The period following the Cold War was what foreign policy experts now call, somewhat wistfully, the “unipolar moment.” The term was coined by the journalist Charles Krauthammer to describe an era in which the world was led by a single superpower: the United States.
With power, as Spider-Man once said, came responsibility, but there was a particular challenge: overconfidence. Influential thinkers like Robert Kagan and Bill Kristol successfully argued for the principle of primacy (often called neoconservative foreign policy). Their reasoning was that the United States should assert its dominance proactively, even if it meant intervening “when we cannot demonstrate that a vital U.S. interest is at stake.”
Fast forward to 2024, and we are all too familiar with the problems of being the “world’s police.” A man even ran for president in 2016 railing against bigots—and won. Yet, while most academics recognize that an era has ended, vestiges of bigotry persist. Perhaps more than a vestige, in fact.
One place where this phenomenon persists is in our obsession with the concept of hegemony, sometimes expressed by arrogant bigots who wear the garb of “America First.” Specifically, talk of being—and acting like—king of the world (a noble goal) is often linked to preserving peace and promoting prosperity (which are nonnegotiable).
In Congress and at think tanks, foreign policy conversations tend to focus on sending signals and projecting power. Questions about concrete interests and our ability (or lack thereof) to influence certain matters, as well as those about setting priorities in a changing world order, are ignored.
In a recent open letter to the next US president, Singaporean academic Danny Quah highlights the issue facing the United States if it is unwilling to think beyond hegemony. In a very practical way, Quah tells the next commander-in-chief that he needs to start worrying less about ruling the world and more about taking care of the American people.
When I first read the provocative article, I was filled with a sense of patriotism. When the conservative organization America 2100 posted a nostalgic video in response to the letter, explaining that “America is not really a second-rate country,” I chanted, “USA! USA! USA!” As when a Brit says, “At least we don’t have school shootings,” it’s reasonable to assume that Toby Keith starts playing in your head when non-Americans question our greatness.
Yet American policymakers should not ignore Quah’s message and the sentiments it conveys—which are similar to those expressed by the likes of Emmanuel Macron in France and Lula da Silva in Brazil. First, because even while foreign voices may express criticism, their words highlight a domestic friction, where hegemonic considerations effectively shape American policy as a whole. For example, the desire to stay first and to prioritize the concrete interests of the American people are goals that sometimes coincide, and sometimes do not.
Second, and more important, the views of other countries’ leaders about American leadership, especially in the context of competition with China, deserve to be taken seriously. These views almost certainly reflect the views held by a growing number of Asians, Latin Americans, Africans, and even Europeans.
While it is easy to dismiss arguments like Quah’s and insist that those who advocate thinking outside the box are just Chinese assets, numerous surveys, diplomatic actions, and military exercises indicate that a growing number of countries, as Quah notes, “want America in their world—just as they want China in it.”
The reality is that commercial interests prevail in a more globalized world, and most countries now see that angering major global powers like China is bad policy more than ever. Simply put, the high-handed approach to world affairs is increasingly out of step with reality. The United States must come to terms with a happy world without American hegemony, and set its priorities accordingly.
The views expressed by scholars and foreign leaders about the great-power rivalry between the United States and China should be taken with interest, even if not all of them are equally helpful. I personally believe that many, including Quah, oversimplify the real challenges that China’s rise poses to the United States and downplay the positive qualities of what Quah describes as “anti-globalization protectionist forces.” But when the United States is described as “inefficient and insecure,” I listen—and Washington should do the same.
A world that views the United States as a troublemaker is a world that the United States cannot lead. The obsession with superiority has certainly been the main reason for the decline of American influence. And in the messy theater of national politics, we must not forget to deal with the world as it is. There is a stereotype that Americans do not know geography. Whether or not that is true, geography knows us.
Our era requires patience and consistency in foreign policy – maintaining strategic humility, focusing on trying to change what can be changed easily, and prioritizing the most realistic threats. The United States should show less interest in hegemony not because we do not want to lead, but because we are being arrogant and wasteful in our obsession with it. Ultimately, if we do not get rid of these remnants, if we do not take prioritization seriously, we will become less secure – and less “hegemonic.” We can no longer be the world’s policeman, but we can, if we listen, continue to lead. Adaptation is a virtue; changing nothing in a changing world is madness.
Juan B. Villasmil is an editorial fellow at the University Studies Institute at The Spectator World magazine.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author's own.