The urgency of this message is underscored by Britain’s most senior military figure, Chief of the Defence Staff Sir Richard Knighton, who recently declared that the current threat from Russia marks the "most dangerous" period in his 35-year career. Yet, for a nation accustomed to peace on its home soil for generations, the immediate nature of this threat can feel abstract. Memories of German tanks rolling through London, a very real concern in 1940, seem distant, almost fantastical. However, experts warn that the nature of modern warfare is far more insidious and pervasive.
"It’s not the tanks you need to worry about," explains historian Margaret MacMillan, author of War: How Conflict Shaped Us. Instead, she points to vulnerabilities in critical infrastructure. "It’s the cutting of cables on the ocean floor. It’s the hacking into systems on which so many things depend. The possibility for asymmetric war, for cyber war, is growing by leaps and bounds." Such threats could cripple financial markets, disrupt energy grids, sabotage transportation networks, or contaminate water supplies – impacts that would profoundly affect every citizen without a single conventional battle being fought on British soil.

After 80 years of relative peace, the central question remains: are we, as a society, psychologically prepared for such an eventuality? Are citizens ready to endorse substantial increases in defence spending, understanding the sacrifices this might necessitate in other public services? Or does the specter of conflict still feel too remote, too far-fetched, to genuinely confront?
The Great War’s Lingering Legacy
"I think we have become used to the idea that peace is the normal state of affairs, that it’s going to last," MacMillan observes. "So no, I don’t think we are psychologically prepared… but I do think that we are beginning to recognise that war is something that is closer to us than we’d like to think."

Historical parallels offer a stark warning. Archival footage from 1913 shows Britons enjoying idyllic days at the races or watching cricket, blissfully unaware of the cataclysmic horrors that would soon engulf Europe. This period, the summer before World War One, has become a poignant symbol of a society unprepared for the storm ahead.
"In a sense it’s now a bit like those Edwardian summers before 1914," reflects retired British General Sir Richard Shirreff, a former Deputy Supreme Allied Commander Europe. "When there was a lot of talk of war but the notion of actually going to war seemed so far-fetched as to be beyond belief, and I think that’s where we are at the moment."
Europe wasn’t always so war-averse. In 1914, recruitment stations across Britain were overwhelmed with volunteers, eager to serve a nation whose youth had been raised on romanticized tales of empire-building and glorious cavalry charges leading to swift victories. The prevailing narrative promised that "everyone would be home by Christmas." Yet, the reality of what became known as the Great War shattered these illusions, etching itself into the popular consciousness with unparalleled brutality. One in eight British men who enlisted left their bones in the muddy fields of Flanders, France, Mesopotamia, and Gallipoli. The unspeakable grief touched every community, immortalized in thousands of war memorials across the land. This conflict, as Margaret MacMillan notes, fundamentally changed Europe’s perception of war. "The experience of the First World War showed just how dreadful modern war is… And the idea that war could be glamorous never really came back after that."

A Crisis of Disbelief
This pervasive "crisis of disbelief" is a central theme explored by Andrew Michta, a Polish-born American academic and professor of strategic studies at the Hamilton School, University of Florida. Michta contends that the UK, like many European nations, exhibits dangerously low levels of psychological preparedness, arguing that authorities have been less than candid about the escalating threats.
"The Germans have totally disarmed during the last 30 years. The UK is also largely disarmed and, most importantly, mentally," Michta states. "There is no readiness for what’s happening because the policy elites are not addressing their publics in a way that would honestly state the gravity of the situation."

The collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s ushered in a decades-long period of military winding down across Europe. Defence budgets were drastically cut, driven by the widespread belief that the existential threat from Russia had vanished. Michta critically points to Germany’s heavy reliance on Russian energy via the Nord Stream gas pipelines as an example of this strategic miscalculation, predicated on the mistaken belief that Moscow’s aggressive tendencies could be managed through political and economic engagement. "So you’ve lived through 20 years of appeasement in Europe driven by the elites’ lack of willingness or courage… to articulate how the situation was changing and how rapidly."
General Sir Richard Shirreff argues that Russia’s initial invasion of Ukraine in 2014 was the pivotal moment, unequivocally revealing Moscow as a tenacious and enduring threat to Western security. "The reality is that Russia believes it’s been at war with Nato since 2014. Not a conventional war, but a war designed to undermine the integrity of target states or alliances." Shirreff warns against complacency, suggesting that Russia could attempt to destabilize NATO through indirect means, such as seizing control of Spitsbergen in the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard. "So that’s what we need to be prepared for."
The growing calls for increased defence spending are rooted in the age-old adage: the best way to prevent war is to be ready to fight one, both psychologically and militarily. However, not everyone agrees on the psychological path to readiness. Psychologist Jim Orford, professor emeritus of clinical and community psychology at the University of Birmingham, cautions against what he calls "simplistic thinking." "In order to contemplate the possibility of going to war we’ve got to think in simplistic terms. In terms of enemies and heroes. We’ve got to think of Russia as an enemy. The narratives are all simplified." He suggests that "being [psychologically] prepared for war is the first stage. Contemplating war is the second phase and then actually engaging in war is the third. I think we’re well into the ‘contemplating war’ phase." This shift, while perhaps necessary, carries its own societal implications, potentially increasing anxiety and polarization.

Citizen Engagement: Lessons from the East
This "crisis of disbelief" is not uniformly spread across the continent. The further east one travels, closer to the Russian border, the more acute the awareness of the threat and the higher the level of psychological preparedness among the populace.
Sweden, a nation that maintained centuries of neutrality and avoided war for 200 years, dramatically abandoned this stance after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. In a remarkably short period, it has transformed into one of Europe’s most psychologically prepared countries, joining NATO alongside its neighbor Finland. "Russia is self-evidently dangerous," Sweden’s outgoing Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson told The Economist, emphasizing that "how it ends will define the security situation in our part of the world for at least a generation."

Sweden operates a system of partial conscription where all school leavers must register for military service. The armed forces then select and conscript the most suitable candidates for up to 15 months of compulsory training. These conscripts, upon returning to civilian life, become part of the nation’s substantial reserve force. "There’s a lot of citizen engagement," says Minna Alander, an analyst at the Stockholm Centre for Eastern European Studies. "It was almost an internet joke in 2022 and 2023 that everybody wished for a call up. Sometimes people get frustrated if they haven’t been called up for a long time. It’s an expectation for sure." Sweden also proactively identifies civilians with critical skills, such as civil engineers, and integrates them into crisis preparedness exercises, ensuring a ready pool of expertise in times of disruption. When asked about Russia as a future aggressor, Kristersson’s response was direct: "Yes. We have a few hundred years experience of this… We know Russia pretty well."
The three Baltic Republics – Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia – share a similar deep-seated understanding of Russia, having only regained independence from Moscow in the 1990s. Today, German troops are back on Lithuanian soil by invitation, bolstering the country’s defenses, while a thousand British troops lead a multinational force in Estonia, all serving as crucial deterrents against eastern aggression.
However, it is to the Finns that much of Europe now looks for the most comprehensive lessons in mass psychological preparedness and civic resilience. Finland’s robust approach to defense and security is deeply rooted in its own painful history. Of the 100,000 Nordic citizens who perished in World War Two, 90% were Finnish, casualties of the Winter War (1939-40) and the subsequent Continuation War (1941-44) against the Soviet Union.

Today, Finland shares an 800-mile (1,287km) border with Russia. Following the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, Finland, like Sweden, quickly abandoned its historic neutrality to join NATO. The nation practices universal male conscription, with women also volunteering for service. Upon completion, these individuals seamlessly integrate into Finland’s vast reserve force, effectively bridging the gap between the professional military and the civilian population.
"If conscription is done well, it ties every single family into national security thinking. Your grandfather, your great-grandfather and your sons, they all go to the same military service," explains retired three-star General Arto Raty, former permanent secretary of Finland’s Ministry of Defence. "We bind the whole of society into supporting the military. Every single hospital has its crisis tasking. Every water supply agency. And interestingly, the most publicly trusted organisations in Finland today are the military, the defence forces and the police. That is not the case in most countries."
Beyond conscription, the Finnish military annually runs intensive courses for societal leaders – including Members of Parliament, government ministers, CEOs of private enterprises and public utilities, health service administrators, and even representatives from NGOs and churches. "We train them in crisis management, so that they understand how society will work in a crisis. We’ve been doing it every year since 1960." With a population of just 5.5 million, Finland maintains a professional defense force of 23,000, comparable to Britain’s 70,000 from a population of 66 million. Crucially, Finland also boasts a trained reserve force of nearly 1 million, capable of mobilizing an army of 280,000 at short notice. In 2025, Finland is projected to spend 2.5% of its GDP on defence, mirroring the UK’s 2.3% for the same year, demonstrating a significant national commitment.

Should the rest of Europe bear the financial and social cost of following Finland’s comprehensive lead, even if the prospects of a conventional war with Russia seem remote? "An army of 70,000 is simply not going to cut the mustard in the sort of war we are going to have to face," asserts General Sir Richard Shirreff. "So I don’t see how we could generate the military capability needed without some form of call-up." He suggests that the Norwegian model might offer a viable blueprint for changing the British mindset. In Norway, every school leaver is registered for conscription, undertaking a year of training. Later, when competing for jobs, national service on a CV is seen as a mark of discipline and capability. "That’s the sort of thing we should look at."
Ultimately, the path forward requires an honest conversation. "The case has to be made honestly by political leaders who must really look the population in the eye and say ‘this has got to be done for us to be secure’," Shirreff concludes. As the geopolitical landscape shifts, the question of psychological readiness is no longer a theoretical exercise but a critical imperative for national security and societal resilience.







