This is an edition of Up for Debate, a newsletter by Conor Friedersdorf. On Wednesdays, he rounds up timely conversations and solicits reader responses to one thought-provoking question. Later, he publishes some thoughtful replies. Sign up for the newsletter here.

Last week I asked, “What do you think about meat grown in a lab? Would you eat it? Will your grandchildren?”

Matt expects a species-defining shift:

Evolutionary leaps in our development have been marked by the development of tools, farming, domesticated animals, and sadly and tragically, industrial farming and food processing. Lab-grown meat is the next evolution of our meat consumption as a species.  

I.S. is excited.

“Heck yes, I’ll eat it!” she wrote. “If it tastes like the real deal and is safe, absolutely! I stopped eating factory-farmed meat two years ago, and I miss it so much! Especially bacon. Oh boy, do I miss bacon!”   

Meredith believes the technology will be widely embraced:

I stopped eating meat after being profoundly moved by an article in The Atlantic about nonhuman species having consciousness (“A Journey Into the Animal Mind,” by Ross Andersen). Meat grown in a lab is, so far as I can tell, ethical and humane. It can be produced in a more sanitary environment and saves animals and meat-production workers from the horror of meat slaughter. That is likely to encourage skeptics to try it. Given the choice between cruelty and kindness, I believe most humans will choose kindness.

Ruth reminds us that some vegetarians won’t want to consume lab-grown meat:

Lab-grown meat is a wonderful idea if it can prevent billions of animals being brought into existence merely to be tortured and die. I would not eat it. I am a vegetarian and I do not like the taste and texture of flesh or of substances that try to imitate flesh. I’m sorry to find that many restaurants have replaced their veggie and bean burgers with the Beyond Burger that I find repulsive. However, all of these substitutes are great for people who like the taste and texture of flesh. I applaud it and hope it succeeds worldwide.

Victoria expects her own attitude to change:

Would I eat lab-grown meat?

Right now, I might, in the way I’ve eaten escargot: skeptically. I suspect there is something lost in the bland sameness of a petri dish, and nothing can capture the nuances of diet and environment that impact an animal’s growth. But I also expect it will become commonplace and I’ll eat it without a second thought, because anyone with the slightest conscience can see that flooding animals with hormones to get them to grow unnaturally large—while keeping them in tiny cages and filthy, crowded conditions—is cruel.

John is a skeptic:

My spidey senses are telling me this is much ado about nothing. I doubt that the human population of Earth can be supported by lab-grown meat. If it tastes like chicken and costs a similar price, yes, I would eat it. But generally, I think putting our food in the hands of engineers, chemists, and industrialists is a bad, if unavoidable, plan. I’ve always been jealous of my friend who feeds his family with wild harvested game. Just last night, I made dinner from fish I caught. I’d have to spend a lot more time outdoors to pull that off in my household, but I could do it. And animals would live their lives free and wild, not confined to cages barely bigger than their oversize, genetically engineered bodies. Factory farms are a moral catastrophe, but feeding this many people practically requires [them].

Lavina opposes lab-grown meat:

The promise of lab-grown meat rings hollow. It will lead to new problems. It ignores the concept that food is life and replaces the normal processing of food with fake, lab-created food.

Our food is not a commodity; it is not “stuff” put together mechanically and artificially in labs and factories. Fake meat ignores the diversity and cultural aspects of food. Its use of genetically modified ingredients to give it that “fake meat taste” will lead to disease and alter the gut biome. Why would we continue in this direction when diseases and poor health are at an all-time high? Instead of finding ways to improve our biodiversity and ecosystems by using regenerative farming techniques to improve climate change, the goal is to force people to consume fake meat and fake food products under the guise of [fighting] climate change regardless of local cultures, climates, and ecosystems. It is about control and profits. These fake foods are being promoted by billionaires who have no knowledge or consciousness of how food satisfies the soul and connects people.

I heard from several readers who believed that lab-grown meat was something billionaires wanted to foist on everyone else––and from many non-billionaire readers who are enthusiastic about lab-grown meat to spare animals or in hopes that it would be better for the planet.

J. doubts that nature can be improved upon:

Chickens are precisely optimized by evolution to make more chickens efficiently. Every part needed to make another chicken from cheap feed is right there. Growing chicken-muscle cells in an expensive, controlled artificial environment is destined to be inefficient by comparison. Using lab-grown meat won’t free up cropland used for animal feed; we will be increasing demand for the same foods, only now they will be fed to cells in the lab. It’s like charging an electric vehicle with a coal power plant, then claiming it’s a zero-emissions car. Anything can look green if you close your eyes tightly enough.

Zachary wants to hasten the arrival of lab-grown meat:

We need a Project Manhattan–level commitment toward getting the clean-meat industry past its growing pains and up to scale as soon as possible. This would solve a massive contributor to climate change. Most people will never become vegans. The world’s middle class is swelling, and with it, a demand to eat meat that the market will try to meet one way or another. A Project Meathattan is also politically palatable as it would demand no personal sacrifice from people. It’s a win-win for virtually everyone but the industrial livestock industry. I think once clean meat is at a competitive price point and taste, our culture’s attitude will flip like a switch overnight and it will become regarded as significantly more unethical to eat slaughtered meat. We will ask ourselves why we didn’t try to get this technology up to scale even sooner once we see it was possible.

Mark doesn’t want lab-grown meat forced on him:

People already eat highly processed food. This is usually not healthy. Artificial meat is another processed food. If people want to eat artificial meat, let them eat it. Just don’t create legislation that forces me to eat what you’ve decided is best for you. It’s not all-or-nothing. Not everyone has to eat the same thing. I’m going to keep eating what I have evolved to eat over the last million years. I’m going to continue to eat fresh vegetables, meat from chickens, cows, etc., and grains preferably grown in the United States.

MC anticipates a class divide:

Lab-grown meat is a trend most of us will participate in, perhaps unknowingly. Similarly to the GMO debate, I imagine a scenario where we’ll see restaurants priding themselves on being “lab-free.” The scalability of the industry seems likely to move lab-grown meat into fast food. Again, we will have another class demarcation. McDonald’s and Taco Bell will be able to fatten margins (as long as it scales) by replacing farm-grown meat with lab meat. Those on the lower echelons of society will be the mass market for “new meat.” Until it gets out of the Uncanny Valley, lab-grown meat will be a fad. But eventually it’ll be common. I don’t imagine future generations will care whether their Big Mac is real or not. Just if it tastes right. Ultimately, I don’t think anyone likes to see the sausage being made. Our industrial food complex feeds the world, and fewer people suffer due to technology. We have to improve, or the future will starve.

Mina can’t imagine killing animals if there is a real-meat alternative:

This is one of the most exciting discoveries man has made. I have always been a person who hates the idea of sentient creatures being slaughtered to please our tastes. Hypocritically, I have continued to eat meat after multiple attempts to stop. The substitutes at that time bore no resemblance to the real thing, by taste or texture. I couldn’t stand them.

I’m not sure if people can grasp what a game changer this would be for our planet. Between the environmental blessings of no more livestock destroying lands, water, and air with their living by-products, we can have a more respectful and peaceful approach to living creatures (which studies have shown leads to more positive feelings for others, both human and animals). No matter how hardened they might be to meat production, the workers in slaughterhouses and meat-packing facilities have high rates of family dysfunction and substance abuse, and also live mostly poverty-stricken lives. Imagine the toll this would take on you, to kill these animals one after another while they scream and fight to get away … I’ve seen it up close, and it is a sight you never get over.

I can’t wait for the day when I can finally access this new meat and live without guilt. Would I ever eat meat from living creatures again? Absolutely not. What would be the reasoning, when you have the same product on your plate without taking lives in the process?

Carolyn believes that “cultivated meat is critical to our global fight against climate change.” She writes:

I was raised vegetarian, so I’ve never knowingly eaten meat or understood the desire for it, but I’ve grown to understand that meat is deeply visceral, emotional, and cultural for billions of people. Despite telling folks how bad meat is for the planet, for animal welfare, for slaughterhouse workers, and for their health, global meat consumption is at an all-time high. Instead of focusing on changing people’s ingrained behaviors and habits, we should focus on changing meat itself. While I’m content eating tofu and chickpeas, for most people, nothing can beat the taste of meat except for, well, meat. And that’s what cultivated meat is.

I ate cultivated chicken from GOOD Meat (which currently sells it in Singapore) at COP27 in Egypt late last year. While l can’t tell you that it “tasted like chicken” (because I have no idea what chicken tastes like), it was fleshy and kind of grossed me out—so I’m thinking we’re on the right track? Plus, the meat eaters at my table fully approved. I think we are a ways off from cultivated meat going mainstream, but I am hopeful that what I tasted that day is part of the future and that the next generation looks back at the way we raised and slaughtered animals and thinks, Why did they do it that way?

Patrick runs a commercial cattle ranch with his family on the central coast of California. He writes:

Commercial cattle ranches focus on cattle headed for consumption. I grew up on the ranch then moved away for about 15 years to work in engineering. About six years ago I moved back to the area with my family to get more involved in the ranch. Since I’ve come back, I’ve been surprised to discover that the Meat Utopia is here. The United States is producing more beef than ever, with fewer cattle, and at a higher quality. I see these changes both in the national numbers and also in the way we do business on our own ranch.

The reasons are myriad. Genetic testing and performance monitoring has helped producers select for better-performing animals. Improvements in vaccination have reduced waste, illness, and death. A greater percentage of cattle have higher-quality carcasses. And North American cattle markets are optimizing international trade to match the desired cuts to the appropriate markets. These advancements have real-world implications to reduce the environmental impact of beef while improving the consumer product and keeping costs down. And by acreage, nearly all of the grazing is done on so-called marginal lands: land that is too arid or too steep to support farming.

Erin is in the same business:

My husband and I are cattle producers on a farm in rural west Alabama. Pretty obviously, I do not have moral qualms about eating meat. I’m an omnivore. I am biologically designed to convert meat into the vitamins, minerals, and proteins that sustain me. And I like it. Even so, I can envision a day when vat-grown meat is a primary source of protein. It will have to be ramped up to scale and it will have to get a lot cheaper, but it will be a significant source of protein for a growing world population. That doesn’t mean there will not be a niche market for the uber-wealthy to purchase beef.

For the record, there are a lot of misconceptions about animal agriculture. Cows spend all but the last six weeks of their lives eating grass. They may get mineral supplements as well, especially in winter, but very little grain, if any. Cattle can convert grass to protein. Humans cannot. We cannot digest cellulose. Perhaps in the rain forests of Brazil, the pastures could, and should, be restored to forest. But you are not going to grow a forest just anywhere. There will not be forests in west Texas or even in Kansas.

There is a lot of land in the world not suited for crops or forests that will grow grass. And one of the most efficient converters of grass into usable protein is a cow. Cows provide more than meat. There are hundreds of products produced from cattle: marshmallows, leather, gelatin, fertilizer, pharmaceuticals, and more. Just Google “products made from cattle” and you will be astounded. Vat-grown meat? It’s coming, but not in my lifetime. We’ll keep on growing cattle like we have for 40 years. And that is all I have time to say, because I need to move hay out of the barn for the cows before the rain comes.

Kathleen hopes lab-grown pork is delicious:

The only meat I will consume comes from local hunters, whose practices I know—quick, clean kill, full harvest and usage. The animal has had a full and healthy and natural life. And as my dear husband told me years ago, “Honey, nothing in nature dies of old age.” I would buy lab-grown meat in a heartbeat, as soon as it became available and was proven to be environmentally healthy and healthy for human consumption.

My primary motivation for [this] is animal cruelty. Breeding, raising, transporting, and slaughtering “food” animals is monstrous. In Canada, there are the farm lobbies, fishing-and-hunting lobbies, and vendor lobbies—all with massive clout—opposing any significant change. Seeing covert videos taken within animal “businesses” did it for me. And there’s the hideous environmental damage and the damage to human health caused by this “industry.” Altogether, inexcusable. I’m already buying and consuming “artificial” meat but would greatly welcome more variety. (I REALLY miss pork, and there are no pork substitutes available where I live … yet, I hope.)

Claire feels queasy about lab-grown meat:

I tend to be wary of chemically simulated foodstuffs …… so “chicken” fashioned from a sort of ooze during a process that the company prefers not to describe and that was also described as “gray” and “stringy” sounds atrocious. I’m unsure I would be brave enough to try that, nor would I serve it to an enemy. I hope restauranteurs in Singapore at least place an asterisk next to chicken on menus, with a corresponding footnote. Marketing euphemisms seem more likely: “ethically derived chicken,” etc. In spite of the “Utopia” marketing angle, I wonder if the cost to simulate chicken would be a net positive or if it would better serve Singapore to allocate some land for agricultural purposes.

Skya thinks artificial meat has promise for feeding pets:

Personally, I am a vegan and will remain so for health reasons. My cats, on the other hand … While humans are dragging their feet for various reasons, all the domesticated animals of the world could be eating laboratory meat right now, making a large dent in the damage that our passion for pets and other captive carnivores causes to the planet.

Karl gives two cheers for lab-grown meat … but not three:

I’ve been a vegan for ethical reasons since the end of college, so I welcome any developments that help usher in a future where we slaughter fewer animals just because their taste makes us happy. Based on animal-welfare laws (which largely protect animals such as cats and dogs), it’s clear that, collectively, we believe that animals should be treated humanely and their suffering should be minimized. However, we generally don’t extend these protections to the billions of farm animals living today. So reducing their consumption reduces their numbers and thus reduces their collective suffering. I think the reduction of suffering should be an easy position to support.

The environmental benefits have the potential to be incredible as well. A transition away from the inefficient practice of raising animals for food would lower our carbon footprint, reduce our water consumption, and save millions of acres of natural land from destruction. But I wouldn’t suddenly change my diet to match the 200-plus lbs of meat the average American consumes each year, regardless of the ethics. In the developed world, our level of meat consumption is unhealthy and is an immense contributor to disease burden. This is in terms of mortality, morbidity, health-related quality of life, and cost. Maybe we could all eat occasional lab-grown meat. It does taste good. But I don’t think it should be a regular thing. We should all cut back on our meat consumption.

The day after Damar Hamlin collapsed during what began as a normal game on Monday Night Football, the radio host Garrett Bush was frustrated.

Bush had watched as other commentators offered “thoughts and prayers” and speculated about when the game would be rescheduled. But all that seemed inconsequential to Bush. Here was a young man, he thought, who may never play football again. Beyond Hamlin’s health and well-being, there were more quotidian reasons to worry too: Hamlin hadn’t played long enough for his NFL pension to vest, and Bush wondered about his financial future—whether, should he be permanently disabled, Hamlin’s family would be able to afford a life’s worth of medical bills.

In a six-minute clip that has now been viewed more than 8 million times on Twitter alone, Bush rails against the deal players get in NFL contracts. “You know what the NFL will tell you?” he says. “‘We’ll look out for the people like him.’ No you won’t.”

In the video, Bush admits to being “pissed off” as he talks about previously announced cuts to former players’ disability pay during collective bargaining and the medical-review board that the NFL could use to deny disability benefits even if Social Security deems a player permanently disabled.

[Nate Jackson: I saw horrific things when I played in the NFL]

The NFL and the NFL Players Association declined to comment on Bush’s comments, according to the Financial Times. The following week, the NFL announced that it would reportedly honor Hamlin’s contract through the end of the season, rather than slicing his pay because of his absence from the field. Hamlin was also discharged from the hospital. I caught up with Bush to discuss the world’s reaction to his comments—and why he thinks it’ll take a strike for players to get the leverage needed for fairer contracts.

Our conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Caroline Mimbs Nyce: Just watching that clip—you’re visibly emotional. Why does this topic elicit such an emotional reaction for you?

Garrett Bush: I’m sort of conflicted. On one hand, football has done a lot for me as an individual. I played football in high school and in college. I earned a full football scholarship at Ohio University. I understand what good can come out of football. Some of my best friends in the world are people that I played with. And football teaches you a lot of things. It teaches you about time management and that sometimes life isn’t fair—that if you work really hard, you’re not guaranteed to win.

But also, on the other hand, I’ve had 17, 18 surgeries. I’ve had neck surgery three times. I’ve had back surgery. I have a pain-management doctor I go to now. I know exactly what it is to be injured.

The business of football is different from the sport. And the business is very lucrative for ownership. I don’t feel like those who profit from football do a good enough job of taking care of their players, especially when they have catastrophic injuries.

Nyce: Did it surprise you, how big the reaction to your comments was?

Bush: Yeah, it’s still kind of shocking, to be truthful. I have people calling me from my childhood. One of my classmates who lives in South Africa was like, “Oh my goodness, you’re trending in South Africa.” I’m like, Wow, that’s crazy.

I was surprised by it because I thought that everyone knew these things. I thought everyone knew that football players don’t get guaranteed contracts and that you’re not eligible for a pension plan unless you play a certain amount of years. And that, even if you do get disability, you have to go before a council in order to continue to show that you are permanently disabled.

It just goes to show you the conflicted nature of the game. Football by far is the most impactful game and one of the biggest TV and entertainment enterprises in this country. And yet, we know that football is dangerous. We kind of don’t want to know how dangerous, because it’s our guilty pleasure. We know that the players make a lot of money—more than we make—so it’s kind of like, Eh, well they’re rich. We rationalize a lot of it. And when you do that, you just push some of these issues off of the table.

Nyce: How do you think these contracts will get fixed? Do you think the responsibility is entirely on the owners?

Bush: No, no. The NFL Players Association bears a lot of blame. The Players Association does not do a good enough job of representing its players. They incentivize the players to go against their own best interests. Some of the things that they vote on are these collective-bargaining agreements that impact veterans and people who are already retired. And those veterans don’t have an opportunity to vote on their own future. So you can be disabled; you can be retired; you could have CTE. But the youngest players vote on what happens to your already settled pensions, your already settled disability payments.

[Mark Leibovich: The dark pageant of the NFL]

Also, if you’re a young player, there’s no guaranteed contracts. So thoughts and prayers are really cool, but Damar doesn’t get paid unless he’s playing in the game. And due to him being injured, he’s not guaranteed his full salary.

Nyce: What did you make of the news that the Bills are going to honor Hamlin’s contract through the end of the year? Do you think that’s enough?

Bush: No. They are very intelligent. The Bills and the NFL were in a tough spot. I’m so happy Hamlin’s out of the hospital now, and I’m glad he’s back in Buffalo and getting better. Yes, it’s a nice gesture to pay for this year. I believe that he still is not guaranteed a contract next year. And that deal is something unique to him.

You got thousands of players that something like this could happen to at any time, and the league needs to figure out a way to do something on behalf of all the players, so that they can rest assured that if something happens to them, their families can take care of their medical costs or still be able to put their kids through college.

Nyce: How do we fix it for everyone?

Bush: Well, this is the catch-22. The only way the NFL will ever bend to a point is through litigation. We learned that with CTE and the concussion lawsuits. Also, public sentiment is key, people saying, “Listen, this is not right.”

Baseball’s contracts are guaranteed. Basketball’s contracts are guaranteed. Hockey’s contracts, guaranteed. The NFL is the most lucrative revenue-wise. They’re getting billions in television rights. And they still don’t even offer guaranteed contracts for the players who are putting themselves on the line.

I think you start to see what public sentiment can do. After my comments, all of a sudden, the Bills and the NFL make an announcement that is unprecedented.  

Until the players who have voting capabilities say they’re going to strike for better benefits—and threaten to hold out for a whole entire year, this is going to continue. Because at this point, the league has all of the leverage. The Players Association has given them so much. It is going to take a strike to get some of this leverage back.

Nyce: What would you say to a critic who argues that these players knew the risk when they signed up?

Bush: Well, I would argue that the players really don’t know all of the risks when they sign up. CTE is a thing that the league denied for 20 years.

Decades ago, in the Midwest, many people that worked in coal factories got black lungs or developed certain cancers or respiratory diseases. And we didn’t know about those until scientists looked at it.

Wherever there’s a job, as an employer, it’s your job to take care of your employees, whether that’s physically, mentally, or socially. There’s a certain standard that you need to meet. There were times when steel mills didn’t have women’s restrooms. So someone would say, “That’s not right. You have to have women’s restrooms.” “Hey, you have to be wheelchair-accessible for those who have disabilities.” “You can’t have open sexual harassment in the workplace.”

[Caroline Mimbs Nyce: Damar Hamin’s tragedy, anti-vaxxers’ gold]

So to those people who say openly, “Well, they know what they’re getting into,” you can give case-by-case examples of the ways society has advanced. And when you get new knowledge and information that suggests that you should protect people at a higher level, I think it’d be dumb to say, “We’re just going to continue to do it because it’s something we’ve always done.”

Nyce: So I’m going to admit that I’m not a person who watches football. That night, when the accident happened, my initial instinct was, Why do we do this? I know you said you’ve been feeling a little conflicted about football more generally. I was wondering: Why should we continue to play football if the risk is so high?

Bush: That’s a very great question.

I think people live vicariously through football players and athletes. I still don’t understand fandom that much. Like, why am I so enthralled in watching the Cleveland Browns, when it gives me nothing back? I think it just comes down to competition and tribalism. In our society, in the United States, we have to pick a side. Are you going to be a Republican or a Democrat? Do you like Walmart or Target? Is it Batman or Superman? And I think sports are one of the last and best places where you can do that at a very high level. You get to see violence; you get to see drama; you get to be mad at the refs.

The NFL is really great at narratives. When Damar comes back and plays, think about how many tickets they’ll sell. Place’ll be sold out. Think about how many jerseys they’ll sell. It’s a very strong hook.

Ukraine’s friends have poured a considerable amount of weaponry into the nation’s fight for survival. The United States alone has provided more than $25 billion of matériel, including 160 modern artillery pieces, 38 medium-range HIMARS rocket systems, hundreds of armored vehicles, and tens of thousands of advanced munitions of all types. Allies such as Poland and the Czech Republic have done even more (in relative, not absolute terms), supplying hundreds of Soviet-model tanks, an array of modern artillery systems, and all kinds of nonlethal support. Even hesitant Germany has sent a score of advanced guns and missile launchers, some antiaircraft systems, and more. In total, the West has sent more than 320 tanks, 2,400 other armored vehicles, 450 artillery pieces, and more than 135 air-defense systems to Ukraine, and more is on the way.

This is still not enough.

With the material aid from the West, as well as intelligence support and similarly discreet training and advising efforts, Ukraine has been able, by its own extraordinary efforts, to drive Russian forces from Kyiv in the north, Kharkiv in the east, and Kherson city in the south. To finish liberating its territory, however, and to decisively defeat Russia’s forces, Ukraine needs not only greater quantities but also different types of arms, including modern battle tanks, extensive air and antiballistic-missile defenses, and, above all, deep-attack systems such as the Army Tactical Missile System (ATACMS) and long-range unmanned aerial vehicles. With such weapons, Ukraine can and will repeat and expand the disruption of Russian logistics that enabled its earlier counteroffensives.

[Anne Applebaum: Germany is arguing with itself over Ukraine]

Russia has been badly bloodied. Of its prewar army, perhaps a quarter of its troops were killed or wounded in its initial attacks on Ukraine. A hastily mobilized force of men swept up in a press-ganging effort is also suffering casualties at a horrific rate. But the losses have not yet broken the Russian army or the determination of the Putin regime in Moscow. Indeed, Ukrainian sources report that a new mobilization is being prepared with the aim of more than doubling the size of the Russian military to a total force of as many as 2 million personnel.

The Russian military is, by Western standards, poorly motivated, poorly trained, badly led, and inadequately supported. Its units have to be kept at the front by the fear of blocking units that will gun down soldiers fleeing the battlefield. Its maintenance practices are primitive, its rations outdated, its command unable to coordinate the combined-arms operations of modern war. But Russia retains three large advantages.

The first is, simply, size. With a population of 146 million, it still has plenty of bodies it can throw into the fight against Ukraine, a country of 43 million people, perhaps a third of whom have become refugees or have been internally displaced. Russia also retains vast stocks of military matériel accumulated during the Cold War—even if those have now been depleted. These are dwindling strengths, as skilled young men flee the country and sanctions retard and disrupt the war economy, but for now they matter.

Russia’s other advantages are less tangible. One of these is sheer ruthlessness. President Vladimir Putin and his generals simply do not care, from a human point of view, how many tens or even hundreds of thousands of their soldiers are killed or mutilated in war. They equally have no compunction about inflicting mayhem on Ukrainian civilians in apartment blocks, schools, or hospitals. They will feed soldiers and civilians alike into the furnace of war until such behavior threatens their own survival.

Russia has, in addition, the benefits of a homeland sanctuary. Ukraine has managed a few daring strikes into Russian territory, but it has not yet been able to inflict militarily significant damage there, much less to ruin the Russian economy.

Against these strengths, Ukraine has many and indeed more of its own. This war has reminded us of the transcendent importance of motivation. Ukrainians know what they are fighting for, and they will go on to the end. They have a growing edge in skill over their enemy, and all the creativity of a free society and an engaged civilian population that supports the front in many ways; this includes creating improvised drone squadrons and articles of war, and supplying food and tactical information to frontline units.

Wars are, in some measure, tests of a society’s will and resilience, and this one has shown just how different Russia and Ukraine are. Wars are also a test of vitality. Putin is 70; Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky is 44. Russia’s chief of the general staff (and now overall commander in Ukraine), Valery Gerasimov, is 67; Ukraine’s chief of staff, Valeriy Zaluzhny, is 49. Support for Russia’s war is strongest among those who remember the Soviet Union, and the war is being conducted by the aging men in Putin’s inner circle.

In contrast, support for Ukraine’s war is across the board, and the war is being led by a generation in its prime, no more than middle-aged. This is, in many ways, a war between a calcified society lost in its brutal past and a free society looking toward a decent future.

Behind Ukraine lie the powers of the West, understood in the old-fashioned sense of a free coalition of states led by the United States. Despite understandable fretting about the slowness of its military-industrial mobilization, the Western allies have enormous and growing capacity, and they have—too slowly, and at times even stingily—provided Ukraine with battlefield technology that outmatches that deployed by Russia. Over time, that disparity will grow, if the Western commitment matches even a fraction of that of Ukrainian civilians and soldiers.

“War weariness” in Western democracies is a tired trope. We in the West are sacrificing nothing beyond modest financial resources—no comparison to the blood tax paid by the people of Ukraine. As a number of analysts have noted, spending some tens of billions of dollars to shatter the land and air forces of one of our chief opponents, Russia, is a bargain. Spending some tens of billions of dollars more, for as long as it takes, is no less worth it.

[Eliot A. Cohen: Cut the baloney realism]

Ukraine’s most urgent needs are, as Kyiv has made clear, air and ballistic-missile defenses, heavy tanks, and long-range strike systems. It has received some of the defense systems, but not yet the armor and offensive weapons. The excuses that Germany, in the first case, and the United States, in the latter case, have made for not freeing up the supply of Leopard tanks and systems such as ATACMS are at once flimsy and shameful.

Ukrainians have repeatedly shown themselves able to master complex military technology with astonishing speed. An honest audit of how long Western experts expected Ukrainians would need to learn how to operate them, and how long it actually took them, would be revealing and embarrassing. Similarly, Ukraine has shown remarkable restraint: The idea that long-range missile systems would be used to strike indiscriminately into Russia has no credible support. And fears of Russian escalation to the use of nuclear weapons have been discredited repeatedly, including in The Atlantic.

The real reasons for reluctance look to be timidity and a lack of imagination. So perhaps the best thing for Western leaders who cannot bring themselves to treat war as war is to clarify for them what they have to fear if they do not take the actions that both strategic calculations and moral imperatives demand.

Because Russia is big, ruthless, and counting on the sanctuary of its territory, the war can be concluded on reasonable terms only by the decisive defeat of its forces in Ukraine—their elimination by flight, capture, wounds, or death. Some 100,000 casualties have not been enough, but Russia’s will and resources are not infinite. If Moscow’s losses have to be several times that, the West has the ability to ensure such an outcome with little risk to itself. If Ukraine has heavy armor and long-range strike systems, the Russian position in occupied land can be rendered untenable. A defeat of that magnitude will likely bring about the internal changes that will deter Russia from pursuing its present path.

Should Western leaders, through their passivity or reluctance, bring about a cease-fire that leaves Russia with Ukrainian territory under its control, they would disgrace themselves as much the French and British leaders did at Munich in 1938—and with less excuse. They will lay the grounds for future wars because, after some period of recuperation, Russia will surely try again. Already, Russia does not recognize the legitimacy of Ukrainian independence; already, blood is on Western hands because of a failure to arm Ukraine and deter Russia on previous occasions. Next time will be even worse.

[From the December 2022 issue: The Russian empire must die]

If fear is the only thing some Western leaders understand, they should consider this. For other nations, the lesson of a Ukraine that is not allowed to win this war is very simple: get yourself nuclear weapons. Finns, Poles, Kazakhs, Ukrainians for that matter, and many others will conclude that conventional strength alone is not enough. That South Korea’s leadership has begun talking about the need to reintroduce nuclear weapons to the peninsula is not coincidental.

In a world where a large predatory state is stalled but not beaten decisively, the only resort for its smaller neighbors is to acquire weapons of cataclysmic power. Their leaders would be irresponsible if they did not consider that option. And the leaders of the major Western states are not just irresponsible but willfully negligent if they fail to take the measures—all well within their power—to avoid the world that this failure would bequeath to succeeding generations.