America's power crisis: A look at its societal roots

The USA in transition: Internal renewal or political decline?

Cultural alienation: How Donald Trump accelerated America's crisis

The political tensions of recent years, particularly during the American midterm elections and the presidency of Donald Trump, have exposed the societal divisions in the United States. These conflicts, however, are not merely the result of short-term events or individual actors, but reflect deeper, structural problems that threaten the economic and social foundations of American power. While the US remains militarily, technologically, and financially strong, the social cohesion essential for sustainable leadership is eroding.

The crisis didn't begin with Trump; it's the product of a long-term development characterized by deindustrialization, growing inequality, and a loss of trust in institutions. The rise of China and the increasing independence of other states exacerbate these challenges, forcing the US to reposition itself in a multipolar world. The question is whether America is capable of renewing an economic and social model that includes broad segments of the population while simultaneously driving technological progress. Only through internal renewal can the country maintain its role as a leading global power before it enters a vicious cycle of conflict and decline.

America's power crisis begins at home

The greatest threat to the West is not China, but the loss of its social cohesion

Anyone who wants to understand the American midterm elections, Donald Trump's second presidency, or the growing tensions between the United States and China cannot stop at the visible political conflicts. Election campaigns, tariffs, culture wars, border policy, and foreign policy confrontations are important events, but they only scratch the surface of a deeper development. Beneath the daily news cycle, the economic and social foundations of American power are changing. The country remains exceptionally strong militarily, technologically, and financially, but is increasingly losing the internal cohesion upon which sustained leadership depends.

The American crisis did not begin with Donald Trump, and it will not disappear with the end of his political career. Trump is neither the sole cause nor a convincing solution. Rather, he is a political accelerator and, at the same time, a symptom: he combines fears of downward mobility, distrust of institutions, cultural backlash, and the desire for a return to a supposedly controllable past. His opponents are oversimplifying the issue by reducing the crisis to him personally. His supporters make the same mistake in reverse when they believe that a decisive president can resolve the country's structural contradictions through national strength, tariffs, and confrontation.

The crucial question, therefore, is not whether America will be stronger or weaker under Trump. The crucial question is whether the United States can renew an economic and social model that creates vast fortunes but distributes the profits unequally, that produces technological excellence but simultaneously puts pressure on the material security of broad segments of the population. This capacity for internal renewal will determine whether America remains a leading power in a multipolar world or attempts to compensate for its dwindling relative dominance through increasingly bitter conflicts.

From victory in the Cold War to the illusion of lasting superiority

After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the United States seemed historically unrivaled. It possessed the strongest economy, the world's most capable armed forces, the most important financial markets, leading universities and technology companies, and a dense network of allies. The dollar dominated international payments and currency reserves. Western political and economic institutions shaped the rules of globalization. Many observers considered this constellation not a temporary historical moment, but the natural end state of international order.

From justified self-confidence gradually developed an inflated sense of entitlement. America no longer saw itself merely as a particularly influential power, but as an indispensable nation whose interests were largely identical to the general interests of the world. Military, economic, and moral leadership merged into a self-image in which American decisions were fundamentally perceived as establishing order. External criticism was thus easily interpreted as ingratitude, irrationality, or an attack on a rules-based order, even if other states saw these rules as resulting in an unequal distribution of participation and benefits.

The concept of collective narcissism can help describe this attitude, provided it is not misunderstood as a medical diagnosis. States do not possess a psyche like individuals. However, societies can develop political narratives in which their own significance must be constantly reaffirmed. The more strongly the self-image is based on uniqueness and moral superiority, the more difficult it becomes to acknowledge relative losses of power. Criticism then appears not as an opportunity for correction, but as a threat to national identity. This is precisely where the danger lies: A power that fails to soberly assess its relative decline is more likely to defend symbolic dominance than to modernize its actual foundations.

The rise of China, India's growing independence, the more assertive policies of the Gulf states, and the more confident positioning of numerous countries in the Global South do not mean that the US is becoming powerless. They do mean that the gap between American power and the power of other actors is narrowing. The US share of the global economy at purchasing power parities is now significantly lower than China's. In 2023, China generated almost 32 percent of global industrial value added, while the United States accounted for around 15 percent. In global merchandise trade, China was the largest exporter in 2024, with exports of approximately $3.58 trillion, while the US remained the largest import market, with imports of around $3.36 trillion. These figures do not depict a simple replacement of America, but rather the end of a system in which economic size, industrial capacity, technology, and military power were almost entirely concentrated in the West.

A superpower with a fragile social contract

America's overall economic performance masks the unequal distribution of security and wealth. Real family wealth rose from roughly $52 trillion in 1989 to $199 trillion in 2022. This enormous increase demonstrates the American economy's exceptional capacity for capital formation. However, it does not automatically reflect broad social progress. The wealthiest 10 percent increased their share of total wealth from 56 to 60 percent during this period, and the top 1 percent from 23 to 27 percent. The bottom half of families possessed only six percent of the wealth in both 1989 and 2022. Without social security benefits, this concentration would be even more pronounced.

This distribution is politically significant because wealth enables more than just consumption. It finances desirable housing, education, healthcare, business start-ups, private retirement savings, and protection against crises. Those who own real estate, securities, or investments benefit from rising asset prices. Those who live primarily on a paycheck-to-pay basis, on the other hand, feel the effects of rising rents, healthcare costs, and loan costs directly. Two households can statistically belong to the same middle class and yet have completely different future prospects if one has homeownership, savings, and a family safety net, while the other does not.

The central problem, therefore, is not a fundamental lack of prosperity. It lies in the fact that productivity, capital gains, and top incomes can grow faster than the sense of material security. In a dynamic economic system, people are more likely to accept inequality if they believe upward mobility is possible and the risks of downward mobility appear limited. If this expectation fades, inequality is perceived as evidence of a manipulated system. Then, economic discontent transforms into political alienation.

The American economy continues to possess significant strengths. It offers deep capital markets, strong entrepreneurial momentum, globally leading technology companies, and a remarkable ability to attract talent and capital. In the 2026 Innovation Index, the US ranked third worldwide. More than half of the world's unicorns are from the country, as are roughly 60 percent of their ratings. The US also holds a considerable lead in research-intensive startups and spin-offs. However, this very strength exacerbates the contradiction: A country at the forefront of technology must be able to explain why some of its citizens perceive progress not as an improvement, but as a threat to their economic position.

When efficiency crowds out social security

For decades, globalization was based on an economically sound logic. Production should take place where costs were low, economies of scale were high, and supply chains were efficient. American companies reduced procurement costs, increased margins, and opened up new markets. Consumers benefited from cheaper imports, investors from higher profits, and many emerging economies from industrialization and employment. From a macroeconomic perspective, this resulted in significant gains in prosperity.

The distribution of these gains, however, was asymmetrical. While globally oriented companies and highly skilled workers in metropolitan areas profited from the structural change, numerous industrial regions lost jobs, tax bases, and social status. The decline in industrial employment had consequences beyond mere financial gain. Factories were organizational centers of local life in many regions: they financed communities, enabled upward mobility without a university degree, and fostered professional identity. Their closure could not be fully offset by cheaper consumer goods or new service sector jobs.

Furthermore, the economic policy debate has long been conducted in overly abstract terms. Those who pointed to falling consumer prices and higher overall productivity underestimated the spatial and social concentration of the losses. A positive national welfare effect can be accompanied by severe regional damage. Workers do not move seamlessly between industries, states, and skill levels. Houses in shrinking regions lose value, while rents rise in growth centers. Family networks, schools, and local ties cannot be moved like capital.

Trump's trade policy addresses this real-world experience but offers only a partial answer. Tariffs can protect selected industries, create bargaining power, and reduce security-related dependencies. At the same time, they increase the cost of intermediate goods, burden consumers, and provoke countermeasures. Above all, they do not replace industrial policy, which simultaneously improves infrastructure, skilled labor, research, energy supply, and investment conditions. An economy does not become industrially stronger simply by making imports more expensive. It becomes stronger when domestic production becomes more productive, innovative, and scalable.

The relocation of strategic capacities back to the US is therefore sensible if it is done in a targeted manner. Semiconductors, power grids, pharmaceutical raw materials, defense technologies, critical raw materials, and digital infrastructure have a different security policy significance than ordinary consumer goods. The strategy becomes problematic when economic resilience is confused with comprehensive isolation. Autarky would be just as costly for the US as it would be for Europe or China. The realistic goal is not the dismantling of the global division of labor, but rather the reduction of one-sided dependencies and the development of credible alternatives.

The loss of trust has become an economic burden

Democratic stability depends not only on constitutions and elections. It requires a minimum level of trust: in the validity of shared rules, in the predictability of government decisions, and in the willingness of political opponents to accept legitimate transfers of power. In the United States, this foundation is significantly weakened. In 2025, only 17 percent of respondents trusted the federal government to always or most of the time do the right thing. By 2026, average trust in 14 key institutions had fallen to just 27 percent. Only nine percent had a high level of trust in Congress.

The media, too, have largely lost their shared function of providing orientation. Trust in newspapers, television, and radio fell to 28 percent in 2025. Particularly problematic is not only the low level of trust, but also the partisan divide. Institutions are increasingly judged by whether one's own political side controls them or whether their decisions align with one's own identity. Trust is thus transformed from a lasting societal resource into a fluctuating vote of loyalty.

This development has significant economic costs. Businesses need reliable rules, long-term planning horizons, and public acceptance. When every election can fundamentally alter tax policy, regulation, trade policy, climate policy, and public administration, uncertainty increases. Investments are postponed, supply chains are restructured as a precaution, and political risks are priced in more heavily. Polarization thus acts like an invisible risk premium on the entire economic system.

Furthermore, mistrust hinders the provision of public goods. Infrastructure, education, healthcare, research, defense, and fiscal consolidation require long-term compromises. A society in which every expenditure is perceived as prey to the other side and every reform as an attack on its identity can only implement necessary adjustments during crises. This leads to higher costs and poorer outcomes. The state is simultaneously perceived as both overpowering and incapable of action: overpowering in culturally contested areas, and incapable of action regarding borders, debt, housing costs, or infrastructure.

The political center isn't necessarily disappearing numerically, but it is losing organizational influence. Primary elections, the logic of digital media, party-affiliated donation structures, and geographically secure constituencies reward clear-cut enemies more than the ability to compromise. This gives politicians an incentive to mobilize the opposition instead of building shifting majorities for concrete solutions. Outrage becomes a business model, reconciliation a career risk.

Trump is an accelerator, not the origin

Donald Trump was only able to become the dominant political actor because a large pool of support already existed before his rise to power. Deindustrialization, regional imbalances, the financial crisis, costly wars, seemingly uncontrolled migration, and cultural alienation had shaken the confidence of many citizens. Trump translated this discontent into a simple narrative: America had been weakened by incompetent or disloyal elites and could return to its former greatness through decisive leadership.

This narrative possesses political power because it translates diffuse experiences into clear-cut responsibilities. However, it is economically incomplete. The relative decline in US power is not solely the result of poor negotiations. It also follows the economic rise of more populous countries, global technology transfer, and the expansion of education, capital, and infrastructure outside the West. Even perfect American policy could not permanently prevent other societies from becoming more productive and prosperous.

Trump's approach shifts the focus from rules-based leadership to transactional power politics. Allies are expected to increase their contributions, trading partners to make concessions, and international institutions to serve American interests more clearly. Some of this criticism is justified. Europe has long neglected its defense capabilities. China linked market access to industrial policy requirements and built up strategic capabilities with massive state support. International rules have not always been enforced consistently.

The weakness of a purely transactional strategy lies in its underestimation of the value of trust. Alliances are not merely cost centers, but power multipliers. The dollar, American technology platforms, security guarantees, and open capital markets give the US influence because other actors perceive the system as predictable despite all imbalances. If every advantage is monetized in the short term and every relationship is publicly questioned, partners may seek alternatives. America's structural power rests precisely on the fact that many states voluntarily remain in American-dominated networks.

At the same time, Trump's return has intensified the debate about institutional limits. Observers have differing assessments of the pace and extent of the concentration of power in the presidency. Regardless of partisan judgments, however, one thing remains true: when courts, administration, universities, media, and electoral processes are viewed solely as instruments of one side, the system loses its ability to legitimize defeats. Democracy does not require the absence of harsh conflicts, but rather the shared recognition of processes that limit conflict.

Our US expertise in business development, sales and marketing - Image: Xpert.Digital

Industry focus areas: B2B, digitalization (from AI to XR), mechanical engineering, logistics, renewable energies and industry

More information here:

• Expert Business Hub

A thematic hub offering insights and expertise:

• Knowledge platform covering global and regional economies, innovation and industry-specific trends
• A collection of analyses, insights, and background information from our key areas of focus
• A place for expertise and information on current developments in business and technology
• A hub for companies seeking information on markets, digitalization, and industry innovations

The elites mistook stability for approval

A significant part of the crisis stems from a perceptual error on the part of political, economic, and media leaders. Many benefited from globalization, rising asset prices, academic mobility, and cosmopolitan networks. From their perspective, the system generally functioned well. Problems appeared as temporary disruptions that could be resolved through better communication, technocratic adjustments, or additional social programs.

It was underestimated that people seek not only income, but also recognition and control. Those who feel their region is losing importance, traditional qualifications are being devalued, and cultural changes are occurring without their input, do not necessarily react to aggregated growth figures. The observation that the gross domestic product is rising does not answer the question of whether work provides dignity, family security, and politics influence.

The way criticism was handled was also frequently counterproductive. Legitimate concerns about migration, crime, deindustrialization, or education costs were sometimes morally dismissed, while populist actors deliberately oversimplified complex problems. Between trivialization and dramatization, too little room remained for sober policy. The result was a twofold alienation: some members of the population believed that elites were not listening; conversely, some members of the elites considered the population irrational or easily manipulated.

American leaders also underestimated the link between economic concentration and political influence. Where wealth, media reach, lobbying access, and campaign financing are highly concentrated, the impression arises, even without formal corruption, that political priorities can be bought. This impression may be exaggerated, but it is not insignificant. A system loses legitimacy when citizens believe that while rules apply generally, their shaping is primarily open to well-organized and wealthy groups.

A credible renewal must therefore offer more than redistribution. It must make institutional effectiveness visible. Citizens expect functioning borders, affordable infrastructure, reliable schools, security, and transparent procedures. Social welfare transfers can alleviate hardship, but they cannot replace the experience of a state that practically solves problems. Likewise, cultural recognition without a material perspective is insufficient. Economic security and political belonging must be strengthened together.

China is challenging not only America's power, but also its self-image

The conflict between the US and China is more than just a typical competition between two superpowers. China challenges the American notion that economic modernization inevitably leads to political liberalization and integration into a Western-style order. Beijing has leveraged international markets, investments, and technology transfer without fundamentally adapting its political system to the Western model. At the same time, it has developed industrial depth, infrastructure, and technological capabilities at a pace that many Western observers had not anticipated.

The balance of power is more complex than the simple thesis of a Chinese century. China is enormously strong industrially and dominates numerous supply chains. It has significantly caught up with, or even surpassed, the US in scientific publications and international patent applications. In 2024, China's purchasing power parity-adjusted research and development output was slightly higher than that of the US for the first time. At the same time, the United States continues to possess stronger capital markets, a larger number of highly valued technology companies, leading universities, a global talent magnet, and the central reserve currency. In mid-2026, the dollar still accounted for approximately 56.7 percent of officially recorded global currency reserves.

A significant military gap also persists. In 2025, the US spent approximately $954 billion on its military, while China's expenditure was estimated at $336 billion. American power is also globally deployable and embedded in alliances. China's advantages are more concentrated in East Asia and its proximity to its own territory. For specific conflicts, particularly those surrounding Taiwan, regional concentration can be more important than global superiority. This is precisely why the risk of miscalculations is growing: Washington could overestimate its overall power, and Beijing its regional position.

A productive relationship with China requires a two-pronged strategy. The US must protect its technological and industrial base, limit espionage, reduce critical dependencies, and coordinate allies. At the same time, both powers need communication channels, economic ties, and rules for crisis management. Complete decoupling would be unrealistic and extremely costly economically. Competition cannot be eliminated; it must be managed in such a way that it does not lead to military escalation.

The decisive American response to China lies not in Beijing, but at home. Export controls can slow Chinese progress in certain areas. However, they are no substitute for better schools, faster permitting processes, modern power grids, competitive industries, or sound public finances. Lasting strength does not come from making the adversary less capable, but from making one's own society more productive and cohesive.

America's strength remains greater than its doomsday narratives

The diagnosis of a deep crisis must not devolve into a linear narrative of decline. The United States has been repeatedly underestimated. Its open business environment, large domestic market, energy supply, capacity to mobilize capital, and attractiveness to immigrants represent substantial reserves of adaptation. The country boasts the world's largest number of highly valuable technology companies and an exceptional concentration of research, venture capital, and entrepreneurial expertise.

The dollar won't lose its role overnight. Reserve currencies rely on deep and liquid financial markets, reliable property rights, international use, and the absence of equivalent alternatives. The euro suffers from the political and fiscal fragmentation of Europe, while the renminbi struggles with capital controls and limited trust in Chinese institutions. A gradual diversification of reserves is likely, but an abrupt replacement of the dollar is not.

America's alliance system remains a further advantage. China has important partners, but no comparable network of wealthy, technologically advanced, and militarily integrated allies. Japan, South Korea, Australia, Canada, and the European NATO states significantly expand Washington's economic and strategic room for maneuver. This advantage, however, is politically determined and therefore not immutable. Alliances only endure if the burdens and participation are perceived as sufficiently fair.

The greatest weakness of the decline thesis lies in its confusion of relative and absolute development. The US share of the global economy can decrease while income, technology, and productivity continue to grow. Other countries can catch up without impoverishing America. The end of unchallenged dominance is not synonymous with national decline. It only becomes so when political missteps, institutional erosion, and societal gridlock paralyze the existing forces for adaptation.

The debt issue limits the strategic scope

America's fiscal trajectory is an often underestimated part of the power question. A federal deficit of around $1.9 trillion is projected for 2026. Publicly held federal debt stands at approximately 101 percent of economic output and could rise to 120 percent by 2036. Annual interest payments are expected to increase to about $2.1 trillion by then. This increases the proportion of government funds tied up in past spending decisions instead of being available for future capabilities.

The US enjoys greater fiscal leeway than other countries due to the dollar and its deep capital markets. This special position is real, but not limitless. Persistently high deficits can crowd out private investment, increase interest costs, and reduce political responsiveness in crises. A particularly problematic aspect is that the debt does not arise solely from temporary investments or recessions, but grows structurally even in normal years.

Fiscal consolidation is politically difficult because large spending categories such as social security, healthcare programs, defense, and interest payments each have strong vested interests. At the same time, tax increases are highly controversial along party lines. Neither side can solve the problem simply by cutting the area they dislike. A viable reform will have to address revenues, benefit promises, healthcare costs, and priorities together.

The link to the societal crisis is direct. If citizens distrust the state, they will accept neither higher taxes nor benefit cuts. If the political debate brands every reform as betrayal, debt will continue to grow. Fiscal sustainability is therefore not just a technical question, but a test of political cooperation. A society that cannot share burdens will ultimately lose strategic freedom.

Europe must transform from a protected market into a strategic player

The American crisis directly affects Europe. Since the Second World War, European security has rested on American military presence, nuclear deterrence, and political leadership. This relationship remains indispensable, but its conditions are changing. Regardless of who governs in Washington, the American focus will shift more towards the Indo-Pacific and competition with China. Europe must therefore assume greater responsibility without artificially jeopardizing the transatlantic partnership.

European defense spending has increased significantly. In 2025, the European NATO states and Canada increased their spending by approximately 20 percent in real terms, reaching a combined total of around $574 billion. Europe's total military spending, including Russia's, reached approximately $864 billion. However, higher budgets alone do not guarantee strategic capability. Crucial factors include joint procurement, standardized systems, readily available munitions, air defense, logistics, satellites, reconnaissance, and a robust industrial base.

Europe's weakness lies less in a lack of overall resources than in fragmentation and slow decision-making. National procurement systems, differing technical requirements, and political competition drive up project costs and limit economies of scale. Strategic autonomy should therefore not be misunderstood as distancing itself from the US. It means the ability to act even when American priorities lie elsewhere or when Washington is unwilling to take the lead immediately.

Economically, Europe faces a similar challenge. The continent boasts highly productive companies, strong research institutions, and a large single market, but is losing ground in terms of scalability, digital infrastructure, energy prices, and capital mobilization. At the same time, the EU is dependent on external sources for energy and critical raw materials. In 2023, 58 percent of European energy demand was met through net imports. For rare earth elements, magnesium, gallium, and other strategic raw materials, there is a strong reliance on individual suppliers.

European sovereignty cannot therefore be achieved through protectionism alone. It requires investment in networks, energy production, storage, data centers, defense, raw material partnerships, and capital markets. Equally important is a foreign policy culture that clearly defines its interests. Europe must simultaneously cooperate with the US, treat China with economic differentiation, deter Russia, and expand partnerships with countries of the Global South. Moral positions remain important, but they will only be convincing if Europe delivers economic incentives and political reliability.

Multipolarity is not a disorder, but the new normal

The emergence of a multipolar world is often portrayed in the West as a story of loss. From a global perspective, however, it is also the result of successful development. Billions of people now live in countries that are more economically productive, technologically advanced, and politically more assertive than they were just a few decades ago. China's share of global economic output at purchasing power parities is projected to be nearly 20 percent in 2026, the US share around 14.5 percent, and the European Union's share approximately 13.8 percent. None of these entities can determine the global order on its own.

Demographic trends are intensifying this shift. The world population stood at approximately 8.2 billion in 2024 and is projected to reach around 10.3 billion by the mid-2080s. The strongest growth is occurring in Africa, while Europe is aging and many East Asian societies are shrinking. Future markets, workforces, and political voices will therefore increasingly lie outside the traditional West.

Multipolarity does not automatically equate to stability. More power centers can balance competition, but they can also increase insecurity. When rules are contested and alliances become more flexible, the risk of regional conflicts, economic coercion, and shifting coalitions grows. States of the Global South will rarely align themselves permanently with one camp. They will cooperate with different partners depending on the issue and utilize strategic options.

The West should not interpret this independence as disloyalty. Many states remember colonialism, unequal trade relations, and the selective application of international norms. They want access to Western markets and technologies, but at the same time want to utilize Chinese infrastructure, Russian raw materials, or regional security cooperation. A successful Western strategy must offer attractive partnerships instead of expecting automatic compliance.

The question of power will be decided in schools, factories, and communities

Geopolitical strength is often equated with aircraft carriers, sanctions, and summits. In the long term, however, it arises from productivity, education, infrastructure, public trust, and fiscal capacity. The most important front line, therefore, does not lie solely in the South China Sea, in Ukraine, or within international organizations. It lies in schools, neighborhoods, industrial plants, government agencies, and digital public spheres.

For the US, renewal means first and foremost restoring the link between economic dynamism and broad security. This includes better educational pathways outside of traditional universities, affordable housing in growth regions, modern transportation and energy networks, and an industrial policy that mobilizes private investment instead of permanently subsidizing inefficient structures. Technological progress must be linked to skills development and regional growth.

Secondly, political institutions must become more effective again. Transparency alone is not enough if procedures drag on for years and produce no results. Faster approvals, more professional administration, and clear responsibilities can strengthen trust. Efficiency must not be sacrificed for the rule of law. Particularly in polarized societies, limiting executive power is crucial because any short-term exception can later be exploited by the opposing side.

Third, America needs a more realistic narrative about its role. The country remains exceptionally influential, but it is not omnipotent. Leadership in a multipolar world means building coalitions, negotiating rules, and setting priorities. Not every regional conflict can be resolved in an American way, and not every deviation is a strategic defeat. Such limitations would not be a retreat, but rather an expression of political maturity.

Fourth, the link between public finances and strategy must be made visible again. Anyone who simultaneously cuts taxes, protects social benefits, expands defense spending, and ignores interest costs is promising a mathematically impossible policy. Power requires resources, and resources demand priorities. A willingness to openly acknowledge conflicting objectives would be an important step toward restoring political credibility.

The West can renew itself, but it cannot return to the past

The former Western dominance cannot be restored because the economic and demographic conditions for it have disappeared. Neither tariffs nor military superiority nor moral appeals can prevent other regions from gaining influence. Attempting to artificially prolong the unipolar phase would tie up resources, exacerbate conflicts, and delay internal modernization.

This does not mean abandoning Western values ​​or interests. On the contrary: democracy, the rule of law, open science, and individual freedom remain essential sources of economic and political strength. However, they are only convincing if Western societies adhere to their own rules, deliver measurable results, and allow for criticism. Moral credibility arises not from self-description, but from practice.

The deepest danger for the United States and Europe, therefore, is not the rise of other powers. It lies in the temptation to blame external competitors for internal failings. China does not explain American wealth concentration, low trust in Congress, or structural budget deficits. Russia does not explain Europe's fragmented defense industry, slow approval processes, or incomplete capital market integration. External threats are real, but they must not become a substitute for self-correction.

Great powers rarely fail solely due to a superior adversary. More often, they lose room for maneuver because their institutions become rigid, their elites prevent necessary adjustments, and societal groups no longer recognize a common interest. Foreign policy then becomes more aggressive precisely because the internal foundation weakens. Symbolic toughness replaces strategic patience.

The future of the West therefore hinges on a sobering realization: power in the 21st century is more divided, more interconnected, and more dependent on internal legitimacy. America does not need to become unassailable again to be successful. Europe does not need to become a superpower modeled on America to protect its interests. But both must prove that open societies are capable of establishing widespread prosperity, resolving conflicts according to rules, and making long-term decisions.

The decisive competition is therefore not a clash of civilizations between a morally superior West and a hostile rest of the world. It is a competition between different systems for efficiency, adaptability, and trust. If America and Europe renew their societal foundations, they will remain central forces in a multipolar order. If they fail to do so, no amount of determined foreign policy will be able to halt the relative loss of power. The most important geopolitical front line does not run between Washington and Beijing. It runs within Western societies themselves.

The quasi-in-house solution: How Xpert.Digital closes operational gaps in B2B marketing and sales – Smart Content-Driven Business - Image: Xpert.Digital

Xpert.Digital is a data-driven B2B industry hub led by Konrad Wolfenstein . The company acts as an external, quasi-in-house solution for industrial partners, closing operational gaps in marketing, content, and sales – without requiring additional resources on the client side.

More information here:

• The quasi-in-house solution: How Xpert.Digital closes operational gaps in B2B marketing and sales – Smart Content-Driven Business

☑️ Our business language is English or German

☑️ NEW: Correspondence in your native language!

Konrad Wolfenstein

I and my team are happy to be available to you as your personal advisor.

You can contact me by filling out the contact form here [email protected]:or simply call me at +49 7348 4088 965. My email address is

I'm looking forward to our joint project.

☑️ SME support in strategy, consulting, planning and implementation

☑️ Creation or realignment of the digital strategy and digitization

☑️ Expansion and optimization of international sales processes

☑️ Global & Digital B2B trading platforms

☑️ Pioneer Business Development / Marketing / PR / Trade Fairs