• Failing infrastructure is an ominous symptom of an empire in decline—just ask the Ancient Romans
  • Without strong, government-led infrastructure investment to support AI, the U.S. economy will collapse like a house of cards
  • Historian Edward Gibbon warned that Rome fell due to “immoderate greatness”—today, America is over-weighted on that very trait 

I generally steer clear of drawing parallels between the current situation in the United States and the fall of the Roman Empire. It’s the sort of thing that Englishmen like me (of a certain age, with a classical education) tend to do way too much of. However, the similarities are now so screamingly obvious that I’m going to make an exception.  

Most historians say Rome failed because, in the 3rd and 4th centuries AD, it was constantly getting invaded by large, hairy men wearing fur, using blunt instruments and employing harsh language. Technically, that’s accurate, but it’s not the root cause. The reason the large hairy men were able to invade Rome, repeatedly, was that it had been critically weakened by a combination of two factors.  

The first was political: the shift away from the Roman Empire’s fanatical adherence to the core principles of public service and republicanism, in favor of individual self-interest, dictators and Emperors—all accompanied by rampant corruption. The second factor was a decline in morality, dignity and decorum (sound familiar?).  

What have the Romans done for us? 

Things become even more interesting—and more relevant to the current situation in America—when you consider the most significant symptom of Rome’s decline, which was… anyone? That’s right: the failure of its world-leading infrastructure.  

In its heyday, Rome was the infrastructure GOAT. There were the Roman roads (a conceptual precursor to Roosevelt’s Interstate Highway System); legendary aqueducts and water management schemes; and construction breakthroughs like concrete and arches, which enabled the building of the first multi-story tenement buildings (the skyscrapers of ancient times) and, of course, the Colosseum.  

But that was before Lucius Cornelius Sulla rocked up in the first century BC, stared Rome’s Senate in the eye—and it blinked. Now, Sulla was a larger-than-life figure, a maverick, known for his unusual complexion, which the Greeks famously joked made him look like a bright red mulberry covered in oatmeal (Σύλλαν εἶναιμούρον ἀλφίτῳ πεπασμένον).  

As a politician, Sulla was capable of flashes of generosity and charm, but he also had a ruthless, bullying streak, frequently employing violence against his political enemies. He was also—and this is crucial—the first Roman to successfully defy the Roman Republic’s ad hoc constitution and challenge the authority of its governing establishment, thereby establishing a precedent that was the fundamental catalyst for the fall of the Republic he claimed to save, five centuries later.  

Anyone familiar with Sulla will be getting waves of déjà vu—as well as nausea—watching what Donald Trump is doing in America right now. Like his Roman antecedent, he has demonstrated that when confronted by a determined narcissist, a sacred constitution is not worth the parchment it’s written on. 

And that’s why what happened to Rome two thousand years ago is so crucial to understanding what may happen to America in the next twenty-five.  

Look on my works  

It was during the post-Sulla phase of Rome’s history that Rome’s dictators and Emperors slowly forgot about critical infrastructure. That’s not to say they stopped building “stuff” altogether. But rather than public works, they gradually segued to constructing numerous gauche, non-essential projects designed to display their immense wealth and power.  

Nero's Domus Aurea, or Golden House, was a massive pleasure palace built alongside his existing house (which had a facade made of WHITE marble and stucco) at vast expense and involving the destruction of existing historic architecture. (This ringing any bells for you?) 

Then there were the triumphal arches. Long before Napoleon’s Arc de Triomphe, Emperors Constantine, Septimius Severus and Titus had all put up their own massive arches to celebrate just how awesome they were. And who doesn’t like a lovely big arch?  

In the meantime, the public utilities went to shit—literally. Just like Thames Water’s customers today, the Romans had to get used to drinking new, brown, chunky-style water. Additionally, the roads deteriorated, food supplies became less reliable, public buildings fell into disrepair and people were generally unhappy.  

The Roman Empire lasted a thousand years, and it took half that time for it to decline to the point of collapse. America, which has only been a country for a quarter of that time, is about to reach its breaking point much sooner—thanks to modern technology, specifically AI.  

Artificial intelligence is a double-edged gladius. It can act as an accelerant to the entire global economy, but it will also punish those nations that aren’t ready for it. And, thanks to America’s governmental failure to invest in public infrastructure like electricity and water since the 1970s, it is now well past the point where, even if it were willing to do so, it has any hope of building the AI infrastructure necessary in time to preserve its global economic leadership.  

The current administration is also exacerbating its own decline through its treatment of America’s poorest citizens. The Roman Emperors didn’t care much about the poor either, but they were smart enough to ensure that those clinging to the bottom rung always had enough to eat, employing the strategy of panem et circenses—bread and circuses—to maintain public order. In contrast, American leadership just won a fight to prevent the distribution of food to the deprived unless they gave up their access to healthcare—reflecting both a failure of morality and a disastrously ill-conceived socio-political strategy.  

In the same vein, while wealth inequality was a part of Roman life, the gulf between its richest citizen, Crassus, and its lowest sculcor was a fraction of the ever-widening divide that now separates America’s minimum-wage workers from aspiring trillionaires like Elon Musk and his revolting plutocrat ilk.  

Sic transit gloria mundi 

Look, I’m well aware that history is like a horoscope—peer at it long enough and you can make it mean whatever you want. But unless you’re the Secretary of America’s Department of Getting-Tanked-By-Ten-In-The-Morning, it’s impossible not to see the parallels between Rome’s collapse and the precarious state of modern-day America.  

Just think about that as you watch the live broadcast of this administration’s troupe of drunks, criminals, toadies and plastic-surgeried circus freaks walking over filthy, potholed roads lined by the homeless and the poor, protected by unconstitutionally federalized National Guardsmen, as they pass beneath the Arc de Trump to do key bumps in the bathroom of the President’s shiny new Golden Ballroom/pleasure dome.  

Wake up, America! These people are destroying your country’s future, one failing utility at a time—and y’all are letting it happen. 

Steve Saunders is a British-born communications analyst, investor and digital media entrepreneur with a career spanning decades.


Op-eds from industry experts, analysts or our editorial staff are opinion pieces that do not represent the opinions of Fierce Network.