Michael: What if the greatest victory in modern history—America winning the Cold War—was actually the beginning of its downfall? That the very things that made America a superpower are now the source of its deepest crises. Kevin: Whoa, that's a heavy way to start. It sounds completely backward. Victory is supposed to be, well, victorious. The idea that winning was the start of losing is a fascinating, if unsettling, thought. Michael: It’s a wild idea, and it’s at the heart of our discussion today. That provocative thought comes directly from the pages of a book that’s been on my mind for a while: After the Fall: Being American in the World We’ve Made by Ben Rhodes. Kevin: Right, and this isn't just another pundit's take. Rhodes was deep inside the Obama White House as a deputy national security advisor. He wrote this book after being completely shocked by the 2016 election, and he literally traveled the world—to Russia, China, Hungary—to figure out what went wrong. It's part memoir, part global investigation. Michael: Exactly. He had a front-row seat to American power, and then he stepped outside to see what that power had actually built. And what he found was a world that was turning away from the American model, often using America's own tools against it. His journey starts with that central paradox.

Michael: Rhodes kicks things off with a powerful observation. He says that after the Soviet Union collapsed, America felt triumphant. It was the "end of history," democracy and capitalism had won. But he argues that the very forces that got us there—unfettered capitalism, military dominance, and new technology—were about to boomerang. Kevin: Okay, I need you to break that down. How did our greatest strengths become our weaknesses? Because on the surface, a strong economy, a powerful military, and technological innovation sound like a winning combination. Michael: They do, until they're "unbridled," as Rhodes puts it. He points to this kind of unholy trinity of decline. First, you have unchecked capitalism and globalization. The idea was that it would lift all boats, but instead, it created staggering inequality and led directly to the 2008 financial crisis, which shattered global faith in the American model. Kevin: That makes sense. The 2008 crisis felt like the moment the curtain was pulled back, and everyone saw the wizard was just frantically pulling levers. Michael: Precisely. The second force was our unchecked military power. After 9/11, we launched the "War on Terror," a conflict without clear enemies, borders, or end dates. These "forever wars" drained trillions of dollars, cost hundreds of thousands of lives, and eroded America's moral authority. And the third force? Unchecked technology. Kevin: Ah, social media. The great connector. Michael: The great connector that also became the great divider. Platforms designed in Silicon Valley to bring people together were perfectly engineered to spread disinformation, amplify outrage, and tear at the social fabric, not just in the U.S., but everywhere. Rhodes has this incredibly personal story that captures the feeling of it all. Kevin: I’m curious. How does he make this giant, abstract idea feel personal? Michael: He talks about having a panic attack. In 2006, before he joined the Obama campaign, he was driving from New York to D.C. on I-95. He was leaving a life he loved in New York for the high-stakes world of Washington politics. And on that drive, he's suddenly overwhelmed by this physical sensation—tingling in his arm, a crushing weight on his chest. He thinks he's having a heart attack. Kevin: Oh man, that's terrifying. Michael: He pulls over, calls 911, gets rushed to a hospital. The doctor eventually tells him it's "just" a panic attack. But for Rhodes, looking back, that moment was a metaphor. He was on this road, this artery of the American dream, surrounded by the machinery of modern life, and he was seized by this overwhelming anxiety, this feeling that the whole system was fundamentally unsustainable and that he was trapped inside it. It was a personal crisis that mirrored a national one. Kevin: Wow. So the anxiety he felt in his own body was a reflection of the anxiety simmering in the country itself. But Michael, weren't globalization and the internet supposed to be forces for good? Weren't they supposed to spread democracy and understanding? Michael: That was the promise. That was the story we told ourselves. But Rhodes's point is that these were incredibly powerful tools that we released into the world without any real thought for the consequences. It’s like we built a car with the world's most powerful engine but forgot to install brakes or a steering wheel. We had all this power, but we lost control of the narrative and, in many ways, of the world we were creating.

Kevin: Okay, so America accidentally creates this chaotic, unstable global environment. That seems like the perfect opportunity for some bad actors to step in. This is where the 'Authoritarian Playbook' comes into play, right? Michael: Exactly. Rhodes travels to places like Hungary and Russia and finds that leaders there have become masters at exploiting the very weaknesses America created. They didn't invent a new form of politics; they just picked up the tools America left lying around. He tells the story of Viktor Orbán in Hungary, which is just fascinating and terrifying. Kevin: I've heard his name a lot. What's his story, according to Rhodes? Michael: Orbán was once a liberal, anti-communist hero. But he saw an opportunity. After the 2008 financial crisis hit Hungary hard, he tapped into the economic anxiety and a sense of lost national pride. He started using this rhetoric of "taking our country back," railing against global elites, immigrants, and liberal institutions. He consolidated power by attacking the press, packing the courts, and rewriting history to create a 'blood-and-soil' nationalism. Kevin: That sounds... disturbingly familiar. Michael: It's meant to. Rhodes is essentially holding up a mirror. He's showing that the playbook Orbán used—capitalizing on economic grievance, stoking cultural resentment, and portraying himself as the strongman who can restore a mythical past—is almost identical to the one that gained traction in the United States. Kevin: That's genuinely chilling. When Rhodes describes Orbán's tactics, it's impossible not to see the echoes in American politics. Is Rhodes basically saying the US is on the path to becoming Hungary? Michael: He sees it as a spectrum of authoritarianism, and America has been dangerously sliding along it. But the book isn't just about the villains. It's also about the heroes who fight back. And for that, he turns to Russia and the story of Alexey Navalny. Kevin: A figure of incredible courage. Michael: Absolutely. If Putin represents the cynical master of the playbook—using corruption as a tool of statecraft and disinformation to sow chaos—Navalny represents the opposite. He’s a man who dedicated his life to exposing that very corruption. He used humor and the internet to show ordinary Russians how the system was rigged, how Putin's cronies were stealing the country's wealth. Kevin: And they tried to kill him for it. Michael: They poisoned him with a Novichok nerve agent. He nearly died. And what did he do after recovering in Germany? He flew right back to Russia, knowing he would be arrested the moment he landed. Rhodes presents this as the ultimate act of defiance. Navalny refused to let fear dictate his life or the future of his country. His fight is a reminder that even in the darkest of places, there are people willing to risk everything for the idea of a better, more honest nation.

Michael: Exactly. And while Russia and Hungary are focused on exploiting the cracks in the old system, Rhodes argues there's a far more profound challenge on the horizon: China, which is building an entirely new one. Kevin: This feels like a different level of threat. Putin seems to want to break things, but you're saying China wants to build something else entirely. Michael: That's the core of it. Rhodes describes a dinner he attended with Obama and Xi Jinping in Beijing. He was struck by Xi's demeanor. Unlike other world leaders who seemed anxious or defensive, Xi was utterly calm, confident, and methodical. He was a man who believed history was on his side. Rhodes realized he was looking at the leader of a country that wasn't just rising anymore—it had risen. Kevin: And what is this new model they're building? You mentioned 'techno-totalitarianism' before. That sounds like something out of Blade Runner. What does that actually mean for a regular person living in China? Michael: It means a society where technology is used to perfect authoritarian control. Think of a social credit system that tracks your every purchase, your online comments, your social connections. It means hundreds of millions of surveillance cameras powered by facial recognition AI. Rhodes takes us to the most extreme example: the Xinjiang region, where over a million Uighur Muslims have been forced into re-education camps. It's a horrifying, real-world laboratory for this new model, where the goal is not just to control behavior, but to re-engineer thought and identity itself. Kevin: My god. But what makes the China model so... seductive? Why would any other country choose that? Michael: Because China offers a deal. A very tempting one. The deal is: give up your messy, unpredictable democratic freedoms, and in return, we will give you stability, security, and economic prosperity. After the world watched the West stumble through the 2008 financial crisis and then the chaotic response to the COVID-19 pandemic, that deal started to look a lot more attractive to a lot of countries. Kevin: And they export this control, too. I'm thinking of the story with the NBA, where a single tweet from a team manager in support of Hong Kong protesters nearly brought the entire league to its knees because of Chinese market pressure. Michael: A perfect example. China is showing the world that you can have the economic benefits of globalization without any of the pesky democratic values attached. It's a new operating system for the 21st century, and it's challenging the very idea of what it means to be free.

Kevin: So after this world tour of democratic decline and rising autocracy, is this book just a total downer? Where does Rhodes leave us? It feels pretty bleak. Michael: It's a sobering diagnosis, for sure, but it's not without hope. Rhodes argues that the way forward isn't about trying to restore some past American glory. That ship has sailed. The hope, he suggests, lies in looking at the dissidents and protesters he met—the young people in Hong Kong, the activists in Hungary, figures like Navalny in Russia—and recognizing that they are fighting for the very ideals America claims to champion. The hope lies in rediscovering our own story by seeing it reflected in their struggle. Kevin: So it's about finding solidarity with others who are fighting the same fight, even if they're on the other side of the world. Michael: Precisely. And it's about being honest with ourselves. He closes with a powerful idea from the great writer James Baldwin, who said: "American history is longer, larger, more various, more beautiful, and more terrible than anything anyone has ever said about it." Kevin: I love that quote. Michael: Rhodes's point is that for too long, we've only focused on the 'beautiful' parts of that story. To have any real claim to our future, we have to finally, honestly confront the 'terrible' parts—the racism, the inequality, the unintended consequences of our power. That's where the potential for renewal lies. Kevin: It really leaves you with a profound question: What does it mean to be an American in this world we've made, and what part will we play in what comes next? Michael: A question for all of us to answer. Michael: This is Aibrary, signing off.