Rebirth can be learned /16 - In success stories, it is important to know when to take a step back
by Luigino Bruni
published in Città Nuova on 05/06/2026 - From the magazine Città Nuova no. 12/2024
History knows a profound law of evolution and decline of peoples, communities, and individuals. It is a law that is both terrible for rulers and providential for communities, because from decline and crisis a new springtime can arise, humble and more authentic. At its heart is the management of that typical feeling that took hold of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, in his garden, as recounted in the Bible in the Book of Daniel: “As the king walked on the roof of the royal palace in Babylon, he said, ‘Is this not the great Babylon that I have built as my royal residence by the power of my might and for the glory of my majesty?’” (Daniel 4:26-27). At that moment, the king began to think that he was the cause of his kingdom's greatness.
This dominant thought of Nebuchadnezzar is extremely important because it reveals phenomena that are very common in human communities, especially those that are experiencing or have experienced great success. When the life of a community or even a business grows and develops greatly, it is easy for the thought of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar to arise one day. At first, that is, in the early stages of growth and success, the most honest and spiritual founders manage to think that they are only instruments, “pencils” in the hands of Someone else who is the true author of the great success. They are sincere, they do not pretend. But, almost always, another day comes when the triumphs become so astonishing that they convince the “kings” that, after all, without them, the whole empire would not have existed, and they begin to feel like the masters of their “kingdom.”
The collective stories that have been able to last beyond the first season of success are the very rare ones that have avoided this sort of ‘curse of abundance’ (because it is abundance, wealth, that becomes the biggest problem). They subverted themselves before cultivating and consuming their success. If, on the other hand, self-subversion is lacking, the moment that seductive thought of Nebuchadnezzar takes hold of the mind and heart, the crisis of the community begins. They begin to die because the great past devours the present and the future. The Bible knows this very well; in fact, the previous passage continues as follows: “While the words were still in the king's mouth, a voice came from heaven: ‘I am speaking to you, King Nebuchadnezzar: your kingdom has been taken from you!’” (Daniel 4:28).
Pride in the great empire spreads like a virus among everyone, reinforces itself in private and public conversations, and becomes unbreakable. It is a kind of autoimmune disease, because it does not come from outside but from within the social body. The few critical voices are silenced or self-silent, because they are perceived as discordant and as black spots in a picture that speaks only of positivity and greatness. The few stories of great success that manage not to be defeated by their own success are those where the protagonists are able to cure this syndrome of over-success when it is still in its infancy. They stop before reaching the critical threshold, that is, before reaching the peak of success, they intentionally return to being poor and small, dismantle their palaces, and start walking naked again as they did on the first day. They stop before they become too big, too confident, and too rich to be able to do so. They dismantle their temples and castles and return to building mobile tents: the poor Aramaic of the early days resumes his wandering journey.
How can we know when to stop? It is not easy. Those in charge need people around them who are not just sycophants or subjects, but true friends and companions who sense that Nebuchadnezzar's curse is about to strike, tell the leaders, and perhaps they will listen. However, if the decline cannot be stopped, even the collapse of an empire can herald a new season in the life of a community, if people can see a blessing in what appears to be only defeat; if they can understand that the time of poverty, humility, and smallness is only the beginning of a time that is more human and more real than that of past successes and greatness. These insights are gifts, they are graces, they cannot be planned: they can only happen. But the time of true prayer can begin, discovering a better future in what seems worst, a blessing in smallness, salvation in pain. And in times of thirst, sing the psalm of the deer.