As the world watches tensions flare in the Strait of Hormuz, the economic consequences of geopolitical brinkmanship are becoming impossible to ignore. Iran’s recent maneuvers to restrict shipping in this vital waterway mark the fourth major supply shock of the decade, and experts warn that more disruptions are inevitable. For Britain and its allies, the challenge is not only economic but strategic, as the stability of the global order itself hangs in the balance.
Rishi Sunak, writing in the Times UK, recalls his time as prime minister, when briefings often focused on straits and chokepoints he had never visited: the Taiwan Strait, the Malacca Strait, the Bab-el-Mandeb, the Ombai Strait, and the Strait of Hormuz. These waterways are the arteries of the global economy, each carrying trillions of dollars in trade annually. “You know that if these places keep being mentioned, a new crisis is about to invade your premiership,” Sunak observed.
The comparison to history is stark. Admiral Fisher once described five key strategic points that underpinned British dominance: Singapore, the Cape of Good Hope, Alexandria, Gibraltar, and Dover. Today’s chokepoints are geographically distant but equally decisive, and unlike in Fisher’s era, no single nation controls all of them. The Strait of Hormuz alone handles roughly $1.2 trillion in annual trade, connecting the world to a significant portion of global oil exports. Iran’s current attempt to restrict passage, Sunak warns, is an effort to put “a dagger to the throat of the world economy,” seeking leverage that could make the conflict unsustainable if unchecked.
The implications of a closed Hormuz are already rippling across continents. Oil prices are volatile, but the effects reach far beyond energy markets. Restaurants in Bangalore face gas shortages, South Korean chip manufacturers warn of helium scarcity, and British farmers confront rising fertilizer costs just as winter crops require the first applications of nitrogen. Such disruptions are a reminder that the modern global economy is only as resilient as its most vulnerable nodes.
The current crisis is part of a larger pattern. Sunak emphasizes that this is the fourth supply shock in six years, following Covid-19, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and China’s rare earth export restrictions. While the pandemic resembled a natural disaster, the subsequent shocks were deliberately engineered through geopolitical actions, each aimed at reshaping global dependencies. Putin’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine triggered an energy crisis; China’s retaliation to US tariffs threatened high-tech manufacturing; and now Iran is putting the global oil supply at risk.
Business leaders are taking lessons from these disruptions. Companies with critical supply chains are insisting that their suppliers maintain stockpiles and avoid sourcing from highly volatile regions. Sunak describes one firm that requires suppliers to hold a year’s worth of inventory, excluding inputs from Taiwan, China, or even the United States due to perceived risks. A leading defense company, he notes, has built a four-year stock of rare earth materials to insulate against potential wartime interruptions.
Britain itself is urged to bolster resilience. While strategic oil reserves exist, gas storage is minimal, covering only a few days of supply. Early in Sunak’s premiership, the North Sea facility Rough was reopened, but further investment is needed. The broader lesson is clear: in a world of recurring supply shocks, strategic reserves and rapid production capacity are critical to national security.
Looking beyond Iran, the Taiwan Strait represents an even greater vulnerability. With $2.4 trillion in trade passing annually, any disruption would cripple global chip production and other high-tech industries. Sunak warns that deterrence is essential, yet current Western stockpiles of precision munitions and long-range weapons may be insufficient in a sustained conflict. The war in Ukraine has already demonstrated that Russia can produce artillery at a pace far exceeding Western capacity, despite the disparity in economic size.
In this context, Sunak invokes an ancient lesson: “Si vis pacem, para bellum — if you want peace, prepare for war.” The principle underscores the importance of readiness, from munitions production to supply chain fortification. Lockheed Martin’s seven-year timeline to quadruple Patriot missile output highlights the dangers of unpreparedness, and the broader message is stark: the West must act decisively to maintain its global influence and protect economic stability.
The emerging pattern is unmistakable. Global trade chokepoints, from Hormuz to Malacca to Taiwan, are no longer abstract concerns—they are battlegrounds that can determine the pace and prosperity of nations. Supply shocks, once rare, are now recurring, underscoring the fragility of a world built on assumptions of geopolitical certainty. Businesses, governments, and military planners alike face a stark choice: adapt to the new reality or risk being overwhelmed by disruptions that can ripple across continents.
As Sunak argues, the lesson of history is enduring. The Roman maxim about preparing for war resonates in the 21st century, where economic and military resilience are inseparable. For Britain and its allies, the imperative is clear: invest in stockpiles, diversify supply chains, deter aggression, and recognize that control of key waterways is as vital today as it was in the age of empires. The stakes are not theoretical. The next major supply shock could arrive without warning, and the world must be ready.
