This is part 2 of a series that started with Running on Empty: America’s Fragile Middle Class. Part 3 will examine possible fixes.
Before the Fall
In September 2008, the sight of Lehman Brothers employees carrying boxes out of their headquarters became a symbol of the global financial meltdown. Families lost homes, retirement savings vanished, and the illusion of endless growth collapsed. Economist Hyman Minsky had long warned that stability often breeds risky behavior until the system breaks. Today, similar warning signs—too much borrowing, risky bets, and leaders focused more on spin than substance—are flashing again. Despite Trump’s claims of a booming economy, the financial sector looks fragile. His policies of deregulation and political pressure on regulators add fuel to the fire, making the next crisis potentially worse.
Leverage and the Debt Overhang
Borrowing fuels financial booms, but it also triggers busts. In 2008, too much debt left households and banks vulnerable. Currently, the U.S. economy is experiencing similar stress. The federal deficit is around 7% of GDP—more than double its 2008 level. Since 2021, interest payments on the national debt have nearly tripled, now second only to Social Security in the budget. Within ten years, debt service could consume a third of tax revenue, compared to less than 15% in the 1990s and approximately 20% before the last crash. Leaders tolerate this imbalance because voters prefer tax cuts and spending increases, but they punish anyone who tries to address deficits.
Big companies are feeling the pressure too. Some major banks are approaching the same risky levels they had before the 2008 financial crisis. Citigroup and Bank of America, for example, have thin equity cushions. It’s like buying a house with barely any down payment—if prices dip, you owe more than the house is worth. Just like before, the U.S. is stacking debt on top of debt. The problem now extends well beyond traditional banks.
Shadow Banking and Fringe Finance
Private lending has grown rapidly, but it remains largely outside the reach of regulators. These hidden channels—known as shadow banking because they operate outside traditional banking regulations—resemble the complex financial products that contributed to the 2008 economic crash. Unlike regular banks, private lenders face fewer regulations, allowing companies to borrow heavily with minimal oversight. Problems often go unnoticed until they spill over. Trump’s deregulatory push has widened this gap, dismantling rules designed to contain risk.
Hedge funds and private equity firms now rival traditional banks. Private equity often buys companies using borrowed money, then cuts costs to boost short-term profits. If things go wrong, workers lose jobs, communities lose employers, and taxpayers end up covering the losses. Supporters claim this makes companies more efficient; in practice, it shifts risk onto workers and the public. Trump’s effort to make the U.S. a crypto hub adds another layer of risk. Crypto platforms let people borrow large sums with little oversight, making them unstable. Once prices fall, the entire system can unravel.
The lesson from 2008 was clear: hidden risks affect everyone when things go south. Under Trump, the safety rails are coming off just as shadow finance grows.
Ponzi Finance and Asset Bubbles
Minsky warned that financial systems transition from safe lending to speculation, and then to Ponzi finance—borrowing that can only be repaid if asset prices continue to rise, much like a pyramid scheme. Today, crypto, meme stocks, speculative AI startups, and commercial real estate all show signs of this pattern.
The AI sector is especially shaky. Billions are flowing into startups with weak business models, driven more by hype than actual revenue. If the bubble bursts, it could wipe out investor money and stall real innovation, like the dot-com crash. Commercial real estate has its own problems, with empty offices and falling rents threatening heavily indebted property owners. Confidence can evaporate overnight, and when it does, these markets collapse and the damage spreads across the economy.
Regulatory Retreat
In good times, regulators often loosen their regulations. Trump has accelerated this trend by cutting oversight and leaning on the Federal Reserve. A Fed driven by politics instead of long-term stability risks making bad decisions. Both parties have pressured the Fed in the past, but Trump has taken it to extremes. We’ve seen the danger before: in the 1970s, political pressure kept interest rates too low, leading to runaway inflation and a loss of public trust. It took painful rate hikes in the 1980s to restore balance. Forcing the Fed to cut rates now, despite lingering inflation risks, could repeat the mistakes of the past.
Too Big to Fail 2.0
Some financial institutions remain so large and interconnected that their collapse would significantly shake the global economy. Citigroup and Bank of America are at the top of that list, with leverage levels similar to those of Bear Stearns before its 2008 collapse. A future crisis could lead to massive bailouts—what Minsky called "contingency socialism," where losses are socialized but profits remain private. That cycle reflects moral hazard: when people or institutions take bigger risks because they assume someone else—usually the public—will absorb the losses. Politicians tolerate this imbalance because they fear being blamed for collapse more than they fear encouraging reckless behavior.
To be fair, advocates of deregulation argue that lighter rules encourage innovation and growth. Borrowing can also help keep the economy afloat in downturns and deliver short-term benefits that voters notice—cheaper credit, tax cuts, and rising stock values. The danger is that these gains are fleeting, while the risks they create can endure.
We saw this after 2008, when the government spent billions to rescue major banks. Those moves stopped a total collapse, but they also protected Wall Street while everyday Americans lost homes, jobs, and savings. That imbalance—saving the powerful while others suffer—is the risk we face again if regulation fails.
A System on Borrowed Time
The system is brittle, and the cracks are widening. Households and small businesses are already under strain. Now, Wall Street’s debt, shadow finance, asset bubbles, and weak regulation add layers of fragility. Together, these problems could trigger another major crisis.
The next article will transition from diagnosis to prescription, outlining reforms to strengthen oversight, restore the Federal Reserve's independence, and rebuild middle-class stability. The goal is straightforward: avoid another 2008 and create an economy that benefits more than just the top tier.
Robert Cropf is a professor of political science at Saint Louis University.























image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.