The parallels between our current moment and the Gilded Age are becoming impossible to ignore. As the 2024 election ushers in an era of aggressive deregulation, we're witnessing the emergence of a new aristocracy that would make the robber barons of the 1890s blush. This time, however, the mechanisms of wealth concentration are digital, the territories being carved up are virtual, and the corporate trusts are built on internet protocols rather than railroads.

While the McKinley administration of the 1890s openly served industrial interests, at least those interests were bound by physical constraints and national borders. The era was defined by Mark Hanna's systematic monetization of political influence, where Senate seats were openly purchased and policy was explicitly crafted to serve industrial monopolies. McKinley's presidency, backed by railroad tycoons and steel magnates, represented the peak of corporate capture in the 19th century, with his campaign manager Hanna pioneering modern political fundraising by effectively auctioning government influence to the highest industrial bidders.

The fusion of tech corporate power with oligarchy represents something unprecedented in American history. While the McKinley administration openly served industrial interests, at least those interests were bound by physical constraints and national borders. Today's digital barons operate in a borderless realm where capital flows at the speed of light and regulatory arbitrage is a fundamental business strategy. The cryptocurrency industry, having successfully captured its would-be regulators, now stands poised to remake the American financial system in its own image—opaque, unaccountable, and increasingly controlled by a small cadre of digital aristocrats.

What makes this transformation particularly insidious is how it's being marketed as populist empowerment. Just as the trusts of the 1890s claimed to bring efficiency and progress to the masses, today's crypto oligarchs present themselves as champions of financial inclusion while constructing what amounts to a private monetary system beyond democratic oversight. The promised democratization of finance has instead delivered its privatization, with public institutions increasingly hollowed out or captured by the very interests they were meant to regulate.

This new gilded age differs from its predecessor in one crucial aspect: its transnational character. While the original robber barons were ultimately constrained by American sovereignty, today's digital oligarchs operate in a supranational space where traditional mechanisms of democratic accountability hold little sway. The dismantling of financial regulations, coupled with the emergence of crypto as a shadow banking system, has created a perfect storm where wealth and power can be concentrated with unprecedented efficiency.

The failure of democratic institutions to check this power reflects a deeper crisis in market democracy. The promise of neoliberal capitalism—that free markets would reinforce democratic institutions—has proved hollow. Instead, we've created a system where corporate influence feeds on itself, with each regulatory capture enabling further consolidation of power. The crypto industry represents the logical endpoint of this process: a completely privatized monetary system operating outside democratic control.

What's particularly tragic about this moment is how it represents the culmination of trends set in motion by Citizens United. That decision's equation of money with speech has reached its absurd conclusion in a world where completely useless digital tokens can now effectively purchase political outcomes in the world's most powerful nation. The crypto industry's successful push for deregulation demonstrates how thoroughly our democratic processes have been colonized by private interests and no longer even pretends to serve the public interest.

The implications for American economic supremacy are stark. While the United States still hosts the world's most sophisticated financial markets, the ongoing dismantling of regulatory safeguards threatens this position. The rush to embrace crypto deregulation risks undermining the very institutional foundations that made American markets the global standard. In our reckless haste to accommodate so-called "digital innovation", we're sacrificing the stability and transparency that attracted capital to our shores in the first place.

As we enter this new era, the question isn't whether we're recreating the Gilded Age—it's whether we're creating something far worse. The combination of digital technology, captured regulators, and borderless capital has created mechanisms for power concentration that Mark Hanna could only have dreamed of. The tragedy is that this time, we can't claim ignorance of the consequences. We've seen this story before, yet we seem determined to replay it with even more devastating tools at our disposal.

The path ahead looks increasingly like a corporate autocracy draped in the language of innovation and freedom. As public institutions are hollowed out and regulatory oversight crumbles, we're witnessing the birth of a new form of governance—one where corporate patronage and digital oligarchy replace democratic accountability. The American experiment in self-governance is being quietly replaced by a system of private power that would make the original Gilded Age seem quaint by comparison.

The most sobering reality is that this transformation may be beyond our capacity to prevent. Like the inexorable logic of a market crash, the momentum of digital oligarchy appears destined to run its course—no matter how clearly we see the approaching storm. What's happening is more fundamental than just economic restructuring: American society is transitioning from a principle-based society to a transaction-based society, where every interaction is reduced to its monetary value. At least historically, democratic renewal often follows periods of extreme consolidation, but the price of that renewal has always been paid in social upheaval and human suffering. This time, with the machinery of digital control so thoroughly embedded in our economic and social fabric, the cost of eventual correction may be catastrophic.

Perhaps, like the original Gilded Age, this era will eventually give way to a new Progressive Era—but only after the contradictions of digital feudalism have fully played out, and only after a level of systemic collapse that would make the Great Depression look like a mere market correction. Until then, we watch as the promise of democracy mutates into its opposite, powerless to do more than document our descent into this new horror.