It is an occupational hazard for writers examining technology: books about the digital age run a constant risk of becoming outdated almost as soon as the ink dries. Companies rise and fall with dizzying speed, while hot new products are inevitably discarded for the next major innovation. Yet, history occasionally circles back, revealing that some observers understood the underlying trajectory of an industry long before the rest of the world caught on.
Last year, "Nerd Reich" author Gil Durán publicly declared that it was time to revive the career of Paulina Borsook, noting that she "saw it all very clearly and tried to warn us 25 years ago." Later that same fall, The New York Times reported that Borsook’s seminal book, "Cyberselfish"—originally published in 2000—was quietly finding a new generation of enthusiastic readers. These new fans were turning to the text to understand why the contemporary tech industry seemingly lost its way.
Now, long after going out of print and lingering on secondary markets as an expensive rarity, "Cyberselfish" is returning to bookshelves in a brand-new edition published by Tin House, complete with a fresh introduction by Durán.
In a wide-ranging Zoom interview, Borsook explained that the book was originally conceived as "almost a travelogue" documenting her attempts to understand what she terms the techno-libertarian influence shaping Silicon Valley culture.
"That’s a 12-year-old view of the world," Borsook said, describing the mindset as a distinct "basket of beliefs" that remains "violently anti-regulation," despite the historical reality that "no sector of society had benefited more and suffered less from the government than these guys." In her view, that ideological undercurrent persisted long after the initial dot-com crash. "That attitude was just there, percolating around, contaminating the aquifers. It was uncorrected, and it just spread out more and more."
Despite the sharp insights of "Cyberselfish," Borsook never published a second book. She noted that after her debut was released, "no one was interested in anything I might have to say about anything, tech or not tech, forever after."
For years, the book drifted into obscurity. However, last year, Borsook began noticing that prices for used copies on secondary platforms were creeping upward. She also began encountering entirely unexpected posts on social media from unfamiliar users arguing that the book was critically important and should never have been forgotten. Inquiries from European academics soon followed, eventually culminating in broader press coverage and the upcoming Tin House edition.
Tracing the Roots of Techno-Libertarianism
Reflecting on how her exploration began, Borsook emphasizes that her entry into the subject was entirely inadvertent. Having spent time knocking around early-to-mid 1980s tech circles in the San Francisco Bay Area, she began hearing strange, offhand remarks by the early 1990s that she simply could not decipher.
Rather than arguing, her instinct was to listen. While she lacked a precise term for the phenomenon beyond general libertarianism, the mindset struck her as peculiar. Growing up in Pasadena near the Caltech-Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) space program, she was already familiar with a different kind of STEM culture. The parents of her childhood peers understood clearly what government funding and infrastructure could achieve; they operated without self-righteous grandiosity, despite accomplishing monumental scientific feats. When she first encountered Silicon Valley, she initially assumed it was merely another familiar STEM culture, only to find a completely different personality type at play.
This confusion ultimately steered her toward authorship. When an agent picked her up after she completed her MFA at Columbia University, he asked if she had a nonfiction book in her. She pointed to the bizarre, misunderstood subculture she had been observing, setting off a chain of investigation that culminated in a snapshot-driven travelogue rather than a dry polemic.
While contemporary readers might recognize that figures like Steven Levy touched upon the alternative philosophies and libertarian streaks running through Silicon Valley, Borsook stood out for placing that specific mindset under a rigorous microscope at a time when most tech writing was overwhelmingly celebratory.
Discussing the internal divisions within the region, Borsook recalls a key distinction she drew in her original book between "Ravers" and "Gilders." She named the latter after George Gilder, a reactionary and conservative thought leader from the early 1990s. The Ravers, by contrast—named in homage to John Perry Barlow—embraced countercultural elements like drugs, sex, rock and roll, and Burning Man, making them far more culturally liberal.
This ideological split, Borsook argues, remains visible in contemporary Silicon Valley. Today’s ecosystem houses both Christian nationalists and conservative Catholics in executive leadership alongside techno-optimists experimenting with alternative lifestyles, psychedelic substances, and the artificial intelligence and effective altruism movements. Yet, she emphasizes that this remains primarily a cultural phenomenon among the tech elite, noting that the broader San Francisco peninsula continues to vote blue in traditional electoral politics.
The Ongoing Legacy of Disregard for Regulation
When asked why techno-libertarianism poses a fundamental problem for society—particularly for those who view technology as an inherently liberatory force capable of freeing humanity from government bureaucracy—Borsook points directly to a lack of historical awareness.
"First of all, that’s a 12-year-old view of the world," she said. Describing the ideology as a cloud of beliefs that borrows poorly from biological concepts of natural evolution, she argues that its adherents consistently ignore the immense government subsidies, research and development grants, and foundational infrastructure that made their entire world possible.
She points to contemporary examples, such as tech billionaires relocating across state lines to the Nevada side of Lake Tahoe to escape California taxes, while simultaneously praising the pristine environment. The clarity and purity of Lake Tahoe, she notes, are the direct result of decades of government intervention, scientific research, and environmental regulation—a connection that highlights a persistent refusal to connect the dots.
Examining the broader arc of the industry, Borsook sees deep continuity rather than a sudden shift. She marks the Netscape IPO as the moment the culture fundamentally transformed, as Silicon Valley was inundated by finance-driven mentalities and a culture of "flip and flee." Even after the dot-com collapse, that speculative attitude lingered in the water system. Later enterprises like Airbnb and Uber, which she characterizes primarily as financial plays rather than fundamental technological innovations, doubled down on fighting regulations while disrupting local housing markets—a direct manifestation of the sociopathic business culture she identified decades ago.
Turning her attention to the modern artificial intelligence boom, Borsook views it through the exact same analytical lens. "We don’t need to be regulated. We’re the most brilliant, genius, wonderful people in the world," she said, characterizing the current AI landscape as a massive financial play driven by stock valuations rather than intrinsic human value.
The Renaissance of a Forgotten Text
The path back to print for "Cyberselfish" began with a slow appreciation on used book platforms, where copies had once sold for three dollars—leaving sellers making more on shipping than on the text itself. As prices crept upward and European academics reached out, Borsook connected with Gil Durán. Following a piece by Steven Levy in Wired about the shifting politics of Silicon Valley, Durán published an impassioned public defense of Borsook on Bluesky, arguing that her early warnings were accurate and that her book deserved to be saved from obscurity.
The resulting partnership with Tin House brought the book back into print. Crucially, the publisher chose to leave the original text entirely untouched. Aside from a new introduction detailing its resurrection and Durán’s opening remarks, the book remains an unedited artifact of a specific time and place.
For young computer science students and engineers entering the tech industry today who reject the toxic political ideologies of prominent figures like Elon Musk or Peter Thiel, Borsook offers a mixture of empathy and uncertainty. While she worries about an economic landscape heavily dominated by artificial intelligence and military-industrial investments, she refuses to underestimate human ingenuity.
Whether these big companies can truly be reformed from within remains an open question, but Borsook maintains that the tech elite remain amoral enough to shift their alliances if the political winds change. Ultimately, she hopes that a new generation will find ways to fund appropriate technology and build alternative paths forward, far away from the dominance of the hyperscalers.
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