The SenseMaker

Peter Heather joined the department of Medieval History at King’s College in January 2008 as the Chair of Medieval History. He was educated at Maidstone Grammar School, before moving to New College Oxford to complete his undergraduate degree and doctoral work. Prior to joining King’s, Peter Heather worked at University College London, Yale University and Worcester College, Oxford.

John Rapley is a political economist specialised in global development, the world economy and economic history. Born, raised and educated in Canada, he returned to his parents’ old meeting-ground, Oxford, on a post-doctoral fellowship. After launching his academic career there in the Department of International Development, Rapley decided to immerse himself in his subject by moving to the developing world. There, he spent the next two decades working as an academic, journalist and ultimately the creator of a think tank (the Caribbean Policy Research Institute). After helping governments navigate the 2008 financial crisis, he returned to Britain, making his home at the University of Cambridge.

Amogh Rai: Welcome both of you. Today, we have an exciting discussion lined up with historian Peter Heather and economist John Rapley, co-authors of Why Empires Fall: Rome, America, and the Future of the West.

Your book examines the West as both a geographical and economic entity. But you also argue that its future depends on broadening its definition. Could you elaborate on that?

Peter Heather: Yes, we argue that the West has traditionally been seen as Europe and North America. However, for it to have a future, it must expand beyond its hegemonic roots and become a more inclusive entity, incorporating societies that share fundamental values such as the rule of law and democracy. Many Asian and African countries already align with these values. If the West remains exclusive, it risks stagnation.

John Rapley: Absolutely. Historically, the West began as a relatively small economic and cultural sphere. Over time, colonial expansion created a core-periphery dynamic, but now the periphery is growing in influence. This shift is evident—intellectually, economically, and even culturally. Many ideas that appear “foreign” to the West today actually originate from this expanded periphery, just as British cuisine once absorbed curry. The periphery now shapes the core, and that is unsettling for some.

Amogh Rai: The book suggests that while rising powers challenge Western dominance, it is actually the West itself that is dismantling much of its own progress. How do you see this tension playing out?

Peter Heather: There is a great deal of nostalgia-driven rhetoric about so-called traditional values, particularly in places like Hungary or parts of the United States. Policies encouraging higher birth rates as an alternative to immigration have been attempted, but they have not reversed demographic trends. The reality is that the world has changed. Some nationalist elements are desperately clinging to an era that has passed. As a historian, I see this as part of a larger transition—Western societies grappling with the loss of uncontested global dominance.

John Rapley: If we take a longer view, civilisations evolve. Christianity, for example, is often regarded as a European religion, but its origins lie in Mesopotamia. Over time, its centre of gravity shifted, and now the developing world is its stronghold. Similarly, power and influence in the modern world are shifting away from the historical Western core. The challenge for the West is to adapt rather than resist this transformation.

You cannot claim that Christianity is in decline simply because it has become a minority religion in the Middle East or is shrinking in Europe. It has spread elsewhere, and the same logic applies to Western traditions. Take South Africa—when it took Israel to the International Court, it was upholding values of universal rights that many Western countries, particularly the United States, appeared to have abandoned.

Democracy, too, is under strain in the United States, but it is thriving in many developing countries. This reflects a broader trend—cultural and economic influence follows development. Consider Korea: in the 1950s, its films mimicked Hollywood but lacked confidence. As the economy grew, Korea developed its own hybrid model, and now Korean culture is a global export. The same applies to Bollywood. Economic growth fuels creative confidence, allowing these industries to compete on the world stage.

Despite the turmoil in the West, I remain optimistic. Some wish to freeze the past, such as JD Vance’s vision of Christianity as a European institution, but history does not work that way. The Western tradition will likely endure—perhaps under a different name—because it is being kept alive in parts of the world that still uphold its core values.

Amogh Rai: That is interesting, especially with your example of South Africa. It reminds me of The West Wing, where the fictional US president references Roman history, saying a citizen could walk to the empire’s edge and invoke Civis Romanus sum— “I am a Roman citizen,” ensuring imperial protection. That moment in the show reflected American power at its peak in 1999, which your book marks as the apogee of the Western empire.

Yet, globalisation was meant to integrate the world economically, but many contributors to that project now feel sidelined. Since writing the book, do you think the concept of Western values has diverged from what it once was? Would a 19th-century British observer recognise the 1999 Western dominance as its natural evolution, or would it seem entirely foreign?

John Rapley: A 19th-century Briton would likely struggle with Britain’s diminished role in 1999, realising its fate was dictated by a new imperial centre—the United States. Forward-looking thinkers might have predicted America’s rise, but accepting Britain as a secondary power would have been difficult. Even today, many Britons resist this reality. Brexit, for instance, was driven in part by the idea that Britain could reclaim its former independence rather than being tied to larger economies.

Now, the United States is experiencing a similar reckoning. Just as Britain and France had to accept their imperial decline after the Second World War, America is beginning that transition, though many are unwilling to acknowledge it.
Regarding marginalised voices—those previously unheard are now part of the global discourse, and that discomfort is driving resistance. JD Vance’s scepticism of Pope Francis, for example, is not just ideological; it reflects unease with a Church now shaped by Latin American influences rather than European traditions.
Western thought itself has become more fluid. While neoliberalism is often seen as a Western construct, many of its intellectual architects were from India and Africa, and some of its strongest resistance came from Western universities. The marketplace of ideas is shifting, and Western conservatives find themselves challenged by perspectives they previously ignored.

Peter Heather: I completely agree. As a medieval historian, I think in millennia. The Industrial Revolution took generations to unfold, and adjusting to the loss of empire is similarly slow. That is no comfort to those caught in the upheaval, but it explains why the old imperial mindset is not disappearing easily.

Look at how many wars Britain, France, and even the Dutch fought after the Second World War to cling to their colonies. The United States is now in a similar phase—many in its leadership are not yet ready to acknowledge that the world has changed. But history moves forward, whether they like it or not.

Even when the fundamentals change, the consequences take time to unfold. That is especially true for Western traditions, which have always been contested spaces. If you look back to 1899, Britain was experiencing major internal struggles—women were fighting for the vote, and the working class was organising politically. The West has always been about expanding rights, albeit slowly and often reluctantly.
The best part of the Western tradition is its eventual commitment to fairness, equal treatment under the law, and a willingness—sometimes forced—to listen to new voices. This process is never smooth, but historically, it has been inevitable.

Amogh Rai: That brings me to a historical perspective you engage with in the book. You reference historian Niall Ferguson’s 2015 article, but I was also reminded of David Halberstam’s The Next Century, which explored the Soviet Empire. He once described George W. Bush as someone who suddenly began invoking history to justify his decisions, despite previously relying on instinct and faith.

Today, everyone seems to be a historian—especially on Twitter. Leaders like Vladimir Putin regularly frame their politics through sweeping historical narratives, while figures like Elon Musk claim to be saving civilisation from collapse. Given that your book argues historical processes unfold gradually and that the periphery plays a greater role than internal decay, why do you remain cautious about the future of the West?

John Rapley: I wouldn’t say I’m pessimistic about the West, but the key argument we make is that the West and the rest are not separate entities. The West only became what it is by extracting resources, labour, and value from the periphery. In turn, this process developed the periphery to the point where it now challenges the old core.

The mistake figures like Musk, Trump, and Farage make is thinking that the West rose independently. They see a rigid divide between the West and the rest when, in reality, the two have always been interconnected. Musk, for instance, grew up in apartheid South Africa, and some argue his worldview reflects nostalgia for a past where a privileged elite controlled access to resources.

This defensive, fortress-like mentality is captured brilliantly in J.M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians. The book explores how empires, in their attempts to defend civilisation, often commit the very barbaric acts they claim to oppose. Today, we see the same pattern—figures like Trump suggesting total destruction (e.g., turning Gaza into a beach resort) as a means of preserving civilisation.

Peter Heather: A major realisation while writing this book was that empires aren’t static entities—they are dynamic systems. They don’t just consist of a dominant core but rely on a periphery that feeds wealth, labour, and value into the system. Over time, the periphery develops to the point where this structure stops functioning as it once did.

You can’t turn back the clock. America will never again dominate global industrial production as it did in the mid-20th century. It might re-industrialise for domestic needs, but the era of American factories supplying the world is over.

Amogh Rai: That brings us to the economic argument in your book. You critique the nostalgia-driven movements like Brexit and Make America Great Again, which assume that with the right tax policies and trade barriers, industries will return to the West. Yet, despite resistance to this idea initially, recent political shifts—particularly in the US—suggest a resurgence of economic triumphalism.

Why are we seeing this renewed confidence? The US struggles with poor health and education outcomes, yet the rhetoric suggests its global economic dominance is being restored. What has actually changed?

John Rapley: Not much, fundamentally. The rhetoric has shifted, but the reality remains the same. Take Trump’s approach—he threatened Canada with 25% tariffs, and in response, Canada announced new border patrol measures and a fentanyl czar. Trump spun this as a victory, but in reality, those measures had already been planned and announced in Canada weeks earlier.

Similarly, we hear pledges of investment in America, but until we see actual results, I remain sceptical. Meanwhile, economic uncertainty under Trump’s policies has led to slowing investment. Businesses don’t know what tariffs or policies will stick, which creates hesitation.

It’s great political theatre, but in economic terms, it doesn’t mean much.

John Rapley: Trump’s economic policies are unsustainable. I’d confidently predict that within a year, the US economy will be in a recession, potentially with a sharp market correction. This would leave Trump with bigger problems, especially with the midterm elections looming. Historically, the incumbent party loses seats, and given his weak mandate and falling approval ratings, Republicans are likely to lose the House. If that happens, Trump becomes a lame-duck president—he can make noise and cause damage, but he won’t be able to push through major domestic policies.

If other world leaders are smart, they’ll band together and respond forcefully. Canada, for instance, retaliated with its own tariff threats, which forced Trump to delay his actions. I expect he’ll keep pushing deadlines forward indefinitely. His approach plays well with his audience, but it isn’t fundamentally altering the global economic landscape—it’s mostly damaging the US economy.

Peter Heather: Exactly. None of the fundamentals are changing. Trump isn’t reducing American debt; he’s likely adding to it. His tax cuts primarily benefit the wealthy, while most voters wanted lower petrol prices or cheaper essentials—things that won’t happen. If inflation spikes, there will be serious trouble.

Unless he changes the Constitution, he can’t run again after two years, making him a lame-duck president by default. The Republican succession battle will be brutal, and while Trump will continue proclaiming his greatness, his actual ability to reshape structures is limited.

As a historian, I’ve never subscribed to the “great man” theory of history, and I don’t buy it now. There’s a lot of noise, but the underlying numbers and structures remain unchanged. Trump operates on loyalty rather than policy—if you flatter him, he rewards you. But that doesn’t change economic realities.

Amogh Rai: That ties into a major theme in your book—the administrative complexity of empires making them resistant to change. Today, regulations are multiplying, often originating in the EU before being adopted globally. But during COVID-19, regulations also faced backlash.

In India, for example, labour laws were relaxed to attract investment from China, removing union rights and shifting wages to a market-based system. Meanwhile, in the US, aid for global health initiatives like HIV treatments has been abruptly halted. Have there been similar moments in history where empires made such drastic, short-sighted decisions?

John Rapley: COVID-19 accelerated existing trends, particularly the relative decline of the West. We saw political turmoil intensify, and while it’s still unfolding, I suspect historians will mark it as a turning point. It’s challenging to analyse in real time, but my next book will explore this further.

Peter Heather: Pre-modern states had much smaller revenue streams and didn’t fund extensive social programmes. They focused on military power and patronage for elites, so decisions didn’t have the same sweeping impact. However, we do see parallels in reckless leadership.

Take Emperor Valentinian I—he staged military actions against groups that were willing to maintain peaceful relations just to appear strong. He also devalued diplomatic gifts that frontier leaders relied on to maintain stability. This triggered chaos along Rome’s borders, all because he was more focused on appeasing his base than maintaining long-term stability. Similarly, Trump’s actions create instability, but they primarily serve his political image rather than strategic governance.

Amogh Rai: That brings me to climate change. Historically, environmental shifts have driven major regime changes, yet today, we see fierce resistance to acknowledging or addressing it. Two years ago, ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) investing was booming—now, major corporations are quietly backing away. Some tech giants are even investing in mini nuclear reactors. Is this just another cycle of denial, or is it something new?

John Rapley: We discussed climate change while writing the book but realised it deserved its own analysis. If climate collapse occurs, all other debates become irrelevant. That’s why isolationism is so dangerous—solving climate change requires international cooperation.

What’s interesting is that despite the political shift, long-term investors are resisting this anti-ESG push. Pension fund managers, for example, need to think 40 years ahead, not just about quarterly returns. They see climate risks as real and are pushing back against short-term profit motives.

Even in the US energy sector, utilities recognise that if Trump rolls back renewables, they’ll face power shortages because renewable energy is now the cheapest option. Trump believes he can stop these changes through sheer willpower, but the market forces at play are much bigger than him.

Amogh Rai: That’s a hopeful take. Finally, let’s talk about the financial system. Global finance is deeply interconnected—Chinese investments fuel Indian markets, and Indian firms rely on American capital. Yet, financial backers of Brexit and Trump were some of the earliest adopters of economic nationalism. Historically, financial power thrives on integration. So why do we see financial elites pushing for isolationism?

John Rapley: It’s crucial to differentiate within the financial sector. Many major banks opposed Brexit because they knew it would hurt them, but hedge funds and certain investors backed it because they saw opportunities in economic instability.
There’s money to be made in decline. Security companies profit from crime, traders exploit scarcity in civil wars, and certain sectors benefit from Brexit-related market chaos. These actors drive nationalist economic policies, not because they believe in them, but because they profit from them.

Similarly, in the US, major corporations weren’t enthusiastic about Trump’s first campaign, but now, tech oligarchs like Elon Musk see financial incentives in aligning with his administration.

They’re betting on government contracts, not economic stability.

Peter Heather: Exactly. Big capitalists prefer monopolies. They make the most money when they can predict outcomes and manipulate them. Many businesses hedge their bets, funding both political parties to ensure they have influence regardless of who wins.

Musk, for example, isn’t interested in the well-being of the average American—he’s focused on maximising his own profits. This is classic capitalism: monopolise where you can, and manipulate uncertainty to your advantage.

Amogh Rai: That’s a fascinating perspective to end on. Thank you both for your insights.