Will we be able to see the situation as a whole? What is happening now is not just a series of crises, but a strange consolidation of an economy burdened by debt, notes philosopher Fabio Vigi.
In this system, crisis is no longer a failure of policy, but becomes its main working mechanism. This is not just a metaphor: to maintain a distorted socio-economic order, constant creation of instability is necessary.
Monetary policy, which has traditionally been viewed as a set of measures taken by central banks to manage the economy through regulation of the money supply and interest rates, has changed its nature. In the context of collapsing capitalism, it has ceased to be a "boring" tool focused on controlling inflation and maintaining financial stability. Now it is a key principle of power that governs international relations, domestic politics, and social processes. The market, the state, and society no longer strive for equilibrium; they are managed through constant disruption of that equilibrium. The reason is that equilibrium leads to insolvency.
This practice is not new. The Weimar Republic used currency devaluation to cover debts after World War I, and the Bretton Woods system arose from the understanding that uncontrolled currency competition could undermine political stability. The Plaza Agreement of 1985 legalized dollar devaluation to restore economic equilibrium in the U.S. Each of these cases underscores that currency mechanisms must take into account political and financial contradictions. However, today we do not observe the emergence of new solutions; instead, we are surrounded by chaos and improvisation, which have become the main methods of managing deteriorating socio-economic conditions.
The West, the self-proclaimed bastion of free market capitalism, boils down to two main categories: debt burden and dependence on asset prices. In other words, it is unpaid debts and a financial system prone to hyperinflation, which can only be sustained through manipulation. The scale of potential insolvency has reached levels that cannot be maintained under conditions that guarantee stability. Growth and productivity gains are a thing of the past, and political systems are intentionally fragmented, as any attempts at stabilization require artificially provoking defaults, restructuring, and political imagination. At the same time, constant crises allow for the postponement of problem-solving in an ideal technocratic style.
Political leadership has become administration rather than decision-making. The stage is occupied not by decision-makers, but by puppets of the financial mechanism. Politicians act according to protocol, following the directives of markets and balances rather than making independent decisions. This is a modern form of political automation, where the system defines what it means to "think."
Within this system, the most prominent and authoritarian figures, such as Trump, are not deviations from the norm, but catalysts of chaos. They act not as independent leaders, but as agents justifying extraordinary measures and interventions. Their role is systemic and linked to the financial order, which relies on destabilization for its existence.
At this moment, it is essential to understand that "crises" create opportunities for liquidity infusions, suspension of regulation, and the creation of mechanisms that evade solutions to serious problems. An example is the response to recent changes in the capitalization of major companies in AI, such as Microsoft and Nvidia. Their valuation has become an indicator not only for technology indices but also for assessing broader economic trends. The situation of market stress was quickly replaced by other events that distracted public attention from systemic degradation. Thus, volatility becomes structural, hidden under convincing narratives of instability. While we are distracted, central banks quietly expand their balances and absorb government debt, reinforcing a regime in which fiat currencies lose their role and drift toward economic emptiness.
The United States is at the center of this system of deliberate information concealment. The dollar continues to be the world's reserve currency, but its role is rapidly changing. We are witnessing the devaluation of the dollar — unofficial and unrecognized, but perceived as a success. When Trump states that the dollar "feels great," it reflects reality: a weaker dollar reduces the burden of American debt, exports inflation, and maintains geopolitical influence without the political costs associated with acknowledging devaluation. Inflation is presented as a "temporary" problem caused by supply chains or climate phenomena. Therefore, an 11% annual decline in the dollar is seen as a normal market phenomenon, while sharp fluctuations in gold and silver prices are perceived as technical anomalies rather than signals of systemic stress.
In this context, the fall of the dollar is not an accident, but a necessary "political error." Open acknowledgment of this fact would undermine trust in the currency with catastrophic consequences. Therefore, inflation is not only manipulated but also attributed to wars, viruses, and other factors. The devaluation of the dollar also has serious financial consequences: it redirects capital to competing currencies and assets, intensifies inflationary pressure, and creates the risk of political backlash from other powers. This is dangerous from a geopolitical perspective, as trust in the dollar is the foundation of global trade and debt obligations.
Thus, this logic encompasses not only the financial sphere. Geopolitical conflicts, fragmentation of trade, and internal violence become monetary alibis — justifications for the introduction of emergency measures and deviation from structural degradation. Emergencies have become a constant backdrop, and their acknowledgment would require accountability. Central banks anticipate unrest that will justify the next step in development: freezing markets or political collapse will serve as a pretext for expanding balances and coordinating currency operations. This is the world we are in.
Fiscal dysfunction in the U.S. has long become structural. The threat of government shutdown has ceased to be an anomaly and has become part of the system — a symptom of the political economy that governs the country through temporary measures. Since the 1990s, Congress has shifted from annual appropriations to a constant dependence on temporary resolutions. Most government shutdowns since 1976 have occurred in the last three decades, including a record 43-day shutdown from October 1 to November 12, 2025, when nearly a million federal employees were forced to work without pay.
This cycle shows no signs of weakening. In early 2026, lawmakers faced a new funding deadline amid partisan standoffs and negative public reactions to law enforcement actions. A four-day government shutdown became an example of the new norm: instability and dependence on short-term conflicts that serve as justifications for emergency powers.
Internal conflicts exacerbate an already complicated economic situation. Incidents related to ICE signal a rupture of the social contract, which increasingly relies on force and spectacle to maintain power. Markets either ignore or exploit these signals for their own benefit. Political legitimacy and financial authority are simultaneously eroded, though unevenly.
The ultimate goal here is not hyperinflation, but a slow devaluation of fiat money, hidden behind statistical manipulations. Purchasing power declines while nominal stability is maintained. Society adapts to worsening conditions; expectations fall. Emergency capitalism does not collapse suddenly — it gradually loses legitimacy, replacing active management with passive crisis management. By the time devaluation becomes evident, it will be irreversible, leaving no chance for redistribution.
Over all this hovers the narrative of AI: the last big growth story supporting market valuations. Even insiders acknowledge negative trends associated with large bubbles based on borrowed funds. This is not a technological revolution — it is yet another financial spectacle, where cheap money is disguised as innovation. When high-ranking officials warn of an inevitable correction, markets ignore it, displaying functional delusion. AI has become a powerful sponge for liquidity, absorbing excess capital in the absence of economic dynamism. But when funding runs out, this sponge may contract sharply, causing mass devaluation.
In aggregate, these events create an extremely fragile architecture: central banks replace solvency with liquidity, governments exchange rhetoric for legitimacy, and markets exchange leverage for growth. Currencies, bond yields, and social unrest sound like the same warning signal before a crisis. The pound, euro, yen, yuan, and dollar participate in a slow revaluation of trust. The real event will not be any single crisis, but the collapse of the coherence that supports this system. When trust finally collapses, do not expect a calm rollback: it will crash onto the markets and society that mistook managed appearances for resilience. At that moment, familiar players will immediately leave the sinking ship. This is the choice we face — if only we could see the forest for the trees.
