Does Sovereignty Still Exist in the Age of Algorithms?

By Javier Surasky



For centuries, sovereignty was the invisible shield protecting the territorial independence and governing power of States. Today, with data circulating at unimaginable speeds and scales, and with decisions increasingly automated on remote servers, that shield reveals ever-deeper cracks. Sovereignty has not disappeared, nor will it as a key concept, but it seems to be changing its skin: from physical maps to digital infrastructures, from independence to interconnection, from human decisions to systems where humans and machines co-govern. What, then, is sovereignty in the digital era?

To answer that question, we must travel back in time to the birth of the modern concept of sovereignty and the publication of Jean Bodin's Les Six Livres de la République in 1576. In his view, the sovereign possesses the absolute and indivisible power to make decisions without external interference, since sovereignty was a power above all others. This vision arose from the political need at the end of the Middle Ages, when the kings of France defeated the Empire, the Papacy, and the feudal lords, establishing a national State that, in the words of Jorge Carpizo, had earned its place in the world on the battlefield.

Bodin's notion of sovereignty was consolidated in practice with the Peace of Westphalia and the establishment of the principle of legal equality among States. Since then, sovereignty has meant at least three things: territorial control, exclusive authority, and international recognition.

However, the idea of sovereignty was bound to the “civilizational” concepts defined by European powers. Far from conflicting with colonialism, the sovereignty of European States was part of the so-called "white man's burden," serving as a counterweight to their extractive practices.

Throughout the 20th century, in an international society that had endured two world wars, the traditional notion of sovereignty could not withstand the weight of a new reality. Economic interdependence, the creation of the United Nations, the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and decolonization processes became cracks in the sovereign shield the State had carried for centuries. Thus emerged the idea of sovereignty conditioned by international law and by growing interdependence among States.

The European Union took that process further when its member States agreed to transfer sovereign powers to supranational institutions. Sovereignty was no longer a shield but a network of international rights and obligations, and States could dispose of segments of their sovereign power by delegating them to international organizations.

In our time, the idea of relational sovereignty is also beginning to face tensions imposed by a changing world. National territory, once the internal space for exercising sovereignty, is eroding as the center of international relations. Territory has not (yet) ceased to matter—events occur in some physical place, and their consequences generally affect defined territorial spaces—but to territorial space we must now add cyberspace, which by definition is non-territorial.

Information, now a strategic resource, grants control over discourse, meaning, and decision-making. Data—the skeleton of that information—is becoming part of the sovereignty equation, giving rise to the concept the European Union calls digital sovereignty, while China refers to it as national cyberspace security. Both concepts converge on the same point: national control over technological infrastructure, including data, as the new foundation of State sovereignty.

This transition is not technical but political and highly symbolic. Borders once drawn on maps have moved to the cloud; traditional customs posts have been reinvented as digital firewalls, and international disputes manifest as technological sanctions, software bans, and wars over access to super-powerful chips. We are witnessing the rise of Leviathan 2.0.

Artificial intelligence exacerbates the dilemmas of an outdated concept of sovereignty, exposing them starkly. Algorithms shape public policy, participate in the allocation of public resources, and even go to war. In some countries, AI has been integrated into the judicial function, and we are beginning to see signs of its incorporation into legislative work. It now permeates core State functions through programs created by transnational corporations that lack legitimacy and accountability. Algorithms have become the backdrop of current forms of governance, of global power struggles, and of the capacity to be sovereign beyond the ideologically charged lines on international maps.

Sovereignty, understood as the decision-making capacity, is being gradually transferred to automated systems beyond the reach of State control and public scrutiny. As a result, power has shifted from States to infrastructures, and whoever controls infrastructures controls the future.

In response, the United Nations and other multilateral bodies have sought to understand and regulate the use of AI and data. In 2023, Secretary-General António Guterres established the High-Level Advisory Body on Artificial Intelligence. In August 2025, the General Assembly adopted resolution 79/325, which sets out the “Mandate and modalities for the establishment and functioning of the Independent International Scientific Panel on Artificial Intelligence and the Global Dialogue on Artificial Intelligence Governance.”

Both initiatives are based on a recognition: the speed of technological change surpasses the States’ capacity to regulate it. Yet when decision time arrives, the State reasserts its centrality as the actor in international decision-making, as demonstrated by the adoption of the Global Digital Compact during the 2024 Summit of the Future. Political sovereignty returns to its traditional garments and frees itself from the recommendations of experts, as also occurs, for example, in the fight against climate change.

Digital multilateralism advances through a narrow path between two opposing forces: the need for specialized knowledge and the persistence of a State-centered notion of sovereignty that no longer matches today’s global order. This generates a paradox: the same States that acknowledge their lack of technological understanding reserve the right to decide on it. Meanwhile, in a world increasingly dependent on algorithms, multilateralism tries to build itself using the tools of a fading world order.

Today, the question is not whether States are sovereign, but to what extent. Some authors, such as Stephen Krasner (“Sharing Sovereignty: New Institutions for Collapsed and Failing States”), suggest referring to “shared sovereignty” between humans and machines or between governments and technology corporations. Others—Michael Zürn (A Theory of Global Governance), Dani Rodrik (The Globalization Paradox), and, much earlier, Susan Strange (The Retreat of the State)—argue that we are witnessing irreversible erosion, where power fragments among actors that do not adhere to classical mechanisms of legitimacy.

Together, these authors suggest that sovereignty is no longer a binary condition (one either has it or does not) but a continuum in which State power is dispersed and shared among global and private actors, eroding its territorial basis and democratic legitimacy.

This is not to declare the “disappearance of the State,” but rather a transformation in the idea of sovereignty that shapes and is shaped by the State. In digital matters, States can legislate, but they cannot consistently enforce their laws when decision centers lie outside their territories or within opaque, AI-managed systems.

Sovereignty today depends less on geography than on control over data. It is expressed less in laws than in protocols and standards. The face of power may look the same, but its expression has changed—a digital replica of the original in hyperrealist format.

The challenge is not merely to build governance for the digital world but to adapt our concepts and tools to do so effectively. We need more experts who can speak a language accessible to all, and more social scientists who can analyze how the digital sphere reshapes deeply rooted ideas within their disciplines.

It is time to organize our knowledge, unlearn what confuses us, and create new spaces for reflection and order—or else let the river run its course, even if its waters threaten to overflow the banks that once contained them.