L'heure des prédateurs Review: Disturbing but Essential

Giuliano da Empoli's L'heure des prédateurs (The Hour of the Predators) arrives as a slim but devastating indictment of our current political and technological moment. This is not a comfortable read, nor does it pretend to be. The Italian-Swiss political advisor and author of the acclaimed The Mage of the Kremlin delivers what amounts to a philosophical autopsy of Western democracy, conducted with the precision of a Machiavellian observer and the moral weight of a genuine insider.

Quick Verdict

This book is worth reading if you want to understand how power actually operates in 2024—but only if you can stomach the conclusion that we're already losing. Da Empoli doesn't offer solutions; he offers clarity. That distinction matters enormously.

What This Book Actually Does

Unlike conventional political analysis, L'heure des prédateurs refuses the safety of academic distance. Da Empoli has actually met these people. He's walked the corridors of the UN, sat in the Ritz-Carlton with Saudi Arabia's Mohammed bin Salman, and observed the peculiar ecosystem where autocrats and tech billionaires now operate as a unified force.

The book's central thesis is deliberately provocative: we've entered an era where the old rules no longer apply. Where once institutions and law constrained power, now we have a convergence of ruthless political actors (Trump, MBS, various Eastern European strongmen) allied with tech titans (Musk, Zuckerberg) who operate as if they already inhabit a different world. Da Empoli compares these modern power brokers to the Borgias—medieval Italian families who pursued dominion through shamelessness and tactical violence. The comparison sticks precisely because it's historically grounded.

The author employs an unusual narrative strategy, deliberately rejecting conventional policy analysis in favor of what he calls "images rather than concepts." He frames his observations through the metaphor of an Aztec scribe witnessing the collapse of one world and the emergence of another. This isn't mere stylistic flourish; it's a methodological choice that allows him to capture the texture of power transitions without getting bogged down in the false precision of think-tank language.

The Sections That Haunt You

The most chilling portions examine artificial intelligence and its apparent uncontrollability. Da Empoli argues that AI represents a genuine rupture in human history—not because of the technology itself, but because it's being developed and deployed by people who have already abandoned the pretense of democratic accountability. Tech billionaires, he suggests, aren't villains in a traditional sense; they're simply operating according to a logic that transcends national borders and democratic constraints. They're already living in the post-democratic world they're building for the rest of us.

The section on social media's role in dismantling democratic institutions is equally sobering. Unlike Al Gore's earlier optimism about the internet as a "marketplace of ideas," da Empoli describes a reality where platforms have become tools of systematic chaos. Confusion, he argues, is now a deliberate strategy. Autocrats and tech billionaires have discovered that democracy thrives on shared factual ground—destroy that, and you destroy the system itself.

One passage captures the book's essential warning: "The new American president is at the head of a motley procession of shameless autocrats, tech conquistadors, reactionaries and conspiracy theorists, all spoiling for a fight. An era of limitless violence lies ahead of us, and as in Leonardo's time, the defenders of freedom seem singularly unprepared for the battle to come."

Where This Book Succeeds

Da Empoli's insider perspective is genuinely rare. Most political commentary comes from journalists, academics, or think-tank analysts observing from a distance. This author has been in the rooms where power operates. That proximity lends credibility and specificity that generic political analysis cannot match.

The book is also refreshingly honest about its own limitations. Da Empoli doesn't pretend to offer solutions because he doesn't believe solutions exist at this scale. The world is changing, he argues, and not for the better. This pessimism, rather than undermining the book's value, actually enhances it. We're drowning in optimistic self-help and policy prescriptions; what we need is someone willing to say: this is actually happening, and we're losing.

The historical parallels—to the Borgias, to Leonardo da Vinci's era of warfare, to moments of civilizational transition—provide intellectual scaffolding that elevates the book beyond contemporary journalism. Da Empoli writes with the hauteur of a moralist, which means he's willing to make sweeping judgments that most contemporary writers avoid.

What Doesn't Quite Work

The book's brevity, while often an asset, occasionally becomes a liability. Some readers report that the work feels disjointed—jumping between UN corridors, Saudi palaces, and tech campuses without always establishing clear connections. The Aztec scribe framing device, while conceptually interesting, sometimes feels more decorative than functional.

More significantly, the book's refusal to offer even provisional solutions will frustrate readers seeking actionable insights. If you approach L'heure des prédateurs hoping for a roadmap to defend democracy or regulate tech billionaires, you'll close it disappointed. Da Empoli's thesis is that such solutions may no longer be available at the scale required. That's a legitimate position, but it's not what everyone wants from a political book.

The writing style, while often brilliant, occasionally lapses into aphoristic density that can feel overwrought. When every paragraph aims to be profound, some inevitably fall short. There's also a European intellectual sensibility at work here that may feel distant to readers more accustomed to American political discourse.

Who Should Read This

Perfect for: Anyone seriously engaged with politics, technology, and power dynamics. Readers who've found themselves increasingly uneasy about the direction of democratic institutions. People who read The Mage of the Kremlin and want more of da Empoli's particular brand of insider analysis. Those interested in how AI and social media are reshaping political possibilities. Readers who appreciated the dark realism of books like The Assault on Reason but found them insufficiently pessimistic.

Will likely frustrate: Readers seeking optimistic solutions or prescriptive policy recommendations. Those who prefer traditional academic political analysis. Anyone uncomfortable with sweeping historical comparisons or philosophical frameworks. People looking for a balanced, "both sides" examination of contemporary politics.

The Translation Question

One practical note: L'heure des prédateurs has been translated into English as The Hour of the Predators, though availability varies by region. The French and Italian editions remain more widely available, which has limited the book's reach in English-speaking markets. This is unfortunate, as the book's arguments deserve the widest possible audience.

Final Verdict

This is a necessary book for understanding our moment, even—or especially—if you find its conclusions deeply unsettling. Da Empoli writes with the clarity of someone who has observed power up close and drawn conclusions he'd rather not have reached. L'heure des prédateurs review after review confirms that readers finish it changed, unsettled, and more aware of the actual mechanics of contemporary power.

The book doesn't offer comfort. It offers something rarer: lucidity about what's actually happening beneath the surface of our political theater. Whether that's worth the psychological cost of reading it depends on your appetite for uncomfortable truths.

Final Score: 8/10 — A vital, unsettling analysis of power in the 2020s that sacrifices some structural clarity for the sake of philosophical depth and insider authenticity.