The Paradigm of Decline

Across Europe, a striking consensus has taken hold. Quiz a passerby on the streets of Paris, Berlin or London on the state of society and you are likely to hear all too familiar lamentations concerning the declining state of both government performance and social cohesion. The cost of living continues to rise whilst wages stagnate and public services buckle, politics is brittle and the future looks more precarious than the past. This transnational belief, one which has been duly capitalised on by swathes of opportunistic populists across the continent, has become a defining phenomenon of contemporary society in Europe. It is what one might coin the paradigm of decline.

But is such a perception true? Even among countries which boast a strong economic performance by global standards, voters have increasingly diagnosed their respective political systems as existing in a state of agonising failure. This sense of decline is not simply a case of drawn out pessimism; it is an enduring social mood which commands a tangible influence on contemporary politics, one that holds sway over the topic of protests, popular debates, and even the outcomes of elections. It is therefore pertinent to understand why such a sentiment has gripped Europe. 

Perhaps an explanation lies in the weight of historical expectation. Postwar Europe became innately defined by the status of steady progress. From the 1950s to the 1990s, rapid economic growth infused the continent with relative prosperity. Yes, one might opine that from the charred rubble and broken societies of postwar Europe, an upwards trajectory was the only direction possible. Yet to render such a judgement is to neglect acknowledging how the primarily-welfare oriented policies tangibly improved the lives of millions. Better housing, accessible healthcare and an ample supply of jobs from which a single earner could support a sizable family enabled socio-economic mobility en masse. However, this expectation exhibited signs of flatlining by the 1990s.

Increased globalisation saw cheaper labour and goods imported from abroad hollow out Europe’s industrial capacity, while aging populations began straining pension systems and placed further pressure on already crumbling welfare systems. The 2008 financial crisis, which marked the genesis of an industrial scale roll-out of restrictive monetary policies across Europe, represented the final nail in the coffin for postwar prosperity. 

The weaponisation of this disgruntled sentiment has become a powerful tool of populist tacticians who seek to sow further discontent across continental society, but it lacks context. Decline is often relative and Europe did not collapse - it stalled. But when compared to the rapid ascent of yesteryears, and the visible dynamism of economic growth, stagnation can feel like loss.

Despite this perception, much of Europe remains prosperous, at least on paper. Unemployment in the European Union is at a record low, income inequality between countries continues to decrease (albeit, with internal inequality increasing) and social safety nets endure. So why have general public perceptions diverged so extremely from these indicators?

Distribution is certainly a factor. Growth, where it exists, is uneven; often the city-based urban professional class thrives, while smaller towns and rural areas have experienced a comparative decline. Housing costs burgeon while wages stagnate, and younger generations feel locked out of milestones previous generations inherited as a given, public services, while still extensive, are buckling - a state embodied by longer waiting times for essential services, overcrowded classrooms and disintegrating infrastructure.

Inflation stemming from the impact of the Global pandemic widened the gap between statistics and daily life. Despite government assurances that services remained accessible and economies healthy, voters felt poorer. Is this perception truly unreasonable? For most, politics is lived at the checkout, and prosperity is not accurately reflected by slight numerical increases on a GDP graph.

The perception of decline has resulted in a near-universal recalibration to the political strategy of parties across Europe. Parties have embarked on campaigns based on the narrative of rescue, returning states to their previous prosperity, rather than the historically prominent promise of improvement. Such narratives, which frequently project the image of altruistic populist saviours arriving to save the nation from decay, restore its identity and dispossess crony elites, have flourished by ratifying the public’s sense that something, somewhere, has gone horribly wrong; but most importantly, that someone is to blame for such a dire predicament in the first instance.

Mainstream parties, or at least the incumbent governments, have struggled to counter this mood. The European Union, which once enjoyed a sustained level of relative pride among its citizens as a beacon of democratic values and enabler of prosperity, is now frequently perceived as both distant and restrictive, even among vehement Europhiles. A further decline in the perception of the EU as a bastion of democracy is too apparent; indeed, one poll conducted last year showed that 51% of young people in the EU consider the bloc ‘a good idea, but very inadequately implemented’, while 37% deem the union not ‘particularly democratic’.

Media dynamics have further exacerbated this trend, as digital access has increased so too has constant exposure to a cycle of crises. Frequent reporting on economic, environmental and geo-political concerns generates clicks, spreading widespread alarm and creating a sense of unrelenting emergency across society. Even genuine success and positive developments often fail to break through this granite-esque barrier of outrage and alarm.

So what comes next? If current trends continue, the paradigm of decline will remain a central force in European democracy. Elections will remain volatile, and politics characterised by fragmented parliaments and short-lived governments. But decline is not synonymous with destiny - it is indeed surmountable. The deeper challenge lies in the psychological sphere; rebuilding a credible narrative of progress does not require false promises of utopia, instead, citizens long for the assurance that tomorrow can be both meaningfully and materially better than today. Until then, the paradigm of decline will continue to shape how Europe votes, governs, and understands itself, not as a continent in collapse, but as one uncertain of how to move forward again.

Image: Thomas Cole/ "The Course of Empire: Destruction"

Public domain.