Human societies, much like living organisms, are far more than just the sum of their individual parts. They are emergent phenomena, complex systems born from the countless interactions of individual thoughts and beliefs. These interconnected networks of ideas are in constant flux, shaping and being shaped by the lives of people within them. Every society is fundamentally defined by a dominant ideology acting as a collective worldview that emerges directly from its unique historical and material conditions.
The ideology encodes the fundamental values, norms, and beliefs that guide how we perceive, decide, and interact within society. It's a dynamic system of assumptions and values that guides the choices we make and the actions we take. Think of it as a cognitive lens through which we interpret events, evaluate information, and form opinions, shaping our understanding of what is possible, what is desirable, and what is just.
Ideologies are, in turn, rooted in a society's material conditions, especially its economic structure. The way goods and services are produced, distributed, and consumed — what's often called the “mode of production” — shapes the dominant ideology. This relationship between our material reality and our shared beliefs can be understood through the concept of base and superstructure: the economic foundation (the base) gives rise to the cultural, political, and legal institutions (the superstructure). While the latter can influence the former, it is the economic base that plays the dominant role in defining our collective worldview.
Thus, the stability of any social system is directly built upon the material basis of a sound economy that provides for the needs of a critical mass of its people. A breakdown in material conditions signifies a rupture in the unspoken social contract, inevitably leading to a crisis of ideology. When daily life becomes unbearable for too many, the collective beliefs that once held society together begin to unravel.
Consider the collapse of the Soviet Union. The loss of faith in the socialist project stemmed largely from the lack of visible improvements in the standard of living. The disillusionment with the system paved the way for a counter-revolution and the restoration of capitalist relations. China, on the other hand, managed to avoid this fate by introducing market reforms in the 1980s. These reforms stimulated rapid economic growth, which in turn rejuvenated belief in the system by demonstrating its adaptability and ability to improve the standard of living for its citizens. These examples clearly illustrate how the perceived success or failure of an ideology is inextricably tied to the material well-being it delivers.
Now, let's look at a different ideological challenge. Capitalism, by its very nature, is an individualistic ideology, prioritizing competition as its driving force. Such inherent focus on individual gain offers little for people to rally around collectively, effectively atomizing society rather than unifying it. Critically, when material conditions decline, competitive social relations harden into a zero-sum mentality, leading to the collapse of shared values and a coherent collective purpose.
Today, if you look at the media, journalists and politicians often talk about figures like Donald Trump as if they were the fundamental agents of history, or even sole architects of their societies. Yet, they are primarily expressions of the prevalent ideology, themselves products of the material base. Their rise reflects currents within society that are shaped by underlying conditions and beliefs, not merely personal will.
When the Soviet system collapsed, no one could foresee the extent of the upheaval and suffering it would entail for the former Soviet republics. Communism was more than just an economic organization; it was a belief system that structured the Soviet conception of society. The dislocation of belief would lead to psychological disorganization that crippled society far more severely than mere economic disruption. We are reaching a similar sort of situation in the West today. The military and economic failures of the West are translating into a profound dislocation of the beliefs that have organized Western social life since the end of the Second World War. As our material conditions falter and the cracks in our dominant ideology widen, we too face a growing crisis of cohesion.
The Spiral of Disillusionment
While we'll focus our discussion here on the United States, it’s important to note that similar trends are also visible in most Western countries. Pinpointing short-term events is notoriously difficult, but the medium and long-term trajectory for the West, particularly the United States, seems abundantly clear. We are, in essence, witnessing the early stages of a decline, and we must be prepared for even more dramatic developments ahead.
The core argument, as established, is that a society's stability is inextricably linked to its material well-being and the collective ideology it fosters. When material conditions deteriorate, the social contract frays, and the very beliefs that bind a society together begin to unravel. This isn't a gentle slide, but a self-reinforcing downward spiral where the loss of faith in the system itself becomes a catalyst for its accelerating decay. Looking at the United States today, we see countless indicators of such a breakdown.
This unravelling begins subtly, yet inexorably, in the everyday lives of ordinary people. You'll notice it first in the minor irritations: simple necessities becoming a little more expensive each day. Then, the squeeze tightens: homes and apartments begin to shrink, reflecting an economy that can no longer provide adequately. For the working class, the shift is stark: work hours lengthen, yet pay decreases, and the very concept of job security evaporates. People cling to clothing longer, repair less, and replace rarely. The material degradation is palpable, a constant reminder that the system is failing its citizens.
As living conditions degrade, so too does the social fabric. People find themselves seeing family and friends less, and in a chilling erosion of community, begin to care less about them. Daily, standards for everything from work, to food, to relationships are incrementally lowered.
Fewer people are getting married, and even fewer are choosing to have children, reflecting a loss of hope for the future. The trend is a pragmatic adaptation to a changing landscape where the soaring costs of housing and child-rearing make starting a family a significant hurdle. Such a calculated response has led to 11.8 million fewer births over the past 17 years than would have occurred if earlier fertility rates had been maintained, signaling a fundamental change in the American family structure.
Whatever aspirations people once held fade into distant memory, leaving only the crushing weight of debt and the relentless grind of poverty. These are the tangible ways that ideological erosion starts to manifest, where the collective vision for a better future collapses under the weight of present hardship.
Such pervasive public disaffection, born from material decline, breeds a toxic political climate ripe for opportunism. Instead of acknowledging the root causes of the widespread suffering, politicians seize on the general malaise, offering shallow promises and hollow slogans. They play to the public's frustrations, scapegoating convenient targets, but meticulously avoid any discussion that would necessitate painful, yet necessary, course corrections. Each successive election cycle, fueled by increasingly opportunistic rhetoric, sees the country sink into an even worse state, as underlying issues fester and compound.
The failure of leadership to address the material reality further erodes public trust, intensifying the disillusionment. A climate of deepening disaffection empowers even more radical opportunists, who can leverage the despair of the public to game the system for their own benefit, leading to further deterioration of living conditions. It's a vicious cycle that perpetuates a political landscape where accountability is absent, and the urgent need for systemic change is consistently ignored, leading to a relentless downward trajectory.
As the situation deteriorates, sectarian tensions, whether based on economic class, geography, or cultural divides, become increasingly prominent. The collective frustration, unable to find an outlet in constructive political action, begins to fracture the society from within. Inevitably, these tensions explode into violent outbreaks, as the social contract fully ruptures and order strains under the weight of accumulated grievances. In fact, a model developed by sociologist Jack Goldstone and complexity scientist Peter Turchin predicts the US is headed for another civil war due to trends that began in the 1980s, including inequality, selfish elites, and polarization.
A critical aspect of this spiral is the uneven distribution of its effects. While growing numbers of working-class individuals experience the devastating consequences of decline personally, for those in positions of power — the policymakers, political elites, and the oligarchs — nothing has genuinely changed. Their insulation from the daily grind creates a dangerous lag between problems occurring and the leadership becoming aware of their true severity. Things must degrade quite significantly, reaching a critical mass of suffering, before those at the top even begin to grasp the depth of the crisis.
The further along the collapse progresses, the exponentially more difficult it becomes to arrest it. Halting and reversing these perilous trends demands an honest acknowledgement of the root causes of the problems and a willingness to take genuine corrective action. However, the very political climate fostered by this spiral of disillusionment — one dominated by short-sighted opportunism and a refusal to face uncomfortable truths — precludes effective policy from being enacted. The system, in essence, becomes trapped in its own feedback loop of decline, where the conditions that demand a solution are simultaneously the conditions that prevent one.
Consider something as fundamental as infant mortality. Children under one-year-old are the most fragile beings in a society, and their chances of survival are the most sensitive indicator of social cohesion and effectiveness. The persistently high American infant mortality rate is a clear indication that, for all its wealth, America is not doing well. This isn't an isolated anomaly; similar trends are emerging elsewhere, with the infant mortality rate increasing across the EU. These statistics are screams from the foundational cracks in our social fabric.
This decline in social well-being is deeply connected to a parallel destruction of America's industrial base. Particularly since China's entry into the World Trade Organization in 2001, the United States has struggled to maintain competitiveness. Closing factories reflect an underlying shift in the nature of the economy and, consequently, our societal priorities. A telling symptom of this shift is the alarming statistic that only 192,474 of American students pursue engineering degrees our of 3 million total degrees, a mere 6.4%. Not only that, but only 37% of students begin an engineering career after completing an engineering degree. The number of engineers should be considered a flagship figure, which acts as a proxy for technicians, skilled workers, and a general industrial capacity — the very engines of a robust material base.
This erosion of human capital is mirrored in the raw output of the American economy. The hollowing out is so advanced that manufacturing now constitutes a mere 10% of the nation's GDP, dwarfed by the financial and service sectors. Nowhere is this decline more starkly illustrated than in the production of foundational materials like steel. According to the latest data, the United States produced 6.7 million metric tons of steel in March 2025. While this figure may seem large in isolation, it is comparable to Russia's output of 5.8 million metric tons — a nation whose economy is less than one-tenth the size of America's in nominal terms. This near-parity in a critical strategic commodity highlights that the United States no longer possesses the overwhelming industrial advantage that once defined its global power.
Hand-in-hand with this industrial erosion we see a long-term decline in educational standards and intellectual potential. The weakening of the intellectual infrastructure is intimately related to the breakdown of our social contract, the erosion of a collective vision, and the increasing atomization that stems from the prevailing noeliberal relations. As the U.S. economy transitioned into an increasingly financialized stage of capitalism, opportunities shifted dramatically. Fewer people are now pursuing science and engineering because there are simply fewer employment opportunities in universities, factories, and other core industries. As industry became increasingly outsourced, the job market has predominantly moved towards sectors such as the service industry, finance, and entertainment.
Tracing this decline in industry and education directly to the structural shifts within our economic base allows us to assert a simple truth that current challenges facing the United States are not short-term, reversible phenomena. They represent a fundamental unravelling of the material conditions and the ideology that stems from them.
Defeat’s Domino Effect
While every social upheaval has primarily endogenous causes, stemming from internal dynamics and contradictions, a striking thing in history is the frequency with which revolutions are triggered by military defeats. These external blows act as severe psychological shocks, shattering public confidence and exposing the fragility of the existing order. The Russian Revolution of 1905, for instance, was preceded by a humiliating military defeat against Japan. A decade later, the Russian Revolution of 1917 followed on the heels of devastating losses against Germany in World War I. Similarly, the German Revolution of 1918 was directly preceded by its defeat in the same conflict. Even the French Revolution, often viewed as more endogenous, was preceded in 1763 by France's comprehensive defeat in the Seven Years' War, a major blow that stripped the Ancien Régime of its colonial empire and much of its prestige. More recently, the collapse of the Soviet system, though internally driven, followed closely on the heels of its withdrawal from Afghanistan.
Today, the United States appears to be navigating a similar convergence of internal decline and a string of external defeats with the ongoing conflict in Ukraine poised to deliver yet another significant blow. Beyond the battlefield, Americans are faced with the fragility of their military industry, a bedrock of national pride and power. Even those within the Pentagon are now keenly aware that a major limit to their action is the constrained capacity of the military-industrial complex. It is an ideological wound, challenging deeply held beliefs about American exceptionalism and power.
The war in Ukraine was a catalyst. When Russia, a major commodity exporter, was cut off from SWIFT, nations faced a choice: submit to US financial dominance or assert economic sovereignty. Most significant non-Western powers chose sovereignty, rapidly fragmenting the US-centered global financial system. The world is now split between the G7 and BRICS, with BRICS economically surpassing the G7 using PPP measure. Their surging trade largely bypasses Western control via direct currency swaps and China's CIPS. Dedollarization, once a fringe idea, is now a tangible reality.
Thus, it should be no surprise that the United States is undeniably suffering an economic defeat in its trade war with China. The aggressive tariff policy, initially touted as a decisive measure, had to be quickly rolled back, exposing the limits of America's financial power and its economic vulnerability. These painful failures, both military and economic, act as powerful accelerators, intensifying the pre-existing loss of faith in the system. They dismantle the very notion of unquestioned American superiority and competence, feeding directly into the spiralling disillusionment.
It is from this confluence of internal decay and external defeats that we can begin to understand the unprecedented situation facing the United States today. The ongoing experience, even if its precise unfolding remains uncertain, is a moment when the old world order is dying while a new order struggles painfully to be born. Internally, within American society, this manifests as a bitter struggle against universities, against scientific culture, against policies of inclusion, against global trade, and against immigration – all symptoms of a society at war with itself, desperately trying to reassert a fading ideological coherence in the face of profound material and psychological shocks. The defeats abroad are merely mirrors reflecting the deeper cracks already forming within.
The Void Within
As history, particularly the collapse of the USSR, demonstrates, the breakdown of a system is as much a mental and ideological phenomenon as it is an economic one. What is palpably collapsing in the contemporary West, and first and foremost in the United States, is not merely economic dominance but the very belief system that animated it. The triumphalist narratives that once defined Western exceptionalism are now crumbling. Yet, as in any revolutionary process, we do not yet know what new belief will emerge victorious from the process of decomposition.
An atomized society, stripped of a coherent collective vision, inevitably descends into anxiety rather than a state of freedom and well-being. Individuals within such a fragmented society grapple desperately with fundamental questions: What does it mean to be human? What is the meaning of our existence, our shared endeavours? Such existential void acts as a fertile ground for nihilism, which manifests in many forms. We see it in the will to undermine science and universities, in the virulent attacks on immigration, or in the disordered violence evident even in the application of American protectionist strategies. The imposition of tariffs against China, for instance, seemingly forgetting that many American goods are manufactured there, is not merely economic stupidity; it is essentially an act of nihilism, a destructive impulse that prioritizes fracturing over function.
The historical model of the English and American family, rooted in its nuclear and individualistic structure, has long emphasized the freedom of the will. Yet, the concept of Anglo-American nuclear family provides very little inherent structuring for national cohesion. While its flexibility with each generation succeeding the previous by separating from it may have contributed to the rapid adaptation and plasticity of these societies, this very strength has now become a liability.
For alongside, or perhaps above, this individualistic family structure, there is an undeniable need for social cohesion. There must be a positive vision for the future, a purpose that inspires society to strive for collective goals that transcend day-to-day individual survival. This essential structuring factor, this shared purpose, has conspicuously disappeared from the Western world model today.
The Anglo-American world is accelerating towards increasing atomization, and such fragmentation can only lead to an inevitable unraveling of social and economic stability. Without a shared vision to unite a society, it becomes impossible to tackle large-scale problems that can only be solved through societal-level action.
America, in its self-conception, is a civic nation, theoretically united by an attachment to its constitution and its founding values. However, as social cohesion erodes, burgeoning political polarization is leading to a regressive pulverization of society into atomized groups that are increasingly at odds with one another. We are only at the beginning of an accelerating decline, a fall that promises to test the very foundations of Western belief system.


> those in positions of power — the policymakers, political elites, and the oligarchs — nothing has genuinely changed. Their insulation from the daily grind creates a dangerous lag between problems occurring and the leadership becoming aware of their true severity. Things must degrade quite significantly, reaching a critical mass of suffering, before those at the top even begin to grasp the depth of the crisis.
I don't completely agree with this part. They have people working under them who keep them informed and give trillions of dollars to intelligence agencies to keep them informed of what's happening domestically and abroad.