The Influence of U.S. Motorcycle Media on the Industry

Rome's expansion generated an empire that spanned from Scotland to the Euphrates, but it also resulted in the rise of other powers on its perimeter, including Persia, the Visigoths, and the Vandals.This is the major thesis of Why Empires Fall: Rome, America, and the Future of the West, a new book by King's College historian Peter Heather and Cambridge political economist John Rapley. They believe that Edward Gibbon's six-volume 1776 classic The Decline and decline of the Roman Empire has had a significant impact on how we view Rome's decline. Gibbon argued that Rome's demise was caused by its incapacity or unwillingness to control its boundaries, which was exacerbated by the fast spread of Christianity, a position common with neoliberalsThe first section of Why Empires Fall explains how archaeological discoveries over the last few decades have altered our understanding of what caused Rome's final downfall. Rome's fall was not a protracted, gradual decline, as Gibbon stated. Rome's economy peaked around 400 AD and then plummeted over the next few decades, culminating in 476 AD when Rome's final emperor, Romulus Augustulus, handed over power to Odoacer, king of the Goths. Rome's voracious need for additional land and money drove her to overreach, straining its internal political system and strengthening its neighbors. In short, the Roman Empire's prosperity produced the seeds of its downfall. The writers argue that the West is facing the same realities and consequences as previous underdeveloped countries' growing affluence.

Rome's demise echoes the modern. 

West's thirst for larger profits beyond its borders by exploiting the world's resources over the last two centuries. They argue that the West must realize that its influence is declining. It can either retrench and close its borders or accept the realities of a new world order.Part two discusses the necessary adjustments to prevent Rome's fate. The West can no longer hope to address its internal political and economic issues by importing cheap labor and resources from emerging countries. To sustain its economy and standing, America requires measures that reduce expanding wealth gaps, raise taxes on the wealthy, increase support for social programs, a universal basic income, affordable housing, higher minimum wages, and improved job security. Regarding immigration, the writers want the West to face the reality of an aging population. The West and America must likewise recognize and appreciate the countries they formerly exploited as equals.However, what seemed to be China's unstoppable development now appears dismal. As international direct investment declines, China faces a pile of debt accumulated via huge state infrastructure spending and private house building. Even China's huge trillion-dollar Belt and Road Initiative is in deep trouble. One could easily argue that China is more likely to collapse, given President Xi's catastrophic management of the COVID issue, high youth unemployment, and a collapsed real estate market that has drained countless families' money. And China's support for Russia's war in Ukraine jeopardizes its commercial relations with the West.

China has a border with fourteen countries.

including those that share the South China Sea, and most are wary of China's newfound power and aspirations. In comparison, the Western and United States economy appear to be fairly steady. China has few allies other than a collection of failed governments, including Venezuela, North Korea, Iran, possibly South Africa, and now a collapsing Russia. It's unlikely that "peripheral" states are ready to bring down the West.The fundamental strength of Why Empires Fall is that we now have a better understanding of Rome's fall and the development of external influences that contributed to its demise. But going from that insight to advocating for a variety of progressive policies to save the West, primarily directed at the United States, is straining the fall of Rome analogy. In Margaret MacMillan's book The Uses and Abuses of History, American historian John Lewis Gaddis warned that if we merely use history as a rearview mirror, we risk ending up in a ditch. The saintly editors at The Hub have consented to use one of my two monthly articles for the site as a monthly transatlantic journal. For readers unfamiliar with the format, which is more typical in British journalism, the diary is a collection of brief articles, some on a common theme, others not. In my case, they have one thing in common: they are either too insignificant to warrant a whole piece, or I can't be bothered to come up with anything other than a knee-jerk reaction or a flip comment. This is September.

The harvest is passed, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.

It's no surprise that Keats' "To Autumn" is the most popular poetic reference for the arrival of fall. That opening phrase about the "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" is cosier than a plaid wool blanket, but for me, literary ideas of autumn bring to mind Shallow's orchard, as described by Kenneth Tynan in his criticism of the Old Vic's 1945 production of Henry IV, Part II.Tynan is one of those strange characters who must exist in every era: the literary genius who plateaued. At the age of 23, Tynan released He That Plays the King, the best compilation of twentieth-century theater criticism, much of which he composed in his late teens. Here's how he characterized the scene with Falstaff (Ralph Richardson), Shallow (Laurence Olivier), and Silence (Miles Malleson).[I]f I had only half an hour more to spend in theaters and could chose everything I wanted; no question, I'd go with these. Richardson's performance, along with that of Miles Malleson as Silence, beak-nosed, pop-eyed, many chinned and murmuring, and Olivier as Shallow, cast a golden autumnal veil across the stage, making the idle chatter of the lines shine with the same kind of delight as Gray's Elegy. There was a pungent aroma of plucked crabapples and pork in the larder: one got the sensation of life going on in the background, of rustling twigs underfoot and the wide accusing eyes of cows peering through the twilight. Shakespeare never topped these sequences in the sense of absolute naturalism. The introductory discussion between the two didderers, which bounces between the price of animals at market and the philosophical actuality of death, is worked out with fugal delicacy.When I originally read that paragraph, I felt bad about missing the performance, but now I don't. I don't see how the scene could have outdone the 18-year-old Tynan's description, and his generous record suffices for me. The complete review is well worth reading, and I recommend it to anyone who wishes to experience the euphoria of superb literature. Tynan is buried at Holywell Cemetery, an overgrown part of Oxford, and I visit his tomb every few months, along with those of two other prominent writers, Walter Pater and Kenneth Grahame. I don't suppose anyone else does, judging by the tangled ivy.