The Tragedy of American Science Traps Modern Life in Oil and War

We must make hope more plausible than despair; only then can we walk the path to peace.

— Raymond Williams

Soon after the raid on Venezuela, on 28 February 2026, US forces struck a primary school in Iran, killing at least 175 people, the majority of them children. On 13 July, 136 days into the war, Trump formally addressed the US Congress to announce the commencement of a second round of military strikes against Iran.

The “collateral damage” inflicted on children by missile strikes has drawn widespread attention, yet this tragedy is far from the first of its kind in US military operations. More crucially: how long will this war continue, and where will the next one be fought?

◉28 February 2026, Minab, Hormozgan Province, Iran. A girls’ school was struck during US and Israeli military operations. Image: IC Photo

People often treat war as mere conversational fodder, debating “geopolitics” and “international relations”, or how oil prices and futures fluctuate alongside the conflict. Yet these so-called “strategists” seldom confront the connection between war and our oil-dependent modern life. For once this link is faced squarely, war ceases to be dismissed as fleeting violence. Instead, it demands that we scrutinise the predatory consumption habits woven into our ostensibly peaceful daily routines, and commit to long-term, concrete change.

I will begin by introducing *The Tragedy of American Science: From Cold War to Forever War* by American historian of science Clifford D. Conner. Drawing on the perspectives and arguments of further scholars, I will then trace the history of how the United States became progressively ensnared by oil.

Some may assume that modern society’s functioning is inherently oil-dependent, rendering any shift in consumption patterns virtually impossible. Yet, this history leads me to recognise that humanity could have developed entirely different technological systems to harness oil. This scientific tragedy, which has permeated the minutiae of modern daily life—our food, clothing, housing, and transport—is not irreversible. Paradoxically, it is precisely through repeated conflicts that we, living our peacetime lives, are continually drawn back to examine this issue with greater scrutiny.

Two Tragedies of American Science

On 11 March, sources disclosed the US military’s interim findings regarding the 28 February airstrike on a primary school in Minab, Iran: when plotting strike coordinates for Tomahawk cruise missiles, US Central Command relied on outdated data, erroneously designating the school as a military base. One analysis suggests that the US military’s overreliance on AI for automated target identification and strike authorisation has come at the expense of the rigour of manual verification.

This is not the first time US missiles have struck children in Iran. In the chapter of *The Tragedy of American Science* covering US military weapons research and development, Conner places particular emphasis on how high-tech modern weapons, such as US missiles and drones, have caused civilian casualties, documenting and examining the issue in detail.

◉Book cover of *The Tragedy of American Science: From Cold War to Forever War*

Despite repeated failures, the obsession with weapon automation has only grown more intense since the Second World War. During the Vietnam War, drones were little more than leaflet-dropping platforms, but they have since evolved into the hallmark of “video game warfare”—where an operator simply targets a human silhouette on a screen, and a life is extinguished. Put simply, no matter how fundamentally at odds with human nature a weapon may be, there is seemingly always a steady stream of funding, talent, and knowledge mobilised to realise it. As Conner points out, between the end of the Vietnam War and 2017, the US government’s total spending on scientific research approached $3 trillion, with defence-related research and development accounting for well over half of all government R&D expenditure.

Drawing on Conner’s concept, I would argue that American science suffers from a second tragedy—one that unfolds not on the battlefield, but within the quiet routines of peacetime daily life: our modern way of life, built on an unsustainable dependence on oil.

American Energy Imperialism

From the 2001 invasion of Afghanistan and the 2003 war in Iraq to the 2014 airstrikes on Syria, and subsequently to the 2026 invasion of Venezuela and the US–Iran war, each of these regions either holds vast oil reserves—Venezuela, Iran, and Iraq all rank within the global top five—or serves as a strategic node for controlling global energy flows.

Resource crises ultimately culminate in questions of war and peace, a reality that is all too evident to those living in the twenty-first century. A critical turning point came in 1998, the year US crude oil consumption first became predominantly reliant on imports, which also marked the initial emergence of peak oil anxieties. As French scholar Philippe Caramelle elucidates in *The Geopolitics of Oil*, the paramount objective for the Bush administration upon taking office in 2001 was not counter-terrorism, but rather securing American oil supplies. Although in the wake of the 9/11 attacks US military operations were ostensibly framed around counter-terrorism and curbing the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, most were fundamentally driven by an ‘energy imperialism’ agenda to deploy military force in directly or indirectly controlling global oil supplies.

Although the United States has increased domestic crude production in recent years through the “shale revolution”, the output consists primarily of light, low-sulphur crude. The country’s older refineries and associated equipment were designed to process heavy crude from Latin America and cannot handle light crude, which is why the US still relies on imports from other nations.

Fully untangling the relationship between war and energy imperialism would likely require an entire book of its own. My sense that *The Tragedy of American Science* overlooks the oil question stems from the author’s decision to adopt an explanatory framework that exaggerates the autonomy of war, in order to underscore its devastating impact on American science. This framework, known as the “permanent war economy”, argues that the US economic system cannot function without conflict, and that only continuous, large-scale military spending and arms investment can stimulate economic growth.

Critics have long pointed out, however, that the siphoning of capital and resources by defence contractors, along with their privileged profit margins, simultaneously squeezes the growth potential of civilian manufacturing, leading to economic contraction. In other words, there is no straightforward positive correlation between war and economic prosperity.

This “permanent war economy” framework tends to portray war, and the military-industrial complex behind it, as a completely autonomous force that operates independently of ordinary people’s daily lives, and even of broader political concerns. Yet viewed through the lens of oil, the way societies in both war and peace are excessively dependent on petroleum becomes glaringly obvious. In this respect, humanity has so much more it could be doing.

Today, with war and peace so deeply intertwined, rejecting conflict requires us to reject far more than war itself.

The History of American Oil Addiction

Despite numerous countries turning to new energy technologies to transition their systems, global oil consumption climbed from 90 million barrels a day to 100 million barrels a day between 2014 and 2024. In 2024, the United States consumed an average of 19 million barrels per day, representing 18.7% of global demand, despite its population accounting for just 4.2% of the world’s total. This equates to an annual per capita consumption of 20.4 barrels. Back in 1930, the average American consumed just 8.4 barrels of oil per year*. What exactly happened in between?

*Editor’s note: Per capita oil consumption figures were calculated by the author using 250 years of historical energy consumption data from the US Energy Information Administration, combined with US population statistics and thermal energy unit conversions.

◉Oil consumption by country in 2024. Data source: Energy Institute, *Statistical Review of World Energy* 2025

Humans do not consume oil directly; this black liquid possesses no inherent utility. It is the application of knowledge in physics, chemistry, and related sciences that allows us to process it through refinery operations such as fractional distillation and cracking, followed by specialised downstream manufacturing, to yield refined petroleum products like petrol, diesel, fertilisers (particularly nitrogen-based), and plastics. These derivatives are then used directly or indirectly in the production and processing of other goods. They generate thermal energy to power cars, cruise ships, and agricultural tractors; supply the cold-chain logistics network and the highly energy-intensive ultra-processed food industry; boost yields in industrialised agriculture; and manufacture a vast array of everyday plastic items… Together, they constitute a modern world built upon oil.

◉The Sun Oil Refinery in California, USA, in the 1940s. The author notes that refineries are sprawling industrial zones that not only consume vast quantities of land, energy, and water, but also carry risks of oil leaks, fires, and explosions. Image source: *Lifelines: Oil, Freedom, and the Power of Capital*

Behind this intricate chain of petroleum commodities lies a fundamental shift in lifestyle. In *Lifelines: Oil, Freedom, and the Power of Capital*, American scholar Matthew T. Huber details the historical process by which oil became embedded in the US economy and culture: Beginning in the 1930s, the United States gradually adopted a strategy to mitigate capitalist crises: it constructed a mobile, convenient, free, and private lifestyle for its citizens across the key domains of social reproduction, such as food, clothing, housing, and transport.

◉Cover of *Lifelines: Oil, Freedom, and the Power of Capital*

Huber argues that the American way of life appears highly individualised, yet this individualisation is underpinned by a massive technological infrastructure, with oil serving as its most vital material foundation. Consequently, rather than merely condemning Americans for their oil addiction, it is far more important to understand how they have become trapped within this oil-dependent system.

Consider petrol, which accounts for 43.21% of total US oil consumption: can an American simply break free from it? During the oil crises of the 1970s, he recounts a Long Island suburban housewife complaining about the petrol shortage: “We can”t just walk to the grocer, the bank, or the doctor’s—forget about any pleasant cycling! If it’s a nine-kilometre round trip to a nearby supermarket… how am I supposed to feed my family now?’ Clearly, the very layout of suburbanised space—encompassing workplaces, detached houses, motorways, supermarkets, and private cars—has already predetermined their dependence on petrol.

◉1917 Willys Overland car advertisement, “This is the Life…This is not”. Huber remarks that throughout the automobile age, marketers have consistently contrasted crowded and unreliable public transport systems with private cars to underscore the superiority of the latter. Image source: https://www.atticpaper.com/

Beginning in the 1930s, the American public also grew increasingly dependent on petro-agriculture (oil-based farming)—a system built on diesel tractors, fertilisers, and pesticides—to secure cheap food. In 1900, food spending accounted for 44 per cent of total consumer expenditure in the United States; by 1960, that figure had fallen to 27 per cent. This shift has led some to describe petro-agriculture as “using land to convert oil into food”. Between 1930 and 1970, the application of fertilisers and pesticides in American farming surged by a full 1,338 per cent.

In fact, the entire industrial food system relies heavily on fossil fuels, extending far beyond agricultural production to encompass processing, packaging, transport, storage and cooking. According to the international body the International Panel of Experts on Sustainable Food Systems (IPSE-FOOD), their report indicates that today, up to 40% of all petrochemical products worldwide ultimately flow into the food and farming system.

The proliferation of plastic products is also closely tied to the post-war American mobile lifestyle and a throwaway consumer culture, a connection already substantiated by numerous studies.

What Comes After the Bicycle?

Humanity ought to have treated oil as a scarce resource and used it more rationally. Yet the examples above clearly show that how oil is utilised is not purely a moral question. It is specific lifestyles and social orders that collectively determine which oil-related products are encouraged to be produced, in what quantities, and to satisfy which desires and needs.

Hubbert recounted a letter written to Nixon by a writer during the oil crisis of the 1970s, which perhaps illustrates why Americans found themselves powerless to escape oil consumption:

“Thousands of us have no public transport to get to our workplaces and are forced to rely on our own cars. I drive 70 miles each day to commute, yet there is no bus service that reaches my destination. I have no choice but to drive, and soon I will be unable to afford petrol or cover the associated costs. This is simply unfair!”

In the end, all that remained for this writer was a pervasive anxiety about making ends meet. At the same time, a dangerous anti-Arab sentiment simmered in American society. As one country singer put it: “If they do not lower oil prices, then we will cut off their food supply.”

◉Huber notes that one source of shock for Americans during the 1970 oil crisis was the audacity of ‘other’ nations to exert control over their own oil. A consequence of this sentiment was a proliferation of cartoons hostile to Arab oil producers. This cartoon was drawn by Pat Oliphant. Image source: https://athena.cut.ac.cy/

The simultaneous presence of these two sentiments within a single society is profoundly dangerous. An oil-dependent way of life is entirely capable of forming a pernicious interplay with energy imperialism.

In my view, modern humanity has harnessed the power to transform the world through science. Yet, whether willingly or not, the development of technological products and the design of technical systems have become embedded with the imperatives of capital and political calculations. As these systems colonise daily life, reshape our desires, and constrain our actions, the very aspiration for a better life ends up forming a perverse feedback loop with warfare. Science, meanwhile, is deployed to amplify the destructive capacity of war. This is precisely where the true tragedy of modern society lies.

This way of life continues to spread to developing nations as a model to be emulated. If humanity does not wish to wage a war destined for mutual destruction over resources doomed to depletion, then the questions that truly demand our attention may be as concrete as that writer’s complaint: why not simply have more buses? Perhaps we should ask further: why not shorten food supply chains to curb excessive energy use and plastic packaging? Why not encourage agricultural practices that operate without pesticides or chemical fertilisers?

◉“World’s Highest Standard of Living: There’s No Way Like the American Way” from Margaret Bourke-White’s photograph *Louisville Flood Victims*. Image source: Rare Historical Photos

Similar questions have certainly been raised before. As early as the 1970s, North American political economist Dallas Smythe, following a visit to China, wrote an essay titled *What Comes After the Bicycle?* He hoped that China would move beyond bicycles by developing public goods and collective consumption, rather than adopting the capitalist individualism embodied by the private car.

Nevertheless, achieving this has proven far from simple. It hinges on our value judgements regarding different ways of life: progress versus backwardness, wealth versus poverty, liberty versus oppression, and so forth. Yet today, we may need to add another binary to these judgements: war or peace, survival or annihilation. Confronted by the US–Iran war and future conflicts, we must recalibrate our conception of a good life, recognising that sustainable living plays a constructive role in building peace.

In the end, we may yet discover a more sensible way to harness oil, a precious and non-renewable resource.

References

Clifford D. Conner, *The Tragedy of American Science: From Cold War to Forever War*

Raymond Williams, *War: Our Last Enemy*

Philippe Caramelle, *The Geopolitics of Oil*

John Bellamy Foster, *The Ecological Revolution*

Jason Moore, *The Web of Life: Ecology and Capital Accumulation*

US Energy Information Administration, Energy Consumption Statistics

Dallas Smythe, *What Comes After the Bicycle? – The Politics and Ideology of Technology*

https://www.eia.gov/todayinenergy/detail.php?id=67824#

– This is Foodthink’s 824th original article –