US Semiconductor Export Controls Threaten Global Tech Interdependence & Structural Power Imbalances

Indigenous and Global South perspectives frame semiconductor dependency as part of a broader extractive economy that prioritizes corporate profit over ecological and community well-being. Rare earth mining for chips—often in Indigenous territories—displaces communities and contaminates water sources, yet these costs are externalized in mainstream narratives. Traditional knowledge systems, such as Andean agricultural practices or African communal land tenure, offer models for decentralized, resilient technological infrastructure that resists extractivist logics.

The current US-China semiconductor standoff echoes historical patterns of technological embargoes, from the 1949 COCOM restrictions on Soviet bloc countries to Japan’s 1980s semiconductor trade wars with the US. These precedents reveal how export controls become tools of geopolitical coercion, often backfiring by accelerating the target’s self-sufficiency (e.g., China’s post-2018 'Made in China 2025' push). The 1973 oil crisis demonstrated how supply chain weaponization can trigger global fragmentation, a risk now materializing in semiconductor geopolitics.

In East Asia, technological sovereignty is tied to post-colonial nation-building, with Japan and South Korea leveraging state-led industrial policy to challenge Western dominance. African nations increasingly view semiconductor autonomy as a path to economic diversification, with Rwanda and Nigeria investing in fabrication hubs to avoid the 'resource curse.' Latin American countries, scarred by 20th-century dependency, are exploring regional chip alliances to counter bilateral coercion, drawing lessons from Mercosur’s failed attempts at economic integration.

Semiconductor supply chains are governed by Moore’s Law and the physics of miniaturization, but geopolitical interventions disrupt these scientific trajectories by fragmenting R&D and manufacturing. US export controls (e.g., on EUV lithography machines) rely on the assumption that China lacks the scientific capacity to innovate around restrictions, yet China’s advancements in alternative architectures (e.g., RISC-V, 3D chip stacking) challenge this premise. The scientific consensus warns that supply chain fragmentation increases costs, reduces innovation, and accelerates the 'splinternet' phenomenon in technology.

Artistic and spiritual traditions often frame technology as a double-edged sword—both a tool of liberation and oppression. In Chinese philosophy, the concept of 'wu wei' (effortless action) critiques the aggressive pursuit of technological dominance, while Indigenous worldviews in the Americas view chips as 'stones of the mind,' requiring ethical stewardship. Creative resistance, such as the 'chip art' movement in Taiwan, uses satire to expose the absurdity of supply chain nationalism, while African futurist literature (e.g., Nnedi Okorafor) imagines post-extractive technological societies.

Scenario modeling suggests that continued US-China semiconductor decoupling could lead to a bifurcated global tech ecosystem, with separate standards, protocols, and supply chains emerging by 2035. A 'tech cold war' scenario risks accelerating China’s self-sufficiency but also deepening global inequality, as poorer nations are priced out of advanced manufacturing. Conversely, a cooperative model—where nations share semiconductor R&D and manufacturing—could reduce costs by 30% and improve resilience, but requires dismantling current geopolitical rivalries.

Marginalized voices include Taiwanese engineers caught between US export controls and Chinese pressure, as well as Uyghur laborers in Xinjiang’s semiconductor supply chains, whose exploitation is obscured by corporate narratives. African policymakers and Indigenous leaders in the Congo Basin argue that true technological independence requires addressing the extractive roots of the industry, not just relocating fabrication plants. Women in semiconductor manufacturing—who face systemic discrimination in STEM fields—are rarely centered in discussions about supply chain resilience, despite their critical roles in assembly and testing.