This series began with a simple but urgent question: What’s gone wrong with America’s economic policies, and how can we begin to fix them? The story so far has revealed not only financial instability but also deeper structural weaknesses that leave families, small businesses, and entire communities far more vulnerable than they should be.
In the first two articles, “Running on Empty” and “Crash Course,” we examined how middle-class families, small businesses, and retirees are increasingly caught in a web of debt and financial uncertainty. We also examined how Wall Street’s speculative excesses, deregulation, and shadow banking have pushed the financial system to the brink. Finally, we warned that Donald Trump’s economic agenda doesn’t address these problems—it magnifies them. Together, these earlier articles painted a picture of a system skating on thin ice, where even small shocks could trigger widespread crisis.
Now comes the hard part: finding a path forward.
A Fragile Foundation and a System on Borrowed Time
In the late 1970s, a nurse’s income could support a household of five—my own family lived that reality. Today, even two incomes often fall short. Half of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, and one in four spends nearly all their earnings on essentials. Credit card delinquencies have climbed to a 13-year high, while the costs of food, housing, and childcare continue to rise faster than wages.
Crushing student debt postpones homeownership and family formation, medical bills overwhelm households, and retirees confront shrinking safety nets as Social Security and Medicare edge closer to insolvency. Many who trusted these programs would always be there, failed to save enough, and now face retirement with too few resources. These pressures hint at a deeper crisis shaping daily life, where families are running harder to stay in place and the promise of upward mobility grows weaker with each passing year.
Small businesses and farmers are also paralyzed, with many farm families facing their gravest crisis since the 1980s. Tariff threats and congressional stopgaps make planning impossible. Instead of hiring or innovating, many hold back. As economist Hyman Minsky warned, what appears to be stability is often fragility in disguise. The same holds true for small towns hollowed out by decades of disinvestment: resilience on the surface but deep vulnerability underneath.
These household pressures connect directly to Wall Street’s excess. Federal deficits hover around 7 percent of GDP, interest payments on the national debt have tripled since 2021, and major banks carry dangerously thin cushions. Shadow banking, hedge funds, private equity, and crypto platforms operate with little oversight, creating risks that can spill over into the real economy. The concentration of risk in just a few giant institutions leaves the broader system exposed, and the lessons of 2008 seem to have faded too quickly.
The slide from safe finance into speculation and finally Ponzi finance is clear. Meme stocks, shaky AI startups, and commercial real estate burdened with debt all reflect this pattern. Deregulation, political pressure on the Federal Reserve, and tolerance for corporate leverage accelerate the cycle. If unchecked, these vulnerabilities could escalate into a crisis more damaging than the last, leaving policymakers scrambling once again to bail out the powerful while ordinary families bear the brunt of the pain.
Taken together, the warning signs are unmistakable: households weighed down by debt, businesses and farms in survival mode, and financial institutions skating on the edge of collapse. The system is brittle, and the cracks are widening.
Fixing What’s Broken
If "Running on Empty" diagnosed the household squeeze and "Crash Course" exposed systemic fragility, this final part turns to solutions. The fixes are not quick or painless, but they are possible if we summon the political will. And if pursued together, they could mark a turning point toward a more balanced, resilient economy.
At the broadest level, three priorities stand out, each of which deserves deeper attention. First, the nation must make rebuilding middle-class security a top priority by addressing the core costs of housing, education, healthcare, and retirement so that families can achieve stability once more. This means targeted investments in affordable housing, serious reforms to student debt, measures to control medical costs, and a long-term commitment to protecting Social Security and Medicare, ensuring that seniors are not left facing poverty in old age. Policymakers must also think about the next generation, ensuring that early childhood education, childcare support, and training programs are funded as essential public goods.
Second, financial excess must be contained through stronger oversight of banks, hedge funds, and shadow finance, along with a renewed commitment to institutional independence at places like the Federal Reserve. Restoring robust regulation would not only reduce the risk of another financial collapse but also rebuild public trust that the rules of the economy work for everyone, not just for the wealthiest institutions and investors. Transparency requirements, stronger enforcement powers, and coordination with international regulators are all necessary if the U.S. is to avoid repeating past mistakes. Limiting corporate leverage and addressing the risks posed by speculative markets, such as crypto, would also help stabilize the system.
Third, democracy itself requires repair. Congress must reclaim its budgetary authority by ending its reliance on continuing resolutions, and state and local governments need renewed support so they can act as meaningful counterweights to federal power. Just as important, civic life must be strengthened through education and reforms that encourage compromise rather than zero-sum politics, helping citizens see that government can still deliver for ordinary people and not just for partisan advantage. Ranked-choice voting, independent redistricting, and broader civic education could gradually shift political incentives toward problem-solving rather than permanent brinkmanship. Campaign finance reform is also vital. The Supreme Court should revisit Citizens United and restore reasonable limits on political spending so that democracy reflects the voices of citizens rather than the power of money.
None of these measures will be easy. All require political courage, a willingness to challenge entrenched interests, and an honest conversation with the public about costs and trade-offs. However, without such reforms, the system will remain brittle, and democracy will remain vulnerable. These reforms will take time. Citizens must be patient but also persistent in demanding them.
Conclusion: From Fragility to Resilience
This series began with families stretched to the breaking point, followed Wall Street’s dangerous gambles, and ends with a call to repair the foundations. Fragility is not destiny; the cracks are visible and can be repaired if leaders choose long-term stability over short-term spectacle.
Rebuilding middle-class security, restoring guardrails on finance, and renewing democratic institutions—from congressional responsibility and institutional independence to stronger civic life—are not partisan luxuries but democratic necessities.
The stakes extend beyond economics. They reach into the legitimacy of government, the cohesion of communities, and the public’s trust that tomorrow can be better than today. Yet too often leaders and the media fixate on short-term political theater instead of the deeper reforms required to secure the nation’s future.
If every election continues to feel like a cliffhanger for the republic, the system itself may not be able to withstand the strain. Strengthening institutions and pursuing reform is not optional; it is the only way forward. Moving from fragility to resilience will require patience, persistence, and vision—and it remains within reach if leaders and citizens alike demand it.
Robert Cropf is a Political Science Professor 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.