In The Hour of the Predator (L’heure des prédateurs), Giuliano da Empoli delivers a haunting exploration of modern power. Blending political insight with a sharp, almost cinematic narrative style, the author exposes how today’s global stage is dominated not by institutions or ideologies, but by “predators” tech titans, populist leaders, and media manipulators who thrive in chaos.
Da Empoli, who previously earned international attention with The Wizard of the Kremlin and The Engineers of Chaos, returns to a familiar theme: how technology and spectacle have reshaped politics. Here, he paints a grim picture of a world where algorithms and charisma have replaced reason and diplomacy. His analysis moves fluidly from the boardrooms of Silicon Valley to the gilded halls of Riyadh’s Ritz-Carlton, where deals, power struggles, and calculated shocks define a new political order.
One of the book’s greatest strengths lies in its anthropological perspective. Da Empoli portrays modern leaders as predators in the wild cold, calculating, and morally indifferent. They do not rely on ideology or tradition but on control, perception, and manipulation. Using the tools of data, artificial intelligence, and social media, they distort reality itself, feeding instability that they alone know how to navigate. The result is a chilling meditation on power as performance and politics as psychological warfare.
As reviewer Boudewijn noted, The Hour of the Predator forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths. The author does not offer comfort or solutions; instead, he holds up a mirror to a world where democracy is quietly dissolving under the weight of its own contradictions. For those who once believed, like Al Gore in The Assault on Reason, that the internet would empower citizens and enlighten discourse, Da Empoli’s portrait feels like an obituary for that dream. The web, he argues, has become a stage for chaos rather than reason a domain where attention, not truth, is the currency of power.
Reviewer J TC, however, points out that the book sometimes feels fragmented compared to Da Empoli’s earlier works. Some chapters appear loosely connected, as though pieces from different essays were stitched together. Still, the thematic thread remains powerful: humanity has entered an era where influence no longer flows from governments or parliaments but from those who command information and emotion. These new predators tech billionaires, autocrats, and social media architects share an instinctive understanding that confusion breeds control.
Author and reader Wim Oosterlinck described the book as one that “plants an image in your mind that you cannot erase.” Indeed, Da Empoli’s writing is both philosophical and visceral. Through vivid anecdotes such as the chilling story of Saudi crown prince Mohammed bin Salman detaining his nation’s elites in a luxury hotel to consolidate power the author captures the ruthless theater of modern geopolitics. His tone is sharp, his comparisons daring, and his conclusion unmistakably bleak: the traditional guardians of democracy have surrendered the stage to the engineers of chaos.
The Hour of the Predator is not an optimistic book. It does not offer easy answers or moral closure. Instead, it reveals a world where manipulation, spectacle, and self-interest have become the engines of global governance. Da Empoli’s voice is that of a modern-day scribe chronicling a civilization in transformation one where the boundaries between politics, technology, and propaganda have dissolved.
This is a dark, intellectually provocative read for anyone seeking to understand how power operates in the twenty-first century. It will disturb you, challenge you, and change the way you view the relationship between media, politics, and technology.
