As tensions around the Strait of Hormuz continue to raise concerns about global energy security, the more revealing question is not whether the waterway could be reopened, but why none of the world’s major powers appears willing to bear the economic, political, and military costs of doing so.
The Strait of Hormuz has long been viewed as one of the world’s most strategically important waterways. Roughly a fifth of global oil consumption passes through this narrow channel connecting the Persian Gulf to the Arabian Sea. Conventional wisdom suggests that any serious disruption to traffic through the strait would trigger an immediate and overwhelming international response. Yet recent tensions have revealed a different reality. Despite widespread concern over energy markets and global trade, no major power appears eager to take ownership of the problem.
The reason is not military weakness. The United States remains the world’s most capable military power. Europe still possesses enormous economic weight. China has emerged as the world’s largest trading nation and depends heavily on stable international commerce. Yet each of these actors has reasons to avoid paying the costs associated with reopening and securing the Strait of Hormuz. What appears at first glance to be a collective interest turns out to be a burden that nobody wants to carry.
Why the United States Is Not Leading the Charge
For decades, the United States served as the primary guarantor of security in the Persian Gulf. During the Cold War and throughout much of the post-Cold War era, Washington viewed stability in the region as a core national interest. Oil flowing out of the Gulf powered the American manufacturing sector which drove its economy. When disruptions threatened that flow, like in 1991 with the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, the United States was willing to commit enormous military resources to restore order.
Today, however, the strategic picture has changed dramatically. The shale revolution transformed America from a major oil importer into one of the world’s largest oil producers. While the United States still imports and exports various grades of crude oil, it is far less vulnerable to Middle Eastern supply disruptions than it was during the Gulf War era. In fact, higher oil prices can benefit large segments of the American energy industry, particularly domestic producers whose profits rise when global crude prices increase.
At the same time, the costs of military intervention have increased substantially. Unlike Iraq in 1991, Iran has spent decades developing sophisticated anti-access and area-denial (A2/AD) capabilities designed specifically to complicate U.S. military operations in the Gulf. Naval mines, anti-ship ballistic and cruise missiles, armed drones, fast attack craft, and coastal missile batteries give Tehran the ability to threaten commercial shipping and impose significant costs on any force attempting to reopen the Strait of Hormuz. Even if the United States ultimately prevailed militarily, securing the waterway would likely consume large quantities of precision-guided munitions, tie down carrier strike groups and other high-end military assets, and expose U.S. personnel and assets to greater operational risk than previous Gulf conflicts.
This does not mean Washington welcomes instability in the Gulf. The United States still benefits from open trade routes and a stable global economy. American financial markets, multinational corporations, and strategic alliances all depend on a functioning international system. However, the direct economic incentive to spend hundreds of billions of dollars and potentially risk American lives to guarantee cheap oil for the rest of the world is much weaker than it once was.
That shift has profound implications. Rather than automatically taking charge, Washington increasingly asks a different question: Who benefits most from reopening the strait, and why should America bear most of the cost?
This is the logic behind growing calls for burden sharing. American policymakers increasingly expect allies and trading partners to contribute more to collective security. The era when Washington could justify acting as the world’s policeman without demanding compensation appears to be fading. From this perspective, the hesitation surrounding the Strait of Hormuz is not a sign of declining American power. It is a sign that America is becoming more selective about where and how it uses that power, and it reflects a strategic recalculation in which the benefits of intervention have diminished while the costs and risks have increased.
The result is a paradox. The country most capable of reopening the strait is no longer convinced it should do so alone.
Why Europe Is Staying on the Sidelines
At first glance, Europe seems like a natural partner in any effort to secure the Strait of Hormuz. The European Union imports most of its energy, remains vulnerable to fluctuations in global commodity prices, and depends heavily on international trade. Rising oil prices hurt European consumers and place additional strain on already fragile economies.
Yet Europe has shown little enthusiasm for deeper involvement. Part of the explanation lies in the continent’s political and economic circumstances. European governments are already facing a long list of challenges, including slow growth, budget pressures, defense spending commitments, and the ongoing consequences of the war in Ukraine. Public appetite for another major Middle Eastern intervention is limited, particularly after decades of difficult experiences in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, and Syria.
There is also the question of energy dependence. Following the deterioration of relations with Russia, Europe spent years restructuring its energy supply chains. While Gulf oil still matters, Europe is not as dependent on the Strait of Hormuz. A disruption would certainly increase prices, but it would not necessarily create an existential energy crisis for the continent.
Why China Cannot Fully Capitalize
Many observers assume that any reduction in American leadership automatically creates an opportunity for China. If Washington becomes less willing to police the global order, then Beijing should be the natural beneficiary.
The reality is more complicated. China arguably has more to lose from instability in the Strait of Hormuz than almost any other major power. Its economy remains heavily dependent on imported energy, global supply chains, and international trade. A prolonged disruption would raise costs for Chinese manufacturers, threaten industrial supply networks, and weaken export competitiveness. In purely economic terms, Beijing has every reason to support stability.
Yet economic interests are only one part of the equation. Becoming a global leader requires more than benefiting from the international system. China has traditionally been reluctant to assume those responsibilities. Beijing prefers a foreign policy based on sovereignty and noninterference. It generally avoids military interventions far from its borders and has limited experience managing large-scale security operations overseas. While China has expanded its naval capabilities and increased its global presence, it still lacks the network of alliances, overseas bases, and political relationships that allow the United States to project power on a global scale.
There is also a deeper strategic challenge. China’s economic interests often point toward greater international stability, open markets, and secure trade routes. Yet some of its diplomatic relationships are built around partnerships with governments that are frequently at odds with the Western-led international order. This creates a tension between China’s desire for economic stability and its broader geopolitical objectives.
As a result, Beijing finds itself in an uncomfortable position. It benefits enormously from a stable international system but remains hesitant to take on the responsibilities associated with preserving that system. It can criticize American leadership and present itself as an alternative, but stepping into Washington’s role would require commitments that China has so far been unwilling to make.
This is why the Strait of Hormuz exposes an important reality about the emerging world order. The issue is not simply whether American influence is declining. The more important question is whether any other power is prepared to replace it.
At the moment, the answer appears to be no. The United States has become more reluctant to carry the burden alone. Europe lacks both the political appetite and the strategic urgency. China depends heavily on stability but remains unwilling to assume the costs of enforcing it. As a result, the world finds itself in an unusual situation. The strategic importance of the Strait of Hormuz is obvious to everyone, yet no major power is eager to become its primary defender.
That may be the most important lesson of all. The challenge facing the international system is not a shortage of power. It is a shortage of willingness to use that power in service of a global order that increasingly looks expensive to maintain and difficult to justify.
