The green jobs, the gay parades, the jihadist welfare queens, the Greek public sector unions, all have to be paid for by a shrinking base of contributing workers whose children and grandchildren will lead poorer and meaner lives because of the fecklessness of government. The social compact of the postwar era cannot hold. Across the developed world, a beleaguered middle class is beginning to understand that it's no longer that rich. At some point, it will look at the sheer waste of government spending, the other shoe will drop, and it will decide that it no longer wishes to be that stupid.

I'm a child of the British Empire and, back in my kindergarten days, almost all the stories we were taught about kings went more or less the same way. Generations of English children learned of Alfred the Great, King of Wessex back in the 9th century. Another A-list big shot: Winston Churchill called him "the greatest Englishman that ever lived." One day, during a tumultuous time in the affairs of his kingdom, he passed a remote cottage and called in on the local peasant woman to rest a while. Unaware of who he was, she went off to milk the cow and told him to mind the cakes she'd left on the hearth. He was a big-picture guy preoccupied with geopolitical macro-trends, and he absentmindedly let the cakes burn. She took him to task ("You're happy to eat the cakes but too lazy to keep an eye on them") but, upon realizing he was the king, begged a thousand pardons. "No, no," he said. "Entirely my fault." And there in the rude hovel he humbly turned the woman's loaves for her.

In the age of kings, we were taught that kings were human, with human failings. Now, in the age of citizen-presidents, we are taught that government has unlimited powers over "heaven, earth and sea." Unlike Canute and Alfred, the vanity of Big Government knows no bounds. Tim Flannery, the Aussie global warm-monger who chaired the Copenhagen climate circus a few months back, announces with a straight face that "we're trying to act as a species to regulate the atmosphere." Never mind anything so footling as the incoming tides, but the very atmosphere! How do you do that? Well, first, take one extremely large check. Next, add several extra zeroes to it. Then, toss it out the window. "He whom heaven, earth and sea obey by eternal laws"? Hah! That's chickenfeed compared to the way things are gonna be once heaven, earth and sea are forced to submit to a transnational microregulatory regime.

Almost every problem we face today arises from the vanity of Big Government. Why has BP got oil wells 5,000 feet underwater in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico? Because government regulated them off-land, off-coast and ever deeper into the briny. True, BP went along. Its initials stand for "British Petroleum." You may not be aware of that if you've seen any of their commercials in recent years: "BP -- Beyond Petroleum." They were an oil company ashamed of their product, and advertising only how anxious they were to get with the environmental program. And a fat lot of good that did them. BP, not to mention its customers, would have been better to push back against government policies that drive energy suppliers into ever more unpredictable terrain in order to protect the Alaskan breeding grounds of the world's largest mosquito herd. Instead, we'll do the opposite. There'll be even more government protection of "the environment," and even more government regulation of the oil industry, and BP will be drilling for oil in that Icelandic volcano.

It's the same in Europe . Greece's problem isn't so very difficult to diagnose. Like many Western nations, its government has spent tomorrow today. As in New York and California, public-sector unions have looted the future. This is the entirely foreseeable consequence of government policy.

So what's the solution? The international bailout (including a hefty contribution by U.S. taxpayers) is a massive subsidy to the Greeks to carry on doing all the stuff that's got 'em into their present mess. The European motive for doing this is to "save the Euro" -- a currency whose very existence is a monument to the unbounded narcissism of government. The Euro notes are decorated by scenic views of handsome Renaissance, Gothic and classical edifices -- just like the White House on U.S. currency. The only difference is that the European buildings do not exist in what we used to call the real world. They're entirely fictional. That's Big Government: Even if you don't build it, they'll still come. If you invent a currency for a united Europe, a united Europe is sure to follow.

The princelings of the new ruling class rarely have to live with the consequences of their narcissism. Nancy Pelosi can monkey with your health care, but hers will still be grand. Greek bureaucrats can regulate your business into the ground, but they'll still have their pensions and benefits. And, when the cakes are burning to a crisp, King Barack the Verbose won't be in the peasant hovel with you but off giving a critically acclaimed speech about how the world works best when we all get an equal slice of the pie.