From Borders to Networks: Is the Modern Nation-State Obsolete?

In previous blog posts, I’ve explored the growing likelihood that our current secular cycle may be nearing its end — and with it, the possibility of an impending societal crash. I’ve also written about how, throughout history, each major collapse has been followed by a period of renewal, where society doesn’t just recover, but rebuilds itself into a stronger, more advanced version of what came before:

1. 14th Century Crisis (Black Death, feudal collapse)

   From: Conquest & subjugation

   To: Customary rights & negotiated social order

2. 17th Century General Crisis (wars, revolts, instability)

   From: Divine rule & absolutism

   To: Institutional governance & rule of law

3. Late 18th–Early 19th Century Revolutions (American, French, etc.)

   From: Monarchic authority

   To: Popular sovereignty & individual rights

With that in mind, today I want to explore a provocative question: Has the modern nation-state run its course? Could it be time for something new? And if so, what might that look like?

Before we dive in, I want to emphasize that predicting the future is impossible, and I’m almost certainly wrong. This is simply an intellectual exercise, one which I personally find rewarding to explore.

Why the Nation-State May No Longer Be Enough

Systems of government are, in essence, operating systems for how large human societies organize themselves. The modern nation-state emerged after the Treaty of Westphalia and matured during the 19th century in a world radically different from the one we inhabit today. Many of the foundational pillars the operating system was built upon no longer function in the same way, raising questions about the continued suitability of this model in our present era.

Borders Were Linear

In the past, territory was everything. Sovereignty began and ended at clearly defined lines on a map.

Why this made sense:

• Communication and control were bound by geography.

• Warfare was fought on land.

• Wealth and power came from resources (coal, timber, farmland, mines).

• Labor was tied to the land where people lived.

• Trade was primarily local or maritime, bounded by proximity.

But in today’s world, value, influence, and control transcend geography. Data, capital, culture, disease, influence, and power all ignore borders.

Why borders are no longer linear:

• TikTok influences minds in countries it doesn't belong to.

• Cyberwarfare, biowarfare, and disinformation campaigns are waged without crossing a single border.

• The world’s most valuable companies are digital. They operate in cloud servers, not on plots of land.

• Remote work has detached labor from location.

• Trade is global, automated, and sometimes even invisible, flowing through digital platforms rather than ports.

Identity Was Singular

In the past, people were one thing: French, British, Chinese. Your nationality was your destiny.

Why this made sense:

• Most people lived their entire lives in one language, one religion, one worldview.

• Mass education, state propaganda, and national myth-making transformed peasants into Frenchmen, Germans, and Americans — cohesive citizens with a shared identity and purpose.

But today, identity has become layered, fluid, and increasingly personal. Instead of saying, “I’m French,” people now describe themselves in complex ways: "I'm a vegan, libertarian, straight, atheist, hair-implanted ultra-fan of PSG."

Why identity is no longer singular:

• Diaspora communities have created multicultural cities where multiple national, ethnic, and cultural identities coexist, possibly even within a single person.

• Digital media has broken the stranglehold of existing propaganda machines, offering people alternative truths, perspectives, and communities.

• Online tribalism forms ideological echo chambers that often supersede loyalty to the nation-state. People now feel more aligned with global subcultures than with their passport.

The Migration From the Cloud to the Physical World

The migration from online ideological communities to real-world, geographically rooted communities feels to me like a logical and inevitable development.

Take, for example, an online space like a subreddit for entrepreneurs. Someone asks, “What’s the best city for entrepreneurs to live in?” and the most upvoted response is Chiang Mai. A few readers are inspired and decide to move there, later returning to the thread and confirming it is a great place for entrepreneurs. Then, a journalist stumbles upon the thread and writes a listicle: “Top 10 Cities for Entrepreneurs”, placing Chiang Mai at the top.

Now, whenever someone googles “best cities for entrepreneurs,” Chiang Mai keeps appearing. As more entrepreneurs relocate, the city itself begins to adapt, offering more favorable legal frameworks, co-working spaces, startup support, and services tailored to that demographic. This, in turn, attracts even more entrepreneurs. Over time, you would expect Chiang Mai’s culture, values, and identity to begin to diverge from those of the broader nation of Thailand.

Bit by bit, it starts to function more like an independent city-state, optimized around a specific ideology and community. A helpful mental model here is Dubai — a city that, while technically part of the UAE, operates under a distinct legal system and holds a cultural and ideological identity quite different from the rest of the country. It effectively behaves like an autonomous city-state.

Cities already evolve this way, but as digital tribes increasingly seek physical roots, and work becomes more and more remote, I believe we’ll see this evolution accelerate. Then, if the world enters a prolonged period of geopolitical instability, with large failures of nation-level institutions, it’s not unthinkable that some of these ideologically distinct cities could begin to seek actual political independence — emerging as fully sovereign city-states.

Can We Take This Idea a Step Further? Introducing the Network State

This kind of ideological clustering doesn’t just happen at the city level, it plays out at every scale. Within cities, we naturally gravitate toward areas that reflect our values and lifestyles. Different districts attract different types of people. This sorting happens at the level of neighborhoods, gated communities, and even apartment complexes. And if you zoom in far enough, it exists even within a single apartment building, my worldview might be completely different from that of the person living just one floor above me.

But no matter how different my views are from my neighbor’s, we can both likely find online communities that reflect our own values. So what if — instead of assigning nationality based on where we're born — we "joined" a nationality based on our identity? In essence, this would flip the logic of the modern nation-state on its head.

Where the traditional nation-state is geographically unified but ideologically fragmented, a network state is ideologically unified but geographically scattered. It aligns people by values, not borders.

I imagine a world where borders are as fluid as our identities. As an individual, I, and the property I own, could be governed by whichever network state I choose to align with. If I become dissatisfied with the leadership of my current state — much like many Americans are with Trump today — I could rescind my digital citizenship and join a different network state that better reflects my values.

At that point, the taxes I pay no longer go to the old system, but to the new one. The shift isn't just symbolic, it’s structural. And if an entire community, say a gated neighborhood, makes the switch collectively, the transition could be seamless: the electronic gates at the entrance now scan for a different digital passport, granting access to shared areas only to those who belong to the new shared governance model.

In my view, this represents a clear improvement over our current model of democracy, where a 51% majority can impose changes on the other 49%, who are then forced to live with decisions they fundamentally disagree with. In a network state, if you disagree strongly enough, you don’t have to fight a losing battle within the system, you simply opt out and join a different network that aligns with your values. Each network becomes a kind of 100% consent-based democracy, where membership is voluntary, and governance reflects the shared beliefs of its citizens.

Could We Make Network States Truly Individual?

Taking the concept even further, what if, instead of belonging to a single network state, you could "subscribe" to multiple networks simultaneously? This would allow you to build a customized stack of affiliations that reflects your unique identity, values, and needs.

You’d hold multiple digital passports, each granting access to specific services, communities, and geographic areas. Your nation state would no longer be a singular entity, but rather a multi-layered amalgamation of chosen allegiances — a personalized governance structure, unique to you.

For example, the fluid individual we described earlier, could subscribe to such a stack of networks:

• A healthcare network that exists solely to provide medical services aligned with their preferences and values.

• A policing and security network responsible for ensuring safety and local enforcement, tailored to a community's agreed principles.

• A public transport network designed to offer efficient mobility across regions they frequently travel through.

• A vegan network that guarantees access to plant-based food options, shared kitchens, and aligned lifestyle communities.

• A relationship & family values network aligned with heterosexual norms, offering dating platforms, parenting resources, and legal frameworks for traditional family structures.

• An atheist or secular humanist network, focused on science-based education, rational policy, and the separation of belief systems from governance structures.

• A hair implant network, specializing in hair restoration, personal grooming, offering subsidized or premium treatments and community support.

• A PSG ultra-fan cultural network, granting access to exclusive content, events, merchandise drops, fan-owned media, and preferred seating sections in stadiums.

As you’ve likely noticed, the vision above isn’t all that far removed from our current reality. We already subscribe to dozens of private services that handle everything from transportation to healthcare and entertainment. The key difference is that, in a network-state model, we would no longer be forced to fund a broad range of government services through blanket taxation. Instead, we’d only pay for the services we actually use, opting out of those we see as unnecessary or inefficient.

In theory, this would make these services far more effective, because they would exist in a competitive environment. If the healthcare network I’m subscribed to starts failing, I can simply switch to a better one, just like I would with any subscription service today.

By contrast, many current government services continue to exist regardless of their effectiveness, because their funding is not tied to user satisfaction or performance. Instead, their survival depends on political success and continued access to tax revenue. In a network-based system, ineffective services would naturally phase out, while better alternatives rise to take their place, not through legislation, but through voluntary choice.

What About The Less Fortunate?

We’ve arrived at the elephant in the room. Everything above sounds great in theory, IF everyone is employed, healthy, and able to afford access to the basic services a person needs to live. But real life isn’t a utopia. Some people aren’t so lucky. So how would a network state take care of them? Would the poor, the disabled, and the vulnerable simply be left out to fend for themselves?

If the network state tried to take care of them, wouldn’t the high earners simply just opt out and join other network states with minimal or no taxation. Leaving the less fortunate behind in welfare-based networks that can no longer afford to provide welfare? And could we really expect charity-driven networks to gain enough popularity and funding to sustainably care for the poor?

This is where I believe some form of geographic governance is still necessary. But it doesn’t need to be on the scale of a modern nation-state. A city-level governance system could be sufficient.

For example, residing in a particular city could make you subject to a city-wide tax, not to fund bloated bureaucracies, but simply to support a universal basic income (UBI) distributed equally to all residents. The city sets the tax rate high enough so that the UBI is sufficient to cover access to whatever is deemed essential. Nothing more.

This creates a lightweight, regional safety net, ensuring basic dignity for all, while still allowing for ideological freedom and competition among the wider network states layered on top.

What About National Defense?

The question of national defense is an interesting one. Let's say the vegans declare war on the meat-eaters. Not just petty disputes, the kind a shared local police network might settle, but actual all-out ideological warfare. The vegan network is ready to use any and all force to seize control of the meat-eaters’ communal kitchens. So how could a decentralized network state, whose property is geographically scattered all around the globe, possibly defend itself?

At first glance, it seems like an impossible problem. But when we consider the likely future of warfare — a battlefield dominated not by soldiers, but by autonomous drones and cyber defense systems — the idea becomes far more plausible.

In a future defined by remote, automated defense, it’s entirely conceivable that even a gated community aligned with a network state could be protected by a small fleet of surveillance and security drones, supported by backup units stationed at nearby strategic hubs. Defense would become modular, distributed, and increasingly digital, just like the state itself.

Conclusion: A New Operating System for a New Reality

To me, one of the most compelling features of network states is the ability to accelerate cultural and political evolution. In today’s world, different ideologies clash endlessly in the court of opinion. Economists debate, politicians posture, and very little actually changes. But with network states, you no longer need to win the argument. You simply build your network, test your hypothesis in real time, and let reality decide which ideas succeed.

This creates a framework for real-time societal experimentation, where governance, values, and services compete like products in a marketplace. The results? Faster feedback loops. Clearer outcomes. Fewer central bottlenecks slowing progress.

We need a new operating system, one not built on the assumptions of the 19th century, but on the pillars of our new reality:

• Identity is no longer singular or national — it is layered, fluid, and digital.

• Power is no longer centralized in geography — it is distributed across networks and platforms.

• Value is no longer tied to land and labor — it flows through code, culture, and data.

• Loyalty is no longer to borders — it’s to shared beliefs, communities, and causes.

From this perspective, the idea of modular, overlapping networks isn’t some sci-fi abstraction, it’s a logical next step. Today, the concept may still feel fringe. But if national institutions begin to break down — as many show signs of doing — people won’t just wait in line for the system to reboot. They’ll build their own systems. And these network-like structures will emerge not by force or revolution, but as a natural reaction to institutional collapse.

This wouldn’t be the first time. After the fall of the Roman Empire, a vast system of centralized governance gave way to a decentralized patchwork of feudal territories and autonomous city-states. Power didn’t disappear, it simply reorganized itself to fit new realities. Network states may be the modern equivalent: not an end point, but the next iteration in humanity’s long experiment with social coordination.

Of course, it would be remiss to bring up Rome without mentioning what came before. The fall of the Roman Republic didn’t usher in decentralization, it brought forth Empire. Perhaps our democracies, too, must first consolidate into something more authoritarian before they can eventually fall, and only then give way to a new, decentralized model like network states.

If that’s the case, we might not just be early with this idea. We might be centuries too early.