The Department of Government Efficiency, DOGE, led by an unelected billionaire and supported by the Donald Trump administration, continues its bulldozer approach to our federal government. As we careen forward, an essential food for thought is an awareness of the global and historical perspectives that underscore how our current leaders' strategies align with a playbook for the final chapter of previous global powers.
When we think of global dominance, we often think of military strength and the size of a superpower’s budget. What we think less of is the importance of perception or the significance of the cultural aspects of power. The USAID spreads the impression of a peaceful and protective United States, dispersing resources and building a global community with the US at the helm. President Kennedy began the USAID in 1961 with an Executive order. Research shows that USAID has continuously had bipartisan support and a tremendous impact, makes up less than 1 percent of our budget, and is a major player within the United Nations Developmental Programme.
Military and financial power alone does not make a global power. To preserve a respectable image, we need soft power. We need to be viewed as morally good, akin to what public intellectual Slavoj Žižek calls global capitalism with a human face. The United States has leaned into this strategy. We are a military giant, and still, people worldwide view us as democratic and politically stable.
Sociologists have long shown the importance of this balancing act. When antagonistic forces are the foundation of a system, something must entice those with less power to cooperate or submit rather than revolt. Workers who receive benefits are less likely to strike. Those living in proximity to the toxic outputs of oil refineries are less likely to critique the company when it also invests in healthcare and education for the community.
The United States grew into its role as a world power politically and economically, and, like the British, Dutch, and Spanish empires before it, may be destined to lose this status eventually. In The Long Twentieth Century, the late scholar Giovanni Arrighi analyzed empires and how they transition. Their decline follows a pattern. One part of this order is that an empire’s ambitions exceed its tangible resources, and over-extension predates its decline. Trump’s colonial tendencies, for example, when he states he wants to take over Greenland, The Panama Canal, and Gaza, echo exactly the overextending vibe of world leaders pre-collapse.
We are the emperor who quickly drops clothing. It’s inefficient to waste food, medical trials, people, or allies. As a superpower, appearing secure, functional, and stable is valuable. The United States is seeking expansion, and at the same time, its leaders are dismantling its systems internally. And these things matter. We don’t live in a peaceful world, and global leaders vie for power. There are those who would appreciate the internally initiated demise of the United States.
To be sure, the waning of US global dominance is likely inevitable. The contradictions of Trump and Musk’s decisions to eliminate USAID inefficiently and dismantle the federal workforce while simultaneously making large power grabs, such as seeking additional territories and mineral rights, could speed up this descent.
There may be nothing that can make a superpower become self-reflective enough to be sustainable. It is unlikely that the Trump administration will reinstate robust foreign aid and federal workers nor invest in sustainability-oriented policies such as the Green New Deal. But we live in an era where we are increasingly aware of Adrienne Maree Brown's emergent strategy. What if our leaders could turn towards more evolved skills and sustainable actions, such as prioritizing the care of people and our planet overfeeding a no-boundary endless treadmill of greed chasing? Perhaps the asymmetry inherent to empires is not meant to last, but perhaps humanity can. We need leaders who understand that global sustainability, and thus solidarity, are the best renewable resources.
The global political economy is not a high-stakes card game. It is the context and backbone of our only shared reality. And it’s time for its parameters to evolve from a dog-eat-dog mentality to a regenerative one. We need leaders who value non-alternative facts and our future, who believe in diversity, equity, and inclusion, and who trust our scientists. We need a government that can imagine and work towards a better world where education is broadly funded, federal employees keep their jobs, we appropriately tax our wealth hoarders, and at our core, we strategize for liberation for all rather than domination for some.
Our world's systems may not be a card game, but it would behoove our leaders to understand not only the art, but also the science and history of their dealings and the systemic risks of bad faith plays.
Megan Thiele Strong is a Sociology professor at San José State University, a Public Voices Fellow at The OpEd Project, and a member of the Scholars Strategy Network.




















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.