Is This the End of Democracy?

The warning lights are flashing. Across the globe, democratic institutions are showing cracks in their foundations—even in nations where democracy once seemed unshakable. That gnawing sense you've had that something fundamental is shifting in our political landscape? You're not alone. Citizens everywhere are questioning whether democracy as we know it can withstand the mounting pressures of polarization, inequality, and executive overreach.

But is democracy truly in danger, or are we witnessing the natural growing pains of a resilient system adapting to modern challenges? This question demands more than partisan talking points or alarmist headlines—it requires a clear-eyed examination of historical patterns, expert insights, and measurable warning signs.

In this comprehensive analysis, we'll explore the four pillars necessary for democracy to function properly, examine how democracies throughout history have failed, and identify the five major warning signs of democratic decline that experts are tracking today. Most importantly, we'll address what everyday citizens can do to strengthen democratic institutions before it's too late.

Join us as we consult leading political scientists, legal scholars, and former government officials who have spent decades studying democratic systems—and their collapse. Their insights might surprise you, challenge your assumptions, and ultimately empower you to become a more informed participant in democracy's future.

What is Democracy?

To understand what democracy is, let’s hear from Robert Lieberman, Professor of Political Science at Johns Hopkins University:

Robert Lieberman:‍

“What we mean by democracy is a system of representative government organized around competitive elections that give citizens the opportunity to hold officeholders—those in power—accountable.

As we describe it in the book, democracy rests on four pillars—four elements that must be in place for it to function robustly:

• Free and fair elections
• The rule of law
• The idea of a legitimate opposition
• The integrity of rights

By free and fair elections, we mean elections in which voting rights are widespread, votes are counted equally, access to the ballot is broad, and there is no fraud—or at least, where we can be confident that the reported results accurately reflect how people voted.

The rule of law is the idea that being in power doesn’t grant you special privileges. The law applies equally to everyone, and it should be impossible—or at least very difficult—for those in power to tilt the playing field in their favor or to evade legal accountability.

The idea of a legitimate opposition is an interesting one—something we found to be a real challenge throughout much of American history. It means that if you and I disagree about something, we may be opponents—antagonists in an electoral setting—but we are not enemies. We are all part of a common society with a shared purpose. Even if we differ on how to achieve that purpose, we can compete democratically without seeing each other as adversaries beyond reconciliation.

Finally, the integrity of rights refers to the protection of the rights essential for democratic politics to function—civil rights, civil liberties, and voting rights. These must be widespread and well protected for democracy to be truly robust."

Listen to the full episode on Democracy Works: When four threats to democracy collide

Is Democracy Inevitable?

How much do we take for granted that we live in a democracy? Legal scholar Jedediah Purdy and author Anne Applebaum argue that democracy is not inevitable—and that the belief it is has contributed to the crisis we face today.

Jedediah Pury:‍

“In the early 21st century, democracy seemed inevitable, but also largely superfluous. It was thought that history only had one direction. Everyone said they didn’t believe in the end of history—but, in a way, everyone kind of did. The assumption was that it would all end up in the same place: a basically capitalist, individualist, loosely egalitarian, electoral—but not very high-stakes—society of managed prosperity. And that would be good.

I think we’re now in a time when democracy feels essential, but also fraught, fragile, and dangerous. Dangerous because we’ve seen the kinds of threats and hostility it can conjure up internally. Fragile because we’ve seen how easily aspects of it can be broken.

What’s easy to miss in this hyper-politicized moment—where everything signals partisanship, from how you talk about gender, to whether you wear a medical mask, to where you live or what you drive—is that even as we ask more of politics and pay more attention to it, we’re also haunted by a growing doubt: a doubt that democracy will actually deliver. A doubt that it can choose futures and establish a common world among equals.”

Listen to the full episode on Democracy in Danger: The Good Gamble with Jedediah Purdy

Anne Applebaum: ‍

“I think one of the great mistakes we made over the last several decades was precisely believing in the inevitability of democracy. We thought it was like running water—that you didn’t have to do very much. That you could just let professional politicians do their jobs, while you went on making money or painting pictures or whatever else you wanted to do. And just like water from a tap, democracy would always be there.

This was a huge mistake. In some ways, it was an understandable one, because it reflected the experience of anyone alive at the time—around 1989 or 1990. If you were living in the United States, or even in Europe, you had just experienced several decades of democratic success—not just American success, but success among the wider camp of American-aligned democracies.

You’d seen wave after wave of countries undergoing democratic revolutions: in Southern Europe, then Eastern Europe, East Asia, South America, Africa. One region after another seemed to follow the same path. So it felt natural, in 1990, to assume this was just the way things were—and the way they would always be.

But that’s not how the Founding Fathers of the United States thought. And it’s not how anyone who has studied democracy seriously has ever thought. If you go back and look at what the men who wrote the Constitution in 1789 were discussing, it’s truly fascinating. They were intensely focused—fixated, really—on the constitutions of ancient Greece and Rome. Those were the democracies they used as models.

In particular, they were concerned with the era of the Roman Republic—not the Empire, but the Republic and its fall. They understood that democracy is cyclical. That politics is cyclical. That history is cyclical. Nothing is inevitable, and there are no guaranteed upward trajectories.

One of the reasons they designed our now somewhat rickety Constitution the way they did was to ensure a balance of power. They didn’t want the executive branch to be either too strong or too weak. What preoccupied them was how democracy had collapsed in ancient Rome—how the people had become entranced by Caesar, the demagogue—and how the Roman Republic lost its democratic essence. Their understanding was clear: democracy can fail. They had no illusions about that.”

Listen to the full episode on Penn State Talks: Anne Applebaum: Twilight of Democracy

How Do Democracies Fail?

How does a thriving democracy slide toward collapse? Andrew Sullivan—contributing editor at New York Magazine and former editor of The New Republic—walks us through how democracies can become fertile soil for the rise of tyranny.

Andrew Sullivan:‍

“Democracy hasn’t always been considered a good word. Today, we almost think of it as banal—something obviously good and important, a vital value. But one of the great benefits of a liberal education is that you get to read people from other eras and ages.

What struck me, especially when reading Plato’s Republic and Aristotle’s Politics, was that they didn’t like democracy very much.

They understood democracy as something deeply unstable. The one thing they all agreed on—and the one thing they shared with the Founders who studied them—was that democracies are fragile. They don’t last very long, and historically, they haven’t lasted very long. Liberal democracy—our particular version—has only existed for a tiny sliver of history. Maybe 200 years, if you’re being generous. The vast majority of human history and culture hasn’t been democratic at all.

So why did Plato believe democracies are unstable?

Well, it’s actually quite simple. Democracies are defined by a radical belief in equality—equality of all kinds. Equality in power. Equality in ideas. Equality in ways of life.

Plato called democracy a multi-colored cloak—full of many hues. He also said that if you had to choose among the different types of regimes—monarchy, aristocracy, oligarchy, or democracy—you’d always choose democracy, because it’s lovely to live in one. No one really bosses you around. Different ideas are always circulating. Equality permeates the entire culture.

It’s a culture where teachers defer to students, where there’s no real distinction between men and women—they’re seen as interchangeable.

That’s what equality really means in this context. It’s a society where government offices are filled entirely by lottery—a truly random sampling of the democratic population. And democracy, Plato said, is pleasant. But it also comes with many appetites.”

When Democracy Becomes Tyranny  

Andrew Sullivan:‍

“Democracy is really defined by letting our desires overtake our reason. Democracies tend to be full of wealth, greed, lust, food—all the things we use to make ourselves feel better, even though we know, deep down, that maybe it’s not so great.

And out of this extraordinary diversity of views, something starts to happen. Small inequalities begin to emerge, and people push back. Ways of life, in some cases, become incompatible with others. Views aren’t just varied—they’re contradictory.

At the same time, the wealthy essentially accept that they can’t rule anymore. So they focus on making money. They prioritize their private wealth and interests over any real concern for the public good. The public good only matters to the extent that it helps them maintain their wealth. And of course, in a democracy, those with more money and status come under intense criticism from below.

This creates a society that’s varied, diverse, equal, and thriving—but also chaotic. There are few restraints on appetite, widespread resentment toward those who are doing better, and an almost pathological commitment to the idea that everyone is fundamentally equal in every way.

According to Plato, when this happens—when a republic is filled with so many competing, incompatible views, and no one has power over anyone else—gridlock sets in. These values clash. How do you resolve them? Resentment grows, especially toward the wealthy, who seem to stand above the egalitarian ideals.

At that moment, Plato says, someone usually emerges. This person is often from the elite class and shares the democratic temperament: full of desire, lacking self-control, obsessed with food and sex. But he sees his opportunity.

He becomes a traitor to his own class, accusing his fellow elites of corruption, of hoarding power, of betraying democracy’s core values. And if he finds—and these are Plato’s words—a particularly obedient mob in the broader democracy, he makes his appeal.

He says to the people, ‘This chaos you’re living in—this constant deadlock of ideas and values—we can’t go on like this. Nothing gets done. Nothing gets decided.’

He argues that the wealthy and the elites are the ones preventing progress. They must be brought down. And he, as a member of the elite, knows how to do it. He understands the system. All he needs is your mass support to dismantle it.

Sound familiar?

According to Plato, this is what always happens in a democracy. In the end, it cannot govern itself, so it gives itself over to a tyrant. That’s the only way true tyranny emerges—through democracy.

When Plato and Aristotle write about regime change—how kings can become tyrants, how aristocracies can devolve into oligarchies—they also note that popular, powerful tyranny arises only from democracies.

The Founders understood this well. In fact, they were obsessed with it. They asked: How do we create a democracy that actually works? One that isn’t short-lived? One that doesn’t collapse under its own divisions?

Their answer was to create a mixed regime—with elements of democracy, aristocracy, and even monarchy. Each part would balance the others. The goal was greater stability.

At its core, it would still reflect the democratic will. But that will would be tempered—by elites, by structures, by institutions, by rules. These mechanisms were designed to slow democracy down, to create space for deliberation and balance.

And by historical standards, they were remarkably successful. This is the longest-running democratic experiment—explicitly designed as such—since the collapse of the Roman Republic.”

Listen to the full episode on Penn State Talks: From Democracy to Tyranny 

Who Is Running Our Country?

Andrew Sullivan spoke about democracies being tempered by elites—those entrusted to run the country on behalf of its people. However, some believe those elites may no longer be up to the task. Rory Stewart, a former British Member of Parliament with over a decade of experience, thinks this may be the case:

Rory Stewart:‍

“The idea is that a particular group—a pretty small group of people—might be called senators, congresspeople, cabinet ministers—are somehow supposed to govern these incredibly complex societies. They’re expected to understand Iraq and Afghanistan, the intricacies of health policy, artificial intelligence, and climate change.

But the closer you get to who those people actually are, how they spend their days, and what they’re worrying about, the less plausible it seems that this system will produce thoughtful, long-term policy.

I think we live in a very dangerous age. Donald Trump, in my view, is a symptom—not the root cause.

We’re living in a time where all the forces I’ve mentioned—now compounded by the rise of AI—are creating extremely fertile ground for populism. It’s no accident that Marine Le Pen is now in a leading position to become president of France, or that the AfD is rising in Germany, or that we’re seeing both left- and right-wing populism spreading throughout Latin America.

The fundamental narrative at the heart of this is the claim that one can ‘speak for the people’—not necessarily the majority, but a kind of imagined “real” people set in opposition to the elite. It’s this idea that allows politicians to polarize, to stir division, and to generate extreme nonsense. Sometimes it’s outright lies. Sometimes it’s half-truths. Sometimes it’s just gross simplifications.

These forces remain present, dangerous threats to our political systems. That’s part of what How Not to Be a Politician is about. The old-fashioned politicians are extremely poorly equipped to respond. Our profession has become saturated with media pressure, cynicism, tribalism, and short-term thinking. It has become incredibly difficult to offer a dignified, moral response to populism.

Even under Joe Biden, America is entering a new phase of isolationism. It’s no coincidence that there have been seven coups in Sub-Saharan Africa during his presidency. Democracy is in retreat. This isn’t like the 1990s or early 2000s, when the number of democracies worldwide was on the rise. Today, they are diminishing.

President Biden rightly gets credit for standing up to Russia in Ukraine. But this “foreign policy for the middle class,” as it's often branded, includes many elements we would have traditionally called isolationist. The U.S. is no longer acting as a confident global player.

And despite all the horrors of Iraq and Afghanistan, there was a time when America, more confident in its role, helped make the world a slightly better place—in Bosnia, in Kosovo, in Sierra Leone, in Liberia. It’s no longer doing that.”

Listen to the full episode on Let’s Find Common Ground: Populism, Polarization, and Threats to Western Democracy

What Are the Signs of Democratic Decline?

What are the telltale signs that a democracy is in trouble? First, we’ll hear from political scientist Robert Lieberman, who outlines four historical warning signs in his book Four Threats: The Recurring Crises of American Democracy. Then, Barbara F. Walter, also a political scientist, explains what a modern-day civil war in the U.S. could look like.

Lieberman and Walter outline five major signs of democratic decline:

• Political polarization
• Racial inequality
• Economic inequality
  Executive aggrandizement
• Civil war in the form of insurgency
  

Polarization

Robert Lieberman:‍

“Polarization takes a number of forms. It’s not just about wide disagreement over policy or what the government should do—though that’s certainly part of it. It’s also a strategic phenomenon, especially when elections are closely contested. When there’s a real sense that either side could win a fair election, the temptation to close ranks becomes powerful. Each side starts to view politics as a team sport, where the priority shifts to winning—beating the other team—above all else.

That’s something we’ve seen repeatedly throughout American history. Take the 1790s, for example. The Founding Fathers—the framers of the Constitution—didn’t even believe in political parties. But once in government, they quickly developed very different ideas about policy, the direction of the country, and what the government should look like. And so, they began forming political teams.

These teams engaged in what was essentially partisan warfare, and it nearly brought the country down. We saw similar patterns again in the 1850s, in the 1890s, and we’re seeing them again today.

So, polarization can take the form of strategic partisanship. But there’s another layer to it as well—one that’s increasingly visible among ordinary citizens. Today, we sort ourselves by political affiliation: who we live near, who we work with, who we go to school with. More and more, we’re organizing our lives along political lines.

People are also increasingly driven by what political scientists call negative partisanship—the idea that voters are motivated as much, or even more, by their dislike of the opposing side as by their loyalty to their own.”

Racial Inequality

Robert Lieberman:

“Polarization doesn’t necessarily entail racial conflict, but there have been moments in history when we’ve seen what’s called conflict over membership in the community—disagreements about which groups are considered full members of society, entitled to full status and rights, and which groups are kept on the margins.

In the United States, this often expresses itself through conflicts over race or immigration. When political and partisan polarization coincide with conflict over race—as they did in the 1850s, the 1890s, and again today—that’s a particularly explosive combination.

So, racial conflict isn’t inherent to polarization itself. It’s the convergence of the two that becomes dangerous.”

Executive Aggrandizement

Robert Lieberman:

“This is very much a story of the 20th century, particularly the growth of the presidency and the expansion of presidential power. It begins before Franklin Roosevelt, but you’re right. We start the story with Roosevelt, who took power at a moment of crisis.

It was a deep, deep crisis for democracy. Democracies were crumbling in Europe, and it was the depths of the Great Depression in March of 1933. People were looking to him to be the savior of liberal democracy in the United States and in the West. Roosevelt began his presidency with an extraordinary act of presidential power.

This act became the template for later presidents, as the national security state developed throughout the mid-to-late 20th century. As intelligence services expanded, they provided presidents with an extraordinary toolkit, one that could be wielded for political purposes. This is exactly what Richard Nixon did during the Watergate scandal and the associated events in the 1970s.

Executive aggrandizement didn’t begin with Franklin Roosevelt, but he is certainly a key part of the story.”

Listen to the full episode on Democracy Works: When four threats to democracy collide

Civil war in the form of Insurgency

Barbra Walter:

“I talked about how the model that our government uses has two factors predictive of civil wars.

The first is inocracy. The second is whether citizens in a country have organized themselves into political parties based on identity rather than ideology. So, rather than joining a political party because you're a conservative or a liberal, a communist or a capitalist, you're joining a political party because you're Black or White, Muslim or Christian, Serb or Croat.

If a country exhibits both of these features—if its government is an inocracy and it has very strong, racially, ethnically, or religiously based parties—the task force considers it at high risk of civil war or ethnic conflict and places it on a watch list.

Another important point is that we actually know who tends to start civil wars, and it’s not the groups most people think. It’s not the poorest or the weakest groups. In fact, it’s the groups that were once politically dominant but are now in decline.

Now, this provides some background for answering your question, which is about the demographic transition the United States is facing. The group that had been politically dominant in this country and is now in decline is predominantly white, male, and Christian.

From the nation’s inception, this demographic has been in power, and while their status was extremely high and privileged compared to others, they now perceive themselves as being in decline.

If you think back to January 6 and recall the videos from that day, you’ll remember the people who stormed the U.S. Capitol. They walked down the mall, not trying to hide. They weren’t wearing masks; they were filming themselves with their phones. They believed they were patriots, doing the right thing, and felt it was their duty to take back their country.

This is the perfect example of the kinds of groups that feel justified in turning to violence when they perceive themselves as losing power.”

Listen to the full episode on Democracy Works: Between democracy and autocracy

What Can We Do? 

Let’s hear one last time from Anne Applebaum and Robert Lieberman, who offer some hope about what we can do to protect democracy from peril.

Anne Applebaum:

“I wanted to leave you with the reflection that history is always radically open, and that nothing is inevitable. Decline is not inevitable. There is no reason why the United States, Western Europe, or Eastern Europe must decline. There is no reason why our civilization has to end. But there’s also no reason why it will definitely succeed. There’s nothing magical about our form of democracy or our civilization; it too can come to an end.

The difference between success and failure, of course, lies in a million different decisions made by people like you, the reader, who are active citizens, participating in democracy—whether it’s in local, regional, or state democracy, or by joining political or even non-political institutions that connect you with your fellow citizens.

This is a really important civic act. We should think of it as something we all need to participate in. We will have to make an effort if we want to succeed in the future, and if we want to prevent the disappointment and radicalization of some of our fellow citizens from dominating our political discourse and changing the nature of our country.”

Listen to the full episode on Penn State Talks: Anne Applebaum: Twilight of Democracy

Robert Lieberman:

“I think what people can focus on and think about are these pillars: free and fair elections, the rule of law, the legitimacy of the opposition, and the integrity of rights. People should think about how candidates, policy proposals, or parties are addressing these issues. Consider whether a particular move, candidate, or policy will advance or hinder these principles. I believe this is the most productive way for people to engage with this problem.”

Listen to the full episode on Democracy Works: When four threats to democracy collide

The Future of Democracy Rests in Our Hands

As we've explored throughout this examination of democracy's current state, the answer to our central question—"Is democracy in peril?"—appears to be a qualified yes. The warning signs identified by experts like Robert Lieberman and Barbara Walter are clearly visible: increasing polarization, persistent racial and economic inequalities, executive overreach, and the potential for civil conflict in the form of insurgency. The historical patterns outlined by scholars from Plato to Anne Applebaum suggest we are indeed at a critical juncture.

Yet history also teaches us that democratic decline is not inevitable. As Applebaum reminds us, "History is always radically open, and nothing is inevitable." The future of our democratic institutions depends on the collective decisions and actions of ordinary citizens—people like you who are seeking to understand the challenges we face.

Democracy requires constant maintenance. It thrives when its four pillars—free and fair elections, the rule of law, recognition of legitimate opposition, and the integrity of rights—are actively protected and reinforced. This protection doesn't come primarily from elected officials or political elites, but from engaged citizens who understand democracy's fragility and value its preservation above partisan victories.

The most powerful insight from our exploration may be this: democratic systems don't typically collapse suddenly through violent revolution; they erode gradually through the accumulation of seemingly small compromises, the normalization of extreme behavior, and the surrender of civic responsibility by ordinary people who believe democracy will sustain itself without their active participation.

What can you do? Stay informed about threats to democratic norms. Support institutions that protect free and fair elections. Engage with fellow citizens across political divides. Evaluate candidates and policies based on their commitment to democratic principles rather than partisan loyalty. Remember that in a healthy democracy, political opponents are not enemies but fellow citizens with different views.

The path forward isn't easy or straightforward, but it begins with recognition that democracy's survival depends on more than formal structures and written constitutions—it requires a citizenry committed to democratic values and willing to defend them, even when it's difficult. As we navigate these challenging times, let us be guided by the understanding that democracy is not merely a system of government but a continuous project that each generation must renew and strengthen.

The question isn't just whether democracy is in peril—it's whether we have the wisdom and will to preserve it. The answer to that question lies not with experts or elites, but with each of us.