Contrary to the alarmist rhetoric echoing through Washington and European capitals, the West is not in decline—it is being recalibrated. What we are witnessing is not the fall of the West, but the long-overdue rise of the rest. For centuries, Western powers enjoyed a staggering advantage in wealth, influence, and technological progress, a head start built through the industrial revolution and, let’s be honest, brutal imperial domination. That age is over. Today’s shifting balance of power is not a threat—it’s a rebalancing act grounded in historical inevitability and basic human progress.
Modern economic development began in the West — Britain led the way with the steam engine, followed by the U.S. and Europe in electricity, automobiles, and the information age. This created an immense technological and economic gap between the West and the rest of the world, a gap widened not just by innovation but also by colonialism and empire. By the end of World War II, however, the European empires were spent. The world wars had eviscerated them, paving the way for independence movements across Asia, Africa, and Latin America.
Once free from imperial chains, these countries began a long process of catching up. They prioritized education, built infrastructure, and gradually developed their economies. And now, many are transitioning from imitators to innovators. China is the most prominent example, having leapfrogged from a developing nation to a global technological powerhouse. But this rise is a natural consequence of freedom and investment, not some grand conspiracy against the West.
Yet, instead of embracing this multipolar future, the West—especially the United States—has responded with paranoia, protectionism, and a dangerous nostalgia for its unipolar heyday. The result is an increasingly erratic and confrontational foreign policy driven not by facts but by fear, arrogance, and, frankly, racism. We see it in the vitriol directed toward China. We see it in the hostile posture toward BRICS countries. We see it in the desperate effort to hold on to a version of global dominance that no longer exists.
The U.S., in particular, has convinced itself that being “first” means being supreme. This worldview is fueled by centuries of exceptionalism—religious, racial, and economic. It’s a myth that the West is inherently better, that its dominance is deserved, and that any challenge to its supremacy must be met with resistance. That mindset is deeply embedded in American politics, especially among the elite. And it’s currently embodied in the deeply flawed behaviour of our highest office.
US foreign policy has been reduced to the whims of a single individual, issuing executive decrees like royal edicts. Congress is feeble. The courts have abdicated oversight. And now the US has a president whose directives are shaped more by ego than strategy. He flips from claiming Russia should be negotiated with to declaring Putin a villain. He publicly bullies other nations on social media. He unilaterally imposes tariffs on Brazil because its president dares to reject American imperial attitudes. This is not diplomacy; it’s delusion.
What makes this even more dangerous is that the world is no longer obligated to follow America’s lead. Nations are forming their own alliances—BRICS is a prime example—built not on anti-Americanism but on a desire for mutual respect, sovereignty, and multilateral cooperation. Anyone interested in the truth should read the BRICS declaration from Rio de Janeiro. There is no anti-American rhetoric—just calls for adherence to international law, UN principles, and sustainable development. Yet because the U.S. has rejected these very principles, even neutral language sounds hostile to Washington.
It is not the world that is turning away from America; it is America that has abandoned the world. The US walked out of the Paris Climate Agreement, the World Health Organization, and refuses to pay their UN dues.The US opposes sustainable development goals. The US has become the outlier on issues that should unite humanity. So when other countries band together around these shared goals, the US calls them adversaries. Why? Because they dare to exist outside the US orbit.
Even more disturbing is the posture toward war and peace. The US had a fleeting moment where it seemed possible the it might acknowledge NATO’s expansion as a legitimate concern for Russia—a moment when diplomacy and realism nearly prevailed. That moment is gone. Now the rhetoric is back to good vs. evil, with no room for political settlement or compromise. NATO will expand to Ukraine, full stop. Any resistance is villainized. And anyone calling for dialogue is labelled weak or disloyal.
This isn’t strategy; it’s a temper tantrum. And when global affairs are personalized—as they now are in the United States—you get impulsive and catastrophic decisions. One man can now declare trade war, order drone strikes, or upend treaties with a tweet. This is more autocratic than many of the so-called authoritarian regimes the West criticizes. In most countries, decisions go through councils or collective leadership. In the USA, it’s just the president and his phone.
The rest of the world sees through this. They may not say it publicly, but global leaders are increasingly skeptical of American intentions. They recognize that U.S. diplomacy is no longer grounded in reality or respect, but in a desperate bid to preserve an outdated hierarchy. They’re bracing for conflict not because they want one, but because they no longer believe the West, particularly the U.S., is acting in good faith.
All of this brings the world to the brink. The United States, untouchable by conventional threats, is steering itself toward the one existential danger it cannot afford: nuclear war. And it is doing so not out of necessity, but out of hubris. The US needs a radical reassessment of its place in the world. It needs to accept that being one of many powers is not a failure. It’s the natural, healthy progression of a world becoming more equitable, more interconnected and more just.
This isn’t a zero-sum game. The rise of China, India, Brazil or Africa doesn’t mean the fall of America. It just means the US is no longer the only one at the table. And instead of flipping it over, the US ought to pull up a chair and start listening. Because the world is no longer waiting for the US to lead—it’s moving forward with or without the US.
Editorial viewpoint based on Professor Jeffrey Sachs‘ analysis of current events.