In addition to helping us avoid repeating the mistakes of the past, history can also teach us that our pessimistic urges, when we believe that all is lost, have nothing original about them.
There was a time, soon after the euphoria that followed the end of World War II, when failure seemed certain and that the selflessness and sacrifices of the “greatest generation,” which had ensured victory of the “free world” against fascism, had been spent in vain. The early successes of the Soviet Union, starting with the detonation of its first nuclear bomb in August 1949 through the launch of the Sputnik satellite in October 1957, added to the “loss” of China in 1949 and ill-starred beginnings to the Korean War in 1950, came as body blows that threatened to fell what just a few years before had seemed like an implacable force.
Soon, mass pessimism was taking hold of Washington and allied capitals, leading otherwise intelligent officials to inflate the Soviet threat with the so-called “missile gap” that put the West’s very existence at risk. Only years later would it become known that a gap did exist — in the US’ favor — and signs emerged that all along the USSR was plagued by contradictions and inefficiencies that imposed severe handicaps in almost every race Moscow engaged in against the West, be it in the military, ideological, social or economic sphere.
After years of waging a Cold War against an opponent that would ultimately become so heavy it would crush its fragile foundations, the West, self-doubts notwithstanding, proved it was resilient enough to wear out a giant that had long been thought could not be beaten. Not only that, but the West never allowed defeatism to discourage its constituents from continuing to fight for what it believed in.
Sixty years later, the West finds itself in a similar situation. Just as it did back then, pessimism pervades in the wake of a sweeping ideological victory. No sooner had the “end of history” been hailed by the West, than fears arose it would be made history, this time because of China’s seemingly unstoppable “rise.” Even the almighty US, the remaining superpower, now seemed incapable of standing up to Beijing, deflated and overextended as it was by two open-ended wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, as if Korea and Vietnam had not been equally taxing on the national treasury.
This is not to say that the emergence of China does not represent a challenge to the international system. It does. However, its surfacing as a force to be reckoned with should by no means force the rest of the world into a stupor that allows Beijing to do what it wants, or to turn into liars liberal democracies that a few years ago had vowed, to quote a serving prime minister, never to sell their ideals to the “almighty dollar.” Knowledge of history, of the other dark periods in the recent past, should be sufficient to make us realize not only that we have seen all this before, but more importantly, that something can be done about it.
There is no reason why democracies should capitulate on human rights just because China’s economy is supposedly holding the whole world together, or that Beijing’s military has become so strong as to paralyze an entire region. That’s mostly a myth, a monster the West created out of its own fears. It had similar apprehensions about Japan in the 1980s; how risible those fears seem today.
The “China threat” looms large because through pessimism, the West has allowed Beijing — a Beijing that is endlessly wracked by insecurity, ironically — to get away with murder for too long.
The West has been there, and prevailed. Did it have assurances it would be victorious? No. However, democracies fought nonetheless. If history teaches us one thing, it is that there is no reason to think and act any differently today.
The closure of the Strait of Hormuz has sent the vast Asian chemicals industry into a tailspin. Deprived of the likes of Qatari natural gas and Saudi Arabian oil, the region’s fertilizer and plastics plants are slowing production or even shutting down. Everywhere except China, that is. In petrochemicals, China is unique. As well as a traditional industry that uses oil and gas as feedstock, it has parallel output that relies on its abundant domestic coal. Unsurprisingly, India and other regional powers want to copy and paste the Chinese method. This would not be easy — or climate friendly. The
KMT Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun’s (鄭麗文) recent visit to Beijing and her upcoming visit to Washington will serve as a high-level test of her diplomatic mettle. In Beijing, Cheng was received with symbolic gestures, a warm reception, and high-level access. In Washington, she will receive far less pomp and far sharper questions about the KMT’s vision for the future of Taiwan. Her challenge will be to persuade Washington that the KMT’s engagement with China can coexist with strong deterrence. Cheng’s April 7-12 visit to mainland China coincided with an intense period of conflict in Iran. Despite the strategic significance of Cheng’s trip,
History might remember 2026, not 2022, as the year artificial intelligence (AI) truly changed everything. ChatGPT’s launch was a product moment. What is happening now is an anthropological moment: AI is no longer merely answering questions. It is now taking initiative and learning from others to get things done, behaving less like software and more like a colleague. The economic consequence is the rise of the one-person company — a structure anticipated in the 2024 book The Choices Amid Great Changes, which I coauthored. The real target of AI is not labor. It is hierarchy. When AI sharply reduces the cost
US President Donald Trump recently repeated his claim that “Taiwan stole America’s chip industry,” reigniting public debate on the issue. As a former Taiwanese minister of economic affairs and an entrepreneur deeply involved in semiconductor supply chain development, I feel a responsibility to clarify this misunderstanding. From the perspective of global industrial evolution and the economic principle of comparative advantage, such a statement appears overly simplistic and risks obscuring the essence of the issue. The rise of Taiwan’s semiconductor industry was not built on “replacing America,” but rather emerged as a result of countries pursuing different development paths within the