The Vacuum

Written on 7 April 2025.

The Vacuum: A Disrupted World in Transition

The Vanishing Middle

In the current geopolitical climate, the idea of a "vacuum" has taken center stage in discussions of global trade and power dynamics. As tariffs return and long-standing globalist systems falter, the question arises: what fills the gap? This vacuum, created by intentional disruption of global supply chains and trade agreements, is celebrated by some as liberation but seen by others as a void with no guarantee of renewal.

Alex Jones, during his April 6th, 2025 broadcast, framed this shift as a triumph of American populism over globalist tyranny. He championed Trump's new tariffs and economic policies as a decisive blow against the "New World Order," applauding the collapse of globalism and portraying Trump as the architect of a new American-led order. According to Jones, over fifty countries have approached the United States to strike zero-tariff bilateral deals, validating the strategy.

But viewed from outside the U.S., particularly from nations like Sweden, the perspective shifts. Factories like Volvo or SSAB do not exist as abstract globalist evils; they are local employers, community builders, and critical players in national economies. If American tariffs reduce Swedish steel or car exports, this is not an attack on the global elite—it is an economic hit to real people. This is where the vacuum becomes tangible.

While Jones sees tariffs as a weapon to dismantle a corrupt elite, for trading nations they function more like a blockade. The hope is that the United States will rapidly build up its own domestic production to fill the space left by foreign imports. But this process takes time. Industrial infrastructure cannot be reconstituted overnight. Training workers, building plants, securing supply chains—these are multi-year projects.

So what happens in the meantime? Prices rise. Markets shake. Global partners are sidelined. Jobs are lost.

In theory, this vacuum should become fertile ground for innovation and sovereign renewal. In practice, without a coordinated plan or international cooperation, it risks becoming a black hole that destabilizes entire sectors.

Jones rightly points out that many foreign nations have offered to remove tariffs in kind. A zero-tariff global reset—if honest and mutual—could be beneficial. But that is not guaranteed. The reality is still murky, and American populist strategy does not always include assurances for allies. For non-U.S. citizens, this American-first approach often looks like unilateral self-interest masked as revolution.

As the U.S. attempts to unhook itself from the globalist machine, the rest of the world is left watching, wondering, and recalibrating. The vacuum is real. Whether it becomes a space for something better or a void of missed opportunity depends on what—and who—fills it.

A Future Without Faith

Growing up in the 1970s, there was still faith in the future. The culture held deep respect for industriousness, entrepreneurship, and economic independence. It was not uncommon for young people to move out, get a job, and live simply yet proudly. Even in popular culture, like The Terminator (1984), Sarah Connor is depicted living independently with a roommate, working a regular job despite not being perfect. That was normal.

This mindset had roots in earlier times, like the 1930s in Sweden, when people left their rural lives to work in factories—shoe factories, textile mills, steel plants. That was industrialization with hope. Developing nations were expected to become like the industrialized ones. Countries like Sweden were the role models, the civilized standard, the beacon of advancement.

But then came a shift. Around the time of the 1992 Earth Summit and Agenda 21, the United Nations began reshaping global ideology through ideas of sustainability, climate change, and global governance. Even fringe ideas like the Mayan calendar revival were strategically pushed through think tanks like the Club of Budapest. Global warming became a quasi-religion, globalization a mandate.

By the 2000s, the tech boom replaced faith in industrial growth with belief in IT. But IT doesn't need workers. As systems automate, fewer people are needed. Artificial Intelligence accelerates this trend, making even doctors and social workers obsolete. Sustainability, once seen as environmental stewardship, became the philosophy of a post-industrial, post-human economy.

COVID-19 marked a global compliance moment. All 150+ UN member nations moved in lockstep. Lockdowns accelerated the shift. What once was a society of working, self-sustaining people turned into a managed population under medical, psychological, and economic regulation.

Now we see new actors like Elon Musk and Donald Trump shaping the transition. Though not part of the UN, they represent another wing of the elite. Musk's products—electric vehicles, satellite internet, neural interfaces—are not randomly chosen. They are precise tools of post-industrial centralization. EVs, for instance, cannot coexist with private car ownership at scale. They demand fewer cars, tighter grids, more control.

Tariffs, then, may appear to oppose globalization, but they are a mechanism of reorientation rather than reversal. They serve to rearrange rather than dismantle the system. The future they create is not the hopeful future of the 1930s or 1970s. It is the future of sustainability dogma, government dependency, and automation.

This is not progress. This is the death of society as we once knew it. And for those who believe the Bible, especially the King James Version, it fits the pattern of the Great Tribulation—a period not of renewal but of collapse, deception, and judgment.

The False Promise of Reindustrialization

Some believe that tariffs and economic nationalism will revive the golden age of American manufacturing—that skilled workers will once again craft goods with pride, and local economies will flourish. But this belief overlooks the underlying structure of the system that now governs economic decisions. The reality is that automation, not human labor, is set to fill the vacuum.

Corporations are not preparing to hire armies of skilled workers. They are preparing to eliminate them entirely. With the rapid development of humanoid robots and AI, the cost of automation is dropping below that of human labor—and machines do not protest, unionize, or fall ill.

What is emerging is not a revival, but a managed descent:

• Robot-run factories replacing human workers
• Mass unemployment, especially among those without technical credentials
• Universal Basic Income (UBI) used not as support, but as a tool of control
• Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs) to distribute and regulate that income
• Biological compliance mechanisms—including mandatory injections—as conditions for receiving it

This is not science fiction. It is already unfolding. The lockdowns and pandemic measures of recent years were a stress test for obedience. Compliance was rewarded. Dissent was punished. The same structure will be reused.

And despite popular narratives, the system has not changed. The same global architecture remains intact. Those hoping that figures like Trump or Musk will dismantle this system may soon discover that they are only managing a different phase of it.

The path forward is not through blind hope in political change but through deliberate separation. Independence must be rebuilt from the ground up—through land, skill, knowledge, and faith. Food, energy, communication, and personal health must be reclaimed by individuals who understand that they cannot negotiate with a system designed to enslave.

Above all, those who see what is coming must remain spiritually vigilant. The tribulation does not arrive all at once. It builds quietly, through compliance, compromise, and convenience—until nothing is left but control. In such a time, survival is not only physical. It is spiritual.