Our Democracy Cannot Run on Big Tech’s Goodwill

By Kavisha Pillay

On 4 November, millions of South Africans will queue outside school halls and community centres to choose the people responsible for fixing our potholes, keeping our taps running and ensuring the streetlights come on.

Long before reaching a ballot box, however, most of us will have formed our political impressions elsewhere, like a Facebook feed, on TikTok,  or in a WhatsApp group.

These digital spaces are anything but neutral. Behind every feed are algorithms and corporate decisions determining which political messages travel, whose voices are amplified and whose quietly disappear. A handful of technology companies exercise extraordinary influence over democratic discourse, largely beyond public scrutiny.

Brazil's recent presidential election offers a warning.

Last Sunday, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva secured re-election, defeating Flávio Bolsonaro with nearly 52% of the vote. His victory followed a campaign marred by serious concerns about Meta's treatment of political content.

An investigation by Folha de S.Paulo, drawing on internal Meta communications, revealed restrictions that disadvantaged Lula's Instagram account. His campaign was unable to boost posts for nearly 24 hours, while Bolsonaro's profile was reportedly being recommended to users in searches where Lula's sometimes failed to appear, even when his exact name was entered. Bolsonaro-supporting WhatsApp channels also appeared in searches for Lula-supporting channels.

Further reporting suggested that technical problems affecting Lula's account persisted into the final days of campaigning. Lula ultimately prevailed, but his victory does not resolve the questions these incidents raise. “Technical failures” can distort democratic participation, particularly when they occur at decisive political moments.

A similar concern emerged in the United States when Meta temporarily suspended the Instagram account of the No Kings protest movement during a nationwide day of civic mobilisation. Meta blamed an automated error and apologised. An apology, however, cannot restore a lost political moment. A private company effectively switched off a movement's megaphone when it mattered most.

These incidents expose a threat extending beyond disinformation. Technology companies can amplify manipulation, restrict legitimate political expression and influence democratic participation through systems the public cannot meaningfully scrutinise.

South Africa is hardly immune.

With local elections approaching, similar dynamics could exploit frustrations over service delivery, inequality and corruption. AI-generated deception, opaque political advertising and coordinated manipulation threaten informed choices and public confidence in democracy.

Recently, the Electoral Commission of South Africa (IEC) announced a framework of cooperation with Meta, Google, Microsoft and TikTok deserves scrutiny.

The agreement supports efforts to counter electoral disinformation, including public education and reporting mechanisms. These are welcome initiatives. The framework, however, is fundamentally a gentleman's agreement with some of the world's most powerful corporations.

It explicitly creates no legally binding or enforceable obligations. Platforms retain discretion over moderation and enforcement, face no contractual consequences for non-compliance and are not required to disclose proprietary information.

Notably, X, formerly Twitter, is not a signatory. Its absence raises questions about its willingness to participate in collective efforts to safeguard South Africa's elections.

We would never accept this approach elsewhere. We do not rely solely on banks promising responsible conduct or mining companies voluntarily observing safety standards. Why should the infrastructure of democratic discourse be different?

At the Campaign on Digital Ethics (CODE), we believe South Africa must move from voluntary cooperation towards enforceable democratic accountability. Political advertising must be transparent: who pays, how much and whom they target. Major platforms should face independent assessments of algorithmic risks to elections, while researchers need meaningful access to platform data.

The public and political movements must have accessible remedies when legitimate speech is unfairly restricted. The IEC should publicly report on referrals to platforms, response times and outcomes.

South Africans did not receive the vote as a gift. People organised for it, went to prison for it and died for it. The queues of April 1994 remain sacred because they represented the promise of equal democratic participation.

That promise cannot end at the ballot box. A meaningful vote requires access to information, freedom from manipulation and the ability to participate in public debate. We fought too hard for the right to vote to leave the integrity of our democracy to the goodwill of a handful of tech billionaires.