Dominance Myth
When Donald Trump returned to the White House, he moved swiftly to recast America’s energy policy around a familiar idea: fossil fuels as the backbone of national strength. Renewable energy programmes were curtailed, regulations rolled back, and oil and gas production prioritised in the name of “energy dominance.” The premise was politically potent and intuitively appealing—produce more at home, rely less on others, and shield the economy from global disruptions. Yet the unfolding war involving Iran is exposing the limits of that doctrine. As tensions escalate in West Asia and the Strait of Hormuz remains effectively constrained, the United States finds itself once again entangled in the very volatility it sought to escape. Instead of insulation, American consumers are facing a surge in energy prices that highlights the deep connection between fossil fuels and geopolitics.
The spike in crude oil prices beyond USD 100 a barrel and the steady climb in gasoline costs toward USD 4 a gallon are not anomalies; they are the predictable outcome of a system dependent on fragile global supply chains. Nearly a fifth of the world’s traded oil typically passes through the Strait of Hormuz, making it one of the most critical chokepoints in the global energy network. When that artery is threatened, the shockwaves travel instantly across markets. No level of domestic drilling can fully offset disruptions in such a tightly interconnected system. Fossil fuels, by their very nature, are subject to the uncertainties of conflict, sanctions and strategic rivalry. The current crisis is a reminder that energy dominance built on hydrocarbons is never absolute; it is contingent, vulnerable and perpetually exposed to forces beyond national control.
What has made the impact more acute is the narrowing of alternatives. By scaling back investments in renewable energy and halting or delaying clean energy projects, the administration has reduced the diversity of America’s energy mix at a time when resilience should have been the priority. Renewable sources such as wind and solar operate outside the logic of geopolitical chokepoints. They do not depend on shipping lanes, nor can they be embargoed or disrupted by military conflict. Their value lies not only in reducing emissions but also in stabilising long-term energy costs. The decision to sideline them has effectively concentrated risk rather than dispersing it. In doing so, it has left households and industries more exposed to precisely the kind of price shocks now unfolding, where external events translate quickly into domestic economic strain.
To its credit, the administration has attempted to manage the immediate fallout. The release of oil from the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, the easing of certain restrictions on global supply, and discussions around securing tanker routes through military means all signal a recognition of the crisis. Yet these measures are fundamentally reactive. They address symptoms rather than causes, offering temporary relief without resolving the structural dependence that created the vulnerability in the first place. President Trump’s assertion that the economic pain is a “small price to pay” reflects a broader strategic calculation, but it risks underestimating the cumulative impact of sustained high energy costs on households, businesses and political sentiment. Energy prices are not abstract indicators; they shape everyday realities, from transport costs to inflation, and their rise can quickly erode public confidence.
The deeper lesson of the current moment is not that fossil fuels are obsolete, but that reliance on them alone is insufficient in a world defined by uncertainty. Energy security in the 21st century requires diversification, flexibility and foresight. A balanced system—one that combines conventional fuels with renewable sources—offers a buffer against disruption and a pathway to stability. As global institutions and climate experts have long argued, the transition to cleaner energy is as much about resilience as it is about sustainability. The war in Iran has brought that argument into sharp relief. It has been demonstrated that strategic strength cannot be measured solely in barrels of oil produced, but in the capacity to withstand shocks without cascading economic consequences. In that sense, the true test of energy policy is not how it performs in times of stability, but how it endures in moments of crisis—and by that measure, the current approach stands exposed.
