08/21/2026
What if America’s relationship with power isn’t just political—but psychological?
America is a relatively young nation that became a global superpower incredibly quickly.
Meanwhile, civilizations like China, India, Egypt, Persia, Greece, and Japan have histories spanning thousands of years. Their histories are also filled with warfare, conquest, imperialism, and political violence—so this isn’t about romanticizing “older civilizations” as inherently peaceful.
It’s about something else:
What does thousands of years of collective historical memory do to the way a civilization understands power, change, and decline?
And what happens when a young nation builds so much of its identity around being the strongest, the leader, the exceptional one, the number one?
When power becomes part of your identity, challenges to your power can start feeling like challenges to your very existence.
And psychologically, that can create a constant need to compete, dominate, intervene, and demonstrate strength.
We see versions of this in individuals, too.
Sometimes the person who most desperately needs to prove their strength is actually the person who feels the least secure in it.
Maybe the same question applies to nations:
What would it look like for America to feel secure enough that it didn’t always have to prove it was the most powerful?
Because perhaps the highest form of power isn’t dominance.
Perhaps it’s security.