300 Ukrainians

An analogy struck me like a thunderbolt yesterday, and I don't know why I hadn't twigged it before. I don't know if anyone else has made the connection yet, but I haven't seen it.

Ukraine today stands much like the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae - outnumbered, outgunned, but refusing to yield. Just as the Spartans held the pass against a vastly larger Persian army, buying time for Greece to rally, Ukraine is holding the line against Russian aggression, giving Europe time to strengthen its defences. 

The Spartans fought not just for survival but to protect their way of life, knowing that surrender meant subjugation. Ukraine fights with the same resolve, standing as a shield for democratic nations against an imperialist force. And just as the Greeks ultimately triumphed because of the Spartans' sacrifice, Ukraine’s resistance could be the turning point that secures Europe's future - if the remaining free world (less America) stands firm in its support. However, it will come at the cost of Ukraine, just as Thermopylae cost the Spartans.

The similarities are stark! Zelensky is the Spartan, Leonidas, valiantly defending Greece, Putin is Xerxes, an imperialist invader. Trump is the traitorous Greek, Ephialtes, who betrayed the Spartans for Persian gold (minerals).

Trump has now confirmed what anyone with a functioning brain suspected. Ukraine is on its own. Aid is cut off, the American umbrella is gone, and Europe, despite its grand speeches about self-reliance, is nowhere near ready to step in. This is not just a bad decision. It is a catastrophic one.

If Ukraine is to survive, American deterrence is essential. Without it, there is no balance of power, no deterrent against Russian aggression, no way to stop Putin from achieving exactly what he set out to do. Ukraine cannot hold the line indefinitely without US weapons, intelligence and financial backing. The war will not end because Trump declares it so. What will end is Ukraine’s ability to resist, and with that, the very notion that the West stands for anything at all. Ukraine needs artillery shells, long-range missiles, air defence systems and intelligence support. With Trump cutting aid, all of that disappears, and Ukraine is left with nothing but dwindling stockpiles and empty promises from a Europe that is still struggling to rearm.

European leaders may try to compensate, but they are not yet ready to replace the US in providing deterrence. NATO has expanded, but expansion means nothing without the military capacity to defend new members. Countries like Latvia, Estonia and Lithuania have small armed forces, and while they are committed to NATO, they cannot hold off Russia alone. NATO’s entire strategy depends on rapid US reinforcements. Without them, Eastern Europe is a paper shield, and Putin knows it. Ukraine’s fall is not an immediate certainty, but at the current trajectory, military analysts estimate that within 12 to 24 months, Russian forces will have regained sufficient strength to overwhelm Ukrainian defences.

Europe has spent the past two years scrambling to prepare for this moment, but it is nowhere near ready. Defence industries take years to ramp up, military supply chains are still tangled in bureaucracy, and half of Europe is still clinging to the idea that diplomacy can work with a man who has made it clear that he only respects force. If Europe had spent the last decade preparing for this, things might be different, but it did not. It is only now waking up to the reality that it may have to stand alone, and it does not like what it sees.

Desperate to buy time, European leaders have resorted to stroking Trump’s ego, flattering him in the hope that he will throw them a bone. It is pragmatic, but doomed. He has no loyalty beyond himself. He demands absolute sycophancy, but it never guarantees results. He rewards praise only when it benefits him, and he will turn on allies the moment it suits him to do so. Europe’s leaders can grovel all they like, but the reality is that they cannot bribe, flatter or humour him into acting against his own instincts. Macron’s failed attempts at charm diplomacy, Johnson’s awkward flattery and the EU’s repeated concessions to his trade tantrums prove that he sees admiration as an entitlement, not an incentive. If they think they can manipulate him, they have learned nothing from the last eight years.

What follows from this is entirely predictable. With Trump refusing to step up to the plate and Europe not yet ready, Ukraine’s fate is sealed. It will not be an immediate collapse. Ukraine has fought too hard for that. It will be a slow, grinding loss. First, the ammunition shortages will start to bite. Then, as Russian forces regain their strength, Ukrainian troops will be forced to retreat. Bit by bit, Russia will reclaim more land, not through a dramatic offensive, but through sheer persistence. Eventually, without the ability to sustain its war effort, Ukraine will have no choice but to accept a so-called peace deal. The kind of peace that only works for the aggressor.

Undoubtedly there will be a massive flow of refugees into Europe, one than puts the small boats into perspective. However, there will be a healthy contingent of battle-hardened troops who could bolster Europe's decimated manpower, especially as they have been trained on western weaponry.  

If Ukraine falls, the consequences will not be limited to Ukraine. Russia will not stop at the Dnipro—it will push further, testing NATO’s resolve. Moldova, already partially occupied through the illegal presence of Russian troops in Transnistria, will likely be next. If NATO does not act, Russia will have carved out a path all the way to Romania’s border, positioning itself to disrupt supply lines and further weaken Western Europe’s security.

Putin will not stop there. He has no reason to. With Ukraine pacified, he will turn his attention elsewhere. Moldova is the next obvious target, but the real test will come when he starts probing NATO’s eastern flank. It will not begin with tanks rolling over borders. It will start with cyberattacks, political destabilisation, and manufactured border crises - tactics Putin has already used in Crimea, Moldova and Estonia. If NATO does not respond decisively, he will push further, testing the alliance at every step. If Trump signals that he has no intention of defending small countries in Eastern Europe, NATO’s credibility collapses.

At that point, Europe is forced into two equally appalling choices. Either it goes to war without American support, or it backs down and lets Russia take what it wants. A third option exists - massive NATO fortifications along the Polish and Baltic borders to contain Russia—but it is a last-resort strategy that leaves Ukraine permanently occupied and the alliance weakened. If NATO chooses war, it does so from a position of weakness, unprepared and divided. If it chooses appeasement, it hands Putin victory on a plate and proves that NATO is little more than a hollow shell. Either way, Russia wins.

It is at this stage that nuclear blackmail comes into play. Putin will not use nuclear weapons on the countries he wants to control. There would be no point in taking a wasteland. He will, however, threaten distant NATO members. The UK, Poland or any country he believes he can intimidate. The aim will be to paralyse NATO decision-making, to create division, fear and hesitation. Importantly, these would not be all-out nuclear war threats, but tactical nuclear strikes—small, battlefield-level detonations designed to break Western resolve. With Trump in office, Putin knows that all he needs to do is hold his nerve while the West dithers.

Of course, nothing in politics is permanent. Trump’s weakness on Russia is not America’s weakness - only his. If he is impeached, or if a Democrat wins in 2028, US policy could shift dramatically. Ukraine could receive renewed support, NATO could be reinforced, and Putin’s momentum could be stopped. But the damage done in the next four years will not be undone overnight. The question is whether Ukraine, NATO and Europe can hold out long enough to see that day come. If they cannot, history will remember Trump not as the man who saved America, but as the man who doomed the West.

Farage's denigration of a European Army looks a bit silly now..... Mind you, everything he says is silly - he's an industrial strength grievance machine with no solutions whatsoever.

I apologise for the crude image - I had to get No.1 Son to help me. If anyone can do a better one with AI, then please contact me, as this needs to go viral.

Sun Tzu or Maskirovka

Putin’s war machine is built on two things – brute force and outright fraud. When he tried to take Ukraine with brute force in 2022, it fell apart in spectacular fashion. But back in 2014, when he nicked Crimea, he did it the KGB way – deception, subversion and enough political theatre to make it look legitimate. If the full-scale invasion of Ukraine has been a masterclass in Russian incompetence, the annexation of Crimea was a masterclass in how to steal territory without firing a shot.

Russia didn't invade Crimea in the traditional sense. It absorbed it. First, it flooded the peninsula with spetsnaz, unmarked troops and undercover FSB operatives, then it rolled out the propaganda machine, convinced the local pro-Russian population they were in danger, and finally staged a referendum that was about as legitimate as a three-quid Rolex. By the time the world caught on, Russia had already changed the locks and put up curtains.

Sun Tzu would have given a nod of approval to the deception. Putin disguised his intentions, disguised his troops and disguised the annexation as a democratic choice. The key to it all was plausible deniability. The "little green men" weren’t Russian soldiers, apparently. The referendum was the "will of the people." Ukraine was "unable to govern Crimea properly" and the Russian-speaking population needed "protection." The whole thing was textbook "maskirovka", straight from the Soviet playbook.

Maskirovka – the Russian doctrine of military deception – has its roots in Tsarist Russia but was fully developed and institutionalised under the Soviet Union. The term itself means “disguise” or “camouflage”, but in practice, it covers a wide range of deception tactics, including false information, feints, decoys, psychological operations, and operational secrecy.

And it worked. The Ukrainian military, caught off guard, was paralysed. The West, still trying to believe Russia was a "rational actor", responded with diplomatic hand-wringing and weak sanctions. Putin had calculated, correctly, that the EU was too reliant on Russian gas and the US had no appetite for direct confrontation. Crimea was taken without a proper fight, and Russia was left with the impression that this kind of covert land grab was the future of warfare.

Which is exactly why Putin thought he could get away with the same trick in 2022. He sent in infiltrators, tried to prop up fake "pro-Russian" movements in Kharkiv and Zaporizhzhia, and expected Ukraine to fold like a deck of cards. But this time, Ukraine wasn’t playing along. The lessons of Crimea had been learned. The infiltration was countered, the collaborators were rounded up, and instead of a swift, bloodless takeover, Russia found itself bogged down in a real war – one that has exposed its military as a bloated, corrupt embarrassment.

Ukraine has since used Sun Tzu’s principles better than Russia ever could. Instead of playing defence, it has taken the war to Russian logistics, leadership and morale. Instead of engaging in costly urban warfare, it has drawn Russian forces into meat grinders like Bakhmut, forcing them to throw away men and equipment for minimal gains. Instead of letting Putin dictate the pace, Ukraine has launched blistering counteroffensives, striking where Russia is weakest. Every drone attack on Moscow, every hit on the Black Sea Fleet, every rail sabotage deep in Russian-occupied territory is part of the same strategy – keep the enemy unbalanced, stretched thin and doubting itself.

For all its grandstanding, the Russian military has shown that it can only win when no one is fighting back. Crimea was a coup, not a war. The moment it faced a real one, all its advantages vanished. Putin thought he could keep expanding Russia’s borders the way he took Crimea – quickly, quietly and without consequence. Instead, he has walked straight into a war of attrition he cannot afford.

Crimea was the high point of Russian hybrid warfare. Ukraine has made sure there won’t be another one.

Prince of Wales

Prince William spoke some Welsh the other day.

If the title Prince of Wales is meant to be more than just a bauble passed down through generations of English monarchs, then perhaps it’s time to rethink how future holders of the role are prepared for the job. At present, the process involves a bit of ceremony, a hastily arranged crash course in the language, and an investiture where the lucky lad gets to wave at some Welsh people before buggering off back to England.

Charles at least made a token effort, spending a term at Aberystwyth under the tutelage of Dr Tedi Millward, who must have had the patience of a saint. Young William, on the other hand, was simply handed the title without so much as an Os gwelwch yn dda. If the monarchy is serious about keeping Wales onside, it might want to try something more convincing than a few words of heavily coached Cymraeg before heading back to Sandhurst.

Which brings me to the obvious solution. If future Princes of Wales are expected to represent Wales, they should be educated in Wales. Not just for a term, but properly. The ideal candidate would attend a proper Welsh school – not a posh English one with a Welsh-language textbook on the shelf, but a real, immersive, fully-fledged Welsh education.

A Welsh Eton, if you will. Christ College in Brecon would be a good start. Founded in 1541, it has history, tradition, and academic clout. Llandovery College is another strong contender, especially given its rugby pedigree. But if we’re serious about making this work, the best choice would be a Welsh-medium state school like Ysgol Glantaf in Cardiff or Ysgol Bro Preseli in Pembrokeshire. Let the next Prince of Wales sit the Welsh Baccalaureate, play for the school’s first XV, and spend a few years actually living among the people they’re meant to represent.

And none of this half-hearted “tutored by an Oxbridge academic” nonsense. Full immersion. School assemblies in Welsh. History lessons that cover Owain Glyndŵr in a bit more depth than the standard footnote about being a “troublemaker.” A social life that involves more cawl and less Kensington. A few drunken nights out in Aberystwyth or Cardiff wouldn’t hurt either – essential cultural experience, that.

Of course, this would require the Palace to accept that the title Prince of Wales should be something other than a hereditary rubber stamp. That might be a stretch. After all, the last thing the establishment wants is for the heir to the throne to start identifying too much with the natives. One minute he’s reciting Dafydd ap Gwilym, the next he’s questioning why the English Crown still holds dominion over a country that has its own government, language, and increasingly little patience for being treated like a royal afterthought.

If the monarchy genuinely wants to modernise and retain relevance in Wales, it needs to start by treating the country as more than just a backdrop for pretty pictures and convenient titles. Future Princes of Wales should be educated in Wales, in Welsh, and by Welsh teachers. Otherwise, why bother with the title at all?

I spent 2 years at a public school in Anglesey between '69 and '71 - thankfully it was before Welsh became compulsory; however, speaking Dutch I couldn't see myself having problems with fluency - you see, Welsh as well as Dutch are classed not so much as languages as diseases of the throat and having one would make the other easy to speak, in a guttural sort of way.

The Iron Curtain of American Isolationism

"From the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Canadian border to the Gulf of Mexico, an iron curtain has descended across the United States."

Once the leader of the free world, America now stands increasingly alone – walled off not just by policy, but by its own self-inflicted isolation. The alliances that once ensured global stability are strained, its moral authority diminished, and its voice in world affairs reduced to a whisper of its former self. Zelensky is now the Leader of the Free World.

This iron curtain is not the work of foreign adversaries – it is built from within. It is forged in the fires of populism, strengthened by a rejection of international cooperation, and held in place by a belief that America can turn inward and still lead. The world has moved forward, but America has stood still, locked behind walls of its own making – political, economic, and ideological.

In the years since Trump’s rise, this isolation has deepened. Long-standing allies are treated as adversaries, while strongmen and autocrats are embraced as friends. International agreements that once ensured peace and stability are torn up with reckless abandon, replaced with bluster and bravado. Once a nation of immigrants, America has turned hostile to the very people who once made it great. And as crises – climate change, pandemics, economic shifts – demand global solutions, America retreats behind its iron curtain, refusing to engage with a world that no longer waits for its leadership.

Behind this curtain, the truth is distorted. Americans are told that the world is their enemy, that alliances weaken rather than strengthen them, that self-reliance means isolation rather than cooperation. The great promise of American democracy – the idea that it could be a shining city on a hill – has been replaced by a fearful, suspicious nation, looking inward while the rest of the world moves on.

But history teaches us that no nation thrives in isolation. The great powers that cut themselves off from the world – whether by force or by folly – have all found themselves diminished. And so, America must ask itself: will it remain behind this iron curtain, shrinking in relevance, distrusted and resented by allies, gleefully exploited by adversaries? Or will it once again tear down this wall of its own making and rejoin the world, not as an isolated empire in decline, but as a nation willing to lead, to engage, and to stand for something greater than itself? For an iron curtain, once closed, does not open easily. But if America does not lift it, history will move forward without it.

Security Guarantees - the Farage Way

There's so much going on at present that I could be doing 3 or 4 posts a day. Three will suffice today, but I've already had to cancel several due to events overtaking me. So......

Nigel Farage, newly installed MP for Clacton and already proving he has absolutely no interest in representing the people who actually voted for him, was in Parliament yesterday dispensing his usual brand of Kremlin-friendly drivel. His latest gem? Apparently, a minerals deal between the USA and Ukraine should be "enough" of a security guarantee. Yes, because when you’re being shelled daily by a revanchist lunatic who wants to wipe your country off the map, what you really need is a robust trade agreement. I’m sure that’ll stop the tanks. Perhaps Ukraine could throw in a loyalty card too – buy ten Javelin missiles, get the next one free.

This is the same Farage who only yesterday was on the radio defending his admiration for Putin as an "operator." You know, the kind of operator who annexes territory, has political opponents thrown out of windows, poisons people in the UK and runs a war machine built on mass murder and propaganda. It does make you wonder what kind of "operations" Farage himself admires or wants to implement. Or perhaps he's just a bit jealous. After all, Putin doesn’t have to bother with elections. Farage is fast becoming a liability to Reform - a bit like their election manifesto promises that are totally devoid of actual, workable solutions.

But of course, Farage isn’t pro-Putin – he’s just anti-NATO, anti-Ukraine and anti-anything that involves standing up to actual tyranny. The man who spent years bleating about British sovereignty now seems to think other countries should just roll over and accept their lot. Ukraine doesn’t need security guarantees, he reckons – just a few contracts signed and a firm handshake. That should stop the missile strikes.

Meanwhile, Clacton, the town that actually put him in Westminster, gets nothing. No talk of investment, no plans for jobs or infrastructure – just another round of grandstanding about how the UK should be less supportive of Ukraine and more understanding of Putin’s needs. Perhaps his next big idea will be to offer Russia a fishing licence in the North Sea as a goodwill gesture.

If Farage had been around in 1939, he’d have told Poland to accept a nice trade deal with Germany and stop causing trouble. Maybe he’d have suggested Churchill send Hitler some discounted coal and call it even. But that’s the thing about Nigel. He’s never met a dictator he doesn’t want to flatter. If they’re anti-West, anti-democracy and allergic to basic decency, he’s all ears.

He even tried to furiously row back on his support for Andrew Tate on LBC Radio yesterday, but Nick Ferrari, the morning presenter, was having none of it and quoted his words back to him. Farage has previously praised Tate for being an ‘important voice’ for the ’emasculated’ and giving boys ‘perhaps a bit of confidence at school’. Farage must be feeling rather lonely at present. What on earth persuades people to vote for his toxic brand of grievance with no solutions?

A Compromised Trump

Donald Trump is back in the White House and, once again, the question looms over his presidency like a bad comb-over. What exactly does Vladimir Putin have on him? The usual suspects say it's money. Some think it's kompromat, the lurid kind. But Trump has always thrived on scandal. The real vulnerability has always been his ego, and if Putin has leverage, it is likely not a bedroom tape but something far more devastating. Proof that Trump’s victories were never really his own.

The 2024 election saw Trump storm back to power, defeating Kamala Harris with 312 electoral votes. He is now the first president since Grover Cleveland to serve two non-consecutive terms, a historical curiosity that overshadows the greater reality. This was not just a political comeback. It was a geopolitical disaster waiting to unfold. His stance on Ukraine is hostile, his intelligence appointments are dubious, and his war on the agencies that once investigated him has only escalated.

We have been here before. The Mueller investigation laid out in excruciating detail how Russia interfered in 2016, spreading disinformation and hacking emails to tip the scales in Trump’s favour. While Mueller stopped short of proving active collusion, the links between Trump’s campaign and Russian operatives were undeniable. Then came the Durham report, a desperate attempt to rewrite the narrative by painting the FBI as the real villains. But Durham failed to erase the original findings. Russia wanted Trump in power, and they helped him get there.

Trump’s history of undermining NATO should have been enough to confirm where his loyalties lie. Putin has long sought to weaken the alliance, and Trump has done his best to oblige. He has threatened to withdraw the U.S. from it, questioned its relevance, and most recently, said he would encourage Russia to attack members that do not meet defense spending targets. That is not foreign policy. That is outright sabotage.

Then there are the financial ties. Trump’s businesses have been awash with Russian money for decades, particularly through real estate deals. His 2016 campaign was still negotiating Trump Tower Moscow while he publicly denied any financial interests in Russia. He fought tooth and nail to keep his tax returns hidden, only for them to reveal extensive dealings that raise more questions than answers.

The attacks on U.S. intelligence agencies have been another hallmark of Trump’s tenure. He has spent years undermining the FBI and CIA for reporting on Russian election interference. At the 2018 Helsinki summit, standing next to Putin, he publicly dismissed his own intelligence agencies’ conclusions, siding with the Russian leader instead. Now, he has installed Kash Patel as FBI Director, a man whose main qualification is his willingness to dismantle any investigation into Trump’s dealings. Expect the FBI to suddenly refocus its attention on Trump’s enemies rather than foreign influence.

If there was any doubt about his alignment, his hostility toward Ukraine should put it to rest. His first impeachment was over his attempt to blackmail Zelenskyy into providing dirt on Biden in exchange for military aid. Now, in his second term, he has already snapped at Zelenskyy for not showing enough “gratitude.” This is not a man leading a democracy. This is a man laying the groundwork to abandon an ally to its fate.

Even before 2016, the Trump campaign made exactly one major change to the Republican platform. It removed language supporting lethal aid to Ukraine in its fight against Russian-backed separatists. That was not a coincidence. That was an early signal of where his loyalties lay.

Beyond direct policy, Trump’s broader behaviour aligns almost perfectly with Putin’s goals. He attacks the EU, weakens U.S. alliances, and praises autocrats while undermining democratic institutions at home. He admires Putin, Xi Jinping, and Kim Jong-un, treating their iron-fisted rule as a template rather than a cautionary tale. None of this is accidental. Putin does not need a puppet. He needs a chaotic wrecking ball who will tear apart Western alliances and isolate America from its allies. Trump fits the bill perfectly.

Then there is the election itself. Disinformation campaigns and cyberattacks targeting Kamala Harris surged in the months leading up to 2024, echoing the Russian interference in 2016. Russian-backed social media campaigns flooded swing states with misinformation about voter fraud, stoking distrust in the electoral process. AI-generated deepfake videos smeared Harris with fabricated scandals that played directly into existing political divisions. Trump’s messaging mirrored Russian propaganda almost word for word, particularly on Ukraine, NATO, and the supposed corruption of the Biden administration.

If Putin holds proof that Russian interference made the difference, that would be the one thing Trump could never withstand. His entire persona is built on the illusion of strength. Admitting he did not win on his own merit would destroy him. That explains why he spent his first term dismantling investigations, attacking intelligence agencies, and bending over backwards to please Putin. That explains why, even now, his policies continue to weaken the West while strengthening Russia.

What we are witnessing is not just political chaos but an erosion of Western power at the hands of a man who cares more about personal validation than national security. The United States is once again led by someone whose loyalty is, at best, questionable and, at worst, entirely compromised. And the worst part? This is not a new story. It is the same script playing out again, only this time the stakes are even higher. The longer America refuses to face this reality, the deeper the damage will go. By the time they finally wake up, it may be too late to undo what has already been set in motion.

Oil Subsidies

For decades, governments have shovelled eye-watering sums of money into the pockets of fossil fuel giants, all in the name of keeping energy affordable. Billions, trillions, even, spent propping up an industry that has known full well for over half a century that it's cooking the planet. And what do we, the public, get in return? Higher bills, air pollution, and the occasional PR campaign about how Shell and BP are apparently our saviours in the transition to green energy, while they simultaneously invest billions in squeezing the last drop of profit from oil and gas.

But what if, just imagine, those subsidies were redirected to renewables instead? Not to line the pockets of energy oligarchs, not to fund another round of taxpayer-funded oil exploration, but to actually create a clean, self-sustaining energy system. The result would be nothing short of transformational.

First, let’s talk cost. Fossil fuels aren’t cheap, they’re just subsidised into affordability. If the same financial support went to wind, solar, and energy storage, the cost of renewables would plummet, making electricity cheaper for everyone. No more riding the rollercoaster of gas price volatility. No more blackmail from despots holding energy supplies hostage. Just abundant, domestically produced energy from the sun and wind, things, incidentally, that no dictator can turn off at the tap.

Then there’s the small matter of climate change. The fossil fuel industry has been given a free pass to pollute for decades, with the rest of us picking up the bill, whether through environmental damage, extreme weather, or increased healthcare costs thanks to dirty air. Redirecting subsidies to renewables wouldn’t just be an economic shift; it would be an act of self-preservation. Fewer emissions, cleaner air, healthier people. It’s so blindingly obvious that it almost feels ridiculous to spell it out.

And jobs, ah yes, the perennial excuse from fossil fuel lobbyists who suddenly discover their concern for workers when their profits are threatened. Let’s be clear: the renewable sector already employs more people worldwide than coal, oil, and gas combined. If we actually backed green energy properly, we’d create millions of new, sustainable jobs, ones that don’t involve digging, drilling, or inhaling carcinogenic fumes all day. The only people who stand to lose out are those at the very top of the fossil fuel pyramid, and frankly, they’ll be just fine, possibly a bit less obscenely rich, but still comfortably nestled in their tax havens.

Of course, the fossil fuel industry won’t go quietly. They’ll lobby, whinge, and claim that civilisation itself will collapse if we stop bankrolling them. They’ll commission think tanks to churn out reports “proving” that renewables are unreliable and expensive. They’ll fund politicians who parrot the same tired nonsense about “keeping the lights on.” But let’s not forget: these are the same people who have lied through their teeth for decades about the damage they’re doing. Their credibility is as dead as the dinosaurs their industry is built on.

So why aren’t governments acting? Simple, because the fossil fuel industry still holds the levers of power. Until that grip is broken, we’ll keep funnelling taxpayer money into their coffers while they squeeze every last penny from a dying industry. The choice is clear: keep subsidising decline or invest in the future. It’s time to stop throwing good money after bad and start backing a system that actually works for people, not just corporate profit margins.

The biggest obstacle isn’t technical, it’s political inertia and vested interests clinging to fossil fuels like a security blanket. If the government got serious, upgraded the grid, backed storage, and stopped pandering to the oil and gas lobby, we could have cheap, homegrown, renewable energy for all. And it wouldn’t take decades. With proper investment and reform, the UK could be largely self-sufficient on renewables within 10 to 15 years, cutting bills, boosting energy security, and leaving the fossil fuel barons scrambling for relevance. But until that happens, we’ll keep subsidising failure while the solutions sit right in front of us.

Dark Chocolate

Dark chocolate – the con artist of the confectionery world. A substance so bitter, so devoid of joy, that only the truly self-flagellating would willingly consume it without drowning it in orange or some other flavour strong enough to mask its inherent nastiness. And yet, there exists a cult – a deluded band of masochists – who insist not only on eating it but on looking down their noses at those of us who prefer our chocolate to actually taste nice.

“Ah, but it’s sophisticated,” they say, swirling their 85% cocoa misery in their mouths like a wine snob gargling vinegar. “It’s healthier, full of antioxidants.” Yes, well, so is tree bark, but you don’t see people shaving that into their coffee or rhapsodising over its nuanced flavour profile, do you?

The health argument is always the last refuge of the joyless. They can’t bring themselves to admit they don’t actually enjoy the taste – no, they’ve convinced themselves that suffering through the bitterness is an intellectual pursuit, a refined pleasure. Meanwhile, the rest of us – the rational, the sane – are content to enjoy chocolate that actually behaves like chocolate: smooth, creamy, and not reminiscent of chewing on a burnt coffee bean.

And let’s talk about those percentages. What exactly are they meant to signify? 70%, 85%, 99% – a sliding scale of smugness? At what point does it cease being chocolate and simply become edible tar? There’s a point of no return where the cocoa content is so high that the entire point of chocolate – pleasure – is completely obliterated. But no, the dark chocolate brigade will still be there, gnawing away at their cocoa bricks, pretending to enjoy themselves while their taste buds wither in protest.

Of course, the only time dark chocolate is even remotely palatable is when it’s drowned in orange, mint, or some other assertive flavour that can slap it into submission. At that point, it ceases to be dark chocolate and becomes a mere vessel for something actually pleasant. The same people who turn their noses up at a humble bar of Dairy Milk will suddenly wax lyrical about a chocolate orange as if the presence of a citrus note suddenly justifies the horror beneath.

It’s time to stop pretending. Dark chocolate is a fraud. A bitter, pretentious fraud. If you like it, fine – but don’t try to convince the rest of us that we’re missing out on anything other than a mouthful of disappointment.

The Machine Stops

I recently bought a copy of EM Forster’s The Machine Stops. A short story, barely 12,000 words, written in 1909, and yet it reads like a prophecy – not of some distant dystopia, but of the past fifteen years of British decline. I highly recommend it as a read – unsettlingly prescient and far more relevant than it has any right to be.

Forster describes a world where people live in isolated pods, sustained by an all-encompassing, omnipotent Machine. Everything – their needs, their communications, their very thoughts – is mediated through it. Nobody questions it, nobody challenges it, and when it starts to break down, they simply hope it will sort itself out. Sound familiar?

The UK, once a country that built things, invented things, and shaped the world, now resembles Forster’s Machine-dependent society. The government, the institutions, the public services – all slowly breaking down while people either pretend not to notice or mumble vaguely about how someone, somewhere, ought to do something. It started with austerity, the great hollowing-out. Schools, hospitals, councils – cut to the bone. “We must tighten our belts,” they said, as if running a country were akin to a household budget and not, say, an economic system requiring investment to function. We were assured it was necessary, prudent, the only way forward. Fast forward a decade and the NHS is gasping, councils are going bankrupt, and entire industries are now reliant on food banks to sustain their workers.

Then came Brexit – the great act of national self-harm, wrapped in the language of liberation. “Take back control,” they cried, as they set fire to trade deals, choked supply chains, and threw up border checks that made even the simplest transaction a bureaucratic nightmare. Like Forster’s citizens, the Brexiteers were certain they were free – even as the Machine tightened its grip. Everything that followed – the economic stagnation, the worker shortages, the crumbling international reputation – was brushed off as “teething problems” or, even more laughably, blamed on Remainers for not believing hard enough.

Forster’s Machine ultimately collapses because no one remembers how to fix it. The people, long stripped of autonomy, simply sit in their pods, waiting for someone else to solve the problem. And that, perhaps, is the biggest parallel of all. Britain is broken, but the response is inertia. A nation that once led the Industrial Revolution now accepts rolling infrastructure failures as a fact of life. Trains don’t run, ambulances don’t turn up, everything is falling apart – but we just shrug and carry on.

Of course, the difference is that Forster’s world was pure fiction. Ours isn’t. The Machine isn’t stopping – it’s grinding on, ever more dysfunctional, ever more detached from reality, while those in charge pretend nothing is wrong. And if we don’t snap out of it soon, we’ll end up just like Forster’s doomed society – bewildered, powerless, and crushed beneath the weight of our own negligence.

Zelensky - Trump

It takes a special kind of hubris to publicly dress down a wartime leader whose country is fighting for its survival, but Trump and his new pet, JD Vance, have managed it in spectacular fashion. The Oval Office showdown with Zelensky wasn’t just an exercise in diplomatic incompetence – it was a calculated humiliation, a thinly veiled message to Putin that his man in Washington is ready to play ball.

Zelensky, a man who has spent the last three years leading his nation against an unprovoked invasion, was essentially summoned to the White House for a berating. Not a strategic discussion, not a private warning – a public dressing-down designed for maximum humiliation. Vance, a man whose foreign policy expertise extends no further than his ability to parrot MAGA talking points, had the gall to tell Zelensky that the war must be ended through diplomacy.

What kind of diplomacy? That was Zelensky’s entirely reasonable question. And for this, he was accused of being disrespectful. This, coming from the same Trump who only days ago labelled Zelensky a dictator and has a 4% popularity – an utterly absurd comparison that does nothing but parrot Kremlin propaganda. Disrespectful to whom, exactly? To an administration that, in just a few months, has already started making excuses for Putin? To a man who, in his first term, tried to blackmail Ukraine by withholding military aid in a bid to dig up dirt on his political opponent? To a government that has openly toyed with the idea of cutting off support entirely, while feeding Russian propaganda lines about Ukraine’s so-called intransigence? There was only one distator in that room, and the long shadow of another.

What is leading to WWIII is not Ukraine, as Vance suggested, but Trump throwing NATO under the bus - it's the existence of NATO that has averted WWIII to date. But here’s the real twist: JD Vance himself once compared Trump’s movement to Hitler’s rise. Back in 2016, before he realised that his path to power required full MAGA servitude, he warned about Trump’s demagoguery and the danger of a strongman cult. Yet here he is, Trump’s lapdog-in-chief, standing beside him as he shames a democratic leader who has risked everything to protect his country.

Vance’s transformation from principled critic to Trump’s obsequious errand boy is one of the most shameless political conversions in modern history. This is a man who once viewed Trump as a threat to democracy, yet now stands beside him spouting Kremlin-approved talking points. And all while performing the political gymnastics required to pretend he still has a shred of integrity. The reality is, he doesn’t. He traded that in the moment he realised that kissing Trump’s boots was his ticket to power.

The performance in the Oval Office was not about foreign policy. It was about subjugation. Zelensky was meant to play the role of the grateful servant, nodding along as Trump and Vance lectured him on diplomacy – meaning, of course, that he should surrender Ukrainian land to Putin in exchange for Trump’s good graces. When he failed to comply, they attacked him for being ungrateful. The irony is staggering: the same Trump who held Ukraine’s military aid hostage in 2019 is now moaning that Zelensky hasn’t been grovelling enough for US support.

Make no mistake – this is about setting the stage for America’s full retreat from Ukraine, the green light that Putin has been waiting for. Trump has long admired strongmen, and if anyone was grinning from ear to ear watching that Oval Office spectacle, it was Vladimir Putin himself. He got exactly what he wanted: a fractured West, an emboldened Russia, and a US administration willing to undermine its own allies to serve domestic political theatre.

What This Means for Europe

• This Oval Office humiliation of Zelensky is a flashing red warning light for Europe. 
• Trump’s return means the US can no longer be trusted to uphold NATO’s security. 
• If Ukraine is thrown under the bus, how long before NATO itself is next? 
• A Weakened Ukraine Strengthens Russia – If Trump and Vance cut off support, Putin will drag out the war, knowing Ukraine will be forced to surrender territory. 
• The Baltic states, Moldova, even Poland – they’re all watching this unfold with growing alarm.
• Europe’s Defence is Now Its Own Problem – Macron has long argued for a European defence policy, and if Trump abandons Ukraine, that urgency will only grow. 
• But the reality is, Europe is not ready to defend itself without US support. 
• NATO’s Existential Crisis – Trump has already threatened to let Russia do what it wants to NATO members who don’t “pay enough.” If Ukraine is abandoned, it sets a precedent: NATO protection is no longer guaranteed. 
• Energy Security at Risk – A stronger Russia means renewed attempts to undermine European energy independence. If Trump cozies up to the Kremlin, expect attempts to reverse Europe’s shift away from Russian gas. 
• A Gift to the European Far Right – Le Pen, AfD, and Orbán will use this moment to push for dropping Ukraine support and aligning with Trump’s isolationism. Another Kremlin win.

Starmer now faces a huge decision. He wants to fund defence spending by raiding International Aid, but that won’t cut it. If Britain is serious about defence and security, then massive borrowing is unavoidable – and that means ditching the Tory-imposed fiscal straitjacket. The UK’s foreign aid budget is £10 billion a year, while Starmer wants to raise defence spending to 2.5% of GDP – an increase of about £20 billion a year. Even scrapping aid wouldn’t be enough. And cutting aid to fund defence is a false economy anyway – it creates instability, leading to higher security risks later. It's the time to borrown big.

• Acknowledge reality – The UK cannot meet modern defence challenges without borrowing tens of billions. 
• Ditch the arbitrary fiscal rules – Invest in security the way successful economies invest in infrastructure and industry. 
• Use borrowing strategically – Long-term bonds at low interest rates should fund defence modernisation. 
• Boost UK defence production – Investing in arms manufacturing creates jobs and offsets borrowing costs. 
• Strengthen European defence ties – If Trump guts NATO, the UK must work closely with France, Germany, and the EU.

The choice is clear. If Starmer sticks to Tory economic orthodoxy, he’ll end up making marginal, ineffective tweaks while the world grows more dangerous. Either he embraces borrowing to secure Britain’s defences, or he presides over a military decline at the worst possible time. Should the King's State Visit invitation be withdrawn from Trump? Definitely.

Trump is in power. Putin is watching. Putin is laughing. Europe is vulnerable. Now is not the time for timid economic caution – it’s time for action.

What does Putin have on Trump? Probably nothing so tawdry as sex tapes. More likely, evidence of Russian interference in American elections and casting doubt on Trump's legitimacy. To Trump's ego, that would be anathema. It's telling that Associated Press were not invited to the press conference, but TASS, the Russian news agency, was.

And what of China? Could Xi step in and provide a security blanket in return for minerals? Not impossible as America stands back from the world stage. In reality, Ukraine needs Western support for its security, and China knows it. A Beijing-brokered deal would come with too many strings, too little real protection, and too much geopolitical risk. Xi won’t stick his neck out for Ukraine - unless it’s on China’s terms, for China’s benefit, and at minimal cost.

And we have ......Farage..... Farage’s blind allegiance to Trump may have seemed like a winning strategy until now, but it’s a ticking time bomb for his electoral chances in the UK. Trump’s antics, from cosying up to Putin to humiliating Zelensky, are out of step with the British electorate. Farage’s unwavering support for him could well alienate voters who see Ukraine’s struggle as a fight for democracy. And when Trump inevitably drops him faster than a dodgy NFT scheme, Farage will be left floundering, his political career resembling one of his ill-fated fishing trips – a lot of bluster, not much to show for it, and a strong whiff of something unpleasant lingering in the air. Hitching his wagon to a sinking ship might just torpedo his long-cherished ambitions of making Reform a major force in British politics. Or at least it would, if Reform was anything more than a glorified pub rant with a logo.

Let's be clear, this isn't about putting boots on the ground in Ukraine (although rumours abound that British special forces are already there, but the government wouldn't admit it if they were), but arming Ukraine and being prepared for if Ukraine falls, as a NATO ally could be next.