menu_open Columnists
We use cookies to provide some features and experiences in QOSHE

More information  .  Close

I Spent Decades Working with American Officials. The Country I Knew Is Gone

8 0
27.03.2026

Fact-based journalism that sparks the Canadian conversation

Articles Business Environment Health Politics Arts & Culture Society

Special Series Hope You’re Well For the Love of the Game Living Rooms In Other Worlds: A Space Exploration Terra Cognita More special series >

For the Love of the Game

In Other Worlds: A Space Exploration

More special series >

Events The Walrus Talks The Walrus Video Room The Walrus Leadership Roundtables The Walrus Leadership Forums Article Club

The Walrus Video Room

The Walrus Leadership Roundtables

The Walrus Leadership Forums

Subscribe Renew your subscription Change your address Magazine Issues Newsletters Podcasts

Renew your subscription

The Walrus Lab Hire The Walrus Lab Amazon First Novel Award

Amazon First Novel Award

I Spent Decades Working with American Officials. The Country I Knew Is Gone

The world will need to adjust to a less dominant United States

For much of my career, the stability of the global economic system depended on decisions taken in Washington, DC—and on whether those decisions were bound by rules or by discretion.

Working with American officials for decades, across multiple administrations and institutions, my years living in Washington were part of that experience. In moments of real pressure, I saw first-hand the seriousness with which many approached power—particularly the understanding that power must be constrained if it is to be legitimate and durable.

That understanding mattered, and it shaped outcomes.

Decode the stories behind the headlines with The Walrus newsletter. Sign up for The Walrus newsletter and get trusted Canadian journalism straight in your inbox.

I was in the United States Treasury Building for the final meetings on the Canada–US Free Trade Agreement. The negotiations were on the brink of collapse. Canada was not prepared to accept a deal without binding judicial review of trade decisions, having seen how easily US agencies could disregard obligations when domestic politics intervened. As the clock approached midnight on the final day, we had largely resigned ourselves to failure.

Moments later, then treasury secretary James Baker informed us that Ronald Reagan, US president at the time, had agreed to independent judicial review—to bind the United States to the rule of law rather than to political discretion. The agreement was struck.

That decision did not weaken American power—it legitimized it. It signalled that the United States was willing to bind itself in order to lead. That was the America many of us worked with. And that is the legacy now being dismantled.

Recent US trade decisions—including sweeping tariffs imposed even after the Supreme Court curbed certain emergency levies—show how the United States is moving away from rule-bound leadership toward unilateral economic measures.

The disagreement at the heart of today’s debate is not emotional but analytical. Power and leadership are not the same thing. American power was always the underlying reality—through economic scale, military reach, and financial dominance. Leadership offered the choice to channel that power through rules, institutions, and shared decision making rather than through unilateral discretion. Rules were not a constraint on power; they were how power became credible.

Institutions such as the World Trade Organization, the International Monetary Fund, and, later, the Group of Twenty were imperfect by design. Their purpose was not to equalize influence but to make asymmetry workable—to embed power in processes that others could rely on even when outcomes were unequal.

That choice paid dividends. It reduced volatility, limited escalation, and encouraged adaptation rather than resistance. Power alone can compel compliance, but leadership creates predictability. And predictability is what allows co-operation to endure under stress.

Today, what has changed is not a normal disagreement among former allies. It is an erosion.

The Sun King Is Back—and His Name Is Trump

Canada Is Already at War with the US—We Just Don’t Know It Yet

In His Rambling Davos Speech, Trump Calls Canada “Ungrateful”

Prime Minister Mark Carney, in a January 2026 speech, described the current moment as a rupture—a break in the continuity of rules, expectations, and restraints that made co-operation possible. Rupture is not abstract—it has concrete consequences.

When trade rules become conditional, disputes escalate rather than resolve. Retaliation replaces adjudication, and economic conflict becomes harder to contain. When financial coordination weakens, shocks travel faster and farther, and crisis response becomes fragmented rather than collective. When commitments are treated as provisional, climate coordination stalls—not because countries disagree on goals, but because no one is confident that others will act.

In each case, the problem is not bad faith but uncertainty. When rules no longer anchor expectations, every actor hedges. Risk premiums rise, co-operation narrows, and stability becomes episodic rather than systemic.

This is the real cost of rupture: not the loss of influence in any single negotiation but the steady decay of the environment in which co-operation is possible at all.

There is also an internal dimension to this erosion. Systems that struggle to deliver basic security and predictability to their own citizens find it harder to sustain consistent, credible action abroad—not because of hypocrisy but because dysfunction constrains capacity.

Governments absorbed by internal volatility have less bandwidth for sustained international engagement. Policy becomes reactive. Commitments become fragile. Allies notice and so do rivals.

This is not a moral judgment—it is a functional one. Durable leadership abroad rests on institutional coherence at home.

The rest of the world must adjust to a less dominant United States, and the United States must adjust to exercising influence without assuming deference. A similar pattern is evident in the security realm: recent Middle East operations have been justified as exceptional prerogatives, pursued with minimal consultation and on the assumption that allies and markets will absorb the cost.

The United States often frames its actions through the idea of American exceptionalism—the belief that it is inherently different and, often, exempt from the constraints that apply to others. At its best, this belief functioned as a discipline—a claim that the United States would hold itself to a higher standard.

Increasingly, it operates in the opposite direction. Exceptionalism now inhibits institutional learning. It makes comparison politically toxic, and course correction appears as weakness rather than adaptation. When systems underperform, the response is not reform but denial. Leadership requires the ability to adjust. Systems that cannot learn cannot lead.

We have passed a watershed moment, and American primacy will not return. Structural shifts in economic weight, demographics, and domestic political constraints make that clear, regardless of electoral outcomes.

The challenge now is shared. The rest of the world must adjust to a less dominant United States, and the United States must adjust to exercising influence without assuming deference. Leadership in such a system will be more distributed, more negotiated, and more fragile—but still necessary if instability is to be contained.

The question is no longer whether American primacy will continue—it will not. The question is whether enough countries, including the United States, will recognize that in a multipolar world, the alternative to rules is not freedom of action but permanent instability.

Reprinted, with permission, from the Centre for International Governance Innovation.

After Intense Lobbying, Carney Allows Gas-Powered Data Centres in Alberta

March 27, 2026March 27, 2026

Trump Tests the Limits of American Power in Iran

March 25, 2026March 26, 2026

Canadians Are Cheapskates. Just Look at 24 Sussex

March 20, 2026March 20, 2026

Support Independent Canadian Reporting and Storytelling

The Walrus is located within the bounds of Treaty 13 signed with the Mississaugas of the Credit. This land is also the traditional territory of the Anishnabeg, the Haudenosaunee, and the Wendat peoples.

© 2026 The Walrus. All Rights Reserved. Charitable Registration Number: No. 861851624-RR0001

The Walrus uses cookies for personalization, to customize its online advertisements, and for other purposes. Learn more or change your cookie preferences.

Fund Canadian journalism to help you make informed decisions. Fund The Walrus.

Not ready to donate just yet? Sign up to our free newsletter so you never miss a story.

I’m Brett, a contributing writer with The Walrus. This winter, I reported from Nuuk, Greenland, the quiet capital transformed by the threat of an American invasion into an unlikely stage for a global showdown.

What struck me was how deeply the threats had unsettled residents. People were on edge. But I was also struck by their willingness to share their stories.

​​The Walrus knows you need to hear from people who live in these places, and from reporters who are actually there. When you support The Walrus, you’re supporting real journalism.

The Walrus is investing in on-the-ground reporting while other newsrooms are getting slashed by corporate owners. We need your help to send writers where they should be.

Our goal was to raise $30,000 before the end of the month. Will you join the 400 members who’ve donated already?

I’m Brett, a contributing writer with The Walrus. This winter, I reported from Nuuk, Greenland, the quiet capital transformed by the threat of an American invasion into an unlikely stage for a global showdown.

What struck me was how deeply the threats had unsettled residents. People were on edge. But I was also struck by their willingness to share their stories.

​​The Walrus knows you need to hear from people who live in these places, and from reporters who are actually there. When you support The Walrus, you’re supporting real journalism.

The Walrus is investing in on-the-ground reporting while other newsrooms are getting slashed by corporate owners. We need your help to send writers where they should be.

Our goal was to raise $30,000 before the end of the month. Will you join the 400 members who’ve donated already?


© The Walrus