Climate change isn’t just scorching summers, raging wildfires, or coastal populations sinking into the sea. It’s also about military security. As the polar ice recedes, the Arctic, once a desolate expanse of frozen wilderness, is fast becoming the world’s newest strategic arena. Sea lanes that were once impassable are opening up, oil and gas reserves long locked beneath ice are now accessible, and the Arctic is quickly transforming from frozen obscurity to a site of conflict. Climate change, far from an abstract threat, is reshaping the contours of global security.
This isn’t hyperbole. On Tuesday, Russia’s defence ministry released footage on Telegram of joint Arctic naval drills with China. These war games, scheduled to run until September 16, are about Russia projecting strength along what could be the next military frontier. The once silent, frozen North is thawing, and Russia has planted its flag squarely on the softening ground.
The Arctic is warming four times faster than the rest of the world. Global temperatures have risen by an average of 1.1°C since the Industrial Revolution but in the Arctic, that number has been closer to 3°C since the 1980s. The ice is retreating with an alarming speed. Northern members of NATO, Norway in particular, are caught between environmental aspirations and the demands of global energy markets. They now face the unenviable task of managing a crisis that they have unwittingly helped fuel.
The Arctic, in Moscow’s view, is not just a resource grab; it’s longstanding territory. In 2021, the Russian foreign minister, Sergey Lavrov, had made his stance clear: “It has been absolutely clear for everyone for a long time that this is our territory...” Russia has taken that statement seriously, building infrastructure across more than 4,300 miles of its Siberian Arctic plateau, revamping ports, building new civilian outposts, and is even constructing a floating nuclear power plant. Seventeen full-service ports are in the works along the Northern Sea Route as Moscow angles to control the critical arteries that have opened up in the wake of the retreating ice.
But even with its vast Arctic coastline, Moscow’s grip isn’t ironclad. The Northern Fleet, Russia’s crown jewel of nuclear deterrence, is confined by the harsh geography of the Kola Peninsula. Its submarines must navigate the shallow Barents Sea under NATO’s watchful eye. This tension highlights Russia’s precarious position despite its ambition.
Norway, on NATO’s leading northern flank, is more critical than ever as Sweden and Finland have joined the alliance recently. A founding member of NATO, Norway has pledged an unprecedented defence expansion, increasing conscripts from 9,000 to 13,500, and boosting defence spending by 51 billion Norwegian Euros over the next dozen years. This is a historic shift from neutral Norway, which has long blended policies of deterrence with reassurance to maintain relations with Russia for decades.
But context matters. For comparison, Poland has spent an equivalent of 4.12% of its GDP on defence, which is the highest level among NATO members and more than double the alliance’s 2% of GDP guideline. Poland is among the less affluent nations of the NATO alliance, with its GDP per capita being just a little more than half of Norway’s. Nevertheless, Poland boasts a conscript force of 200,000 and spent 23 billion euros on defence in 2023 alone. Norway’s defence budget, even with its eye-catching increase, pales in comparison. For a country sitting on NATO’s Arctic doorstep, and in comparison to other member states, are Norway’s contributions adequate or equitable?
Norway’s role in this Arctic drama is also riddled with contradictions. The nation is a global paragon of climate action, proudly pledging a plan to reach carbon neutrality by 2030. But beneath this veneer of environmental responsibility lies a glaring paradox: Norway is one of the world’s largest exporters of oil and gas. Demand for Norwegian resources are only increasing since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine as allies boycott Russian oil and gas. Norway stands as the fifth-largest oil exporter and third-largest natural gas supplier and exports reached their highest amount in a decade in 2023. While its domestic efforts to curb emissions are commendable, the oil rigs scattered across the North Sea continue to churn out the very fuel that accelerates the melting of the polar ice — and, with it, the very crisis that threatens Norway’s own security. In this sense, Norway has positioned itself as both the healer and the harmer. As the ice melts, so too does its credibility as a global climate leader.
Poland’s approach is also not without criticism. Global dependency on oil and gas strengthens Russia, no matter which way you look at it. Whether these resources are purchased directly from Russia or not, carbon-based fuel usage is melting the north, which Russia is well-prepared to dominate. In Poland’s case, instead of using some of its budget on military expenses, it could invest in carbon neutral infrastructure that would reduce its overall dependency on oil and gas and, thereby, do its part to prevent new military opportunities for Russia. Compared to Norway, Poland has drastically deprioritised carbon neutrality, offering climate plans that rely on emission absorption rather than emission reduction. It is also making relatively distant commitments in comparison to other nations.
The Arctic’s transformation isn’t just a Russia-NATO stand-off. China’s growing interest in the region and its increased friendship with Russia are concerning those who see China’s power as a potential threat for global stability. The United States of America has started responding with Arctic military drills named ‘Operation Polar Dagger’, a testament to the shifting focus on the region.
Climate change is no longer an abstract environmental issue, something to be addressed by future generations or with feel-good global accords that kick the climate can down the road. It is here, it is now, and it is driving geopolitical realignments with breathtaking speed. The Arctic, once an afterthought in global power struggles, is now at the centre of the world’s next great contest for resources and strategic dominance.
If NATO is serious about Arctic defence, it must first take climate change seriously. The far north is becoming a crucible for international conflict and unless the West faces the harsh reality that the melting ice is more than just an environmental tragedy, it will be caught flat-footed in the global race for the Arctic.
Norway, for its part, must reconcile its dual role as Arctic’s defender and offender. It can no longer afford to be both an oil giant and a climate hero. Something’s got to give. Other NATO allies must also do their part by shifting their thinking about contributions from being solely in terms of military capabilities to investments in carbon neutrality to slow or even stop polar melting.
The Arctic is heating up — both literally and figuratively. The Arctic is no longer a remote, icy expanse and climate change is not just an environmental concern, but a strategic one as well. As the ice melts, the world’s future is increasingly bound to the far north. If we fail to confront the twin crises of climate change and the militarisation of the Arctic, we risk losing more than just polar ice. We risk stability itself.
Carol Schaeffer is a journalist based in New York and Berlin where she writes about Europe, politics and culture
