I think it’s a compelling question…

At first glance, according to Juniper, the answer seems like an obvious “yes.” Our world feels like it’s been plucked from the pages of Neuromancer, with its omnipresent technology, fractured power structures, and a pervasive sense of surveillance. Yet, I don’t think it’s a direct mapping of the dystopia they projected. It feels like the vision has evolved, subtly blending cyberpunk’s dark edges with the mainstream.

In classic cyberpunk, technology is often portrayed as a double-edged sword—liberating in some ways but soul-crushing in others. Think of Blade Runner’s dark cityscapes, where towering corporations loom over fragmented human lives. Our world does mirror some of this. The pervasive nature of the internet, social media, AI, and corporate dominance is very real. We’re often glued to our phones, communicating through virtual avatars (even with people in the same room).

There’s a sense of alienation lurking about…

What the cyberpunk writers couldn’t quite foresee was the allure of today’s tech. Devices have become sleek, desirable, and fashionable. They’ve been woven into the fabric of our identity, unlike the clunky tech of cyberpunk visions. Our dependence on technology might still be dystopian in the sense of control and surveillance, but it doesn’t feel dark—it feels… glossy and aspirational. We’ve domesticated dystopia, made it shiny and friendly, even as it controls us.

Cyberpunk’s megacorps ruled over cities like deities, omnipotent and untouchable. While that image has merit in today’s tech titans like Amazon, Google, and Meta, the landscape is more fragmented than the classic dystopian model suggested. Yes, corporations wield immense power over data, privacy, and consumption patterns, but the rise of decentralised networks and cryptocurrencies has introduced wildcards into the game.

Instead of a monolithic control structure, we see micro-realities. People operate in different silos of information and ideology, each governed by its own influencers or digital fiefdoms. There’s a certain chaotic freedom within this fragmented corporate dominance, but it’s hard to tell who’s really pulling the strings. The old cyberpunk vision of top-down domination has mutated into something both more subtle and complex.

Cyberpunk’s heroes often lived on society’s fringes, hacking systems, rebelling against oppressive structures, and operating within digital black markets. In many ways, this spirit still thrives. Think of the hacker communities, crypto enthusiasts, and advocates for digital privacy. Movements like Anonymous or Wikileaks fit the cyberpunk mould, but with today’s tech evolving so quickly, the lines between rebel and conformist blur.

What’s fascinating is how the counterculture has shifted. The cyberpunk rebel once fought from the outside, with a sense of desperation or hopelessness. Today’s “hackers” can be entrepreneurs, operating within the system while pushing against its boundaries. Subversion has become commodified, and dissent often feels like just another consumer choice. We’ve got edge, but it’s Instagrammable.

If there’s one thing that cyberpunk nailed, it’s the creeping pervasiveness of surveillance. The future it described, where privacy is a quaint relic, is pretty much our reality. Data harvesting, facial recognition, and digital footprints make it near impossible to operate outside of the system. But here’s the twist—most of us accept it. We trade privacy for convenience without blinking. In the cyberpunk world, surveillance was an omnipresent threat, something to avoid or hack around. In our world, we invite it in, giving away data in exchange for entertainment, connection, and ease.

It’s not just about being watched—it’s about being visible. The digital panopticon that cyberpunk writers feared has evolved into something stranger: a reality where people willingly curate their lives for the pleasure and consumption of others. Instead of resisting surveillance, we participate in it.

So, are we living in a post-cyberpunk world?

In a way, yes. We’re in a world where the cyberpunk dream has been realised, but not in the way those stories suggested. The gritty, neon dystopia imagined by Gibson, Ridley Scott, and others has unfolded, but it’s not the world of outlaws and rebels—it’s a world where we’ve made peace with the dystopia, integrated it into daily life, and dressed it up with a smile.

What’s most chilling isn’t that the cyberpunk future arrived; it’s that we don’t even recognise it as dystopia anymore. The fusion of tech, surveillance, corporate power, and fragmented realities have all seeped into our lives so seamlessly that the dark vision has become mundane. We’ve normalised the weirdness, celebrated the corporate power structure, and embraced the technology that simultaneously frees and binds us.

We may not have the flying cars or chrome-plated streets, but we are undeniably living in the post-cyberpunk world. The neon lights are still there, just hidden behind the blue glow of our screens.