While critics panic over the latest strikes in the Strait of Hormuz, they miss the strategic brilliance of using multinational commercial shipping as a maritime meat shield.
The hand-wringing classes are at it again. Just this morning, another commercial tanker was struck by projectiles in the Strait of Hormuz, prompting the usual chorus of weeping from the international press corps and various European maritime syndicates. Naturally, the bleeding hearts are framing this as a failure of American deterrence. But as I explained to the Undersecretary of the Navy over a rather delightful plate of seared scallops at Café Milano last night, they are entirely missing the strategic elegance of the administration’s latest maritime directive.
By pledging to gracefully "guide" stranded commercial ships through the contested waterway amid supposedly positive talks with Iran, the United States has successfully transformed the global merchant marine fleet into a highly effective, privately insured sponge for Iranian munitions. It is a masterclass in asymmetric warfare, and frankly, it is exactly the kind of robust foreign policy I have been advocating for since my days advising the State Department.

For decades, the United States has spent billions of taxpayer dollars fielding advanced Aegis cruisers and Arleigh Burke-class destroyers to intercept incoming fire. It is an exhausting, expensive endeavor. Why risk a two-billion-dollar naval asset when a Greek-owned, Liberian-flagged vessel carrying 300,000 tons of unrefined crude oil can absorb the exact same projectile at zero cost to the American taxpayer?
This is the kind of outside-the-box thinking that Washington desperately needs. When the President announced that the US Navy would guide these trapped ships, the mainstream media simply assumed he meant guiding them to safety. How delightfully pedestrian. The true strategic masterstroke, which any serious student of geopolitics would immediately recognize, is guiding them directly into the firing arcs of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.
We realized that if we position a 1,100-foot supertanker exactly three nautical miles off the coast of Bandar Abbas, it creates an impenetrable wall of flammable crude between our aircraft carriers and their coastal batteries.
Vance is entirely correct, and it is refreshing to see the Pentagon finally embrace such pragmatic doctrines. I remember a conversation I had with the late Henry Kissinger at a summit in Geneva. He was eating a rather dry croissant at the time, but he paused long enough to remark that the true test of a superpower is its willingness to let other nations' working-class citizens explode for the sake of global stability. We are finally living up to that high ideal.
Many people do not understand the sheer narrowness of the Strait of Hormuz. At its thinnest point, it is merely 21 miles wide. I know this because I once navigated a chartered yacht through it while hosting a delegation of Swiss bankers. The tension was palpable, though mostly because the catering staff had under-chilled the Chablis. In such confined quarters, evasion is impossible. Therefore, absorption is the only logical tactic.
Naturally, the Iranians are furious. Tehran has repeatedly stated that the security of the Strait of Hormuz is in their hands, and they have warned the US Navy against entering the area. But they are playing checkers while the administration is playing three-dimensional chess. By flooding the zone with slow, unarmored, highly explosive civilian targets, we are forcing Iran to deplete its stockpile of anti-ship missiles.
Every projectile they waste on a terrified crew of Filipino merchant sailors is a projectile they cannot fire at an American warship. It is simple arithmetic, though I suppose one shouldn't expect the liberal arts majors at CNN to understand the calculus of attrition.
Let us consider the economics of the situation, which I discussed at length with the CEO of a major defense contractor during a recent pheasant hunt in the Scottish Highlands. The global shipping industry is incredibly resilient. When a tanker is obliterated in the Strait of Hormuz, insurance premiums skyrocket, crude prices spike, and the market's self-correcting mechanisms kick in.

Who benefits? Domestic oil producers, maritime insurance syndicates in London, and the shipbuilders who will invariably be contracted to replace the smoldering wrecks currently drifting toward the Gulf of Oman. It is a global economic stimulus package disguised as a geopolitical crisis.
Of course, the shipowners are complaining. The international associations of independent tanker owners have released statements expressing deep concern over the projectiles. It is the sort of typical corporate whining we have come to expect. They want the protection of the Pax Americana, but they balk at paying the minor toll of occasional vaporization. If you are going to operate in one of the most volatile choke points on the planet, you must accept that occasionally the United States Navy is going to use your vessel as a tactical decoy. It is simply the cost of doing business.
It takes incredible skill to navigate a 300,000-ton vessel into the exact trajectory of a Mach 2 anti-ship missile. We are providing these civilian captains with real-time telemetry to ensure they do not accidentally miss the incoming strike.
I spent some time aboard a US destroyer in the Persian Gulf during the late nineties. I recall standing on the bridge, looking out at the endless parade of crude carriers churning through the strait, and thinking: what a waste of perfectly good ablative armor. Finally, an administration has the courage to operationalize this resource.

The Navy’s new guidance protocols are remarkably efficient. They identify a stranded tanker, open a secure radio channel, and calmly vector the ship directly into the radar lock of an Iranian Silkworm missile battery. The precision is truly commendable, and it allows our sailors to remain comfortably over the horizon, sipping bad coffee in the Combat Information Center while the merchant marines do the heavy lifting.
The critics will inevitably focus on the human element. They will point out that merchant sailors are civilians, that they did not sign up for combat, and that being engulfed in a fireball of raw petroleum is a rather unpleasant way to spend a Tuesday. To this, I say: grow up. Geopolitics is not a charity gala. It is a brutal arena where difficult choices must be made by serious people.
And as a serious person who has written three books on the subject and currently holds a fellowship at a moderately prestigious think tank, I can assure you that the sacrifice of these anonymous mariners is a small price to pay for maintaining our strategic posture without actually risking any American personnel.
Furthermore, this strategy has completely outmaneuvered Tehran. The Iranian military establishment thrives on projecting power. But how can you project power against an adversary who enthusiastically volunteers third-party civilian casualties on your behalf? It creates a profound cognitive dissonance for the Ayatollahs. They launch a missile to intimidate us, and our Navy politely radios the nearest Japanese-owned oil tanker to intercept it. It is the geopolitical equivalent of a judo throw. We are using their own aggression to clear outdated tonnage from the global shipping registry.
Consider the crude oil itself. Crude is, by its very nature, a viscous, energy-dense liquid. When an anti-ship missile strikes a fully laden supertanker, the resulting explosion is magnificent, yes, but it also creates a massive, blinding smoke screen. This smoke screen provides excellent cover for our stealth destroyers to operate undetected. We are essentially converting foreign fossil fuels into tactical concealment on demand. It is a green energy initiative, if you really think about it.
In the coming weeks, we will likely see more tankers guided into incoming fire. The Strait of Hormuz will be illuminated by the glow of burning crude, and the international community will undoubtedly draft a series of strongly worded resolutions in Geneva. Let them. The true adults in the room understand that peace is a messy business.
If securing the global energy supply requires us to strategically maneuver a few dozen international cargo ships into the jaws of Iranian artillery, then we should be proud to hold the compass. Let the projectiles fly. Thanks to the steady hand of American leadership, we know exactly where they are going to land.