It’s once more springtime for America doomers, those who believe the United States will soon lose its global top-dog status. Much of this is in reaction to the poorly considered ramblings of President Trump. The Economist, for example, suggests that “the actual land of the free” has moved from America to Europe, with the Continent epitomizing “moral norms” on the climate, free trade, and rule of law.
These prophecies — or dreams — of America’s downfall conflate the United States, a people and place, with the US government. The difference between the two things isn’t well-understood, especially in Europe. Whoever controls the White House and Congress has an effect, to be sure, but the true power of America lies not with its elected leaders, but in the ambitions of its people, its remarkable physical endowment, and the constraints of its constitutional order (Trump is learning about that last — to his chagrin).
Great empires don’t fall easily. Often, they rebound from the worst setbacks. Rome suffered under the misrule of Caligula, Nero, and Commodus, but resurged under more enlightened leaders well until the fifth century AD. In the East, the Roman imperium lasted for almost a millennium longer than that. Britain, too, didn’t fade after losing American Revolutionary War; the country simply moved on, incorporating much of the world into its imperial system for the next 150 years.
Likewise, the United States emerged as the victor in the Cold War a couple of decades after the disaster of Vietnam, the social upheavals of the Sixties, and mass deindustrialisation.
Today, Europeans, having permanently lost their empires, may be tempted to console themselves with thoughts of inevitable American decline. Hence, the new talk about Europe being the best place for the “pursuit of happiness”. Yet in the real world, Europeans are far from happy. As Gallup International found in 2022, the world’s top-five most pessimistic populations are all in Europe, including Italy and France; others like Britain are similarly distressed.
This may reflect the fact that Europe has consistently lagged behind the United States in adjusting to changing economic trends. Over the past 15 years, the eurozone economy grew about 6%, measured in dollars, compared with 82% for the United States, according to International Monetary Fund data.
To view this another way, consider that the most powerful economy on the Continent, Germany, is barely bigger than that of my adopted home state, California. America’s industrial giants have faded, victims of their own incompetence and shortsightedness in Washington. But they were replaced in large part by aggressive new firms, something Europe hasn’t produced in a long time.
Two decades ago, one could legitimately see Europe as a determinative third force on the global stage. But this is no longer the case. The most obvious weakness is in technology: of the top 50 tech firms, only three are based on the Continent. The rest of the list is dominated largely by the United States, including in artificial intelligence, with China coming in a firm and ascendant second. This gap may widen as massive new chip and computer plants open up in Texas and Arizona, steps encouraged under both Joe Biden and Trump.
The overall entrepreneurial gap extends far deeper than tech. To wit, the United States within the last 50 years created “from scratch” companies with market caps over $10 billion at five times the rate of the European Union, according to MIT researcher Andrew McAfee. American entrepreneurs have flourished in the past decade, and self-employment has grown, while in Europe entrepreneurship has declined. Europe still possesses great intellectual resources, but the polices adopted by the Continent’s elites seem designed to guarantee further decline.
For one thing, the EU and Britain appear unwilling to curb millions of unvetted migrants, mostly from developing countries, many of whom find it difficult to integrate into European society. Some of these newcomers have undermined the safety and social cohesion of cities like Marseilles, Paris, London, Berlin, and Malmo; many are unlikely to contribute more in taxes than they draw in public benefits. Meanwhile, European governments remain wedded to “net-zero” lunacy, burdening European firms and consumers with high prices, while robbing them of reliability, as demonstrated by the recent blackout in Spain and Portugal.
What about competition at the other end of the Pacific, from China?
Much digital ink has been spilled on how Trump’s offensive comments and hyper-nationalism play into the hands of Beijing. And to be sure, China (along with India) matters far more in world economics, politics, and military power than an increasingly debilitated Europe. But recent turbulence notwithstanding, the American imperium is more than up to the task of rivalry with the Middle Kingdom.
China is a dangerous but deeply troubled dragon, anxious not to occupy lands but to control them as vassals. Given the nature of the Beijing regime, it’s hard to get accurate information on the overall economy. Still, despite its impressive accomplishments, the country faces major challenges. These include a massive property crash, demographic decline, and growing disengagement, particularly among the young, from the Communist system, much as occurred in the late stages of the Soviet Union.
After pushing for a “one-child” policy for decades, China has reversed course. But the Chinese people haven’t started pumping out babies. The country, which eschews immigrants and foreigners, is now faced with looming demographic decline. By 2050, notes demographer Wendell Cox, China is expected to have 60 million fewer people under age 15, a loss approximately the size of Italy’s total population. The country also suffers rising unemployment and outmigration by its young, educated people.
“The American imperium is more than up to the task of rivalry with the Middle Kingdom.”
Trump’s much-dissed tariff policy threatens a China that views exports as its savior. Even without Trumpian levies, the Communist Party’s assault on property rights and the rule of law drives foreign companies to reconsider their tech investments. Private-equity barons are finding it difficult to get their funds out. Once-common projections that Chinese aggregate output could surpass America’s as soon as 2028 are being readjusted to 2036; they may never come true.
Could Beijing tip the scales by allying itself with a Europe alienated by Trump? It’s possible, but it seems highly unlikely. After all, the Continent can offer little in terms of natural resources — China’s primary interest. As for intellectual property, Beijing has other, more underhanded means for getting at those, as American firms have learned over the past couple of decades. To be sure, Tuscany and Provence may lure tourists and second-home buyers from Shanghai. Great European universities will play along, too, as long as they get students paying a full ride.
But combining a declining Europe with Chinese power will not help mitigate the fundamental weaknesses of either party. A Europe that is fast sacrificing its industrial base on the green altar can’t supply a secondary manufacturing hub to the Chinese, who anyway prefer their own cheaper and more pliant workers. (However, China — the world’s surveillance super-state — could help European elites clamp down on dissent even more tightly than they have in recent years.)
Beholding these realities, many in the European media still view Trump as the primary threat to democracy. Like many Americans, I am disgusted by Trump’s lack of respect for constitutional niceties, much less his lack of personal decency. But his hardheadedness may be the only way to keep America and the West from collapse. Amid the challenge from China, a foreign policy based on “principles” would be subordinated to a stronger and less virtue-seeking will. Liberalism can only be preserved by an America that is less progressive Kumbaya, and more closely shaped by frank power politics.
The better path, then, is a Europe that still looks to America, warts and all. Despite the protests (or wish-casting) of the European elites and academics, the United States continues to receive a remarkable, increasing surge in new investment. The United States, now the world’s biggest exporter of liquid natural gas, could help solve Europe’s energy crisis, while reducing the trade imbalances that so enrage Trump.
Of course, some Europeans might prefer a courteous kowtow to the Russians or the mullahs to enriching brash Texans or pleasing the Donald. Yet the disdain of continental elites works against Europe’s long-term future. America’s vitality is clearly not spent. You won’t find it in DC, but in ethnic neighborhoods, like Little Saigon, not far from my California home, where Vietnamese boat people have in five decades created a prosperous community. Or in the fast-growing New South. Or in the old fields of the Permian Basin, which by itself represents the world’s fifth-largest producer of oil and gas.
America’s system, with its checks and balances, may not be perfect, but it remains the only potential counterweight to China and her allied nest of authoritarian regimes. America’s continent-spanning empire is more than MAGA or its enemies in the liberal establishment. Its power derives from the American people’s energy, their entrepreneurship, and unwavering willingness to try something new.
