At first glance, it may seem like right-wing populism is gaining momentum around the world. But that impression might be misleading. Even in the liberal-capitalist United States, the country’s slide into autocracy—where plutocratic oligarchs are paraded like disposable cups—is being met with growing unease. The Trump administration, which returned to power in 2025, may not actually signal the rise of neo-populism, but rather its exposure and slow decline.
We’re living in a time when sticky pessimism hangs over everything like a heavy mist. Many now believe the fall of populism and the far right is impossible—at least for the moment. But the situation isn’t nearly as hopeless as it appears. If we take a closer look at the dynamics and deeper historical patterns of the modern world, we can already detect some key paradigms of the 21st century that will become even clearer from 2025 onward.
One of them—and the one this episode focuses on—is something I’d call the spirit of “we”—a shift toward active, capable citizenry stepping in. Because, throughout all of history, it’s always been the people who have the final word. Without the consent of the governed, not even kings—and certainly not their gods—have any real power.
Some commentators—even in Europe—now say that democracy was just a brief footnote in history, lasting maybe a hundred years, while autocracy stretches back for millennia. But even the emperors of the past needed the backing of their people. Zhu Yuanzhang, who led the “Red Turban” rebellion against the Mongol Yuan dynasty and founded the Ming dynasty, was a poor farmer. When he declared himself emperor, he took the name Hongwu.
Today, the will of the people is expressed through elections—a system that, for all its flaws, is practiced globally. And if you try to restrict the public’s right to choose its leaders in the name of “more efficient” autocracy, you may end up triggering exactly the kind of upheaval that brings that system down. Because the people will always have the final say. Always.
In today’s world, the economy still sits at the center of daily life. But the problems of the aging neoliberal system are becoming increasingly tangled—and increasingly questioned. The modern economy is built on the principle of unlimited private property for individuals—one of the core building blocks of capitalism. This idea, which places the individual’s wealth at the center of their identity and worth, has been elevated to something almost sacred.
Capitalism, which emerged around 200 years ago, radically differs from previous systems by turning the “wealthy individual” from a royal exception into a middle-class ideal. This focus on the individual also brought with it important benefits—what we now call “individual freedoms.” Rights like “equality before the law” became real only with the advent of modern capitalism.
Right-wing autocracies may dismiss democracy as a “mere historical footnote” and dream of returning to some idealized past—but one fact remains: the consent of the people. And today’s people are not the peasants of old. They are educated, economically active, and essential pillars of the system—savvy consumers of Apple, Tesla, and Microsoft.
Back in the Cold War era, the so-called Socialist Bloc was often seen as an alternative to liberal capitalism. But at its core, it carried the same capitalist DNA: same labor systems, same currencies, same commodities. What changed was the face of power: instead of wealthy individuals, the Socialist Bloc elevated the nomenklatura—a privileged elite at the top of the state apparatus.
This elite wasn’t necessarily rich, but they had control—and that control allowed them to manipulate resources to serve their own interests. What really set the socialist countries apart was their suppression of individual rights in the name of “society”—even sanctifying the state and the collective good. But after experiencing both socialism and neoliberalism, it’s now much clearer: individual and collective rights must exist in balance.
Wild capitalism, which assumes it can continue down an authoritarian path without democracy, has picked up some shiny new labels in recent years—like “anarcho-capitalism.” But after all the struggles and victories for democratic rights, the path forward now seems to be one of public good economics. Even if the far right doesn’t like it, we might as well call it “neo-communism.”
But why is the public good rising again?
In traditional Confucian societies in Asia, being “an individual” was once seen as inappropriate—even shameful. These societies envisioned a strict hierarchy where everyone knew their place, and no one was considered equal. In systems where democracy had no real space, the people’s happiness and welfare were still seen as paramount.
There’s a well-known Taoist saying in Asia: “The best government is the one you don’t notice.” China’s remarkable economic success over the past three decades didn’t come from being invisible—it came from massively improving the welfare of its people. In Confucian cultures, it’s not equality that matters, but contentment and discipline within the hierarchy.
Yet when China’s success is viewed only through its authoritarian lens, some draw the wrong conclusion: “Maybe we’ll be more successful if we become more authoritarian.” This is a dangerous illusion.
As countries like China and India—places where the “we” mindset runs deep—continue to rise, the question is: can this push the liberal capitalist system to transform into a public-good-driven economy? Without changing its DNA, built on the “wealthy individual,” that seems unlikely.
Even in Asia, restricting democracy in the name of the common good doesn’t necessarily mean the public interest is being served. Many authoritarian regimes are surrounded by plutocracies—tight inner circles that privatize public resources and treat society as a pool to exploit. They don’t even offer the people a flicker of hope to justify their authority.
This shows us something important: a future politics that truly defends the public good doesn’t need to be Eastern, Confucian, or based on traditional collectivism. On the contrary—whether East or West—any regime that hands national wealth to a privileged elite, no matter what it calls itself (“republican,” “socialist,” “anarcho-something”), may find itself challenged by new, populist, public movements starting in 2025.
These new “we” societies, while valuing individuality, may also start putting limits on extreme private wealth—nationalizing excesses not to punish, but to humanize.