The Future of American Fascism

I occasionally gab about the world with friends and family. Recently, a friend and I were bitching about the rise of "fascism" in America. We soon realized we had different visions of what that meant. About what's possible in a country like America.

America spans about 3.8 million square miles, with many different climates, economies, and ways of life. America's size and spread-out population shape its politics in important ways. The country's large area makes local issues and regional differences central to political life. This encourages local and state governments to respond to their own regions rather than to a unified national agenda. People in California often prioritize different things than people in Alabama or North Dakota. These differences make it hard to find national agreement, leading to gridlock or unsatisfying compromises.

My friend and I brainstormed what the country's unique characteristics could mean for the rise of fascism in America. We took notes and turned it into the following Q&A:

Why does America's size prevent popular uprisings and protests like seen in France and the UK?

France and the UK, while politically complex, are geographically smaller and more densely populated than the United States. This density makes it easier to organize large-scale protests or strikes that disrupt daily life and demand attention. In the U.S., long distances between major population centers, combined with state-by-state policy differences and local enforcement, make it harder to build unified movements. A protest in New York may feel completely disconnected from events in Texas or Oregon.

In addition, national media in the U.S. is fragmented, and local media dominates in many areas, which further splinters public awareness. This limits the ability of a single event or issue to spark a truly nationwide movement in the way it can in more compact and media-unified countries like France or the UK.

Why did the Civil War happen if uprising is so difficult?

The Civil War was exception. Southern states were united by one clear and urgent issue: the preservation of slavery. This issue wasn’t just political or moral. It was deeply tied to their economies, social structures, and identities. Having a single, overriding concern gave the Southern states a strong reason to act collectively. They saw the end of slavery as a direct economic threat, which made secession and war appear to them as rational steps.

Today’s political climate is deeply divided, but it lacks that same unifying issue on either side. Instead of one dominant concern, the country faces a wide range of cultural, economic, and ideological disagreements. Political polarization is real, but it’s scattered across many topics. Immigration, education, public health, guns, and more. These divisions often split not just regions but households and communities. That makes it harder to form large, coordinated blocs of action, whether for rebellion or reform. Unlike in the Civil War era, no single issue today binds one half of the country tightly enough to provoke a unified uprising.

Why have other large countries faced major civil conflict while the U.S. hasn't?

Countries like Russia, the Soviet Union, and China have experienced serious internal conflicts, often because their governments were highly centralized. In Russia, central control after World War I led to a civil war and later regional uprisings. In the Soviet Union, tight control over diverse regions eventually caused unrest and collapse. In China, heavy-handed central rule has led to unrest in areas like Tibet and Xinjiang.

America has avoided this largely because of its decentralized structure. State and local governments have real power. Elections and courts give people ways to push back without turning to violence. This setup reduces the risk of civil conflict, even when tensions run high.

Still, decentralization has downsides. While it protects against sudden takeovers, it can let democratic norms fade slowly. Problems can grow in pockets, through local laws, policies, or political behavior, without triggering a broader response.

Given America's decentralized nature of governance and broadly distributed population, is it possible we are currently sliding into authoritarianism?

Yes. I think it is already happening. Because power is spread out, no single moment feels like a breaking point. But we’re seeing steady shifts: voter suppression, political disinformation, legal decisions that weaken oversight, and increasing executive power. These changes are happening in ways that don’t always spark national outrage, especially when they’re unevenly distributed across states. The real question isn’t whether the slide is happening, it’s how far it will go and how quickly. Without a shared national response, there’s little friction slowing it down.

What could authoritarianism or fascism look like in America?

In the U.S., authoritarianism might not involve tanks in the streets or the sudden loss of elections. It would look more like gradual shifts. Media manipulation, reduced transparency, weakened courts, and fewer checks on political leaders.

What mitigates the risk of military force or overt police control from dominating public life is partly the country’s decentralized system. Local and state governments can resist federal overreach, and courts still offer legal recourse, at least in theory.

But recent trends show there are limits to this counterforce. Agencies like ICE have received massive funding and have operated detention centers that resemble prison camps. There have also been documented incidents of people being detained or removed from protests without clear legal process. These actions don’t match traditional images of authoritarian regimes, but they carry some of the same dynamics: fear, lack of accountability, and concentration of power.

Because Americans are spread out and not easily unified, there’s less chance of a large, sustained public response. That fragmentation may be allowing a quiet centralization of power. Instead of shock tactics, U.S. authoritarianism might grow through public complacency, limited accountability, and the slow normalization of actions that would once have been widely rejected.

What might life look like for the average person in 2028, if this slide continues?

If the current trends continue, by 2028 life for the average American could feel more restricted and uncertain. People might still vote, but with fewer options and less confidence that their votes matter. Courts may become less independent, and some laws could feel more politically targeted than neutral. Media might be more polarized and less trusted, making it harder to know what’s true.

Day-to-day, government agencies might operate with more politically-aligned discretion. Surveillance could increase under the banner of security or public order. Protest activity could be met more quickly with legal or physical suppression. For many, especially those in marginalized communities, interactions with institutions might feel more arbitrary or intimidating.

At the same time, these changes might not feel dramatic. They could come gradually, normalized by distraction or fatigue. Some people might not feel any major shift. While others, depending on where they live or who they are, might feel that the country has changed in ways that are hard to reverse.

Prior to the widening of civil rights throughout the 20th century, was America in some respects authoritarian?

In some ways, yes. For much of its history, many Americans were denied basic rights. Even after the end of slavery, black Americans lived under laws that blocked them from voting, moving freely, or using public services. These rules were enforced by both formal institutions and informal violence, creating a kind of local authoritarian rule within a country that otherwise claimed to be democratic. Women, Indigenous people, and others were also excluded from full participation in public life, lacking political power and legal protection.

America might be returning to a version of this past, though with new tools and under different justifications. 21st century authoritarianism doesn't have to involve openly racist laws or highly visible purges, instead relying on bureaucracy, surveillance, and selective enforcement. In this sense, the system can suppress rights in ways that feel more procedural than brutal, though the end result may be similar: certain groups living with less freedom, less power, and more fear.

While past authoritarian tendencies were often targeted and local, such as Jim Crow or McCarthy-era blacklisting, today's trends are more national in scope and diffuse in execution. The big difference is that it's happening during a time of partisan media, influencial social media, deep digital tracking, highly polarized politics, and increasingly centralized federal power, which may allow it to scale more quietly and pervasively than before. Now AI is making all this easier.

Many compare America today to the rise of the 3rd Reich, implying the future includes mass murder of undesirables.

The comparison to the rise of the 3rd Reich can sound alarmist, but it reflects real potential for where unchecked power might lead. In America, what makes something like this possible is the slow erosion of legal norms, the growing use of surveillance, the normalization of detention without trial, and the dehumanization of certain groups through political and media narratives. These patterns echo the early conditions that allowed atrocities in other regimes.

The use of massive detention facilities for immigrants, the criminalization of homelessness, and the growing tolerance for political violence all signal how power might be turned against 'undesirable' groups. Once certain populations are seen as outside the protection of the law, anything becomes possible. The machinery (logistics, technology, law enforcement infrastructure) is already in place.

What stops it from happening, at least for now, is a mix of institutional resistance, media scrutiny, and public inertia. But those guardrails are eroding. Courts are becoming more partisan. Media is fragmented. And the public, overwhelmed or polarized, often fails to recognize slow-moving dangers.

The biggest check may be whether enough people in key positions still feel bound by democratic norms, and whether the rest of us are willing to notice when those norms are abandoned.