Why Nations Rise and Fall

Why do some nations thrive while others collapse? It’s a question I’ve been chewing over as I read this Nobel Prize winning book, and realising the connection between the book and the work I’ve been doing on the Glory of God.

In Why Nations Fail, Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson argue that the systems nations build determine their fate.

Inclusive systems—those that share power, uphold fairness, and create opportunities for all—give life to societies.

Extractive systems concentrate power at the top, stripping resources and dignity from the many. These systems may appear strong, but their foundation is hollow. They collapse under the weight of their own greed.

The Bible has been telling us this story for centuries. Nations rise and fall based on their relationship to the Glory of God—His justice, mercy, and compassion. When these principles shape a society, it thrives. When they are rejected, that society begins to unravel, and the vulnerable are left in its ruins.

The Glory of God is not abstract. It is His weight—His k?bôd—pressing into the fabric of the world. When Moses asked to see God’s Glory, God responded with words that revealed His very essence: “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion, and sin. Yet He does not leave the guilty unpunished” (Exodus 34:6-7). God’s Glory is revealed in His justice, holding oppression and wrongdoing accountable. It shines through His mercy, offering forgiveness and restoration to the broken. And it moves through His compassion, refusing to ignore the suffering of the weak. These attributes are not just for individuals; they are the foundation of systems that reflect God’s ways and allow life to flourish.

Why Nations Fail describes what happens when these foundations are abandoned. Extractive systems concentrate power and wealth in the hands of the few, silencing dissent and exploiting the many. This isn’t new. Pharaoh’s Egypt was an extractive system. The Israelites were enslaved to build Egypt’s wealth, and for a time, the empire appeared unshakable. But God heard the cries of the oppressed and acted. Pharaoh’s Egypt collapsed because it rejected God’s justice. Later, the prophets warned Israel’s leaders that they were building the same kind of system: “You trample on the poor… You deprive the poor of justice in the courts” (Amos 5:11-12). These systems may appear to succeed for a time, but their strength is a lie. Revelation 18 gives us Babylon as the ultimate symbol of such systems—an empire grown rich through greed and exploitation, but destined for ruin. When Babylon falls, its merchants weep, not for people but for lost profit. Babylon is a warning: systems that reject justice, mercy, and compassion cannot endure.

And yet, there is another way. Inclusive systems reflect God’s Glory by creating opportunities, restoring dignity, and prioritizing the care of the vulnerable. In Acts 2, the early church gives us a glimpse of what this looks like: “They gave to anyone as he had need… and no one was in need.” It wasn’t forced; it was a natural response to being shaped by God’s character.

Over the course of my life I have been part of seven different attempts by Christians to live in “intentional community.” It was often a difficult and sometimes a beautiful experience. Whenever it was beautiful it was because Justice, Mercy and Compassion were being expressed. Whenever it was difficult it was because they were missing. Two of the communities attempted to care for young people who were homeless or at risk of being homeless. It was astounding to see how just the simple process of having clear boundaries (justice) and yet maintaining a commitment to relationship (mercy and compassion) would create a sense of community that changed lives.

Justice, Mercy and Compassion are not abstract; they are precisely what God’s Glory looks like as it comes into contact with broken systems and the hope that results. We see glimpses of this same hope whenever communities prioritise restoration over punishment and care over profit when former prisoners are given dignity and a second chance instead of rejection. When churches act as safe havens for the vulnerable, these moments remind us that God’s Glory is not just something to admire; it is something to live.

The authors of Why Nations Fail talk about critical junctures—moments when nations decide whether to reform their systems or entrench their brokenness. The Bible speaks of these moments too. The Exodus was one such moment. Israel was freed, not just to escape oppression, but to become a new kind of community—a people shaped by justice, mercy, and compassion. Jesus’ ministry was another critical moment. He proclaimed the Kingdom of God, where the last are first, the poor are lifted up, and the broken are restored. These were not just spiritual ideals. They were a call to reimagine systems that reflect God’s ways.

Today, we are at our own critical juncture. Will we continue to build systems that echo the spirit of Babylon, where power and greed dominate? Or will we choose justice, mercy, and compassion as the foundation for how we live, lead, and build together?

The choice begins with us. It’s easy to critique nations or systems, but God’s invitation starts in the small, faithful acts of our own lives. Where do you see injustice in your world? Who in your community has been left behind? Where might mercy soften your heart, and compassion move you to act? The prophets asked, “How are the widows, orphans, and strangers among you?” That question still stands today. Justice is not just for governments. It’s for churches, families, workplaces, and neighborhoods.

As my father often said, “True justice isn’t just about righting wrongs; it’s about lifting people up and giving them the chance to live with dignity.” The church is called to embody this justice, to be a community shaped by mercy and compassion. We are not spectators to broken systems. We are witnesses to God’s Glory—light breaking into darkness. Every time we act with fairness, offer forgiveness, or extend compassion, we push back against the spirit of Babylon and point to the unshakable Kingdom of God.

Nations rise and fall, but God’s call remains: “Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24). Systems built on greed will crumble, but those shaped by justice, mercy, and compassion will endure. This work begins with us. Every act of fairness, every step toward forgiveness, every moment of compassion reflects the weight of God’s Glory into a world desperate for hope. May we choose to carry that weight, one small act at a time.