Trump: Not the Spark, but the Accelerant
THE FXBG ADVANCE 7/24/26 AFTERNOON READ
By Phil Huber, ADVANCE COLUMNIST
Donald Trump did not create most of America’s problems. He has become their accelerant. He has done this across several fronts at once—our democratic institutions, the capacity of government to do its job, the health of our economy, our willingness to invest in the future, and the strength of our alliances.
In a recent FXBG Advance column, Donnie Johnston asked a sobering question: Is America beginning the kind of decline that has overtaken other great powers throughout history? As our nation marks its 250th anniversary, many Americans sense that something important has changed. We argue more bitterly, trust one another less, struggle to solve obvious problems, and seem increasingly uncertain about our place in the world.
An accelerant does not start a fire. It makes an existing fire burn hotter, spread faster, and become harder to control.
America’s underlying weaknesses were visible long before Trump entered politics. The national debt had been climbing for decades. Manufacturing had declined in many communities. Immigration policy had become dysfunctional. Political polarization had deepened. Trust in Congress, the media, and other institutions had steadily eroded. Both parties contributed to these problems.
Those fires were already burning.
What has changed is how a president has chosen to interact with them. In healthier periods, presidents try to lower the political temperature even as they pursue their agendas. Trump has repeatedly framed frustrations over cultural change, economic dislocation, and mistrust of elites as proof that only personal loyalty to him can fix what is broken. That is the logic of an accelerant, not a firebreak.
Consider our democratic institutions.
Every president clashes with Congress, criticizes the media, and disagrees with judges. That friction is part of constitutional government. Trump has gone further, treating courts, elections, career civil servants, universities, and political opponents not simply as rivals within a shared system, but as obstacles to be overcome through personal power.
He has encouraged supporters to view adverse rulings, investigations, and election losses not as the normal workings of constitutional government, but as evidence that the entire system is corrupt.
Constitutional government depends on institutions larger than any president. We entrust courts to apply the law, legislatures to debate and compromise, agencies to administer programs, and independent media to scrutinize power. When loyalty to one leader replaces confidence in those institutions, democratic foundations become more fragile and the guardrails against abuse grow weaker.
The same pattern appears in government itself.
Most Americans support eliminating waste, fraud, and unnecessary bureaucracy. Government should always seek greater efficiency. But it also depends on experienced professionals who inspect food, manage disasters, administer veterans’ benefits, protect financial markets, monitor public health, and keep transportation systems operating safely.
When a president portrays career civil servants as a “deep state” enemy rather than as the people who make government work, he erodes the capacity on which good governance rests.
Reducing bureaucracy is one thing. Hollowing out governing capacity is another. Great powers often retain imposing buildings, military strength, and formal authority long after their ability to govern effectively has begun to deteriorate. A nation can have massive defense budgets and grand monuments while struggling to process benefits, maintain infrastructure, or respond coherently to crises. When skilled professionals are driven out or intimidated into silence, the machinery remains—but it grinds and stalls.
The economy offers another example.
Reasonable people can disagree about tariffs, taxes, and trade. Some Trump initiatives may encourage domestic investment or reduce dependence on foreign suppliers. But tariffs also raise costs for businesses and consumers and invite retaliation from trading partners. When trade policy becomes a political weapon rather than part of a coherent long-term strategy, companies face greater uncertainty. They hesitate to invest, make expensive changes to supply chains, and risk losing markets they once relied upon.
The greater danger is not necessarily sudden collapse. It is the gradual accumulation of higher costs, greater volatility, rising debt, and reduced competitiveness. Short-term political victories take precedence over long-term stability. The fire of economic anxiety was already burning; erratic and personalized policymaking adds fuel.
The same concern applies to investments in America’s future.
The United States became a global leader by investing in scientific research, higher education, technological innovation, infrastructure, and human talent. These investments rarely produce immediate political rewards. They require patience, respect for expertise, and the ability to think beyond the next election.
Nations often decline not because they suddenly become poor, but because they gradually stop investing in the strengths that made them prosperous. Roads and bridges age without replacement. Public universities struggle to maintain quality and affordability. Scientific research loses predictable funding. Students receive more partisan rhetoric and less civic education.
Trump did not start those trends. But by making suspicion of “experts” and “elites” central to his political identity, he accelerates the willingness to treat long-term investments as expendable.
Our alliances deserve similar attention.
Trump has pushed some allies to spend more on their own defense, something many Americans believed was overdue. But alliances depend on more than military budgets. They require trust, predictability, and confidence that America’s commitments will endure beyond one administration.
When a president repeatedly questions long-standing alliances, praises authoritarian leaders more warmly than democratic partners, or suggests that treaty obligations depend on personal favor, allies notice. They begin preparing for a world in which America may no longer be dependable.
None of these developments exists in isolation.
Weaker institutions reduce accountability. Reduced accountability makes corruption easier to normalize. Polarization discourages compromise. Distrust makes expertise easier to dismiss. Fiscal weakness limits future choices. Reduced investment damages competitiveness. Alliance uncertainty complicates every major international decision. Each problem reinforces the others.
That interaction is why the word “accelerant” fits so well.
Trump is not the sole cause of America’s challenges, nor is he the first president to exploit division. But he sits at the intersection of many existing weaknesses, and his leadership pushes them in the same direction. He takes grievances that predate him and repackages them as reasons to distrust institutions and place faith in personal loyalty.
America’s debt, polarization, institutional distrust, and economic anxieties existed before Donald Trump. He did not ignite every fire. But he has poured fuel on several of them at once.
The choice before us is larger than one president or one election. It is whether we will continue allowing our frustrations to become tools of personal power—or insist that they become catalysts for institutional repair.
History will not decide that for us. Americans will.
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Phil Huber is a retired Army Reserve colonel, federal civil servant, and consultant who writes about civic education. He lives in Fredericksburg.
