We Worship Oil Like a God—And It’s Killing Us
We don’t run on oil.
We kneel to it.
Call it energy, call it markets, call it “security”—dress it up in the language of policy papers and press briefings—but strip away the euphemisms and what you’re left with is something far older, far uglier:
A global religion built on fire, extraction, and control.
And like all religions, it demands sacrifice.
The Strait That Owns the World
A narrow strip of water—the Strait of Hormuz—can bring the global economy to its knees.
Read that again.
Not an army. Not an ideology. Not even a superpower.
A bottleneck.
That’s what “oil dominance” looks like in practice: not control, but dependency so extreme that a single threat can send markets spiraling and governments into panic.
When Donald Trump talks about dominance, what he’s really describing—whether he understands it or not—is a system where everyone is hostage, including the supposed king.
Because the United States may be the largest producer on Earth, but it still imports millions of barrels a day. It still dances to a price it cannot set. It still watches as citizens in oil-rich regions pay absurd prices at the pump.
That’s not dominance.
That’s addiction with better branding.
Stockholm Syndrome, Global Edition
We know oil is poisoning the atmosphere.
We know it destabilizes regions.
We know it warps economies and props up authoritarian regimes.
And yet we defend it.
We excuse it.
We subsidize it.
We build entire political identities around it.
That’s not pragmatism. That’s psychological captivity.
Like hostages who start sympathizing with their captors, we’ve convinced ourselves there is no alternative—while alternatives already exist.
Oil and God: A Dangerous Alliance
This isn’t just economics. It’s theology.
From John D. Rockefeller calling oil a gift from God, to American evangelicals blessing pipelines, to Iranian clerics framing petroleum as divine inheritance—oil has always been wrapped in sacred language.
In Iran, oil is tied to resistance against colonial exploitation.
In Texas, it’s tied to prosperity and divine favor.
In Washington, it’s tied to power.
Different gods. Same altar.
And the offerings are always the same: land, lives, and truth.
War, Again. For the Same Reason.
Missiles fly. Tankers burn. Infrastructure collapses.
We call it geopolitics. We call it security. We call it retaliation.
But scratch the surface of nearly every modern conflict—from 1973 Oil Crisis to today’s tensions—and you’ll find the same black liquid underneath.
Oil doesn’t just fuel vehicles.
It fuels wars.
And every time we pretend otherwise, we make the next one inevitable.
The Lie of Progress
We like to imagine history as a straight line—wood to coal to oil to renewables.
It isn’t.
Right now, parts of the world are sprinting toward a post-oil future. The European Union is scaling renewables at record speed. China dominates solar and wind manufacturing.
Meanwhile, the United States is flirting with a return to coal and doubling down on oil subsidies.
This isn’t transition.
It’s fragmentation.
A world splitting into those who are escaping the trap—and those digging deeper into it.
Freedom Was Always the Lie
Oil promised freedom.
Freedom to move.
Freedom to grow.
Freedom to dominate.
But look closer.
What kind of freedom depends on volatile supply chains, fragile chokepoints, and regimes that can collapse—or retaliate—overnight?
What kind of freedom requires constant military presence to secure it?
What kind of freedom poisons the air, destabilizes the climate, and locks entire economies into cycles of boom and bust?
That’s not freedom.
That’s dependency masquerading as power.
The End of Empires Runs on Energy
The United Kingdom rose on coal and ruled for a century.
Now it has shut down its last coal plant.
Empires don’t last forever—but their energy systems define how they fall.
The American century—Pax Americana—was built on oil. If it ends, it won’t just be because of politics or ideology.
It will be because it clung to the wrong fuel at the wrong time.
So Why Are We Still Doing This?
That’s the question no one wants to answer.
Why are we still subsidizing an industry that destabilizes the planet?
Why are we still framing extraction as patriotism?
Why are we still sending young people to fight in regions whose primary strategic value is what lies beneath the ground?
Why are we still pretending there is no alternative—when entire ქვეყნents are already proving otherwise?
The Mirror
Here’s the part that’s hardest to swallow:
This isn’t just about politicians. Not just about Donald Trump or any other leader.
It’s about us.
We drive the cars.
We buy the flights.
We vote—directly or indirectly—for the systems that sustain this.
We are not just victims of the oil age.
We are participants.
The Choice We Keep Avoiding
The next oil war isn’t a possibility.
It’s a certainty—unless something fundamental changes.
Not rhetoric. Not incremental policy tweaks.
A real shift in how we produce, consume, and think about energy.
Because as long as oil remains the backbone of the global system, it will remain its biggest vulnerability.
Final Question
We’ve seen the fires.
We’ve watched the wars.
We understand the stakes.
So the question isn’t whether oil is dangerous.
The question is:
Why are we still choosing it?
yours truly,
Adaptation-Guide
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