The Hegemony Paradox - Part I

Few literary figures embody this paradox better than Shakespeare’s Macbeth. A once-loyal nobleman, Macbeth's ambition leads him to betray King Duncan, seize the throne, and systematically eliminate those closest to him, including his ally Banquo. Instead of securing power, his unchecked paranoia isolates him, driving away the very support system that once ensured his stability. His attempt to fortify his rule accelerates his downfall, proving that ambition, when wielded without restraint, can turn even the strongest foundation into ruins.

I don’t usually write about politics. It’s not an area that captures my interest the way psychology, philosophy, or literature does. But, now and then, a political event reveals something fundamental about human nature. The recent U.S. decision to impose tariffs on Canadian imports triggered such a moment. Canada has long been the United States’ closest ally, a relationship built on trust, economic cooperation, and shared values. Yet, in an attempt to assert economic dominance, the U.S. has taken a step that threatens to weaken this vital partnership. It made me think about the paradox of ambition: how the very drive that propels success often becomes the force that undoes it.

The Double-Edged Sword of Ambition

Ambition, in its purest form, is the force behind human progress. It fuels innovation, drives economies, and shapes national identities. But human behavior suggests that unchecked ambition often conceals a deeper psychological conflict. The more an individual or nation achieves, the more precarious that success begins to feel. Instead of producing a sense of security, accomplishments can generate an underlying fear of loss, of irrelevance, of decline (think the American Psycho movie). In response, ambition intensifies, not as a means of growth but as a defensive strategy, an attempt to ward off an existential threat that may not even exist.

This reaction is not always conscious. Success, especially when hard-earned, can create a fragile self-concept, one that depends on maintaining an image of dominance and control. When faced with the natural flux of power and status, the impulse is often to double down to build walls, to impose stricter measures, to assert strength even at the cost of stability. But the paradox is that these actions, meant to fortify one's position, often erode it instead.

To project economic strength and protect domestic industries, the U.S. has effectively undermined one of its most stable economic relationships. This move echoes a pattern often seen in individuals, those who, in their relentless quest for security, sabotage the very foundation of their success.

The Fear of Erosion

Why do successful entities, whether people or countries, engage in self-sabotage? The answer lies in an unconscious fear of erosion. The moment a person reaches the summit of their field, the fear of decline takes hold. They tighten their grip, double down on control, and inadvertently stifle their own progress. Nations behave similarly. The U.S., as a global leader, faces an ongoing fear of relative decline. This fear manifests in protective measures that, paradoxically, accelerate the very decline they seek to prevent.

The U.S. tariffs on Canada are not just about trade; they reflect a deeper psychological pattern, one that has played out time and again in human history. Empires have crumbled not solely due to external threats but from an inward contraction, an impulse to retreat from cooperation and diversity in the name of self-preservation. The U.S. tariffs on Canada are not just about trade; they reflect a deeper psychological pattern, one that has played out time and again in human history.

When Success Feeds Insecurity

At the individual level, success breeds a unique kind of anxiety. The more one achieves, the more fragile their position feels. Executives and entrepreneurs often push themselves harder, convinced that any moment of relaxation signals impending decline. This paradox stems from a psychological need for control, an illusion that more effort, more dominance, and more barriers will ensure permanence. Yet, as many have learned too late, this mindset fosters burnout, estrangement, and missed opportunities.

Nationally, the U.S. exhibits a similar impulse. By imposing blanket tariffs on Canada, it seeks to reinforce its economic standing, but in doing so, it risks alienating an ally that has historically reinforced its stability. The assumption underlying this move is that protectionism secures strength. However, just as an overworked executive isolates themselves from crucial relationships, a country closing itself off from allies erodes the very network that sustains its prosperity.

The Hidden Costs of Protection

The tariffs are framed as a strategy to bolster domestic industries, yet they ignore an essential fact: Economic strength is built on interconnectedness. Just as a successful individual thrives on collaboration and adaptability, a powerful nation depends on alliances. Cutting off access to a key trade partner to fortify one’s economy is akin to an executive firing their best advisors to maintain sole authority, an act that often precedes decline rather than preventing it.

From a broader perspective, self-sabotage of this nature is not driven by logic but by an unconscious need to assert control. This need stems from a fear that without aggressive action, decline is inevitable. But as history and individual experiences often show, true strength lies in the ability to remain agile and engaged with the broader world.

The Trap of Fear

The U.S. tariffs on Canada offer more than an economic case study; they serve as a cautionary tale for ambitious professionals. When fear of decline compels a shift toward rigid control, isolation, and short-term strategies, the instinct is to tighten one’s grip to maintain stability. Yet history suggests that resilience is often found in the ability to adapt, to recognize the strength in alliances, and to cultivate a foundation that endures not through rigidity, but through its capacity to evolve with change.

For individuals, this means recognizing when ambition has crossed the line into self-sabotage. It means asking whether control is truly securing success or merely an illusion of it. For nations, it means understanding that true economic resilience comes not from shutting doors but from strengthening alliances.

The challenge for both individuals and nations is the same: how to wield ambition without letting it consume the very success it once fueled. The answer lies in a fundamental shift from an obsession with security to a commitment to adaptability. Whether in the boardroom or on the global stage, those who master this balance will not only survive but thrive.

In the end, Macbeth did not lose his throne to a foreign army alone; he lost it through his own choices, through the fear-driven betrayal of those who once stood beside him. The U.S. is now at a similar crossroads. Will it learn from history, or, like Macbeth, will it succumb to the very ambition that once made it great?