It seems like the world is always on the brink of something, and that feeling isn’t just in your head. Global security is more volatile and tense than it has been at any time since the Second World War. There are now estimated to be more than fifty ongoing conflicts on earth, with around a hundred nations participating in war abroad—a record since peacekeeping data began tracking this trend. The economic burden of war has increased to $19.1 trillion, over 13 percent of world GDP, and battle fatalities in 2023 had risen to 162,000, with the biggest contributors being Ukraine and Gaza. The consequences are greater than ever, and leaders’ choices are historic.
History is context and warning. The United States has experienced periods of intense worldwide tension in the past—during the late 1930s and early 1940s, and again during the early Cold War, 1948-1962. Both instances were marked by rapid recalculations, crisis at a moment’s notice, and the mercurial behavior of great leaders.
Now the scenario is more complex, with multiple rival powers operating freely or in tandem, creating fresh layers of danger that did not exist previously. Historian Philip Zelikow notes that, unlike previous anti-American coalitions, the present anti-American coalition of revisionist states is extremely cohesive. Alliances today extend into defense-industrial cooperation, whereby each state props up the others’ weaknesses in a manner that multiplies their collective weight.
At the heart of this new dynamic is a shared dissatisfaction with the current world order. They see American-dominated institutions as limiting their ambitions and blocking their way to enjoying their rightful status in global affairs. There is limited trust between them, but their shared grievances have bred a level of coordination that has not existed before. Leaders are framing their strategy on the basis of long-term national competition, mobilizing resources and people in anticipation of extended periods of competition and conflict.
Strategic decisions are emerging rapidly, and the consequences may be profound. The war in Ukraine, for example, may shape world history for decades. Zelikow warns that the coming years may witness some of the most dangerous circumstances the world has faced in decades, with a non-trivial possibility of increased war. Unlike the frontal battles of the past, these war-like circumstances can develop in forms necessitating the United States to respond to moves jeopardizing its interests or its allies, leaving Washington responsible for escalation. In every way, this is true to the tense geometries of the Berlin crisis of the late 1950s and early 1960s.
At the same time, the limits of U.S. power are becoming apparent. Calls for dramatic military expansion and world intervention are met with political resistance at home, and even well-funded plans would take years to materialize—time the current situation does not allow. The defense-industrial base is stretched to the limit, while the opponents view themselves as hardened, tempered, and better qualified to survive long-term hardship than comfort-fed, consumption-addicted societies.
Alliances are also strained. In Japan, the U.S.-Japan security alliance has lost trust, partly due to seeing global wars and American hesitation and doubts. Most citizens are more worried about being dragged into a war between the U.S. and other countries than about abandonment. The reluctance to expand Japanese military contributions is an extension of a general wariness of involvement, even as threats converge.
Among Europeans, the United States’ public opinion has turned cool. Developments in Donald Trump’s second term—multilateral institution policy withdrawals, tariffs, and perceptions of wavering in support of Ukraine—have eroded trust. More and more, many Europeans believe they should now depend on their own power for defense, setting themselves up for a day when American leadership can no longer be assumed. The push for economic and military independence is a pragmatic response to a world where historic allies can no longer always be trusted.
Economic considerations cloud the issue as well. Geopolitical disturbances propagate like pond ripples, having the tendency to damage local populations most of all. Steps like freezing reserves or applying sanctions can have reflexive effects in financial activity, ranging from central banks seeking to buy gold to broader concerns about currency stability. Even relatively minor disputes can be capable of halting trade and supply chains on a scale not seen since the Great Depression, harming everything from commodities to consumer goods.
Concurrently, human rights and international norms add a threat. UN officials warn civic space is shutting down, autocratic forces are on the rise, and fundamental rights are under attack in regions around the world. Conflicts do not have to slide into escalating violence and bloodshed; dialogue, negotiation, and reaffirmed commitment to accountability are the most viable paths to stability.
For America and her allies, the challenge is to embrace realistic, adaptive measures that recognize both vulnerability and toughness. Hysteria in the face of fleeting peril risks undermining ultimate safety, yet cautious adaptability and rational assessment of peril offer the greatest chance of weathering this tempestuous era. The clock might be ticking, but rapid response, long-term planning, and wise leadership can still steer the world back from the abyss of catastrophe.