Why We Need to Adjust Our Horizon

As NATO readies for war, we must strengthen ourselves for the added strain. This is how I'll help.

Sep 23, 2025

Dear friends

Since I began writing here six months ago I've become so deeply engrossed in what's happening in the US, that I've stopped paying attention — really paying attention — to what's happening in the wider world. I suspect that may be the same for many of you. But it's really important that we take a moment to step back from what’s happening within America’s borders to consider what's evolving beyond them.

On Friday I published a post on Presidential Power Watch about Trump’s executive order restoring the old name “Department of War” in place of “Department of Defense”. On the surface, the order looks like a symbolic shift — a president reaching back into history to restore an older name — and really, it's something you could mistake for little more than cosmetic politics. But this move cannot be read in isolation, and must be considered in the context of what's taking place far beyond U.S. borders.

Allies and rivals alike take their cues from how Washington names and frames its power. When the United States calls its military the "Department of War", it is not just signalling at home — it is setting terms for every every defence contract, every NATO meeting, every bilateral negotiation. And those terms are landing in a world that is preparing for war.

NATO Members Are Preparing for War

Governments of NATO member states are no longer treating war as an abstract risk — they are actively preparing for it.

Canada

Canada is a founding member of NATO, but for most of the past seventy years it has been known inside the alliance as the under-spender. Ottawa was criticised, sometimes ridiculed, for not meeting its commitments, keeping troop numbers small, and leaning on U.S. protection. That posture has now flipped.

In June, the government announced it will hit NATO’s 2 percent spending target by 2026 — nearly a decade earlier than expected — and keep climbing from there. This means billions diverted into defence while Canadian hospitals face staffing shortages, infrastructure crumbles, and public services are already stretched. It is a profound political choice, not a technical adjustment.

The money is not just for new aircraft or ships. Ottawa is building three new military operational support hubs in the Arctic, with the promise of more to come. The Canadian Coast Guard has been folded into the Defence Department, signalling that civilian institutions are being militarised. And Canada signed a security pact with the European Union in June — something unimaginable even a few years ago — to ensure Europe and Canada can supply each other directly in a crisis without waiting for Washington.

For Canadians, this is unfamiliar territory, and the significance is sharper still because Trump has openly talked about making Canada America’s “51st state.” In that light, Canada’s sudden militarisation is not just about deterring Russia or preparing for Arctic conflict. It is about positioning itself in a world where its sovereignty could be tested not only by adversaries abroad, but also by the neighbour it has long depended on.

Canada's defence is not a routine NATO budget debate, but a recognition that the ground has shifted under the entire alliance.

The European Union

The European Union’s Readiness 2030 plan, unveiled this summer, aims to mobilise almost €800 billion of defence investment by the end of the decade. That investment is not simply about buying new equipment — it includes efforts to rebuild Europe’s defence industry, encourage joint procurement and contracts, and stockpile essential munitions like ammunition.

For U.S. readers, it helps to translate that scale. €800 billion is almost double what the EU spent bailing out Portugal, Ireland, Greece and Spain during the eurozone crisis combined. It is also bigger than the Biden administration’s original climate plan. To mobilise sums of that order in a time of high inflation and strict debt limits is not routine procurement. It is governments deciding that preparing to fight a war on European soil matters more, in the near term, than stabilising public finances or investing elsewhere.

And the intent is explicit. One of the plan’s central goals is to reduce dependence on non-European suppliers. That means artillery shells, drones, and air-defence systems sourced and stockpiled inside Europe, so they are available even if Washington does not deliver. In effect, Europe is preparing for a scenario in which the United States is not a dependable partner.

The United Kingdom

In July, the UK published its Strategic Defence Review 2025. For the first time in decades, the UK government has bluntly told the British public that we must “actively prepare” for the possibility of war on British soil.

For American readers, it is worth pausing here. The United States lives in a state of permanent military readiness. The Pentagon budget is debated every year, “homeland security” is part of daily vocabulary, and Americans are used to seeing troops at airports — and now, National Guard on some city streets. The UK is not like that. Since the end of the Second World War, successive governments have reassured the British public that wars would be fought elsewhere. The new review breaks that assurance.

It cites growing Russian aggression, new nuclear risks, and daily cyber-attacks at home and pledges to lift security spending to 5 percent of GDP by 2035. The significance of that number cannot be overstated.

Keir Starmer was elected on promises to rebuild Britain’s frayed social contract — to fix hospitals, support struggling families, and restore public services hollowed out by austerity. Instead, with inflation still biting, councils declaring bankruptcy, and a deep fiscal black hole to fill, he has chosen to prioritise defence above all else. The political consequences are already visible. Starmer is now the most unpopular prime minister in decades. His government is haemorrhaging credibility as Reform UK positions itself to capitalise on public disillusionment. In three years’ time, Farage is likely to ride this discontent into power, yet still Starmer's position remains unchanged.

At the same time, British newspapers are filled with headlines warning that we are heading for World War Three, reinforcing the government’s call to readiness. And that narrative is being echoed in the entertainment sector.

I’ve just finished watching season seven of Celebrity SAS: Who Dares Wins. If you're not familiar with it, the show drops a group of celebrities into harsh environments and puts them through a stripped-down version of the United Kingdom Special Forces selection course. It has always been gruelling, with the instructors pushing people to their limits to test their grit and endurance.

What stopped me short from the onset this time was not so much the tasks given, but the words being used. In earlier series the instructors spoke about resilience, about whether someone had the toughness to get through. This time the language is starkly different. Over and over we heard phrases like: “We’re preparing these celebrities for war” and “When you’re at war, you…”

That came as a shock to me. A reality show that was once framed as a test of mettle is now being cast as preparation for war. It's not a subtle shift in narrative. It tells viewers that conflict is not a distant scenario. And while it mirrors what the government itself is telling the public, it does so more insidiously, easing war into our everyday language until it feels less like a possibility and more like the backdrop of ordinary life.

None of this is normal in the UK. It marks a profound departure from Britain’s post-war political culture. For a society that has lived for eighty years with the assurance that war will not reach its own shores, this is not just a shift in defence policy. It is a rupture, a reorientation of the state itself, with long-term consequences for democracy at home.

Poland and Estonia

If Canada, the EU, and the UK show how NATO governments are preparing for war, Poland and Estonia show what it looks like when the line is crossed.

On the night of 9 September, nineteen Russian drones entered Polish airspace. Airports were shut, homes damaged, and Polish and NATO aircraft scrambled to intercept. No one was killed, but it was sufficient for Prime Minister Donald Tusk to tell parliament that Poland had come “the closest we have been to open conflict since the Second World War.”

The next day Poland invoked Article 4 of the NATO treaty. Article 4 does not trigger collective defence — Article 5 does that — but it is NATO’s mechanism for forcing all 32 members to consult on how to respond. This is the first time it has been invoked in direct response to Russia’s actions, marking the moment NATO’s eastern flank shifted from preparing for war to actively managing an attack on allied territory.

Since then, the provocations have continued. Days later, Polish security forces neutralised a drone flying over Warsaw’s government buildings, including the presidential residence. Just a week later, three Russian MiG-31 jets violated Estonian airspace for 12 minutes before being intercepted by NATO aircraft. Tallinn described it as “unprecedentedly brazen,” and NATO was again forced into consultations under Article 4.

And yesterday, at the UN Security Council in New York, Britain and Poland have openly warned that if Russian aircraft enter NATO skies again, they may be confronted directly. Estonia has gone further, calling Russia a “real threat to global peace and security”. What once looked like distant risks are now being described in the open as deliberate provocations that could tip into armed confrontation.

Taken together, these are not symbolic gestures. They are signs that all 32 NATO members are putting their populations and economies on a war footing.

Why This Matters in The US

I'm not writing this to alarm you. Please don't think that if you visited the UK or most other NATO countries — outside of the eastern flank — you would see a nation visibly readying for war. Day-to-day life carries on very much as normal: children still walk to school in the mornings, trains run their usual routes, pubs are full on Friday nights. But for those of us who are paying attention, storm clouds are visible on the horizon. Cash-strapped governments across NATO would not be diverting such vast sums into defence unless they believed there was a real risk those weapons will need to be used.

And I suspect that this is why allies desperate to keep Trump from pulling out of NATO have accepted lopsided trade deals, allowing U.S. firms to dominate key sectors in exchange for continued protection. Why the cash-strapped UK government has welcomed American tech investment into their infrastructure, even though it deepens dependence — because the money would help keep the economies afloat. And why the UK has gone so far as to host Trump with full pageantry — red carpets, banquets, and a royal state visit. Not out of respect, but to keep him sweet.

This may also be why Trump has chosen this moment to rename the Department of Defense the Department of War. It signals American military strength to the whole world, just as NATO allies — still dependent on US power — are spending heavily to prepare for conflict. And also why he has just introduced the “Trump Gold Card”.
At its core, this monetises access to safety — to the protection of the country with the world’s most powerful military. In a time when war threatens, America becomes the ultimate gated community, where entry is not a right but a privilege that can be sold, restricted, or withdrawn at will.

All of this reinforces Trump’s image as indispensable, the man no ally can afford to cross. And that has huge implications for all Americans.

We've seen how Trump stands to significantly gain from the escalation of war-preparedness among NATO states, but perhaps his greatest advantage lies in the opportunity it presents to expand his power at home.

If NATO governments are all telling their publics to prepare for war, then Trump has the justification to implement extraordinary powers — he can point to allies as proof that America too must enter a state of emergency. The narrative practically writes itself: the country is under threat, elections must wait, unity must be enforced, dissent must be contained. And the security infrastructure that’s being built in preparation for the Olympics would give him a ready-made framework to extend surveillance, deploy forces domestically, and justify extraordinary controls under the cover of protecting the nation. Trump could rule as a “wartime president”, presenting himself as the only leader strong enough to steer the country through a crisis. The longer the fear abroad persists, the deeper he can dig in — without ever needing a battlefield victory.

We’ve already had a glimpse of how this could play out. This month, Trump has ordered U.S. forces to strike vessels in the Caribbean that he alleged were smuggling drugs from Venezuela. Four boats have now been destroyed and at least seventeen people killed — Trump released footage of two of the strikes as proof. Yet at no point has the administration provided evidence that any of the vessels were carrying narcotics or weapons. The legal basis for the strikes remains murky under both U.S. and international law, and several experts have called them extrajudicial killings.

What is most striking, though, is the silence that has followed. There has been no serious pushback from Congress, no sustained outcry from allies, and no real challenge from international institutions. A president has used the U.S. military to kill civilians at sea on unproven grounds, and the world has largely let it pass. That silence is as telling as the strikes themselves. It looks less like a counter-narcotics operation and more like a test — probing how far Trump can go without challenge, and how much the world is willing to let pass unchecked.

The danger from all of this lies in pinning our hopes on the election cycle. Many of us are holding on for the mid-terms in 2026 or the presidential election in 2028, hoping these dates might deliver relief. But if Trump can frame the nation as being at war — even without a single shot fired on American soil — we cannot assume elections will necessarily arrive on schedule.

That is why I believe we need to adjust our horizon .

It could be shortsighted to continue as if the only test of our endurance is making it through to the next election. What is unfolding globally suggests that we may need to hold through a much longer horizon of instability, one that could touch all of us in different ways. If we do not prepare ourselves — mentally, emotionally, physically — to withstand that pressure, we risk burning out before the real tests even arrive.

Moving Forward

From here, I’m going to focus on helping us all prepare for the long haul — building what I think of as “resilient resistance” (which will be the name of this specific newsletter under the Your Time Starts Now banner). This is not about direct action and boycotts — there are other writers far better equipped to offer you strategies in that direction. It’s about laying the groundwork that allows us to endure: protecting our mental and physical health, sustaining our energy, and caring for ourselves and each other when pressure mounts.

We’ll be looking into the relationship between stress and anxiety in the context of political activism — and moving into the realms of burnout. Specifically, I’ll be sharing how I've learned to forestall burnout when stress is unrelenting and inescapable.

We’ll follow a step-by-step process: first comes understanding, then we apply the tools to help us move forward. Reducing our mental load, reclaiming our focus, managing — or healthily channeling — our feelings of fear, anxiety, outrage and even despair.

The official name for the understanding element is “psychoeducation” — it explains how stress, fear, and uncertainty affect our minds and bodies, and why managing them is essential if we are to stay physically and emotionally well, and able to think and act with sound judgement. Research shows we are far more likely to practise new habits when we understand why they matter and how they work.

And make no mistake, this will require practice. There is no magic pill we can swallow to make all of this disappear, and new habits don’t take root by reading about them alone. But know that I’ll be walking each step alongside you — because I’ve realised just how vulnerable I am too, and that my own current practices are not enough to carry me through this uncertain future.

We’ll be moving through some uncharted territory, but I’ll be drawing from both my qualifications and extensive further study in psychology, so wherever possible this will be evidence-based. But it’s not all textbook study: I too have navigated overwhelming anxiety and fear. Looking back, I've come to realise that I have also personally experienced burnout — and I’ve been skirting its edges for at least a decade. That means I not only have professional grounding but also lived experience to share. Because — most importantly — I found my own way back from all of it before my studies, so I know what it takes to stop chronic stress from tipping us over that edge.

As I’ll be writing very much with my professional hat on, the tone may shift a little here — less like a newsletter, and more like moving through a guided series. And I aim to move from long-form, self-contained essays to shorter posts, taking things a step at a time. My hope is that these will be easier for you to take in, while respecting your time, attention, and energy at a moment when all three are under strain.

Finally, I've never been comfortable profiting from other people’s hardship — especially when it may be difficult for them to find this level of support and experience elsewhere. I know this is the opposite of the way the world works, but most of what I share here will remain free for everyone. But sometimes, I’ll create additional resources for premium subscribers, as a way of thanking those who make this work sustainable. Quite simply, I couldn’t do this without you — your backing allows me to give my time and energy to this work, and in doing so, make it available to all. And that feels especially important now, when the pressures around us keep mounting and the path ahead looks so uncertain.

I believe that here — together — we can build the steadiness we’ll need to withstand whatever comes. By protecting our energy, steadying our minds, and caring for each other in practical ways, then we can endure, even through the most difficult times. And on the weekend, I’ll share something more personal and uplifting: how a spiritual experience over twenty years ago shaped my understanding that this time would come, and how it might help us find a different compass for what lies ahead. It’s a story I’ve carried quietly for two decades, and I believe now is the time to share it.

In solidarity, as ever

Lori