It’s never pleasant to watch an empire fall apart, especially one next door. But that’s what we’re seeing now in the United States: a superpower devouring itself in real time.

The assassination of Charlie Kirk was not the cause of America’s crisis, only a symptom. Accusations devoid of fact ran wild. The country has been drifting toward this kind of fracture for years. As Abraham Lincoln warned, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” The old unity of purpose has collapsed, replaced by tribal politics and mutual contempt.

The latest congressional shutdowns aren’t about fiscal policy or ideology; they’re about paralysis. The Republican Party is split between those who fear U.S. President Donald Trump and those who worship him. Democrats—though representing tens of millions of Americans—can do little more than watch the wreckage pile up. The world’s oldest democracy has become hostage to its own dysfunction.

Beneath the noise lies a more fundamental problem: the money is running out. U.S. public debt now equals the size of the entire economy, and is heading toward 120 per cent of GDP within a decade. Servicing that debt will swallow funds once meant for infrastructure, research, or defence. The fiscal room for manoeuvre is vanishing.

Trump will almost certainly try to massage the numbers, suppressing inconvenient statistics and leaning on the Federal Reserve to print prosperity. That is the kind of thing fragile empires do on the way down. Rating agencies have noticed, and so have investors. The dollar’s mystique as the world’s safe haven is not what it once was.

When confidence in a currency falters, confidence in the empire behind it follows. America’s soft power has eroded, too. Fewer people abroad admire it, and fewer governments trust it. Cuts to foreign aid and “America First” rhetoric have done lasting damage. For decades, the U.S. led by attraction; now it leads mostly by habit, and even that is wearing thin.

The military machine still runs, but it is coughing. Recruitment is down, maintenance is behind, and technical expertise is stretched. The Pentagon can still fight, but not everywhere, not indefinitely, and not without strain. Once, the U.S. could impose its will on multiple fronts; now it struggles to sustain a long deployment without cutting corners.

Then there is China. The contest between Washington and Beijing is no longer rhetorical; it is structural. Each is trying to wall off the other from the technologies that define the future: semiconductors, artificial intelligence, advanced manufacturing. The result is a slow decoupling of the global economy, one that hurts everyone but is politically irresistible on both sides.

Meanwhile, America’s relations with its allies have become increasingly transactional. Tariffs, threats, and trade disputes have replaced the language of shared purpose. You cannot build coalitions that way for long. Short-term wins for domestic politics mean long-term erosion of trust abroad.

So yes, the American empire is in decline, slowly, unevenly, but unmistakably. And that decline—once it becomes a story the rest of the world believes—begins to feed on itself. Investors pull back, allies hedge their bets, and rivals grow bolder. The perception of weakness creates the reality of it.

Where does that leave Canada? Stuck, mostly. We cannot get out of the way. Two centuries of economic integration, shared infrastructure, and cultural interdependence make that impossible. But we cannot afford blind loyalty, either.

Prime Minister Mark Carney’s push to diversify trade and dismantle domestic barriers is necessary, if overdue. Success will require prying open the protectionist instincts of provincial and territorial premiers, and finding partners abroad who see Canada as more than an American appendage. That will not be easy, but neither is drifting down with the ship.

The fall of empires is rarely sudden, and the U.S. still has vast resources, deep talent, and real resilience. But it has also lost the one thing that sustained its global role: confidence, both in itself and from others.

For Canada, the task is to adapt before the cracks widen. Build new partnerships, strengthen our own institutions, and learn to navigate a world where America’s shadow no longer covers everything. The empire next door is fading. The question is whether we can adjust before the lights go out.

John McKay is a senior associate with David Pratt & Associates. He previously served as the Liberal MP for Scarborough–Guildwood, Ont., and is a former chair of the House Standing Committee on National Defence.

The Hill Times