The machinery of power is eroding, not disappearing overnight
Economist Mariana Mazzucato, speaking with EL PAÍS, has given public voice to a thesis long circulating in academic corridors: the era of unchallenged American global dominance has drawn to a close. Drawing on the long arc of Roman imperial decline, she frames the shift not as sudden rupture but as the slow unraveling of the conditions that once made hegemony self-sustaining. Her intervention matters less for its novelty than for what it signals — that multipolarity is no longer a fringe forecast but a structural reality serious thinkers are being asked to reckon with.
- Mazzucato's public declaration that American hegemony is over lands with the weight of institutional credibility, moving the conversation from the margins to the mainstream.
- The Roman Empire analogy sharpens the tension: decline is not a single event but a compounding erosion of fiscal capacity, ideological coherence, and competitive advantage.
- The dollar system, military reach, and technological lead that underwrote postwar order are not collapsing — but they are no longer sufficient to command the deference they once did.
- Peer competitors have learned to contest American dominance on its own terms, while domestic fiscal pressures and the limits of military force narrow the tools available to Washington.
- The world this diagnosis points toward is not a safer one — multipolarity demands negotiation where dictation once sufficed, and the old rules may simply no longer apply.
Mariana Mazzucato, the economist whose thinking on state capacity and innovation has shaped policy across Europe and beyond, used an interview with EL PAÍS to make a case that has been building in academic and strategic circles: the American century — defined by unchallenged global dominance — is over.
The historical parallel she chose was Rome. Not the dramatic fall, but the long, structural erosion: the loss of fiscal capacity to sustain presence everywhere at once, the fraying of ideological coherence, the emergence of rivals who had learned to compete on imperial terms. The dollar-based financial system, the military reach, the technological lead — none of these have vanished, but they no longer guarantee the compliance and deference that defined the postwar order.
What gives Mazzucato's intervention its weight is not that she is saying something entirely new. Scholars and strategists across the spectrum have been grappling with multipolarity as a structural fact. But when someone of her standing makes the case openly, it marks a shift — the conversation has left the margins.
Her framing also reflects a deeper change in how power itself is understood. American dominance was long treated as natural, almost inevitable. The newer view treats it as contingent — something that required specific conditions to sustain, and those conditions are changing. This is not triumphalism about decline; it is a sober acknowledgment that no hegemony endures forever.
The harder question is what follows. A multipolar world is not automatically more stable — it is simply one in which the United States must negotiate rather than dictate, where regional powers have more room, and where the architecture of the previous order may no longer hold. The task for policymakers is not to reverse what may be irreversible, but to navigate it with foresight.
Mariana Mazzucato, the economist whose work on innovation and state power has shaped policy conversations across Europe and beyond, sat down with EL PAÍS to discuss a thesis that has been gathering force in academic and policy circles: the American century, as a period of unchallenged global dominance, is finished.
The comparison she reached for was not subtle. The United States, Mazzucato argued, is experiencing something akin to what Rome faced in its final centuries—not a sudden collapse, but a slow erosion of the conditions that once made hegemony possible. The machinery of power that held sway for decades after 1945, the dollar-based financial system, the military reach, the technological lead—these things are not disappearing overnight. But they are no longer sufficient to guarantee the kind of deference and compliance that defined the postwar order.
What makes Mazzucato's intervention notable is not that she is alone in this observation. Scholars, strategists, and policymakers across the ideological spectrum have begun to grapple with multipolarity as a structural fact rather than a temporary condition. China's economic weight, the rise of regional powers, the fragmentation of technological leadership, the limits of military force in achieving political outcomes—these are not new observations. But when someone with Mazzucato's standing in debates about state capacity and innovation economics makes the case publicly, it signals that the conversation has moved beyond the margins.
The Roman analogy carries particular weight because it suggests something about the nature of decline itself. Rome did not lose its legions overnight. It lost the fiscal capacity to maintain them everywhere at once. It lost the ideological coherence that had bound its far-flung territories together. It faced rivals who had learned to compete on its own terms. The parallel invites uncomfortable questions about whether the United States faces similar structural constraints—whether the costs of maintaining global military presence, the fiscal pressures at home, the rise of peer competitors in technology and manufacturing, and the erosion of soft power add up to something more fundamental than a temporary adjustment.
Mazzucato's framing also reflects a shift in how economists and policy analysts are thinking about power itself. For much of the postwar period, American dominance was treated as natural, almost inevitable—the outcome of superior institutions, culture, and geography. The newer conversation treats it as contingent, as something that required specific conditions to sustain and that those conditions are changing. This is not triumphalism about American decline so much as a sober reckoning with the fact that no hegemony lasts forever.
The question that follows from Mazzucato's diagnosis is what comes next. A multipolar world is not automatically a more peaceful or stable one. It is simply different—one in which the United States must negotiate rather than dictate, where regional powers have more room to maneuver, and where the rules that governed the previous order may no longer hold. For policymakers in Washington and elsewhere, the challenge is not to reverse a process that may be irreversible, but to navigate it with some measure of foresight and restraint.
Citas Notables
The years of American hegemony have ended; we are witnessing the fall of the Roman Empire— Mariana Mazzucato, economist, in interview with EL PAÍS
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
When you say American hegemony has ended, do you mean it happened suddenly, or are we in the middle of it right now?
We're in the middle of it. Rome didn't wake up one morning as a second-rate power. The decline was visible to people living through it, but they couldn't quite believe it was happening. That's where we are now.
What made American dominance possible in the first place, in your view?
A combination of things—military capacity, yes, but also the dollar system, technological leadership, and crucially, the belief among other nations that the American order was preferable to the alternatives. That last part is harder to maintain when you're no longer clearly ahead.
Is this about China specifically, or something broader?
China is part of it, but it's not just about one rival. It's that the conditions that allowed one country to set the rules for everyone else have fragmented. Technology is distributed now. Manufacturing is distributed. Financial power is more diffuse.
Does this mean the U.S. becomes weak, or just less dominant?
Those are different things. Weak and dominant are not the same. A country can be quite strong and still have to negotiate rather than dictate. That's the adjustment ahead.
What should policymakers be doing differently?
Accepting the reality first. Then building relationships based on mutual interest rather than deference. The Roman comparison isn't about predicting catastrophe—it's about recognizing that empires that adapt survive longer than those that don't.