Pride, hubris and decline
of powerful nations

Herodotus warnings on overreach and unchecked power still resonate today

By Andrew Burlone

June 26, 2026

Herodotus, whom Cicero already described as the “father of history,” is one of the first authors to have tried to understand events rather than simply record them. In his Histories, he does more than list the battles of the Greco‑Persian Wars: he questions rulers’ choices, societies’ beliefs, and the effects of arrogance on the fate of great powers. He wants to understand why powerful societies make disastrous decisions and why leaders, intoxicated by success, end up confusing strength with wisdom.

He shows how systems of power shape decision‑making, how repeated successes intoxicate leaders, and how unstable public fortune can be. In his eyes, today’s wars and negotiations are not something entirely new, but a new variation on an old pattern: arrogance narrowing judgment and overconfidence becoming dangerous.

Who really decides when war is at stake, how far does pride isolate those decision‑makers from criticism, and what safeguards remain when confidence begins to drift into excess?

Herodotus recognized the importance of political systems, while rejecting the simplistic moral frameworks that great powers often favour. He would highlight the contrast between the United States, which presents itself as a democracy with elections, courts, and a bustling media landscape, and Iran, where republican institutions and religious authority coexist with powerful unelected centres of influence. He would also point to Russia, where an electoral façade masks a highly centralized power structure dominated by oligarchic elites. Yet his core question would remain the same: who really decides when war is on the table, how far pride insulates those decision‑makers from criticism, and what checks still exist when confidence drifts into excess?

In theory, democratic regimes encourage debate and self‑correction. In practice, they can also amplify fear, reward staged certainty, and reduce complex geopolitical issues to emotionally satisfying slogans. Authoritarian regimes, for their part, reach decisions more quickly because fewer voices stand in the way, but at the cost of dissent and genuine reality‑testing.

The chronicler of the Greco‑Persian Wars insists on one point: success ultimately distorts judgment. A leader who piles up victories may come to believe that success is owed to him. This is hybris, that Greek excess of confidence which drives people to ignore limits. In his Histories, hybris is not just a personal flaw but a pathology of power that narrows perception, encourages escalation, and silences dissent instead of treating it as a warning.

This pattern is visible in the rhetoric surrounding today’s wars. On one side, faith in technological superiority, power projection, and economic pressure feeds the idea that strikes, sanctions, and threats will eventually produce a supposedly stable order. On the other hand, ideological conviction, relentless retaliation, and the capacity to absorb blows nourish the illusion that exalted suffering becomes a strategic asset and that the willingness to pay a higher price proves that history is on your side.

In such an environment, “madness” does not mean insanity but a shrinking of judgment: the inability to weigh proportionality, risk, and indirect consequences. Herodotus is fascinated by the moment when confidence tips into intoxication and power behaves as if limits applied only to others. In his narratives, reversals abound: powers believed to be unshakable suddenly weaken, victors misread their successes and treat them as a licence for further excess, and public legitimacy vanishes far faster than rulers expect.

‘Once every move by an adversary is read as proof that pressure must be increased, conflict becomes self‑sustaining and the stories each side tells about the other turn into traps.’

Seen through this lens, our wars become tests of how states manage shifting balances of power. Superior force can destroy targets, but it does not automatically stabilize societies, erase historical memory, or break cycles of retaliation. Resilience under pressure also fails to guarantee security: a state may endure and yet grow more isolated, more brittle, and more exposed to shocks it cannot absorb indefinitely.

The Greek historian would remind us that these powers operate within internal and regional contexts that are constantly in motion: elections, rivalries, social anger, economic tensions, and changing alliances rapidly rewrite the rules of the game. Policies that appear forceful in the short term can generate strategic weakness by exhausting legitimacy, radicalizing opponents, and teaching societies to expect confrontation as the norm. The situation may become unstable, but the powerful are often the last to realize it.

For the author of the Histories, excessive pride inevitably invites a backlash. Catastrophe does not come from nowhere; it is built, decision after decision, in an atmosphere of certainty. Hybris calls forth nemesis, not as divine punishment but as the reversal prepared by past choices. Herodotus is not naïve: he knows that states seek security and that threats can be very real. But he insists on a simple demand: the first duty of a leader is to recognize his limits. Military power, economic coercion, and ideological endurance all have them. National pride, however intense, does not erase those limits; it merely makes them easier to ignore.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinion of WestmountMag.ca.

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Andrew Burlone, co-founder of WestmountMag.ca, began his media journey at NOUS magazine. Subsequently, he launched Visionnaires, holding the position of creative director for over 30 years. Andrew is passionate about communication, culture and politics, with a keen interest in visual arts and architecture.