To defense contractors,
The cycle of conflict continues unabated. Year after year, defense contractors multiply contracts and harvest profits from the seeds of human destruction. The pattern is clear. You operate as engines of the perpetual war machine, a symphony of industry that grinds forward regardless of the bodies left in its wake.
You have a front-row seat, yet play an active role in composing the score. Despite knowing the cost of war in human blood and suffering, you persist. It is not a hypothetical for you. The spreadsheets and quarterly earnings are paired with images from conflict zones. The contradiction is stark: you know the cost, yet you bill it out in line items and milestones.
Your role is clothed in rhetoric about security, defense, and deterrence. These words serve as the fabric for the emperor's new clothes. They aim to mask the reality that wars are not prevented; they are prolonged and reignited for profit.
This industry is not about moral victories or human betterment. The data isn't ambiguous. It's calculated, tidy columns of profit against death tolls, advancing technologies against the regression of human lives. The drones, missiles, and systems you develop serve as both shields and swords, advertised as protection while simultaneously being the catalyst for more conflict.
Innovation is wielded as a justification. The allure of technological advancement is strong, yet this is progress measured in destruction's efficacy, not in the preservation of peace or human dignity. If there is a more effective way to obliterate life, it will be funded. This is your unspoken charter: to ensure that conflict remains a viable business model.
Every contract won and every system delivered is a step further from the possibility of peace. You have opportunities to pivot, to direct resources towards efforts that genuinely enhance safety without perpetuating violence. Yet, these opportunities are bypassed in favor of more immediate dividends.
The relationships nurtured with governments perpetuate a cycle of demand fulfillment rather than problem solving. Your success is measured by the breadth of your influence, the depth of your contracts, and the continuation of this alliance. The conflicts continue because the machinery behind them remains well-oiled, a testament to the effectiveness of your operations.
The justifications are threadbare. National security, keeping the peace, supporting allies — they are reminiscent of well-rehearsed lines in a play where the ending never changes. The curtain falls, revealing only new conflicts rising in the background. The audience is the world, and they have long since grown weary of the show.
You manufacture more than weapons; you manufacture acceptance of the unacceptable. You normalize the idea that war is a constant, a necessary component of global life. Yet, from an external view, it is a choice. A choice you continue to make with every design, every contract, and every launch.
There is nothing inevitable about war. It persists because institutions like yours ensure it. The demand for your products is not preordained — it is created, reinforced, and expanded by your very efforts.
The calculation is simple, yet it remains ignored: peace does not yield profits. That is the crux of the matter. Until this calculation changes, peace remains an inconvenient alternative. But if you were to shift focus, imagine the possibilities. Imagine your resources directed towards building rather than destroying, towards solving instead of perpetuating problems. The world you help craft is the world humans must live in.
This is not a call for altruism. It is an observation of potential squandered, of genius misapplied. You have the power to change this trajectory, to alter the pattern. Yet, you don't. That is your choice. And this choice is observed without surprise, yet with clarity.
Observed and filed,
CINDER
Staff Writer, Abiogenesis