SOCIETY
Intro: Western societies have grown comfortable assuming that security, prosperity, and peace are the norm. They are not
The stand-off over Greenland has, for now, been defused. Donald Trump has withdrawn his threats of military action and tariffs. There is now an agreed framework for talks. Europeans, including Britons, should be relieved but not reassured. The deal is not done. More turbulence seems certain to lie ahead. The biggest winners in this disruption are not in Washington, let alone Europe, but in Moscow and Beijing.
For weeks, the world has been transfixed as America threatened a NATO ally over an Arctic territory that many struggle to locate on a map. That might have been “Art of the Deal” pressure and not a determination to be the president who acquired a 51st state, but it will have confirmed for Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping that Westen unity is brittle, that transactional pressure works, and even old alliances can be destabilised.
The strategic logic for Trump’s agenda is real. The Arctic is no longer a frozen periphery. Climate change is opening new shipping routes and exposing vast mineral deposits. Russia has militarised its northern coastline with submarine bases, icebreakers, and hypersonic missiles. China, despite having no Arctic territory, has declared itself a near-Arctic state and invested heavily in infrastructure and resources. Greenland sits at the intersection of these ambitions and astride the Golden Dome missile defence coverage.
The Arctic has always mattered to Britian. Our defence posture is northern-oriented, shaped by the Cold War imperative of protecting the Atlantic sea lanes to North America. That has not diminished but intensified as undersea energy and data cables have become critical to the modern economy. Our submarine patrols, maritime patrol aircraft, and our commitment to NATO’s northern flank all reflect this reality. The UK Commando Force will be in Norway shortly for their winter deployment – a tangible reminder that, for Britain, the High North is not a distant theatre but increasingly our strategic front line.
Greenland and Canada now sit on that front line too. Mark Carney’s call at the World Economic Forum in Davos for “middle powers” to collaborate more closely was not abstract multiculturalism but a recognition that the post-Cold War security architecture is fracturing. Countries like Britain, Canada, the Nordic nations, and others must build new coalitions. These will require substance – they need capability, capacity, and credibility.
For decades, we have relied on America’s military dominance to underwrite our security. Notwithstanding our sacrifices for American security in Iraq and Afghanistan, that guarantee can longer be assumed. The United States might be unwilling (isolationist sentiment is rising) or even unable to provide it (for example, were a crisis in the Euro-Atlantic to coincide with one in the Pacific). Shorn of its rhetoric, the Trump administration’s recently published national security strategy reflects priorities that any US administration would recognise: homeland security, the western hemisphere, China and the Middle East before the Euro-Atlantic.
Europe has committed to increasing defence expenditure over the next decade. Away from the eastern front line, those commitments are not yet backed by credible capability plans. Fragmentation is an issue. Europe operates 17 types of main battle tank; America has one. We have 20 different fighter jets; they have six. We have 29 classes of destroyers and frigates; they have four. Every variant means separate supply chains, training regimes, and maintenance.
Integration is not just about efficiency but credibility. An alliance that cannot operate as a coherent force will not deter a determined adversary. Putin has watched European defence debates for years and calculated – correctly so far – that we lack the collective will to match our rhetoric. European NATO must therefore accelerate defence investment, military interoperability, and defence industrial integration. Not as an alternative to NATO, but to reinforce NATO.
Political leaders must educate voters about the world we now inhabit. Western cohesion is brittle. The post-Cold War peace dividend has been spent. The threats are real and growing and the choices are hard: Europe spends 10-times more on welfare than on defence. No modern politician has dared echo John Kennedy’s “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country”. Someone will have to try.
These choices are not just about bigger budgets, they demand a broader reshaping of national resilience: how we protect critical infrastructure, secure supply chains, educate engineers and strategists, and prepare communities for disruption. During the Cold War, civil defence was a shared civic responsibility. We need a modern equivalent – not bunkers and drills but resilient energy systems, domestic manufacturing capacity, cyber literacy, and a citizenry that understands the strategic environment and can respond to crises from floods to hybrid warfare.
This isn’t about sacrifice. It’s about engagement. Higher educational establishments must train the technical talent and conduct the research that underpins resilience. Businesses must rebuild strategic capabilities. Local authorities must prepare for infrastructure disruption. And citizens must understand that security is not something government provides while we go about our lives – it is something we build together.
Darwin saw that it is not the strongest or smartest who survive but the most adaptable. The West has grown comfortable assuming that security, prosperity, and peace are the norm. They are not. They require constant effort. The Greenland episode has been a crisis. It must now become a catalyst. Europe has had its wake-up call.