As elaborated in Introduction to Structural Studies: every theory ever developed in human society is merely a tool for survival and reproduction. Any explanatory framework about the future can be internally self-consistent. Yet every form of human social organization contains its own rationality. Only history possesses true adaptability — you sing the song suited to the mountain you’re on, and the strategy you use must match the stage you’re in. Today’s truth becomes tomorrow’s fallacy. The only constant is the survival competition every living organism engages in for continued existence, and the endless game played to secure the resources needed to persist.
The Soviet Union’s peak was in the 1970s–80s. During this era, the Soviet machine held the upper hand in the great-power contest, building extensive welfare housing for ordinary urban citizens. All of this traced back to the oil crisis of the 1970s. As the world’s largest oil exporter at the time, when international oil prices peaked in the 70s–80s, Siberian oil production increased tenfold in annual output, and natural gas production grew fifteenfold. The Soviets were minting money simply by exporting energy. It was like someone who struck it rich overnight because their family owned a mine — even with only an elementary school education, lacking any real skills, they could still command the devotion of many simply by virtue of their wealth.
With oil money flowing in, every military-industrial and heavy industry sector received endless orders. They built a formidable military force that inspired fear worldwide, which translated into greater geopolitical leverage and drew more resources under their control — a positive feedback loop of reinforcing incentives. Not entirely unlike the military-industrial complex that dominates the Eagle’s domain today.
Looking back from today at the 1970s–80s, you’ll be struck by a remarkable discovery: the foundational infrastructure underlying all of today’s technological achievements was born in that era — mainframe computers, the internet, the semiconductor industry. The Soviet Union’s advantage in aerospace technology was deeply intertwined with the space race. Yet many other emerging industries were never deliberately cultivated or even planned — and yet, it was precisely those new industries that became the source of incremental growth and the new wellspring of power.
In World War II, the Soviet Union paid an enormous price but ultimately achieved victory. This triumph gave ordinary Soviet citizens an unprecedented sense of pride, and the war filtered out a cohort of battle-tested, deeply loyal successors. Such an atmosphere causes people to overlook existing problems — every society has its issues, but the key lies in whether those issues are recognized before they become critical. The Eagle’s industrial hollowing-out problem today is also the result of failing to adjust in time. Anyone can claim to hold the truth, but your truth only wins genuine conviction when your survival stakes align with your survival position. Otherwise it becomes empty talk, and invites fierce skepticism.
Although Khrushchev fell from power due to capability issues, one cannot deny that he was willing to confront the problems that existed. He dismantled permanent bureaucratic tenure, implemented rotation policies, accelerated leadership turnover, and granted enterprises greater autonomy — none of this was wrong in principle, but he overstepped, and it tore something vital. During his reshuffles, up to 79% of positions couldn’t be retained by their incumbents — displacing all those who had risked death on the WWII battlefield just to secure even a modest post.
Policies demanding the confiscation of private cars and vacation dachas, along with cuts to welfare benefits, turned many more against him. So he was ousted. The successor who followed reversed everything he had cancelled and declared his commitment to maintaining organizational stability. In the subsequent eighteen years, Soviet bureaucrats only left their posts by dying — never by retiring. This created an imperial brain that was mutually entangled, intellectually rigid, and ideologically conservative.
Yet paradoxically, it was during this period of the most severe mental ossification that the Soviet Union appeared at its most powerful and most influential internationally. Because ordinary people only care about food, clothing, shelter, and daily necessities — they judge the quality of things only through such everyday details. While the West was lurching from one economic crisis to another during the same period, with ordinary Westerners mentally exhausted by constant uncertainty, the Soviet Union was remarkably stable. The upper echelons, unable to change positions but securely entrenched, were stable. The middle tier, unable to advance but going nowhere, was also stable. The lower tier, sustained by oil and gas revenues that funded generous welfare benefits, felt secure. Although Soviet food supply even required imports to meet demand during this time, the oil and gas income was plentiful enough to satisfy the special needs of those at the top, guarantee the basic welfare of the middle and lower classes, build a force that inspired fear in the world, and sustain all the supporting industries and jobs that came with it. The most frustrated were those stuck in the middle — unable to move up. They later became the vanguard of change. At the time, ordinary Soviet citizens believed deeply in the Soviet truth, because their daily welfare gave them stable lives — a stability that even made ordinary Westerners caught in periodic economic crises envious. When oil prices reached their peak, Soviet power and influence reached its own pinnacle.
In 1981 the Soviet Union was awe-inspiring; then came a sudden, precipitous fall — directly correlated with the rapid collapse of oil prices. Because when money flows freely, every flaw can be papered over. Even food security had depended on imports. When income collapsed sharply, simply feeding the population became a problem. The only path was rapid contraction — frantic remedies applied to a failing system, with every type of problem compounding and cascading, until the whole edifice came crashing down.
It’s like a boss who never finished elementary school, who became fabulously wealthy because the family owned a mine and prices were surging. He expanded aggressively on all fronts, lecturing everywhere about his own success story. Because he had money, he genuinely attracted many inexperienced followers. But the day the mine became worthless, everything unraveled — debts emerged everywhere, and every hole had to be filled. At that point, other than rapidly contracting and selling off assets to survive, there was no other option.
And then — even the mine itself was gone.