherently bad. Fragmentation can foster the wisdom of the crowd by encouraging diverse thought. However, if liberals continue to self-police and peer-pressure conformity, democracy will collapse into a nation of two fascist parties, inevitably leading to civil war.

Not everyone who voted for Trump opposed abortion. They had their own, often unrelated, concerns. Just because you prioritize one issue does not mean everyone else must. Many pro-choice women are angered by men who participate in pro-life marches because the issue does not directly impact them. Indeed, we all should contribute what we know best. The wisdom of the crowd can reconcile these differences collectively.

While the algorithm-driven fragmentation is worrisome, fragmentation itself is not inherently harmful. The key is to trust in the collective wisdom of humanity, even if the path is circuitous.