A centuries-old theory of civilisational decline resurfaced when I read my stepson's essay on whether our society is in danger. If he is right that we sit at a critical point in our history, it prompts five key questions that organisational leaders should be asking themselves right now.
The cycle of civilisation
Tytler's cycle is said to chart a civilisation's rise and fall through nine repeating stages: bondage → spiritual faith → great courage → liberty → abundance → selfishness → complacency → apathy → dependence — and back to bondage.
Although widely attributed to the Scottish historian Alexander Fraser Tytler, it remained completely unknown to me despite also being Scottish. I only came across it when reading my stepson Tom's essay competition submission: "To what extent is our civilisation in danger?"
His essay won. And although that was over a year ago, it came back to me recently while listening to debates about AI's growing influence on our future.
Do civilisations really follow a cycle?
Once I dug further into Tytler, the first surprise was that it might not have been Tytler's at all. Historians point out that it is rhetoric more than scholarship. But many alternative models of rise and fall exist and reach similar conclusions.
Spengler compared civilisations to living organisms that inevitably age and die. Toynbee argued that societies rise when they respond creatively to challenges and fall when elites fail to adapt. Ibn Khaldun, centuries before, thought that "social cohesion" held empires together until decadence weakened it. Peter Turchin has attempted to quantify cycles of roughly 200–300 years driven by economics and elite competition. Ray Dalio, founder of Bridgewater Associates, has devoted much of his life to understanding the repeating Big Cycles of World Order.
Different data, different angles, yet the same conclusion keeps surfacing: civilisations, more often than not, decline. Abundance leads to complacency, complacency to disconnection and drift, drift to collapse.
Where are we now?
If the model holds, today's West appears to sit uncomfortably between apathy and dependence. UK voter turnout has been subdued since 2001: an average of 64% between 2001 and 2024 compared with 76% between 1922 and 1977. Only 27% of the UK public say they trust the government. Regular volunteering stands at a record low of 16%. Interest in news has dropped from 63% in 2016 to 46% today.
Dependence gets more nuanced. In earlier periods, dependence meant reliance on rulers and the state. That dynamic still exists, and recent years have reinforced it. But a second form of dependence has formed around digital systems. Smartphones have shifted from tools to tethers. Algorithms shape not just what we watch and read, but increasingly how we think about the world.
A third layer is emerging rapidly. Dependence on AI is harder to measure but increasingly visible. Many people, especially those in the workforce, rely on large language models for work that previously required sustained thought. Some use these tools to extend their cognitive capabilities. Many simply outsource them.
Taken together, these shifts suggest more than convenience. They look like early-stage symptoms of Tytler's ninth step. The open question is whether governments, the tech elite, or the systems themselves will hold the reins.
How we got here
If we are indeed between apathy and dependence, a look in the rear-view mirror helps explain how. Estimates about the start of our current cycle vary, but using the basis of a 200-year span places the beginning somewhere in the mid-nineteenth century. The timeline maps surprisingly well:
1830s–70s: Victorian reformation, abolition of slavery, education and trade union acts (bondage to spiritual faith). 1880s–1910s: Industrial power, financial might, population growth, the rise of the suffrage movement (great courage and liberty). 1914–45: The Great Wars, setbacks to liberty then renewed courage and expansion of rights (cycle interrupted). 1950s–70s: Rising living standards, broader education, consumer culture (abundance). 1980s–90s: Finance-led growth, conspicuous consumption, widening inequality (selfishness). 1990s–2000s: Confidence that prosperity was secure, despite growing fragilities (complacency). Today: apathy and dependence.
Questions for the boardroom
For leaders, this framing turns into a set of questions worth holding in view.
- On accountability: Is our organisation taking responsibility for its impacts, and protecting the resources that society will depend on in future?
- On AI: Are we using AI to extend human capability, or to replace it? How dependent are we already, and are we engaged enough to influence its development?
- On shocks: Which shocks matter most for us, and how resilient are we? What should we do now to increase resilience and reduce exposure?
- On long-termism: What commitments made today could place us on the right side of history in 10, 20, or 50 years? How do we build durability without rigidity?
- On humanity: How do we counter apathy and dependence in our own people? What fears about the future are they carrying, and how do we help them face it with purpose, hope, and accountability?
If Tom's question was whether civilisation is in danger, the question for leaders is whether we recognise the moment we are in — and whether we intend to drift with the cycle or bend it.
