Historical Echo: When Chips Became the New Steel

empty formal interior, natural lighting through tall windows, wood paneling, institutional architecture, sense of history and permanence, marble columns, high ceilings, formal furniture, muted palette, a massive weathered steel beam fused mid-span with a glowing silicon spine, resting on a marble floor in an abandoned legislative chamber, sunlight streaming through tall arched windows covered in fine dust, long shadows stretching across cracked ceremonial rugs, the air thick with silence and legacy [Bria Fibo]
If semiconductor production becomes a pillar of geopolitical alignment, then the language of shared democratic values may increasingly serve as the architecture for controlled technological diffusion.
It was the Bessemer steel converter in the 1860s that first taught the world how a single invention could redraw the map of power—ushering in an era where nations with steel could build navies, railroads, and empires. Now, replace steel with silicon, and the pattern repeats: the nation—or alliance—that controls the means of producing the foundational material of its age commands the future. Just as Carnegie’s mills were geopolitical assets, so too are TSMC’s fabs. What’s striking is not that the U.S. is pressuring Taiwan to invest, but how seamlessly this is framed in the language of democracy and shared destiny—much like how the Marshall Plan was sold not as economic dominance, but as collective renewal. The real story isn’t tariffs or investment figures; it’s the re-emergence of industrial policy as statecraft. And just as CoCom quietly shaped the Cold War’s technological battlefield, today’s 'democratic supply chains' are laying the groundwork for the next era of controlled innovation—where progress is no longer global, but gated.[^1] —Marcus Ashworth