Late Stage Capitalism, Extinction Bursts, and What Comes Next

Everywhere online, people are declaring that we are living through “late-stage capitalism.” Usually, what they mean is simple: things feel unstable, exploitative, unequal, and increasingly absurd.

They’re not wrong. Societies unstable, business is exploitative, income inequality is bad, and politicians are doing increasingly absurd things.  

But I think many people misunderstand what “late stage capitalism” actually means — especially if we look at capitalism through the lens of Das Kapital and modern behavioral science.

image of a person walking out of a hell scape through a door into a more hopeful future.

Ironically, what we are experiencing may not be the end of capitalism, but rather one of the predictable crisis points in its evolution.

And understanding that matters because panic rarely helps societies evolve wisely.

Marx Wasn’t Predicting Stability

One thing Marx understood correctly is that capitalism is not a stable system. It expands, concentrates wealth, generates inequality, experiences crisis, adapts, and then expands again.

The boom-and-bust cycle is not a bug in the system. It simply is something that is predicted to happen from time to time as capitalist systems grow, evolve and adapt. 

Over time, capital tends to become concentrated. Wealth and power becomes concentrated too because large concentrations of capital can outcompete smaller ones. But eventually that concentration creates instability:

  • consumers lose purchasing power,
  • workers lose security,
  • institutions lose legitimacy,
  • and economic shocks become larger and more widespread.

At that point, correction becomes unavoidable.

Historically, those corrections are painful:

  • unemployment,
  • market collapses,
  • political unrest,
  • social anxiety,
  • institutional distrust.

But history also shows something else: societies often emerge from these crises with reforms that improve life for large numbers of people.

The Great Depression helped produce Social Security, banking reforms, labor protections, and stronger safety nets. The 2008 Financial Crisis triggered major conversations about financial regulation, inequality, healthcare access, and economic precarity.

Progress rarely happens because systems voluntarily surrender power during times of comfort. More often, systems change because instability forces adaptation.

The Extinction Burst

This is where behavioral psychology provides an interesting lens.

In behavioral science, there is something called an extinction burst. When a behavior that used to work stops producing the desired result, the organism often responds by intensifying the behavior before finally changing course.

A child screams louder before giving up a tantrum.
A gambler doubles down after losses.
A toxic workplace becomes more controlling when employees begin resisting.

Systems do this too.

When capitalism encounters instability, it often intensifies its own core behaviors:

  • more extraction,
  • more monetization,
  • more consolidation,
  • more financialization,
  • more pressure for growth,
  • more concentration of wealth.

This can feel terrifying when you’re living through it. And understandably so.

But intensification is not always evidence that a system is permanently winning. Sometimes it is evidence that the system is struggling to maintain equilibrium.

That does not mean collapse is guaranteed.
It does not mean utopia is guaranteed either.

It means we are living through a period of pressure and adaptation.

Is it Really Late Stage Capitalism?

It is worth noting that what many people online call “late-stage capitalism” is not what Das Kapital actually predicts. Marx did not argue that capitalism would simply become miserable and then suddenly collapse. He believed capitalism would continue evolving by increasingly socializing production itself — creating vast interconnected systems where labor becomes more collective, coordinated, and interdependent over time. 

In Marx’s framework, the truly “late” stage would likely involve much broader forms of communal or worker ownership of the means of production than we currently see. Interestingly, we are beginning to see early versions of this emerge through employee-owned companies, cooperatives, profit-sharing models, open-source collaboration, and highly networked forms of collective production. But these models are still relatively limited within a system where ownership remains heavily concentrated with individuals. 

In other words, if Marx’s model is even partially correct, and so far everything he predicted would occur has, we may still have significant instability and painful corrections ahead before a more genuinely communalistic economic structure becomes dominant.

Stay Calm — But Prepare

I suspect another correction is coming.

Not because I think civilization is ending, but because concentrated systems eventually destabilize themselves. Historically, they always have.

The important question is not whether change is coming.

The important question is:
What kind of change will follow?

History shows that crises can produce remarkable human progress:

  • stronger protections for workers,
  • better public health systems,
  • more democratic participation,
  • broader access to education,
  • expanded civil rights,
  • stronger social safety nets.

But crises can also produce fear, scapegoating, authoritarianism, and cruelty.

That is why preparation matters.

Not panic.
Preparation.

We need emotionally resilient people who can think clearly during instability.
We need communities that cooperate instead of fracture.
We need leaders capable of long-term thinking rather than reactive fear.
And we need humanistic values guiding what comes next.

Because economic systems are not forces of nature. They are human creations. They evolve according to the incentives, behaviors, and values we reinforce.

If a correction is coming, then this is not the time to surrender to doomscrolling and despair.

It is the time to ask:

  • What systems actually help people thrive?
  • What structures reduce unnecessary suffering?
  • How do we preserve freedom while increasing stability?
  • How do we ensure technological and economic progress benefits humanity broadly instead of concentrating into fewer and fewer hands?

Those are the real questions of the future.

What Comes Next Is Not Automatic

One of the biggest misunderstandings people have about history is believing that progress is inevitable.

It isn’t.

Progress requires participation.

Every major improvement in human society came from people who chose to build better systems after periods of instability:

  • labor organizers,
  • reformers,
  • educators,
  • scientists,
  • policymakers,
  • community leaders,
  • ordinary people trying to solve practical problems compassionately.

The future is not predetermined.

But history suggests that periods of instability often become turning points. They force societies to reconsider what is sustainable and what is not.

So yes — stay calm.

But prepare.

Because corrections create openings.
And what fills those openings depends on us.

What Comes Next, Matters!

 When crisis hits, most people flail.

That’s not a judgment—it’s a description. It’s human. Something breaks, something shocks us, something changes faster than we can process, and we react. Emotionally. Urgently. Loudly.

But flailing is not planning.

And what comes next depends on whether we stay in reaction…or move into intention.

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, crisis destroys what was—but it also creates the conditions for something new to emerge. The fire doesn’t just consume; it clears away what no longer works. What rises next isn’t accidental—it depends on what we choose to rebuild. If we approach hardship with intention, clarity, and purpose, we don’t just recover—we transform, shaping a stronger, wiser future from what was lost.


The Question That Changes Everything

In any crisis—personal, professional, or societal—the most important question isn’t:

“How bad is this?”

It’s:

“What do we want to come next?”

Because naming the problem, even accurately and passionately, does not create a better future. Saying “this is horrible” may be true. It may even be necessary in the moment.

But it doesn’t move us forward.

At some point, we have to ask:

  • What good could come out of this?
  • What do we want to build from the ashes?
  • What would “better” actually look like?

Without those answers, we’re not responding to crisis—we’re just experiencing it.


Humanism and the Responsibility to Build

From a humanist perspective, there is no external force coming to fix things for us. No cosmic reset button. No guarantee that things will “work out.”

That can feel daunting. But it’s also empowering.

Because it means the future is, in part, ours to shape.

I often come back to a version of the Serenity Prayer:

Have the courage to change the things you can,
the patience to accept the things you can’t,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

The hardest part isn’t courage or patience.

It’s knowing the difference.

That’s why humanists rely on tools like science, logic, and skepticism—to help us accurately assess reality. To figure out where we actually have influence, and where we don’t.

Because here’s the danger: if we assume everything is out of our control, we may accept situations we could have changed. We may surrender agency where action was possible.

Humanism pushes in the opposite direction. It asks us to be thoughtfully optimistic—to assume change is possible, test that assumption, and act where we can.


From Reaction to Intention

Moving from flailing to planning requires one critical shift:

You must have some idea of the future you want.

Not a perfect plan. Not a guaranteed outcome. Just a direction.

Because once you know what you want to come next, you can begin asking better questions:

  • What would make this situation meaningfully better?
  • What specific changes would prevent this from happening again?
  • What systems, structures, or behaviors need to evolve?

This applies at every level of life.


In Society and Politics

If a crisis exposes a systemic failure, then the question becomes: what structural changes would lead to a better outcome next time?

Vague outrage won’t get us there. Concrete ideas might.

For example:

  • If we’re concerned about unchecked executive power, what specific safeguards would reduce that risk?
  • What laws, policies, or even constitutional changes would create better accountability?

Not all ideas will be good ones. Not all will be feasible. But the act of generating tangible, testable proposals is how progress begins.


At Work

When something goes wrong professionally—a failed project, a toxic dynamic, a broken system—the same principle applies.

  • What worked, even a little?
  • What didn’t?
  • What do we want to be different next time?

Crisis can become a catalyst for better processes, clearer communication, and stronger boundaries—if we choose to extract those lessons and act on them.


In Relationships

Conflict, loss, and disruption in relationships are some of the hardest crises we face.

And yet, even here:

  • What kind of relationship do you want going forward?
  • What behaviors need to change—yours or theirs?
  • What boundaries or expectations would create something healthier?

You may not control the other person. But you always have some influence over what you bring into the next chapter.


A Simple Framework for Moving Forward

No matter the situation, you can ground yourself with three questions:

  1. What good do I want to come out of this—for myself?
  2. What good do I want to come out of this—for others?
  3. What good do I want to come out of this—for my community?

(In that order.)

Then ask:

What can I do—right now—to start moving in that direction?

Not someday. Not when things calm down. Not when someone else fixes it.

Now.


Start Where You Have Control

Nothing in life is guaranteed. Even the best plans can fail. That uncertainty is real—and yes, it’s stressful.

But uncertainty doesn’t remove responsibility. It clarifies it.

We don’t control outcomes.
We do influence them.

So when crisis hits:

  • Accept what is real.
  • Decide what you want next.
  • Identify what you can control.
  • Start working toward it.

Because what comes next doesn’t just happen.

It gets built.


Learn More: 


If you want to move from flailing to planning, this is exactly the skill set I teach in Reality Based Decision Making for Effective Strategy Development. The core idea is simple but powerful: you can’t build a better future if you’re not grounded in reality. Instead of reacting emotionally or getting stuck in overwhelm, you learn how to assess what’s actually happening, identify what you can control, and make intentional, strategic choices about what comes next. It’s a practical framework for turning crisis into clarity—so you can stop reacting to events and start shaping outcomes.

Show Up Anyway: What Sumo Can Teach Us About Resilience

I watch a lot of sumo wrestling. One of the things I love most about it isn’t just the strength or the ritual — it’s the raw, visible lesson in resilience.

Every once in a while, a top-ranked wrestler has an absolutely terrible tournament.

Not just “off their game.” Catastrophic by anyone's standards.

I once watched an Ozeki, 2nd highest rank in the sport, win a tournament and then come back the next tournament and lose 13 out of 15 matches. It was horrifying! 

In most professions, that kind of reversal would trigger panic, excuses, or disappearance. But in sumo, there is no hiding. He showed up every day, stepped into the ring, and fought, and lost. Yet, he kept showing up and trying his best. 

That’s resilience in its purest form.

In January 2026 one of my favorite wrestlers, Ura, had a 4–11 tournament. Four wins. Eleven losses. One of his losses was especially cruel since he should have won it. In fact, he did win it. He beat the Yokozuna Onosato. The judges overturned his win by claiming a rule that doesn't exist (dead body rule) and ruled the match was a tie and made them wrestle again. And the 2nd time the Yokozuna won.  

Imagine beating the best wrestler in the world, feeling that victory, and then having it taken away. Publicly. Officially. Final decision.  His comment when asked about it was - I can't be expected to beat a Yokozuna twice in one day. Which is an unusually direct statement of annoyance from a Japanese sumo wrestler. 

And yet, despite how clearly unfair that situation was, he showed up the next day smiling.

Not fake smiling. Grounded smiling. Ready-to-fight-again smiling. In fact, one of the reasons I like him so much, is even when he loses, he laughs it off, and just shakes his head. 

He keeps showing up. He keeps competing. He he loses a lot. But he keeps engaging fully, even when the results aren't going his way. It's one of the reasons he's a fan favorite. 

The Myth of Winning Streaks

We like stories of constant progress and uninterrupted success. They’re clean. They’re inspiring. They’re also rare.

Real performance - whether it is in sports, leadership, activism, inclusion work, and personal growth - looks much messier:

  • Strong seasons and weak seasons

  • Big wins and painful reversals

  • Fair calls and unfair rulings

  • Breakthroughs and plateaus

No one wins every match. Sometimes you don’t just lose — you lose a lot.

The question isn’t whether you’ll hit a bad stretch.

The question is: Will you show up anyway?

Showing Up Is a Skill — Not a Mood

Most people treat showing up as an emotion-based decision:

“I’ll show up when I feel confident.”
“I’ll show up when things are going well.”
“I’ll show up when I’m winning.”

But resilience doesn’t work that way. Showing up is a behavior — and behaviors can be trained.

In behavioral science terms, you don’t wait for motivation. You build the response pattern first. Action comes before confidence more often than the other way around.

Sumo wrestlers don’t get to skip a day because the last match was unfair.
They don’t get to opt out because their record is embarrassing.
They step out onto the clay anyway.

The Discipline of Continuing

There’s a special kind of strength in continuing when:

  • You know the odds aren’t in your favor

  • You feel discouraged

  • The last outcome was unfair

  • Your record looks bad

  • Others are counting you out

Continuing builds identity. It says: I am someone who engages, regardless of outcome.

That identity matters more than any single result.

The Quiet Power of Composure

What struck me most in these losing tournaments wasn’t just participation — it was composure.

No public meltdown.
No visible bitterness.
No withdrawal.

Just steady presence.

That doesn’t mean there’s no disappointment. It means disappointment isn’t in charge.

That’s emotional self-management in action — the same skill set that helps leaders navigate crisis, helps targets of bullying avoid escalation traps, and helps change-makers keep going when resistance shows up.

The Lesson

You will have seasons where things don’t go your way.

You will have stretches where you lose more than you win.
You will experience unfair calls.
You will feel the sting of reversals.

Show up anyway.

Step into the ring.
Do the work.
Engage the moment.
Keep your composure.
Return tomorrow.

Because resilience isn’t built in the victories.

It’s built in the days you show up while losing.

Leadership Takeaway: Show Up Anyway

Resilient leaders don’t wait to feel confident before they act — they learn how to regulate their emotions so they can stay engaged, steady, and effective even during setbacks. Showing up is a trained response, not a personality trait.

If you want a practical, behavioral-science approach to emotional self-management, response control, and conflict resilience, start here:

📘 Learn more: Mastering the 5 Managerial Superpowers
Learn how to control your emotional responses, interrupt escalation cycles, and stay constructive under pressure — so you can show up anyway, especially when it’s hardest.

Core skills: self-awareness • emotional regulation • strategic responding • conflict resilience • anti-bullying communication

The Other Emotion That Comes With Crisis: Annoyance

 I was having a great day.

I’d just been trained on a new animal at the zoo—a box turtle named Max. I was looking forward to getting real work done. I was looking forward to knitting a sleeve for a sweater I’m making.

And I did none of that.

Because a crisis showed up and took my entire afternoon—and now, several of the days ahead.

That’s how crisis often works. It doesn’t just scare us. It steals time. It interrupts momentum. It rearranges priorities without asking permission.


Once the immediate danger passed and I knew everyone was okay, the dominant emotion I felt wasn’t fear or sadness.

It was annoyance.

Annoyance Is Part of Crisis Too

I was annoyed that my day had been derailed.
Annoyed that this was going to cost us money.
Annoyed that the next two weeks of my life are now full of logistics, paperwork, and follow-ups instead of the things I had planned.

My real work—once again—has been delayed.
My hobbies. My fun. My focus.

All of it displaced by something I didn’t choose.

That emotion surprised me at first, but it shouldn’t have. Annoyance is a completely normal response to crisis, even though we rarely acknowledge it.

Multiple Things Can Be True

We tend to rank emotions during emergencies. Gratitude is acceptable. Fear is understandable. Relief is expected.

Annoyance feels… inappropriate.

But multiple things can be true at the same time.

You can be grateful that things weren’t worse and frustrated that your life has been disrupted. You can feel compassion for everyone involved and resent the practical consequences that now belong to you.

Annoyance isn’t a moral failure. It’s a reaction to lost time, lost control, and lost momentum.

The real risk isn’t feeling it. The risk is getting stuck in the idea that this isn’t fair.

The Trap of “This Isn’t Fair”

“This isn’t fair” is an understandable thought—and a useless one.

Crises don’t arrive on schedule. Accidents don’t check your calendar. Illness doesn’t care about your plans. Life doesn’t distribute inconvenience evenly.

From a Humanist perspective, this isn’t personal. It’s not punishment. It’s not meaningfully unfair.

It’s just reality doing what reality does.

Once I accept that, I can stop arguing with what happened and shift back into motion:

This happened.
I don’t like it.
Now what needs to be done?

That shift—from grievance to action—is what keeps annoyance from turning into resentment.

What This Looks Like at Work

This same emotional pattern shows up in the workplace all the time.

An employee’s partner gets sick. A child has a crisis. Someone’s mental health collapses. A sudden emergency pulls them away—and now your carefully planned week as a leader is disrupted too.

Deadlines slip. Projects stall. Your own work gets pushed aside.

It’s okay to feel annoyed about that.

Good leadership doesn’t require pretending those feelings don’t exist. It requires not letting them drive your response.

Strong leaders give people grace not because it’s convenient, but because it’s realistic. Every one of us will eventually be the person whose life explodes at the worst possible moment.

Designing for the Inevitable

If there’s any practical takeaway here, it’s this: systems should assume disruption will happen.

Not because people are unreliable—but because life is.

That means:

  • Building slack into timelines

  • Avoiding single points of failure

  • Cross-training instead of hoarding knowledge

  • Creating cultures where asking for help isn’t punished

This isn’t indulgence. It’s resilience.

Organizations—and leaders—that plan for uninterrupted productivity are fragile by design. Don't be fragile by design! 

Accept, Adjust, Continue

I don’t think annoyance needs to be fixed or reframed into gratitude. It just needs to be acknowledged and then set aside.

Accept that crisis will steal time.
Adjust what can be adjusted.
Continue doing the next solvable thing.

That’s how we stay human in the middle of disruption—without letting disruption take more than it already has.

Crisis is a VUCA moment—volatile, uncertain, complex, and ambiguous. Good leaders don’t eliminate those conditions; they help people function within them by grounding teams in reality and focusing on what can be done next.

Leadership Takeaway

Crises don’t just create fear—they create disruption, frustration, and lost momentum. Strong leaders don’t deny those emotions. They acknowledge them and help teams refocus on what can be solved next.

Reality-based leadership means:

  • Giving people grace when life intrudes

  • Designing systems that expect disruption

  • Helping teams move from “this isn’t fair” to “what’s the next actionable step?”

These skills—emotional regulation, realistic problem-solving, and strategic response—are core themes in my book and course, Mastering the Five Managerial Superpowers, which focuses on leading humans as they actually are, not as we wish they’d be.

Related Reading

If you’re interested in how a Humanist, reality-based mindset helps people cope with crisis itself—not just manage its fallout—you may also want to read:
When Crisis Hits: A Humanist Way of Coping

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