Why every empire eventually falls

Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Liverpool seemed to be an unstoppable football club, clinching trophy after trophy and blowing other teams away season after season. But that era came to an end in 1990, and the club didn’t win a league title for the next thirty years.

Enter Manchester United. Under Sir Alex Ferguson, they dominated those years. Their dominance seemed almost supernatural: multiple titles, and a squad brimming with quality and ambition. But in 2013, Sir Alex retired, and the club botched his succession. They haven’t recovered. They are now on their 8th manager, without a single major title.

Liverpool were stuck in the habits of an earlier era. United were centred on the fire and vision of Ferguson.

Going further back in time, the Roman Empire went on for 500 years, starting from 27 BC. At its height, it stretched across Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East, uniting diverse cultures and populations under Roman law, culture, and infrastructure. This powerful reach defined the ancient world, controlling key trade routes and creating iconic cities and structures.

That too didn’t last. From the 3rd century AD, internal instability, economic challenges, and constant invasions weakened the empire. By 476 AD, the Western Empire had fallen, though the Eastern Byzantine Empire endured for nearly a thousand more years.

In the late 16th century, Great Britain, a set of islands perched in the ocean on the edge of Europe, went on to found the British Empire and dominated the world for the next 400 years. It ruled over roughly a quarter of the global population. Its reach included large parts of Africa, the Indian subcontinent, Australia, Canada, and the Caribbean. In the 19th century this superpower was called the “Empire on which the sun never sets.”

But the sun did set.

The decline set in after World War II, when economic strain, anti-colonial movements, and shifting global power made Britain’s vast control untenable. Britain today is back to its beginnings, unable to even have influence over its European neighbours.

The United States picked up the slack after WWII. It became a global superpower, projecting economic, military, and cultural influence. It has dominated the world throughout my time on this planet. American brands, technology, and media are the symbols of modernity and progress.

Could that also crack? The signs are there. The world has become much more multipolar, as American politics becomes increasingly anti-globalist and centred on its own people.

Why does this always seem to happen? We humans have in-built flaws that militate against prolonged and sustained success. History repeatedly shows that even the most dominant will eventually blow it.

Most empires and organizations eventually fall—and it’s usually a mix of self-inflicted wounds and external pressures that bring them down. First, there’s overextension: success tempts expansion, but the complexity of managing sprawling operations can be crippling. Then there’s complacency: dominance breeds comfort—and inertia. The game moves on, but the players in charge are too cozy in their systems to keep up. Meanwhile, internal decay sets in—power consolidates, self-interest takes over, and the people who should be leading are too busy squabbling or pocketing rewards.

Add to this the pressure from new competition—nimble upstarts and bold innovators watch the complacency of the giants and get ready to seize the gaps. And lastly, cultural drift: societies and markets shift, but these empires don’t. They’re stuck in the old way of doing things, convinced the world revolves around their systems. It’s a pattern as old as time.

It need not be this way. If you have been in the game for a while, your dominance can be sustained, but it demands vigilance and a relentless commitment to reinvention. The first rule? Stay lean, no matter how big you get—keep the decision-making sharp, the hierarchies flat, and the ability to pivot alive. Don’t let bureaucracy bloat; let each layer add value or cut it out. Comfort is the enemy: stay restless. Success is a temporary state, and leaders should foster a culture that constantly questions and reimagines. Don’t let nostalgia confuse you; what worked yesterday can trap you tomorrow.

Excessive self-belief can cloud your judgement. Make friends with the outsiders—partner with upstarts, listen to critics, and hire rule-breakers. Innovation rarely comes from within the establishment, so bring in fresh thinkers who can spot the weaknesses you might ignore. Watch where culture is heading, not where it’s been, and be bold enough to abandon your old formula when it starts to look tired. Dominant organizations can stay dominant if they’re willing to lead the change.

Hubris and entitlement—these are the real pathogens that bring down empires. Success breeds arrogance, and arrogance blinds leaders to their vulnerabilities. Dominant players start believing they’re untouchable, that rules don’t apply, and that the market will always bend to their will. Entitlement is even more insidious: it’s the belief that you deserve your place at the top simply because you got there first. But the world doesn’t owe you anything. In the end it’s the slow rot of your own pride that kills you.

(Sunday Nation, 17 November 2024)

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