At first, I didn’t want to add my voice to the anti-Trump chorus of recent weeks. But I can’t avoid mentioning his name—not because he, or what he does or doesn’t do, is so important, but precisely because it isn’t.
Of course, Trump’s extravagant policies have consequences for both the United States and the rest of the world. However, when placed in a broader context, these developments seem to be merely accelerating an already ongoing trajectory rather than creating it. Perhaps the rise of a president with his particular brand of leadership was even inevitable.
The Lead-Up
The United States has long been prone to overestimating its own capabilities while misunderstanding other cultures. Since World War II, the list of miscalculations is extensive.
Consider the practice of replacing hostile governments with regimes aligned with U.S. interests, as in Afghanistan and Iraq. While the initial overthrow of governments was often successful, what followed was largely chaos.
In Vietnam, American leaders underestimated the role of nationalism within communism. They failed to recognize how the communist movement had gained legitimacy by driving out colonial powers and how strong nationalist motivations were among many of its fighters.
Both the Bush and Obama administrations placed too much faith in unrealistic ideas about democratization. The belief that liberal democracy and a free-market economy could be easily implemented in authoritarian societies—without consideration for existing cultures—led to strategic failures.
U.S. foreign policy has often been criticized for prioritizing short-term goals over well-thought-out long-term strategies. This approach has compromised national security and economic stability. For instance, after the Cold War, the U.S. wasted vast resources and countless lives in the fight against perceived terrorist threats—often driven more by domestic political considerations than by sound strategic planning.
The U.S. has repeatedly declared war on abstract concepts such as drugs, poverty, and terrorism, leading to endless conflicts. The “War on Terror” after 9/11 is a prime example. Instead of treating terrorism primarily as a criminal issue, the U.S. became entangled in prolonged military operations.
Over the years, American leaders have increasingly acted as if the U.S. is above international law, undermining the very principles and institutions it once helped establish to maintain global stability. The United Nations has been disregarded, the International Court of Justice has been ignored, and agreements like the Paris Climate Agreement have been abandoned.
When it comes to climate and sustainability, American leadership has often paid lip service to environmental protection while continuing to exploit fossil fuels. While Trump is widely criticized for expanding oil and gas drilling, Democratic President Biden extracted more oil and gas than any other administration. Similarly, Tesla’s success had little to do with climate concerns and much more with financial gain.
And What About Us?
Meanwhile, the rest of the world has largely lulled itself into complacency, believing in the narrative of democracy, boundless growth, and the blessings of digital technology. But for those who still believe in this, The Guardian provides a sobering reality check.
The publication has extensively documented how critics have warned about the right-wing undercurrents in Silicon Valley and the emergence of what some call “techno-fascism ” since the 1990s. Despite its reputation as a liberal industry, tech’s foundations have always been infused with reactionary ideology, deeply rooted in masculine power worship and a rejection of political correctness. These historical trends help explain the rightward shift in Silicon Valley today, of which Trump is merely a symptom.
During the dot-com boom of the 1990s, critics like Michael Malone and Paulina Borsook pointed out the glorification of unbridled male power in the tech industry. Right-wing ideas from this sector influenced the Reagan administration, fueling trickle-down economics and the dismantling of the welfare state. This reinforced a cult of entrepreneurship, where men were celebrated as visionary leaders and women were relegated to the margins. Nature and climate were even further down the hierarchy.
The Right-Wing Tech Elite of Today
Although the dot-com crash of 2000 temporarily halted this technocratic euphoria, a new generation of entrepreneurs—like Elon Musk and Peter Thiel (founder of PayPal and the controversial data firm Cambridge Analytica, now Palantir)—had already absorbed the lessons of the 1990s. Today, they openly continue these right-wing tendencies.
Following that trend, Mark Zuckerberg recently announced that Meta would eliminate diversity programs, arguing that businesses must return to “male energy.”
After Elon Musk transformed Twitter into X, partly in reaction to “woke” culture critics, he has gone on to openly promote right-wing radicalism in both national policies and abroad.
Meanwhile, Marc Andreessen, creator of the Netscape browser, draws inspiration from the Italian Futurists, a movement that blended technology, fascism, and anti-feminism.
The right-wing shift in Silicon Valley is not an isolated phenomenon but rather a continuation of the industry’s ideological roots. The tech sector didn’t suddenly turn reactionary—the seeds were always there. The question is: are other key industries, like energy and finance, any different?
The Edge of the Bucket
Eight decades after World War II, the U.S. has demonstrated a pattern of military overreach, ideological bias, short-term thinking, economic dominance, and disregard for international norms and institutions.
Add to that domestic polarization, a structural shift to the right, rising violence, growing poverty, and a decaying political system, and it becomes clear that Donald J. Trump is nothing more than the inevitable final drop that makes the bucket overflow.
Many suggest a “mentality shift” comparable to the Moon mission of the 1960s to address today’s real issues. But this comparison only highlights the dire state of the U.S. today. More than fifty years ago, at the peak of American capability, NASA put men on the Moon. Yet in 2024, U.S. technology fails to rescue two astronauts on time from an old space station, and rockets explode one after another during launch—while discussions continue about a potential Mars mission.
No Escape Left
The idea of Mars as an escape plan is symptomatic of the larger crisis. The world is full, and there is nowhere left to flee.
For decades, the West, led by the U.S., aggressively expanded by selling its technology to an underdeveloped world, particularly China. But that era is coming to an end. China is overtaking the West and staking its claim on a significant part of the world. It is reversing roles, forcing the West into an every-man-for-himself political reality. Under Trump’s leadership, the U.S. is merely accelerating this process.
At the same time, our ecosystem has reached its limits. Pollution and emissions have hit a point of no return, where further exceeding these limits will have catastrophic consequences.
In a healthy economy, the cost of adjustment and recovery could still be absorbed. But when growth is no longer possible, resources must be rationed. The alternative? Cannibalization.
In addition to all this, the U.S. faces a deeper illness: financial cancer. A handful of super-billionaires are draining society, accelerating the destabilization and collapse of the system. Not even Trump’s chaos can hide this reality.
Years from now, we may look back at early 2025 as a turning point in history. With China’s AI breakthroughs and fusion energy advancements, we may recognize this as the moment China surpassed the U.S.—not just technologically, but in sheer competence and action.
It was a moment overshadowed at the time by the spectacle of an American president recklessly steering his country full-speed toward an iceberg, hoping to split it apart.
But tell me—who still remembers the name of the captain of the Titanic?
Peet Osta
Image: White House, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons