Are we witnessing a shift in the geopolitical order? Yes—that much is certain. But the shape of the new world remains unclear. We glimpse its outlines on the horizon, but for now we sail in an ocean of uncertainty. This issue of WE explores the shifting landscape, rich with both risks and opportunities.

As Francesco Gattei puts it, “the world of tomorrow is no longer flat. It is the time of Jean-Baptiste Colbert, of distrust, of the quest for national superiority—and of ‘chaos under heaven.’” In other words, we are leaving behind the era of globalization (the “flat world” of Thomas Friedman’s bestseller) and entering one marked by mercantilism (as embodied by Colbert) and a volatile reshuffling of power among great states (“chaos,” in Mao Zedong’s phrase).

Of all the elements in Gattei’s loaded phrase, “distrust” looms largest. It signals a fragile new order, where demand for security grows in a world increasingly dominated by national competition. On the surface, this may look like a return to the 20th century—but history never repeats itself in quite the same way. Instead, we’re at the start of something new, marked by recurring shocks and fleeting attempts to predict what comes next.
Consider the “12-day war” between Israel and Iran. As the world braced for a drawn-out conflict, the U.S. abruptly ended the standoff with targeted strikes on Tehran’s nuclear sites. In days, forecasts of a closed Strait of Hormuz —one of the most vital energy chokepoints— were upended. Once again, we are reminded: those who control energy —or the routes through which it flows— set the global agenda. From the Strait of Hormuz to the Suez Canal, from the Strait of Malacca to the Arctic Ocean, maritime corridors shape power.

U.S. intervention, combined with backchannel coordination with Israel, averted escalation. Tehran never shut the Strait. It echoed the warning issued by Henry Kissinger in the 1970s: “Control oil and you control nations; control food and you control people.” And as Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan, the great naval strategist, put it: “Whoever controls the sea controls the world.” His words ring anew today, as Houthi attacks on shipping flash across the screens, disrupting traffic through the Red Sea and Suez.

Water matters everywhere. In Ukraine, access to the Black Sea —Odessa and the southern ports— is essential for Russia. Without secure southern outlets, Moscow loses influence over the Mediterranean and the trade in grain and gas. The collapse of the Soviet Union, which Vladimir Putin in 2005 called “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century,” cost Russia its web of strategic ports across the Baltic, Black, and Caspian Seas, along with the pipelines that connected them.

Now, as climate change opens Arctic sea routes, Putin is pushing for control of the Northeast Passage, positioning it as a secure alternative to Suez.

 

Energy lies at the core of today’s great power rivalries —and it’s not just about oil. Rare earth elements, essential for batteries, semiconductors, solar panels, and advanced military technologies, are controlled by a small group of players: China, the Congo, and Russia. Meanwhile, lithium from Chile, Argentina, and Bolivia has become the latest battleground between Beijing and Washington.

In today’s geopolitical mosaic, every route matters. Through the Belt and Road Initiative, China has poured investment into ports, railways, and pipelines stretching from Africa to Central Asia. While the Suez Canal and the Strait of Malacca remain crucial arteries, Beijing is actively developing alternative corridors. Iran, by virtue of its geography, is positioned as a strategic junction linking the Gulf, the Caucasus, Central Asia, and the Mediterranean. Tehran has already signed agreements with Russia, India, and Turkey to build out the International North-South Transport Corridor —an ambitious project that could sharply cut travel time between Europe and Asia compared to the traditional Suez route. But how stable is this vision in the wake of the Gaza war, Hezbollah’s destruction in Lebanon, the collapse of Syria’s regime, and Iran’s weakening? We don’t know. But we can begin to imagine a new chessboard —move the pieces, simulate, rehearse scenarios, reframe the news, and test our analyses.

The United States, now the world’s leading producer of oil and natural gas, nonetheless imports 40 percent of the crude it consumes. This isn’t due to a lack of domestic supply, but because national security isn’t measured solely in barrels extracted —it also depends on routes controlled, strategic reserves, and military presence across the globe. “We are number one for oil and gas. But we cannot allow Iran, China or others to close the world’s channels. We will never be hostages of our enemies,” Trump said in 2019, during his first term, at the height of the trade war with China. The strategy is clear: even the most powerful producer must diversify sources and control routes—not out of necessity, but to avoid being trapped in any single geopolitical configuration.

In this delicate balance, the United States remains the principal architect of a global energy order that —though shifting in form— still hinges more on control of transit routes than on control of resources themselves. Power today is measured not at the source, but in the invisible flows beneath the earth and the patrolled waters of the sea.