Algorithmic foreign policy influence
Ideas in foreign and strategic policy are no longer formulated in academia and passed to the government in cheap lunchtime meetings or over stale coffee at poorly catered academic-government 1.5-track conferences. They rarely come from the lower echelons of the ministry and bubble up through the ranks, and for a good while, they haven’t made the circuitous route from frontline posts to the ministry and then up the ranks to the minister.
No. Our ideas behind foreign and strategic policy today largely come from two sources: thinktanks and influencers - both of whom rely upon social media algorithms to influence and persuade.
Our ideas are shaped — often distorted — in real time across social media feeds governed by algorithms that reward outrage, certainty, and emotion over context, complexity, and nuance. In this new environment, the algorithm doesn’t merely transmit information about international affairs; it reframes them, amplifies certain voices, buries others, and increasingly dictates what the public — and by extension, policymakers — believe to be true.
At the core of this transformation is the algorithm itself: a constantly evolving machine designed not to inform, but to engage. Platforms like X (formerly Twitter), Facebook, TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram rely on proprietary code to keep users scrolling. These algorithms are finely tuned to prioritize content that is emotionally reactive — especially posts that provoke anger, fear, or tribal solidarity.
As a result, geopolitical discourse is not evaluated on the basis of insight or credibility, but on its ability to provoke a reaction. A fringe conspiracy theory, a meme ridiculing an enemy state, or a video of a missile strike edited to dramatic music may dominate the conversation while sober diplomatic briefings barely register.
Try your own Twitter or Bluesky feed. See how many times the repeated posts of large thinktanks or foreign policy influencers pop-up on each scroll. Personally, I try to follow every academic in my field. Many are not on social media - they gave up. Many have an intermittent presence - just enough to say “I’m here”. Around two or three, are actually regularly reposted and liked.
Now think about the thinktanks, like CSIS, RAND, or Brookings. It is IMPOSSIBLE to miss their latest statement, podcast or paper. Through the process of one scroll, you will see it reposted by one account five times, the official account three times, and by a host of sycophants and interns around twenty times. It becomes viral - as far as anything slightly academic can be. I mean, I love CSIS and respect their work - but posting every five minutes or so is getting a bit much!
This dynamic has reshaped how audiences — and often leaders — understand international events. The first narrative to go viral often becomes the truth, at least in the public imagination. Corrections and nuance come later, if at all, and rarely travel as far or fast. In the vacuum left by underfunded journalism and eroded public trust in traditional media, the algorithmic feed becomes the dominant frame through which foreign crises, wars, and diplomacy are understood.
Well-resourced think tanks, often supported by private influence firms, play a central role in shaping the social media landscape around foreign and strategic affairs. These organizations, some linked to political donors, state institutions, or corporate lobbies, have the money, networks, and digital sophistication to steer narratives. Their influence operations are not limited to policy briefings or op-eds — they are embedded in the very structure of online discourse.
I have in the past been contacted by such organizations to write op-eds in support of X country or Y country. Once by opposing sides! Their offers are quite generous. Now, if they’re offering a feckless schmuck like me decent money to write crap, they’re offering the big guns some serious money! It really makes me doubt everything I see on the media and social media. Nothing is real.
Through coordinated campaigns, think tanks can flood the discourse with their preferred frames, ensuring their talking points trend during key diplomatic events or crises. Some maintain vast networks of affiliated commentators, “fellows,” or anonymous contributors who saturate the timeline with seemingly organic commentary. Many of these individuals appear independent, but their messages align perfectly with institutional priorities.
Think tanks also partner with social media influencers, micro-celebrities, and podcast hosts to reach younger or less policy-literate audiences, embedding strategic narratives within more accessible or entertaining content.
In a digital arena where visibility is power, money buys reach. Well-funded institutions can pay for promoted posts, invest in audience targeting tools, and deploy bots to artificially amplify their messages. They can also hire digital analytics teams to test what language, hashtags, or emotional tones are most effective — and then iterate in real time. The result is not just strategic communication; it is narrative warfare.
Meanwhile, foreign policy professionals and security experts without these resources struggle to break through. Independent analysts or underfunded academic voices may produce thoughtful, data-driven assessments — but if their content is not algorithmically favored or institutionally amplified, it is unlikely to reach key publics.
As a result, the foreign policy debate becomes a competition not of ideas, but of visibility. The loudest, best-funded, and most meme-savvy actors dominate, regardless of the quality or integrity of their arguments.
Many academics are just tired. Their jobs are considerably less secure. Their futures are uncertain. The possibilities of reaching the pinnacle - Vice-Chancellor or Chancellor, passed on to politicians who can push through government agendas. The ideal of tenure - an assured job for life so that you are free to explore new areas of knowledge is gone.
Today, you are increasingly required to research whatever the government of the day deems worthy. And of course, if you don’t spew out feckless op-eds or create a public profile in some other way, well, your job is pretty much at risk. You’ll be replaced by an influencer with more followers!
This marks a striking departure from traditional academic channels of influence — peer-reviewed journals, policy monographs, and closed-door symposia — which operate on an entirely different logic. These venues reward slow thinking, methodological rigor, and institutional credibility. Their audience is narrow, composed mostly of other experts, policymakers, or bureaucrats.
By contrast, social media rewards immediacy, virality, and emotional clarity. A single post by a savvy influencer can reach millions within minutes, shaping perceptions in ways no scholarly article ever could. This divergence creates a fundamental tension: academic work may offer deeper insights, but it rarely shapes the political narrative in real time. Social media sets the tempo — and increasingly, the terms — of foreign policy debate.
Authoritarian states, of course, have not missed this shift. China, Russia, Iran, and others have developed sophisticated online operations designed to manipulate foreign information environments. These range from state-backed troll farms and botnets to disinformation campaigns tailored to specific regions and demographic groups (if any academics want to start a troll farm to increase influence, let me know - I do too!).
The line between “foreign interference” and domestic narrative shaping is blurring. When Western think tanks and contractors use the same techniques — albeit in the name of democracy or strategic clarity — the result is the same: a heavily mediated, contested, and often manipulated understanding of global events.
All of this raises uncomfortable questions about who really controls the discourse around foreign and strategic policy. The ideal of a well-informed public debating issues based on evidence and expert input now competes with a reality in which algorithms reward virality, institutions engineer visibility, and states wage battles over attention, not territory.
Policymakers and the public alike must now understand that the information space is itself a battleground. The algorithm is not a neutral arbiter; it is an active participant. And the strategic advantage increasingly lies with those who can manipulate it best.
