We have a ringside seat to the fall of the US

It feels extraordinary that in our lifetime we’re witnessing the fall of the greatest civilisation on earth, writes Nikki Gemmell. Picture: AFP

So to the death of great nations, and the myths and stories we tell ourselves to comprehend, to soothe. Because do we ever want to confront the brutal truths as they happen, right before us; to admit how vulnerable and blinded we really are?

So how instructive, how intriguing, that within the span of our lifetime we are seeing the decline of a great civilisation. The fall of the Roman Empire, ah yes, we read about that one; and now, in real time, we’re seeing the fall of America – we have front rows seats to this tragedy. And despite the collective trauma it is compelling, as these wanings always are. But like the lesson in Ozymandias, we never learn.

For America the great, things will only get worse. This is the land of old men clinging to power to the detriment of the world around them – refusing to cede to leaner, more nimble narratives. Our supreme model of western civilisation, throughout our lifetime, is now riven with stubborn and self-destructive enmities. And in a triumph of gerontocracy, Biden, 80, and Trump, 77, are once again frontline contenders for the 2024 presidency. For God’s sake, let go. Let someone else have a turn. For the sake of your nation.

Growing up it was a given that muscular America was the greatest nation on earth. The fabled land of moon landings, Guggenheims, Disneyland; we all wanted to feel the warmth from its star-spangled halo. But now, looking from afar, who would want to raise children there? With its daily mass shootings in benign places. Opioid and fentanyl crises facing off against the new zombie contender, tranq, that eats the flesh of the damned. The dystopian will to control women’s bodies in a post-Roe world that feels more frightening than anything that’s gone before it. The roar of the culture wars.

The wagons are circling in a fearful and fractured nation, and it feels like there’s no way out of this mess. There’s no prospect of a great unifier on the horizon. The American dream is over. A proposed cage fight between those unprincipled princelings, Musk and Zuck, encapsulates precisely where we are now. These are not serious people.

And into the breach, the rise of new world orders, of fresh economic powerhouses buying up our sports and our industries. Meanwhile, the drums of war beat a tattoo – those in the know think 2025 – please no, and what fresh humiliations from Australia’s master state await. Ever the lapdog, we will yap in obedience of course. Meanwhile, Biden doesn’t have time to visit us.

The Titan’s monstrous expedition was an indulgent stickybeak into a tomb. Picture: AFP

And now, the story of the Titan submersible – a parable of America the Failed. Of overweening pride and its punishment. Of the dangers of messing with nature. Of a flawed hero with untrammelled confidence that his dodgy creation would work – a camping light, for God’s sake, a games console. This is not a story of heroes but fools, and the greatest tragedy is a 19 year old, in his prime, sacrificed on the altar of reckless, aged stubbornness.

The submersible – created in that isthmus of modern mythmaking, Seattle – was called the Titan, namechecking the race of superbeings who arrogantly challenged the gods. And lost. The monstrous expedition was an indulgent stickybeak into a tomb. The ghostly hands of third class passengers forever trapped in the Titanic’s bowels reached out to the first class tourists from the future, come to gawp at their loss, and pulled them in close.

The submersible parable feels entwined with the decline of America. It’s the end of old certainties. The punishing of vanities. The curtain is ripped aside and all that’s left is wreckage, and the hubris of deluded old men.
It feels extraordinary that in our lifetime we’re witnessing the fall of the greatest civilisation on earth – and we all have a ringside seat.