A groundbreaking new lens on human history arguing that data has always been the seed of power—those who hold it have drawn and enforced borders, exploited nature, and governed lives—and that reckoning with this legacy must galvanize us to resist it.
Historians have pointed to guns, germs, steel, religion, agriculture, and the female body as the engines of human history. But what do they all have in common? Every human approach to power and domination has involved collecting data—from tracking where and how long animals live to sharpen the hunt, to classifying our fellow humans by sex, race and religion to stratify, isolate, and subjugate them. Recording and mastering data has always been the foundation of rule—and we are living through it now, too.
In Data Empire, Roopika Risam uncovers the hidden history of data as a force that has shaped civilizations, upheld empires, and controlled lives. From ancient cave markings and knotted strings to colonial censuses and modern digital surveillance, Risam shows how data has always been a technology of control.
In this paradigm-shifting study, Risam confronts how data has deepened inequality, justified conquest, and fueled racial hierarchies over 11,000 years. Empire was never just about weapons or ships, she argues. It was built on information that now rules us. Both a sweeping history and a sharp critique, Data Empire is a call to recognize the power data holds—and to imagine what resistance looks like in an age defined by it. The story of humanity is the story of data—and knowing its past is the first step to breaking its grip on our lives and futures.
This is an interesting read. The historical anecdotes are often fascinating, even if the narrative feels a little jagged at times.
Unfortunately, I think something fundamental holds the book back.
I absolutely agree that those in power can and do use data to consolidate power. History provides many examples of that. My disagreement is with treating that as the defining history of data itself.
I think people collect data because they are trying to make better decisions. They do not always succeed. Sometimes conclusions have already been reached before the evidence is gathered. Sometimes personal or political values become so firmly established that new data is interpreted only through that lens. In those cases, the problem is not the data—it is the misalignment between the evidence and the conclusions people are determined to reach.
That is where I think Data Empire disappoints.
What I found most troubling was not factual accuracy but data selection. Nearly every example illustrates data being used to consolidate power, reinforce hierarchy, or limit human freedom. Those stories deserve to be told. The problem is that they are presented with remarkably little consideration of the equally important history of data expanding human knowledge, improving public health, correcting error, challenging authority, and increasing human opportunity.
Where are John Snow’s cholera maps? Where is the statistical work that transformed medicine? Where are weather satellites, nutritional science, cancer research, quality control, or the countless examples where better data gave governments and societies better choices rather than fewer? These are not obscure counterexamples. They are among the defining achievements of the information age. Their absence matters.
Ironically, I think the book demonstrates the very problem it warns against. It argues that powerful institutions shape reality by selectively collecting and presenting information to reinforce existing values and conclusions. Yet I found myself wondering whether Data Empire applies that same standard to its own historical narrative. A book about data should be especially careful that its conclusions emerge from the evidence rather than selecting evidence that supports conclusions already reached.
That leaves me with one question for Roopika Risam: Which came first while writing this book—the historical evidence or the thesis?
I ask that question respectfully because I think there is an excellent book hiding inside this one. The history is interesting, and many of the stories deserve to be better known. But I finished the book wishing it had wrestled more honestly with the full history of data—including the many times better data has expanded human options rather than narrowed them.
Data itself is not the villain. Misalignment is. The real ethical question is not whether data can be used for harmful purposes—it clearly can—but whether we remain willing to let evidence challenge the values and conclusions we bring to it.
The central thesis presented by Roopika Risam is that information gives us (and particularly countries) the power to organise, control and dominate others. Although I have a couple of issues with the presentation, this is a genuinely interesting trip through the history of our use of stored information from the earliest tallies to the latest information technology.
I loved a quote from Lisa Gitelman that data is is always 'cooked' so 'raw data is an oxymoron'. This neatly underlines Risam's thesis that data and information are not neutral facts, but rather tools that (like everything from fire to electronics) can be used for good or evil. As we are taken through the historical context, it can sometimes be a little difficult to judge whether Risam regards a particular example as bad or good, even when the outcome is disastrous.
One thing I didn't like too much is the adherence to a popular science writing approach that has got distinctly hackneyed: opening chapters with an imagined narrative that is only tangential to the real point. So, for instance, the first chapter, C. 9000-1700 BCE begins 'The priestess hurried out of the temple with the baby she had delivered in secret...' and goes on in this fashion for a page and a half, leaving me as a reader thinking 'Get on with it!'
There was an interesting parallel with Brainjacking, which gives parallel roles to story, with 'informing, influencing and manipulating' being the equivalent of 'organising, controlling and dominating' here. I do take a little umbrage at Risam's suggestion that 'Long before we wrote stories we kept score.' [Meaning we denoted data with symbols like a tally.] But this only refers to written stories: we told stories before we kept score, and I would argue they are more powerful. Let's face it, if stories don't trump data, there's no point writing a book like this.
The part I struggled most with was the closing section that portrayed two possible versions of 2126. One where a tech company controlled a worker's life to the extent that the software decided when they woke up, what they had for breakfast, how long they spent at work, and so on. The other was what I assume was meant to be a utopia where 'In the garment cooperative, an algorithm suggests schedules that would boost output by 6 percent, so the workers call a vote. Some want the efficiency bonus, while others want shorter hours. The debate runs long, but the algorithm waits...'
For me, both these futures are dystopian. I don't want my future controlled by a tech company or by a committee. We certainly need to be able make human decisions about AI/algorithmic recommendations, but please save us from the workers' collective committee too. Have we learned nothing from communist failures? Inevitably what we get is a progressive liberal academic viewpoint of what the future should be like. The analysis of the dangers of misused information is important - but the solution should not be so one-sided.
Thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Transworld Publishers for providing an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
Roopika Risam’s Data Empire is an absolute tour de force that delivers a sweeping, grand history of data, masterfully charting our relationship with information from the dawn of humanity to the digital age. Risam takes readers on an unforgettable voyage through time, beginning when Homo sapiens first branched off from our primate relatives and utilized art as an early form of information storage. She seamlessly transitions into the practical accountancy of early Sumeria and the intricate quipus (knotted cords) of Peru. Right from these ancient origins, Risam brilliantly uncovers the dark thread connecting information to authority. She notes that the moment priests began carrying the ledgers, they became masters of the accounts—and, crucially, the keepers of power.
The narrative maintains its breath-taking momentum as it moves through the alphabetic revolution across the globe and examines the rise of libraries as vital sites of knowledge storage and synthesis. Risam’s historical sharp-sightedness shines as she analyzes pivotal moments of systemic control: from the Roman Emperor Constantine leveraging information to distinguish heresy from accepted dogma, to the Abbasid Caliphate collecting and synthesizing global knowledge, and the Norman kings cementing absolute rule through the sheer administrative weight of the Domesday Book. Central to her argument is the Age of Empires, where colonial bookkeeping reduced vibrant societies to mere circuits of "credit and extraction." Risam powerfully demonstrates how data inherently strips away humanity, reducing complex individuals down to faceless statistics.
As the book approaches modern times, Risam explores how this historical control of the ledger translates into the staggering, near-monopolistic power held by today's tech elite. She does a magnificent job exposing the acute dangers of data ownership in both public and private hands when a human being no longer counts as a person, but rather as a statistic or a revenue-generating unit. Her reasoning is profoundly insightful, proving that even seemingly benign structures—like the Dewey Decimal Classification system—are deeply reflective of their inventor’s subjective worldview and can never truly be deemed objective. This builds toward a gripping critique of our current era, highlighting the dominant, troubling roles played by social media and AI titans like Meta and Alphabet, with a particularly chilling look at Palantir’s growing influence in global affairs.
Ultimately, Data Empire is not merely a warning; it concludes beautifully with a profoundly hopeful and emancipatory final chapter on what the world could look like if we were to reclaim control and ownership of our data. For enthusiasts of Yuval Noah Harari’s sweeping timelines, Peter Frankopan’s geopolitical networks, and Shoshana Zuboff’s critiques of surveillance capitalism, this book is an essential, mesmerizing addition to the canon. Risam has written an extraordinary, intellectually rigorous masterpiece—and it is a book I will definitely be returning to for years to come.
Hello Roopika Risam, I hope you are doing well. My name is Kingsley Brown, and I recently came across your book, "Data Empire". I took some time to learn about your work, and I really appreciate the ideas and effort you put into creating it. I noticed that your book has a message that could be valuable to more readers, and I believe there may be opportunities to improve its visibility and help more people discover it. I work in digital marketing, and I would love to share a few ideas that could help promote your book and grow
A compelling history of how data has been generated and utilized throughout human history, culminating in a discussion about ways that data is used in the modern era to surveil and control populations and rule over us in increasingly dystopic manner, and problems created by private enterprise controlling data. Optimistically, shows a possible way forward where data is used to enhance human lives, rather than to subjugate.
We tend to think that the analysis of data is a modern thing. From algorithms, targeted advertising and suggestions to buy. The use of data, collection and analysis goes back centuries. The history of how and why data was collected. How empire's expanded and fell. An interesting and informative book that will make you think.
I do like to dip into non-fiction books that have a mix of history, technology and what has, or could happen. This book is one of those, and it makes for very interesting reading.
I am not a science-minded person, but this book starts in the past, explaining how data and information were used from the earliest of times for the basics, such as migration, crop planting, and basic living. The author then proceeds through the years, showing and explaining how data collection has changed over time.
We are aware that large companies collect data every time we are on the internet, and how it is used for the "algorithms" to engage the user, show relevant ads, information and just basically hijack us. Well, for me, it feels like hijacking.
This book delivers a history lesson on how data can be used for good, and more importantly, how it can be used as a manipulation tool. I think it is well laid out and a really interesting read. Confirming some suspicions, opening my eyes to other things and giving quite an addictive read.
I really enjoyed how this book delivered the information, how it included the history, current collection and some projections of the future. It is a book I would be very happy to recommend.
قرأت ملخص فقط لهذا الكتاب. و أعتقد أنه كتاب قيم و أكاديمي و يستحق منا الوقت. لأن تاريخ البيانات و خوارزميات التحكم في الشعوب ليست فكرة محدثة نعتقد اليوم أننا نحن اليوم من اخترعها، بل لها بعد انطولوجي بدأت مع قيام أقدم الحضارات و نحن اليوم نقوم بتطويرها و حسب