Just days ago, with his approval ratings at a term-low 36% and the 2026 midterms looming, President Trump made a startling proposal: eliminate the Senate filibuster. “The filibuster is hurting the Republican Party,” he declared, arguing that its removal would prevent government shutdowns and allow his party to “do everything we want.”
It’s a tempting proposition for any party in power. The filibuster, a procedural hurdle that allows a minority of senators to block legislation, is a source of endless frustration. It’s the institutional grit in the gears of power, a check on the majority’s ambitions. To a leader facing a ticking clock and a restless base, it looks like an obstacle to be removed, a relic to be discarded in the name of efficiency.
But 2,246 years ago, another leader made the same calculation. He, too, was a unifier, a man who ended an era of chaos and promised a new age of stability. He, too, grew impatient with the checks on his power. And in his quest for absolute control, he forged an empire that would last 10,000 generations—or so he thought. His name was Qin Shi Huang, the First Emperor of China, and his story is a chilling warning about the seductive, and ultimately self-destructive, allure of absolute power.
The Man Who Burned the Books and Built the Wall
Before Qin Shi Huang, China was a fractured land of warring states, a century-long bloodbath of shifting alliances and endless conflict. In 221 BC, the state of Qin, under its ruthless and brilliant king, Ying Zheng, conquered them all. He unified China for the first time in its history and, casting aside the old title of “king,” declared himself “Huangdi”—Emperor.
His goal was to create an empire that would never again splinter. To do this, he and his chief minister, Li Si, enacted a series of radical reforms. They abolished the old feudal system, where regional lords held hereditary power and acted as a check on the central government. In its place, they created a rigid, centralized bureaucracy, with all officials appointed by, and loyal to, the emperor alone. They standardized everything from currency and weights to the width of cart axles. They built a massive network of roads and, most famously, connected a series of defensive walls into the first Great Wall of China.
At the heart of this new system was the philosophy of Legalism. It was a worldview that saw human nature as inherently selfish and believed that the only way to maintain order was through absolute, unquestioning obedience to the law—and the emperor was the law. There were no checks, no balances, no room for dissent. To question the emperor was to question the stability of the empire itself.
This philosophy reached its terrifying conclusion in 213 BC. At a royal banquet, a scholar praised the old ways, suggesting the emperor should learn from the past. Li Si’s response was swift and brutal. He argued that to allow scholars to debate the merits of the past was to undermine the authority of the present. The emperor agreed. He ordered the burning of all historical records and philosophical texts, save for those on medicine, agriculture, and prophecy. Hundreds of scholars who defied the order were executed.
The Brittle Empire
On the surface, the emperor’s consolidation of power was a stunning success. He had ended the Warring States period, unified a vast and fractious land, and built monuments that would last for millennia. He had, in his own words, created an empire that would endure for “10,000 generations.”
He was wrong. The empire lasted for just 15 years.
In 210 BC, Qin Shi Huang died. The empire he had built, so dependent on his personal authority, so lacking in any institutional shock absorbers, immediately began to crumble. His chief eunuch and his prime minister, the same Li Si who had engineered the book burning, forged the emperor’s will, forcing the rightful heir to commit suicide and installing a puppet on the throne. The brutal laws and heavy taxes that had been enforced by the emperor’s iron will now sparked open rebellion. Within four years, the Qin dynasty was extinguished, and China was once again plunged into civil war.
The Lesson for Today
The irony is that the very thing Qin Shi Huang did to secure his empire—the removal of all institutional checks on his power—is what made it so brittle. By abolishing the feudal lords, he removed a class of stakeholders who, for all their squabbling, had a vested interest in the stability of their regions. By burning the books and killing the scholars, he destroyed the very intellectual and historical traditions that could have provided guidance and legitimacy. By centralizing all power in himself, he created a system that was entirely dependent on a single point of failure.
This is the 2,200-year-old lesson for America in 2025. The Senate filibuster is messy. It’s frustrating. It’s often used for purely partisan reasons. But it is also an institutional check on the power of the majority. It forces compromise. It encourages moderation. It ensures that the party in power cannot simply “do everything we want,” as President Trump put it.
To remove it, especially at a time of deep political division and with a leader whose popular support is shaky, is to make the same gamble as the First Emperor. It is to trade long-term stability for short-term efficiency. It is to assume that your party will always be in power, and that your opponents, when they inevitably regain it, will not use that same unchecked power against you.
When a leader, facing declining popularity and a ticking clock, begins to talk about removing the institutional guardrails, it is a sign of desperation, not strength. It is a confession that their agenda cannot win on its own merits, but must be forced through by a raw exercise of power. It is a path that has been walked many times in history, and it rarely ends well.
What You Can Do About It
History teaches us that institutions are fragile, and that the promises of politicians are fleeting. The only true security is self-reliance. As we watch our leaders debate the merits of dismantling the very structures that are meant to protect us, it is more important than ever to build our own personal fortresses of resilience.
Here are five things you can do right now to protect yourself and your family from the inevitable fallout of institutional decay:
- Secure Your Food Supply. The most basic foundation of self-reliance is knowing where your next meal is coming from. The 4ft Farm Blueprint is a revolutionary system that shows you how to grow your own food in a tiny, four-foot-square space. It’s the ultimate insurance policy against supply chain collapse and food inflation.
- Learn Essential Skills. In a crisis, practical skills are worth more than gold. Homesteader Depot is your one-stop shop for learning the skills our ancestors knew by heart, from canning and preserving to basic first aid and off-grid energy.
- Stay Informed. The mainstream media will not tell you the full story. The Self-Reliance Report provides daily intelligence and analysis that cuts through the noise and tells you what you really need to know to stay ahead of the curve.
- Build a Resilient Household. Your home should be a sanctuary, not a point of vulnerability. Survival Stronghold offers expert advice on everything from home security and water purification to creating a family emergency plan.
- Take Control of Your Health. Our healthcare system is broken, and it’s only going to get worse. Seven Holistics is your guide to natural, time-tested remedies and health strategies that can help you break free from dependence on a failing system.
Don’t wait for the walls of our institutions to crumble. The time to prepare is now. The First Emperor thought his empire was eternal. It lasted 15 years. Learn from his mistake. Build your own dynasty, one that will last for generations to come.
