Russia’s New Nuclear Doctrine: Putin’s Silent Admission of His Own Fear

 

Russia's new nuclear policy is like wrapping rotten fish in fine silk—glitzy on the outside, but reeking of decay beneath. In plain English, Putin is like a magician whose trick is so worn out that even the front-row spectators see the wires.

When a bear growls too much, sooner or later, it gets tired or someone shuts it up. Vladimir Putin's latest revisions to Russia's nuclear policy sound much like that bear—all roar, no real bite. The amended doctrine that lowers the threshold for a nuclear response is nothing but empty noise. No one knows better than Putin himself that if he makes the fatal mistake of deploying nuclear weapons in Ukraine, it will spell the end of his regime. Period.

Putin’s supposed change to his nuclear policy, where any attack backed by a nuclear-capable nation could trigger a nuclear response, is more of a smoke-and-mirrors tactic than a legitimate warning. If one takes a closer look, it seems to be a desperate move, attempting to mask his fears of losing conventional ground in Ukraine. It’s like waving a gun in a crowded room, hoping everyone will back off, but without ever intending to pull the trigger. History has shown us that countries who wield nuclear threats carelessly often find themselves isolated, and isolation is the last thing Putin needs. With a sputtering economy and his circle of allies diminishing, Russia simply cannot afford the consequences of a nuclear war.

Since the beginning of the invasion in February 2022, Putin has repeatedly threatened the use of nuclear weapons—a rhetoric clearly intended to instill fear and maintain some semblance of control over Ukraine and the West. But it's a move we've seen time and again, a mere posturing that mirrors the Cold War era, when nuclear threats were tossed around like a game of chess. Except, now, the world is less inclined to fall for such antics. As Mariana Budjeryn of Harvard's Belfer Center aptly put it, Russia's revised doctrine allows for a nuclear response not just to threats to its very survival, but to threats against its sovereignty. It's a vague term that can mean anything—a broad stroke of ambiguity that Putin can paint in any color he chooses.

But make no mistake, Putin knows this is dangerous territory. He knows full well that the first use of a nuclear weapon would set off a domino effect that no one could control. The minute Russia releases a nuclear strike, Ukraine wouldn't be the only responder. The United States, NATO, and a plethora of global powers would instantly move to put an end to his regime—not just through diplomatic isolation, but possibly through direct military intervention. And for someone who has worked meticulously to maintain an image of invincibility at home, that would be catastrophic. Even the hawkish voices within his own government—those who nod approvingly in public—must realize that the Russian people will not support a leader who brings about their annihilation.

The firing of ATACMS missiles by Ukraine into Russia’s Bryansk region adds fuel to the fire, no doubt. With a maximum range of 190 miles, these missiles are not to be taken lightly. Yet, rather than react rationally, Putin chooses to amend his nuclear policy as if saying, “Touch me and I’ll go nuclear.” It’s a tired act, one that neither intimidates Ukraine nor deters its Western allies. Oleksandra Ustinova, a Ukrainian parliamentarian, hit the nail on the head by calling Putin a bully. She knows, and many others do, that bullies often crumble when they're called out on their threats.

There’s a striking historical parallel here with Nikita Khrushchev during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Khrushchev too, roared and flaunted nuclear threats, but eventually blinked when the reality of mutual destruction sank in. He retreated, not out of fear, but out of the understanding that pushing the button would mean both annihilation and loss of power. In Putin’s case, he must realize that a nuclear strike would not bring victory, but destruction—not just of Russia, but of his carefully constructed legacy. As they say in Russia, “Do not dig a hole for others, lest you fall in it yourself.” If Putin were to use nuclear weapons, that hole would be his own political grave.

Moreover, recent Western intelligence and commentary suggest that Putin’s threats have not made the intended impact. The international community—from Washington to Berlin—has called his bluff. NATO forces are on alert, but no one is scaling back their support for Ukraine. On the contrary, more nations have doubled down on providing military aid to Kyiv. This signals a clear message: the West is no longer scared of Putin's bluster. His threats are losing their edge, much like a knife that’s seen too much wear without sharpening.

A deeper dive into the mindset of Putin’s military also reveals a significant internal friction. Russian commanders, while committed to executing Putin's orders, are wary of pushing the nuclear button. They know that while conventional warfare can be brutal, the moment a nuclear weapon is deployed, they cross a line that cannot be uncrossed. Generals who have families, land, and a future to think about must be questioning the sanity of any order to launch nuclear weapons—especially for a war that has not only stalled but has seen Ukrainian forces steadily pushing Russian troops back.

Putin’s nuclear saber-rattling also does little to help his diplomatic standing. The Chinese government, a supposed ally, has repeatedly cautioned against the use of nuclear weapons. President Xi Jinping is unlikely to support a move that would throw the world into chaos—something that could destabilize China’s own economic and political interests. Similarly, India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi has made it clear, albeit diplomatically, that nuclear escalation is a red line. Putin, therefore, finds himself increasingly alone in this dangerous game of brinkmanship.

The idea that Putin would actually press the nuclear button is almost laughable when considering the backlash it would provoke inside Russia itself. Russians remember the horrors of Chernobyl, and the mere thought of nuclear fallout—whether from a weapon or an accident—is a nightmare. The oligarchs who prop up Putin’s regime also have interests beyond Russian borders—their wealth, homes, and families are scattered across Europe and the United States. A nuclear escalation would not only threaten their wealth but would also guarantee sanctions and seizures that could leave them destitute. It’s hard to see these power brokers sitting idly by while Putin destroys the very system that allows them to thrive.

Putin’s latest move to amend Russia’s nuclear doctrine is an act of desperation, one designed to cloak his failures in Ukraine with a veil of threat. But that veil is wearing thin. He knows that actually using nuclear weapons would mean the swift end of his reign. His threats are not only a sign of weakness but an acknowledgment that conventional warfare is slipping from his grasp. He’s trying to hold onto power with fear, yet fear is a fickle thing—it can turn against you faster than a striking snake.

If Putin really believes he can hold the world hostage with his nuclear rhetoric, he’s sadly mistaken. No one—not NATO, not Ukraine, not even his closest allies—takes his threats at face value anymore. He's like the man who yells “wolf” one too many times—eventually, everyone stops listening. The world is calling his bluff, and if he's foolish enough to act on his threats, he might just find that the bear that growled too much ends up muzzled, chained, or worse—skinned. After all, as the Russian proverb goes, "He who digs a pit for others will surely fall into it." And if Putin digs deep enough, he might just find that it’s his own regime buried in that pit—with no one left to mourn.

 

Like Dorothy vs. the Wizard: Ukraine Shows Putin’s RS-26 Threats Are All Bark and No Bite

 

The Wizard of Oz promised magical solutions from behind his curtain; similarly, Putin is doing the same with the RS-26—his 'powerful' missile is nothing but a hollow scarecrow meant to frighten rather than to truly deliver. Just as Dorothy used a simple bucket of water to defeat the seemingly invincible Witch, Ukraine's resilience and Western support have proven that the 'mighty' Russian threats can be neutralized with sheer courage and determination. 

Putin's new missile threat is, once again, a noisy bark from behind the curtain—a lot of thunder, but not much lightning. With a new warning of the RS-26 intercontinental ballistic missile being aimed at Kyiv, Russia wants the world, especially Ukraine, to tremble. But is this the devastating blow it claims to be, or is it simply another hollow scare tactic meant to intimidate and distract? Like the Wizard in Oz, Putin seems to conjure powerful imagery with fiery threats, but look a bit closer, and the illusions quickly begin to unravel.

The RS-26 missile—being portrayed as a phantom menace poised to cripple Ukraine’s capital—is said to travel at five times the speed of sound. It sounds impressive, but let's not forget that it's still a tool of war, just like countless others in the Russian arsenal. Weapons, after all, don't possess magical powers; their efficiency depends on factors like precision, deployment, and response. The RS-26 is no exception. Despite all the fanfare, the Western-supplied missile defenses in Ukraine, such as the Patriot missile systems, have proven to be an ongoing thorn in Russia's side, neutralizing many threats launched by Moscow. The RS-26's alleged speed makes it challenging to shoot down, but hardly impossible—military history is full of "unstoppable" weapons that turned out to be anything but.

On Wednesday, when Ukraine reportedly struck a command post in Kursk with British Storm Shadow missiles and hit Bryansk with American ATACMS, it demonstrated that Russia's so-called “untouchable” borders are anything but invincible. Putin's retaliation talk seems to follow a well-worn script—threaten Kyiv in response to Western weapon usage, posture with grandiose rhetoric, and paint Ukraine as aggressors. This reaction is nothing new. And yet, despite all these threats, daily life in Kyiv continues. People still stroll the streets with headphones on, parents still escort their children to school, and baristas still make lattes, unshaken by yet another promise of catastrophe.

History tends to repeat itself, and this situation with Putin is no different from the blustering moments of the Cold War when leaders threatened nuclear destruction but were ultimately restrained by the looming reality of mutually assured destruction. The RS-26 is being painted as a game-changer, but is it? The Wizard of Oz promised powerful magic too, until Dorothy pulled back the curtain. Putin’s supposed trump card doesn’t look very different. For all the rhetoric, the missile is ultimately a piece of technology susceptible to human error, countermeasures, and the complexities of real combat scenarios.

Take a moment to think of Dorothy and the Wizard. When Dorothy confronted the Wizard, expecting an all-powerful figure, she found an ordinary man hiding behind levers and smoke. The “Wizard” was a construct of fear and illusion. Putin’s new RS-26 missile is very much the same—a construct meant to terrify, to make Kyiv bow down and the world panic. But Dorothy didn’t bow. Armed with just a bucket of water, she defeated the real danger—the Wicked Witch of the West. This act, simple yet brave, reminds us that courage and resourcefulness have always been the best tools against intimidation and deceit. Ukraine, with its resilience, is very much in Dorothy's shoes, armed not with buckets but with international support and unwavering resolve.

Putin’s military analyst Timur Syrlanov claims Ukrainians should be “trembling” at the prospect of the RS-26 being deployed. But here's the reality: Ukrainians have endured, resisted, and continued with their lives amid bombardments, sirens, and daily threats since February 2022. The same missile system that is supposed to instill fear is being rolled out while Kyiv residents navigate their day-to-day, unfazed. There’s a proverb that says, “A barking dog never bites,” and with each passing threat, it becomes clear that the RS-26 might be more bark than bite—a desperate attempt to maintain an illusion of overwhelming power, even as the cracks begin to show.

Consider the embassies that closed in Kyiv following these threats—the United States, Greece, Italy, Spain, all shuttering operations in anticipation of a “massive airstrike.” The closures are a serious show of concern, but perhaps more indicative of caution rather than genuine belief in an imminent apocalypse. The very next day, life in Kyiv resumed. People rode the metro, children attended school, and a girls' dance class even performed in a basement bomb shelter for World Children’s Day. This resilience, this commitment to living despite the threats, is the true power that no RS-26 or Iskander missile can shatter.

False messages about 317 radio-controlled strike drones spread throughout Ukraine, and people sheltered, anticipating another massive attack—only for it to turn out to be a “false flag.” These tactics are meant to disorient and terrorize, to keep the population in a state of perpetual anxiety. Yet, for a populace that has faced nearly 1,370 air raid alerts in Kyiv alone, the resolve doesn’t weaken. If anything, the Ukrainian spirit echoes the determination of Dorothy—undaunted by the illusions and unbroken by the intimidation.

And here we see the real story. Putin’s threats—whether they involve the RS-26, Iskanders, or even the notion of a nuclear strike—are not unlike the Wizard’s exaggerated threats from behind the curtain. They are designed to make the target feel small, helpless, and overwhelmed. But the truth is, the RS-26 missile, touted as a harbinger of destruction, is just another piece on the chessboard of warfare. It doesn’t wield any mythical power that can subjugate a population whose spirit refuses to be broken.

The RS-26 weighs 50 tons and carries a warhead supposedly three times larger than the Iskander. These are numbers meant to impress, to frighten, to draw headlines. But the history of warfare is filled with examples of seemingly invincible weapons meeting their match. From the over-hyped V-2 rockets of World War II, which were supposed to bring Britain to its knees, to the “super” tanks that could be stopped by a resourceful foot soldier with a well-placed grenade, it’s clear that weaponry alone doesn’t decide the outcome. It’s the resilience of people, the ingenuity in response, and the steadfastness against fear that decide outcomes.

In this instance, Russia’s attempt to portray its new missile as an unmatched weapon of terror seems to be more about image than reality. The RS-26, like other much-hyped weapons, relies heavily on the narrative of invincibility. When that narrative is stripped away—like pulling back the Wizard’s curtain—all that remains is a missile, subject to all the same uncertainties and vulnerabilities as any other. The irony is, by brandishing this missile, Putin exposes his desperation more than his strength, akin to the Wizard using smoke and mirrors while desperately hiding his true impotence.

It is essential to understand the psychology behind Putin’s threats. The aim is not merely military; it’s psychological warfare. The point is to create fear, not just within Ukraine, but internationally. The moment countries like Italy, Spain, and Greece close their embassies in Kyiv, Putin's objective is partly achieved—he wants to make Ukraine look like a dangerous, uninhabitable place. Yet, the Ukrainian people are demonstrating that their spirit cannot be so easily crushed. Like Dorothy facing the imposing Wizard, Ukraine stands firm, not allowing itself to be cowed by threats from behind a curtain.

There is also a historical precedent that bears recalling here. During the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, the world witnessed a dangerous standoff where nuclear threats loomed large. Khrushchev’s posturing and Kennedy’s firm yet cautious response showcased a game of chicken that almost led to global disaster. Yet, the key takeaway is that both parties eventually recognized the futility of escalating such threats to their logical conclusion. Today, Putin’s missile threats echo Khrushchev’s; they are meant to project power rather than use it. The bluff worked for Khrushchev—for a while—until the world saw through the posturing, just as it is beginning to see through Putin’s own.

The threat of a missile like the RS-26 may indeed be real. Its power to destroy should not be trivialized, but let’s not pretend it has the power to break Ukraine’s will. Russia’s missile tests and deployment threats are not new—whether it’s the RS-26 or its other arsenal, the playbook remains the same: escalate, intimidate, then threaten the direst consequences. And yet, with each passing day, Ukraine remains standing, showing the resilience of a people who have learned not to flinch when the Wizard’s voice booms over the speakers.

So here we are, with Putin behind his curtain, throwing out threats like candy at a parade, hoping to dazzle and terrify. But every time Kyiv wakes up to another day, every time a dance class performs in a bomb shelter, or a barista makes a latte while air raid sirens blare, it becomes clearer that Russia’s RS-26 is not the ultimate end-all that the Kremlin would have us believe. It’s just another page in the story, another lever pulled by a man behind a curtain who wants to be seen as invincible but is slowly being exposed for what he truly is—just another Wizard who’s all show and no substance.

And maybe, just maybe, all it takes to bring down the illusions of a wizard is not a bigger bomb or a faster missile but simply the courage to confront the show for what it is, with nothing more than a bucket of water and an unwavering spirit. Now wouldn’t that just make for the perfect ending? Too bad Putin hasn’t read the script.

Confidence: The Catalyst That Transforms Competence into a Legend

 

Confidence is a beacon that draws others in, an unspoken power that lifts the capable from obscurity to prominence—when wielded with skill, it transforms the ordinary into legends. In plain English, Boldness alone can win hearts, but it takes competence to conquer minds. Together, they make a force that reshapes destinies and redefines what is possible.

Confidence can turn a whisper into a rallying cry, transforming indecision into a surge of momentum. Imagine if Winston Churchill had said, "We might resist on the beaches, weather permitting." History would likely have taken a drastically different turn. Confidence, it turns out, isn't just a mood; it’s a force, a magnet that pulls people together, often tilting the scales in favor of those who dare to declare their certainty. It inspires, it mobilizes, and yes—it even crowns leaders with an aura of status. But here’s the catch: without competence, confidence is little more than a gilded bluff, and without confidence, competence is often rendered voiceless.

Take, for instance, Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelensky. When Russia's invasion rattled the world, he chose not to flee but instead to step onto the global stage with profound certainty. He declared, "The fight is here; I need ammunition, not a ride." Such words encapsulate what makes confidence contagious. Zelensky's unwavering stance inspired millions, from Ukrainian soldiers to foreign allies, turning his conviction into an anchor for resistance and resilience. This is the power of confidence when paired with competence—a combination that can uplift entire nations and spark collective action.

On the other side of this coin lies confidence without competence—an enticing yet ultimately hollow facade. It’s the CEO who makes an overconfident acquisition, only to see its value unravel. Research by Ulrike Malmendier and Geoffrey Tate found that overconfident CEOs often chase acquisitions, with little regard for objective valuation, believing themselves to be exceptional judges of worth. They are more averse to seeking external financing, fearing their company is misunderstood or undervalued, but this hubris often leads to questionable business decisions that destroy value instead of building it. The same echoes in politics; bombastic leaders whose rhetoric inspires temporarily but falters without the competence to deliver results eventually find themselves at the mercy of public disillusionment.

Yet, it’s not always the overconfident individuals that falter; it’s also the hesitant, the capable but unsure, who shrink into the background, deprived of the opportunities they could easily command. Competence without confidence tends to impose invisible limits. Many talented individuals prefer the quiet reliability of their own skills, not realizing that visibility and opportunity are a package deal, delivered most often to those who seize the moment with unwavering certainty. The paradox here is tragic—talent shrouded in hesitation remains hidden, while talent that is amplified by confidence often commands applause.

A fascinating study by Cameron Anderson at the University of California, Berkeley, explored this phenomenon through the lens of overconfidence among MBA students. Participants were asked if they recognized a variety of famous names—some real, some fabricated. Those who feigned familiarity with "Bonnie Prince Lorenzo" or "Windemere Wild" were often the ones who ended up commanding greater influence among their peers by the end of the term. It’s clear that the perception of knowledge—even when it is fabricated—can carry power, bestowing influence on those who dare to seem knowledgeable, even in ignorance.

The impact of confidence can even be seen in the corporate ladder’s well-documented bias towards those who appear assertive and assured. The study by Finnish academics Terhi Maczulskij and Jutta Viinikainen reveals a telling relationship between personality traits and entrepreneurial success in Finland. Self-confidence, it turns out, is often the differentiator between those who launch successful ventures and those who keep their ideas wrapped in cautious silence. The message is clear: the marketplace doesn’t just reward competence, it also rewards the confidence that makes competence visible.

And when it comes to the battlefield of global politics, a person like Zelensky embodies that rare blend of boldness and skill. His background as an entertainer, a figure many wrote off initially as lacking the gravitas for leadership, became his unlikely source of strength. The theater gave him an audience, and the confidence he wielded on stage translated seamlessly into leading a nation under siege. His speeches, delivered not as carefully crafted diplomatic scripts but as impassioned calls for solidarity, resonated across borders. This is the embodiment of what Nathanael Fast of the University of Southern California discovered: confidence creates feedback loops. Once it’s rewarded—once a person feels validated by their success—they trust in their abilities even more, thus continuing a cycle of boldness and reward.

Of course, it’s important to acknowledge that excessive self-assuredness, left unchecked, can be disastrous. There’s no better symbol of this than overconfident Wall Street bankers leading up to the 2008 financial crash, armed with the unwavering belief that they could defy economic laws. They gambled heavily on complex financial instruments, driven by the mistaken belief that they could beat the system. The results were catastrophic, leaving behind a scar in economic history. This shows that while confidence draws followers and commands influence, it must be anchored in the realm of reality and capability.

For every hero of confidence, there are those whose stories serve as cautionary tales. Guoli Chen of INSEAD and his co-authors demonstrated in their study how overconfident CEOs were slower to adjust their earnings forecasts when proven wrong, illustrating a stubbornness that often outstays reason. Overconfident individuals are not just prone to mistakes; they are prone to the persistence of their mistakes, unwilling to let go of the convictions that led them astray.

Yet, we cannot overlook how vital confidence is in motivating human potential, even if it occasionally leads us down a wayward path. One intriguing study by Joris Lammers at the University of Cologne demonstrates the tangible difference confidence can make. Participants primed to think about moments when they had power performed better in mock interviews, with more persuasive cover letters and better in-person presentations. Confidence, then, doesn’t just change how others see us—it changes how we see ourselves and how we perform.

One might say that in the ideal world, confidence would match competence in equal measure, a perfectly calibrated force to push forward those who deserve it. But the truth is that we live in an imperfect world, where charisma often overtakes content, and where loudness sometimes replaces logic. That’s why it’s imperative for society, for organizations, and for individuals, to recognize and encourage competence while also understanding the inextricable value of confidence.

History reminds us time and again of leaders whose audacious self-belief allowed them to bend the course of events. Churchill himself once said, "Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm." Confidence can be blind; it can overstep and tumble into arrogance. Yet when paired with skill, it becomes transformative. The caution, then, is not against confidence itself but against blind confidence—confidence without the backing of substance.

Ultimately, confidence is like a glittering crown—it can make you stand tall, attract the admiration of crowds, and place you in the spotlight. But without competence, it’s merely an empty decoration, bound to slip off when reality shakes its wearer. On the other hand, competence, though steady, is too often found standing alone in the shadows. It’s only when the two meet—confidence infused with competence—that real power emerges.

So, the next time someone declares, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” remember that the loudest voice in the room may not always be the most capable. Still, in a world that often mistakes certainty for correctness, we must admit: confidence wins people over. Just be wary of the emperor without his clothes—after all, it’s only a matter of time before he gets a drafty surprise.

Digging His Own Grave: Putin’s Houthis Partnership as His Last Mistake

 

Putin's reckless alliance with the Houthis is not an act of defiance, but a desperate cry for the West to finally put him out of his misery—one missile at a time. In plain English, aligning with the Houthis is Putin's loudest declaration yet that he is out of strategic ideas, and the West should gladly take this as his invitation for a crushing response.

The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend—especially when that enemy is busy making mistakes that offer a golden opportunity to topple them. Vladimir Putin, perhaps in his most desperate gambit yet, has decided to put his hand in the troubled waters of the Red Sea. By siding with the Iran-backed Houthis, a group notorious for targeting key shipping lanes and threatening regional stability, Putin is unwittingly sending a gift to the West—an opportunity to bring him down once and for all.

The news of Putin's frustrations over President Biden's recent authorization for Ukraine to strike inside Russia using U.S.-supplied long-range missiles is spreading quickly, and for good reason. This bold move by Biden is likely driving Putin's fresh alliance with the Houthis, a group that has already been on shaky ground with the international community. The Houthis, for years, have had a reputation for their missile and drone attacks, often targeting Saudi Arabia and threatening international shipping routes crucial to the global economy. Now, with Putin openly offering support, Russia is taking its chaos-exporting playbook to new waters—literally.

It is hard not to see the irony: Putin, who frequently scolds Western countries for meddling in affairs beyond their borders, has plunged headfirst into a regional conflict that could have consequences beyond the Red Sea. By aligning himself with the Houthis, he is not only inviting a confrontation with Western powers but also committing a strategic blunder that might be his undoing. The Red Sea, after all, is no ordinary body of water; it is a key artery for global commerce, through which 10% of the world's trade passes. Any disruption there doesn’t just hurt one country—it affects almost every nation, making it everyone’s problem, especially for those who have a vested interest in free and secure maritime routes.

The history of the Houthis’ rise is already a troubling tale. Originating from Yemen, the Houthi movement initially started as a group protesting marginalization. However, over time, they became notorious for their alliances with Iran, targeting Saudi Arabia with ballistic missiles, and causing one of the worst humanitarian crises in modern history. Adding Putin to this toxic mix does not just worsen an already tragic conflict; it turns the Red Sea into a geopolitical tinderbox ready to ignite. It might have been a calculated move for Putin, a way to get back at Biden and the West, but it's also a misstep that gives Western leaders a legitimate reason to take collective action against Russia's interference.

A proverb comes to mind here: "When digging a pit for your enemy, be careful not to fall into it yourself." Putin, by enabling the Houthis to intensify their aggression, is essentially digging his own geopolitical grave. By placing Russia’s weight behind the Houthis, he is risking further isolation from the international community, which has already had enough of his adventures in Ukraine. For Putin, who has continuously tried to project himself as a strategic genius, this move reveals something else: a reckless abandon that seems to suggest he is running out of ideas—and out of allies.

The Red Sea is also strategically vital for the United States and its allies, including European powers and regional actors like Saudi Arabia and Egypt. These countries cannot afford to let Putin and the Houthis destabilize such a crucial maritime route. Western nations, already on edge due to the war in Ukraine, now face a challenge in the Red Sea that directly affects global trade and energy supplies. With Putin essentially pushing his chips into the Middle Eastern pot, he may have underestimated just how serious the response might be.

President Biden’s decision to allow Ukraine to strike deep into Russian territory is a game-changer. It not only escalates the conflict but also reveals the extent to which the United States is willing to go to support Ukraine and pressure Russia. Frustrated by these developments, Putin’s alliance with the Houthis reeks of desperation—a dangerous, unpredictable move by a leader with limited options. While the Kremlin may see this as a way to spread Western resources thin, it could easily backfire. This reckless act gives the United States and its allies a prime opportunity to finally "fix" the Putin problem.

By threatening the safety of the Red Sea, Putin is essentially begging for a unified Western response. If merchant ships come under fire, if global trade is disrupted, or if oil tankers are threatened, the justification for collective action will be there on a silver platter. Already, U.S. naval forces are increasing their presence in the region, while allies are considering measures to ensure the Houthis’ aggression is contained. Putin might have hoped to use the Houthis as a tool for leverage, but in reality, he has provided the West with the perfect rationale to increase pressure on Russia—not just economically, but militarily if needed.

The West has made mistakes before, often missing critical opportunities to act decisively against authoritarian leaders. However, this is not the time to be indecisive. Putin's actions in the Red Sea are not just another instance of meddling; they are a direct attack on the very principles that keep global trade and diplomacy functioning. If Western nations let this slide, they would essentially be signaling that Putin can do whatever he wants without facing consequences. On the other hand, taking decisive action now—whether by providing even more advanced weaponry to Ukraine, imposing tougher sanctions on Russia, or increasing military patrols in the Red Sea—could mark the beginning of the end for Putin's long reign of chaos.

One cannot help but think of other strongmen in history who overstayed their welcome on the world stage—leaders who thought they were invincible until they weren't. Whether it was Napoleon overextending his campaigns or Saddam Hussein provoking the ire of a global coalition, the pattern is clear: overreach leads to downfall. Putin’s involvement with the Houthis may well be his moment of overreach. He is giving the West every reason they need to come together and act, and this time, they should not miss the chance.

Putin may not know it, but by helping the Houthis lob missiles at merchant ships in the Red Sea, he is indeed digging his grave. He is giving the West a golden opportunity to nail him—to ensure that his brand of reckless adventurism is finally brought to an end. And America, alongside its allies, must see this as the final solution to the Russia problem. For years, the West has been playing catch-up, reacting to Putin’s moves rather than anticipating them. But now, with Putin’s latest gamble in the Red Sea, it’s time to change the script.

A desperate man does desperate things, and Putin's support for the Houthis is exactly that—a desperate move by a leader running out of cards to play. The world has seen this story before, and it rarely ends well for those who believe they can defy international norms indefinitely. If Putin thinks that aligning with a group of militants will somehow keep him in power, he might want to revisit his history books—or better yet, read his own obituary draft, written not by his friends, but by his own hand, one Houthi missile at a time.

 

Biden Grows a Backbone: How Biden's ATACMS Approval Could Make Putin the Laughingstock of Europe

 

President Biden's authorization to let Ukraine strike deep within Russian territory is the first real step toward ending Putin's reign of terror and exposing his fragile military as the paper tiger it truly is. It's time Ukraine flipped the script: With Biden's authorization, the oppressed are becoming the aggressors, and it's Putin's turn to taste the devastation he has caused for far too long.

They say fortune favors the bold, and President Joe Biden's recent move proves that sometimes a lion has to roar. Authorizing Ukraine to use U.S.-supplied long-range missiles to strike deep within Russian territory is perhaps the boldest decision Biden has made during his presidency, shedding his historically cautious approach to foreign policy. It is a declaration that enough is enough—a stance that could shake up the geopolitical chessboard, in a world already tired of Vladimir Putin’s stale tricks.

When Biden announced the removal of restrictions on Army Tactical Missile Systems (ATACMS), he effectively handed Ukraine a ticket to stop fighting with one hand tied behind its back. Until now, Ukraine’s military had to make do with short-range strikes and limited offensives, waiting on Western allies to decide how much help was too much. The newly provided ATACMS, capable of striking targets far beyond the front lines, promise to escalate the fight in a way that Russia will not be able to ignore—nor counter easily. It's clear Biden has decided that this is no time for half measures. ATACMS will allow Ukrainian forces to strike critical Russian military assets, including those in and around Kursk, where North Korea’s newly deployed forces have settled in. Putin’s murmurings of escalation in response to the ATACMS authorization amount to nothing but what we should call the "rattle of ants"—a loud but insignificant threat.

Let’s not forget that for months, Biden resisted calls to provide these long-range capabilities. Fears about the so-called escalation ladder held back his administration, keeping them from fully supporting Ukrainian forces. The concerns included a limited stockpile of ATACMS and Russia’s repositioning of crucial assets beyond the reach of the Ukrainian forces. However, recent events seem to have dispelled the doubts that previously plagued Biden’s approach. Perhaps it was North Korea’s decision to deploy thousands of soldiers to aid Russia—a move that could potentially signal an expansion of the war—that finally pushed Biden to take the shackles off.

And what’s the reward for restraint? A barrage of Russian missiles, launched over the weekend, killed at least seven Ukrainians and shattered what was left of Ukraine's power infrastructure. To say that Putin has not made good on his threats to Ukraine would be a gross understatement. His aggression has been ongoing and consistent—he has plundered, killed, and maimed without remorse. Perhaps it’s time he received a taste of his own medicine.

The ATACMS authorization doesn’t just send a message to Russia, it sends a clear directive to the rest of the world. Other nations should take note and consider making similar moves. France, Germany, and the United Kingdom have all stood by Ukraine in this crisis, but the recent U.S. move begs the question—will they too step up and remove restrictions on offensive weapons systems? Perhaps it is time the EU matched its rhetoric with weapons that can truly make a difference. This isn’t just a fight for Ukrainian sovereignty anymore. It’s a fight for global norms, for the very principles of national sovereignty and international order.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump, the President-elect, has promised to limit support to Ukraine, vowing to end the conflict at all costs. Trump’s impending policy shift could potentially jeopardize everything Ukraine has fought for so far. $175 billion of U.S. support to Ukraine, a staggering sum that has been crucial in keeping the Ukrainian defense alive against Russian advances, may suddenly find itself on the chopping block. Biden’s bold move to authorize ATACMS could be seen as his last push before the political tides shift and the winds of support begin to blow in a different direction. But even if Biden's term is almost over, he's making sure his stance is unequivocally clear—support Ukraine, strike Russia where it hurts, and let Putin reap what he’s sown.

Historically, Ukraine has been in this position before. From the Mongol invasions to the horrors of the Holodomor, the Ukrainian people have withstood outside interference and attempted subjugation. Putin’s aggression is just the latest chapter in a long book of attempted domination. This time, however, Ukraine is fighting with modern tools, not the spears of a bygone era. The ATACMS could mark a turning point, giving Ukraine a means of counterattack that may finally bring the conflict to a decisive, favorable conclusion.

What’s even more pressing is the influence of outside players in this conflict. North Korea has now decided to add its weight to the scales, deploying troops to Russia's Kursk region. The implications of this are staggering. Not only does it mean an expansion of Putin's war coalition, but it also demonstrates how emboldened Russia’s allies are becoming. From Iran's supply of drones to North Korea's deployment of soldiers, the roster of rogue states openly aiding Russia grows longer. This tells us one thing: the West must act with even greater resolve. If dictatorships band together to wage war, democracies must answer in kind—swiftly and decisively.

And then, of course, there are Putin’s threats. They range from vague intimations of nuclear escalation to overt promises of “unpredictable consequences” for the West. The problem is, no one takes Putin seriously anymore. He’s cried wolf too many times. He has puffed out his chest, postured, rattled his sabers, and yet, he has been forced into embarrassing retreats more than once. It’s almost poetic, the way the world has seen through his bluster and reduced his apocalyptic threats to mere background noise. “The rattle of ants” indeed—noise that is irritating but ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

The authorization for long-range strikes into Russia isn’t just a military strategy—it's a statement. It’s a statement that the free world will not bow to threats from tyrants. If anything, the escalation from Russia and its allies signals desperation, a sense of impending doom that even Putin must feel deep down. Authorizing ATACMS sends a strong message that the time for cautious diplomacy is over; now is the time for results, for action, for humiliating Putin and showing him that his atrocities come with a price.

As for Putin, well, it seems he’s been riding a horse that’s about to throw him off. His dreams of resurrecting the Soviet empire are crumbling faster than he can concoct new plans. There’s a proverb that says, "When you go hunting elephants, be sure you don't become the prey." Putin went hunting for Ukraine, thinking it would be an easy target. But in his arrogance, he underestimated the resilience of the Ukrainian people, the unity of Western nations, and now, the bold resolve of Joe Biden. The prey is now turning on the hunter, armed not just with Western weapons, but with the righteous fury of a people wronged.

In the end, this escalation is about survival, honor, and justice. Ukraine fights not just for its territory but for the very right to exist as an independent nation. Biden’s authorization of ATACMS missiles is not the last nail in the coffin for Putin’s war, but it may well be the beginning of the end. For all of Putin’s vaunted strength, for all his promises of nuclear doom, he now faces an opponent bolstered by the most powerful military alliance in history, one that is finally willing to strike deep into the heart of Russian territory. Biden has decided to act like a man; perhaps it’s time other leaders took the cue.

And as for Putin, well, here’s hoping he likes the taste of humble pie—because it's about to be served in generous portions.

 

The Green Delusion: Why Abandoning Fossil Fuels Will Leave Us in the Dark

 

The so-called green revolution is an illusion when we depend on fossil-fueled electricity to power green technologies. Until solar panels and wind turbines can keep factories humming day and night, fossil fuels aren't just an option—they’re a necessity.

It seems we're all being driven by ideals—but perhaps the engine isn't quite built yet. The Biden administration, in partnership with climate enthusiasts across the West, is racing to abandon fossil fuels: gas-powered cars, gas-run factories, and anything that smacks of hydrocarbons—all within a mere decade. It's almost as if fossil fuels are a dragon to be slain, and electric vehicles (EVs) are the knight in shining armor. But behind all the promises, slogans, and political cheers lies an inconvenient truth: fossil fuels are not just a bad habit we need to kick. They are the foundations of our modern world, and we need to be realistic about how we use them while integrating green technologies. Pushing for an all-out shift to 18th and 19th-century "green tech" as a complete substitute is misguided. Instead, fossil fuels and new energy sources need to coexist, creating a bridge that takes us toward a genuinely sustainable future.

When examining the history of energy transitions, one critical point stands out: newer technologies do not simply erase older ones. They complement them, add to them, and help evolve their usage. Take coal, for instance. When it began powering industries during the 19th century, it did not entirely replace traditional windmills and watermills. Instead, it simply offered another source of reliable energy that was crucial for an expanding industrial landscape. As oil entered the scene, coal still played a significant role, especially in energy-dense industries such as steel production. Fast forward to today—renewables are growing, but coal, oil, and gas remain essential. Even in 2023, coal still accounted for 20% of electricity production in the United States, according to data from the U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA). The point here isn’t about resisting change; it’s about recognizing that change takes time, and abandoning one energy source wholesale has consequences. We can innovate, but we must be careful not to disrupt what already works in our fervor for what’s new.

Now let’s talk about electric vehicles, which have become the crown jewel of the green energy narrative. But are they truly as "green" as we want to believe? EVs are often marketed as a clean alternative to internal combustion engines, but their connection to fossil fuels remains largely ignored. As of 2024, over 60% of electricity in the United States still comes from fossil fuels—primarily natural gas and coal. This means that the electricity used to charge the much-touted Tesla or Nissan Leaf may well be coming from a coal-fired power plant. The International Energy Agency (IEA) highlighted this irony in a recent report: while EVs reduce tailpipe emissions, they don't erase the fossil fuel footprint if the grid isn’t clean. This makes EVs a paradox: electric, yes, but only as green as the energy source that powers them.

Moreover, the production of electric vehicles has a dark side that is rarely mentioned. The batteries that power these vehicles rely on minerals like lithium, cobalt, and nickel—resources that are not only limited but also have a significant environmental and human toll. The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) supplies about 70% of the world’s cobalt, a crucial component in lithium-ion batteries. Reports from Amnesty International in 2023 showed that child labor and hazardous working conditions are rampant in these mines. The "green revolution" is indeed coming at a cost, and it’s a cost being borne by the world's poorest and most vulnerable. If this is the price of our so-called clean energy future, perhaps we should rethink our definition of “clean.”

Solar panels and wind turbines are often held up as the solution for all our energy needs, but their limitations are conveniently brushed aside by their advocates. Solar energy only works when the sun is shining, and wind energy only works when the wind is blowing. These are not baseload power sources, and until we figure out large-scale, efficient energy storage—something far from being commercially viable—they cannot replace fossil fuels. Germany, for example, experienced notable instability in its grid after it moved away from nuclear and coal power too hastily. During the winter of 2022, Germany had to reactivate several coal-fired power plants to avoid power shortages. Here lies another paradox: a nation often seen as a green leader was forced to rely on the dirtiest energy source to keep its citizens warm. It seems that in the rush to go green, some essential lessons about energy stability were forgotten.

And then there is nuclear power—a source that is clean, reliable, and incredibly efficient. It could play a crucial role in reducing greenhouse gas emissions while providing stable energy. France serves as a prime example: around 70% of its electricity comes from nuclear power, giving it some of the lowest carbon emissions per capita in Europe. Yet in the United States, nuclear energy has largely been sidelined in favor of wind and solar—technologies that are intermittent at best. Why are we so eager to embrace technologies that we know are unreliable, while ignoring one that has proven its worth for decades?

The Biden administration's ambitious goal of making half of all new vehicles sold by 2030 zero-emissions might sound impressive on paper, but the infrastructure tells a different story. As of 2024, there are approximately 140,000 public EV charging stations in the U.S. Studies suggest that the country will need at least 500,000 to meet the projected demand by 2030. Moreover, the majority of EV charging still happens at home, with residential power that, in many cases, is derived from fossil fuels. The costs of EVs also make them unattainable for many; with the average price hovering around $55,000, EVs are still a luxury that many working-class families simply cannot afford. While we dream of reducing emissions, we also need to ask ourselves if we are creating an economy of energy haves and have-nots. Are we really fighting for a better world if only the wealthy can afford to participate?

California’s recent experience serves as a cautionary tale. In its enthusiasm for green energy, the state faced severe rolling blackouts in 2023. The problem? An overreliance on renewable energy without adequate backup from reliable fossil fuels or nuclear power. Policymakers forgot a crucial element in their rush to appease environmental activists: energy must be available when people need it. Blackouts in the fifth-largest economy in the world are hardly a sign of progress. Instead, they serve as a stark reminder of what happens when ideology trumps practicality.

The reality is that the transition to green energy cannot be rushed without causing major disruptions. Even the International Energy Agency, which is hardly a cheerleader for fossil fuels, acknowledges that oil, gas, and even coal will be necessary components of the global energy mix for decades to come. As of 2023, over 80% of global energy still comes from fossil fuels, and this figure will not drop substantially without both technological breakthroughs and realistic timelines. Fossil fuels are not just an evil to be eradicated; they are a crucial part of our energy strategy. And until renewable sources can provide the same reliability and scalability, we need to keep fossil fuels in the picture.

The Biden administration and other leaders must recognize that our energy future will not be built on exclusion but on integration. We need fossil fuels to support the growth of renewables, not only because they provide stability but because they are still the most efficient way to power heavy industries, shipping, and aviation. The world’s shipping fleets and airplanes cannot run on batteries, at least not for many decades. Ignoring these realities in favor of appeasing environmentalist groups is not just impractical—it’s dangerous.

The dream of a purely green future is compelling, but it must be grounded in reality. What we need is not an ideological crusade but a balanced, pragmatic energy policy. The future is not about choosing between fossil fuels and green technologies but finding a way for them to coexist, collaborate, and evolve together. To borrow an old proverb, "Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater." In our rush to embrace the new, let's not forget the old still has value. The solution lies not in driving blindly towards a single ideal but in recognizing that the road is wide enough for multiple lanes.

So perhaps, instead of a green utopia, what we really need is a practical one—a future where energy is reliable, affordable, and yes, greener. Let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that we can power a modern world with wishful thinking. If we keep pretending that windmills and solar panels are all we need, we may just end up like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, chasing a dream that was never really there.

Gaetz’s Past Is Too Toxic for Senate Approval—Not Even Trump’s Endorsement Can Cleanse It!

The U.S. Senate isn’t about to put a fox in charge of the henhouse, especially when that fox is under suspicion for ethical violations and scandalous behavior like Matt Gaetz. In plain English, appointing Matt Gaetz as attorney general would be like entrusting a recovering arsonist with the keys to the fire department—a dangerous, reckless gamble that the Senate simply won’t make.

When the circus comes to town, you can always count on the clowns to steal the show, and with President Donald Trump's latest round of appointments, there's one name that has everyone leaning in: Congressman Matt Gaetz. It's a bold move—and boldness is something Trump is no stranger to. After all, loyalty is the currency of power, and who better to run the Department of Justice than a loyalist ready to bend his will to Trump? But therein lies the rub. Loyalty is what gets you nominated, but suitability is what gets you confirmed, and therein lies the problem.

The U.S. Senate has been known for its reputation as the chamber of sober second thought, and it seems to be standing by that moniker now more than ever. The appointment of Matt Gaetz as attorney general is a stark reminder of just how far President Trump is willing to go to stack the federal government with loyalists. Gaetz's loyalty to Trump is undeniable—so much so that it sometimes seems to border on fanaticism. However, being a loyal foot soldier doesn't always translate to the qualities expected in a role that demands impartiality and adherence to the law. And the Senate knows it.

It’s not the first time Trump has tried to install a loyalist at the helm of a crucial federal institution. During his first term, we saw similar tactics, with loyal individuals put in positions of power, sometimes with disastrous results. The difference this time is that Gaetz is particularly polarizing, even within his own party. Many Republicans find it hard to endorse his radical approach, which is precisely why the Senate's scrutiny is more crucial than ever. The system of checks and balances exists for moments like this—to prevent a president from unilaterally appointing individuals who may not serve the interests of justice but rather the interests of the man in the Oval Office.

Gaetz’s baggage is no secret. Despite his high-profile defense of the former president, Gaetz has often found himself in hot water—facing Congressional ethics inquiries and a federal investigation into allegations of sex trafficking a minor. Even though he was never formally prosecuted, such allegations hang like a sword of Damocles over his public career. For someone tasked with leading the Department of Justice, a department whose mission is to uphold the law impartially, Gaetz’s track record is problematic, to say the least. How can someone with such unresolved allegations be expected to inspire trust and faith in the justice system? The FBI, an agency that would be under his oversight, once investigated him. It’s almost like asking a fox to guard the henhouse, and the Senate is all too aware of this glaring contradiction.

Trump’s picks reflect a trend of appointing not the best candidates, but those who will toe the line. Loyalty above all else—that’s the theme of his appointments. Whether it’s Pete Hegseth, who wants to rid the Pentagon of “woke” officers, or Tulsi Gabbard, who has views that seem more suited for an apocalypse cult rather than a director of national intelligence, the focus has been on rewarding loyalty rather than competence. And Gaetz’s nomination is the zenith of this approach. While Trump supporters see it as a fitting move to drain the swamp, many moderates and independents see it as a step toward turning federal agencies into political instruments of Trumpism.

But here’s where the Senate’s role becomes critical. As the confirmation process looms, senators—including many Republicans—are bracing themselves for what could be one of the most contentious hearings in recent memory. Gaetz’s bombastic style and unrepentant persona are exactly what Trump loves. He’s flashy, he’s controversial, and above all, he’s fiercely loyal. However, what plays well in rallies doesn’t necessarily play well in Senate chambers, where decorum and qualifications take precedence. It’s worth pointing out that the Senate, historically, has acted as a moderating force, especially when presidents have attempted to push boundaries. Back in 1937, Franklin D. Roosevelt tried to pack the Supreme Court to pass his New Deal reforms, but the Senate pushed back, preserving the balance of power. Fast forward to today, and we’re seeing another kind of court-packing—except this time, it’s the federal government being stuffed with loyalists instead of impartial experts.

The numbers don’t bode well for Gaetz, either. Recent polling suggests that even among Republicans, there’s growing discomfort with his nomination. A CBS News poll indicates that 45% of Republican voters believe that Gaetz's controversies make him unfit for the attorney general role. And it’s not just public opinion. Behind closed doors, many GOP senators have privately expressed unease with Gaetz’s nomination, worried that his appointment could become a liability for the party as it heads into the next election cycle. The GOP’s narrow majority in the Senate means that a few defectors could sink Gaetz’s nomination—a very real possibility considering the likes of Mitt Romney, Susan Collins, and Lisa Murkowski, who have broken ranks with Trump in the past.

Trump’s insistence on rewarding loyalty with powerful positions is understandable in a political sense. It’s natural for presidents to want trusted allies in top positions. After all, the phrase “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” wasn’t coined in vain. However, the attorney general is not just another cabinet position. The role requires an individual who can be an impartial arbiter of justice, someone who can resist political pressure, even from the president. Gaetz’s history shows that his primary allegiance has always been to Trump—not to the Constitution, and certainly not to the principles of justice that the attorney general is meant to uphold.

It’s easy to see why Trump would want Gaetz in that seat. Gaetz is a fighter, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to launch investigations into Trump’s enemies or shield his allies from scrutiny. The Department of Justice under Gaetz would likely serve as an extension of Trump’s personal will—a dangerous precedent in a democracy that prides itself on the rule of law. The Senate, which remains independent and, at least in principle, non-partisan, is poised to act as a bulwark against this kind of overreach. They’ve done it before, and they’re likely to do it again.

It’s worth noting that the Constitution, the very foundation upon which the American republic is built, envisioned the Senate as a check on executive power. Article II, Section 2, provides the Senate with the power to advise and consent to appointments. This isn’t just a formality; it’s a vital mechanism to ensure that no single branch of government can wield unchecked power. Congressman Gaetz’s nomination is a test of this mechanism, a test to see whether the Senate will uphold its duty or bow to the pressures of loyalty politics.

The proverb says, “You can’t put new wine in old bottles.” Gaetz, with his controversial past and radical views, is exactly that—old wine in an old bottle, trying to masquerade as something fresh for Trump's new term. But the Senate, it appears, has a pretty good sense of smell, and they're not buying it. If there’s anything the Senate has demonstrated over the years, it’s that loyalty to a person is no substitute for loyalty to the Constitution.

As the confirmation process approaches, one can only wonder if Congressman Gaetz will face the reality that the Senate is a place where showmanship and bombast take a back seat to qualifications and integrity. It’s not a carnival sideshow; it’s the heart of American governance, where loyalty tests belong to the voters, not to a single man’s desire to crown his loyal subjects. And if Gaetz thought this was going to be an easy ride, well, it seems the Senate might just be ready to burst that bubble, with a big, bipartisan pin.