Behold the latest exercise in geopolitical masturbation: the United States government has graciously allowed Singapore to set fire to $2.3 billion of its own money. In a move that surprises absolutely no one who understands the parasitic nature of the military-industrial complex, the U.S. State Department has cleared the sale of torpedoes, air defenses, and a fresh fleet of Boeing aircraft to the 'Little Red Dot.' Because when you are a city-state roughly the size of a suburban shopping mall, nothing says 'sovereignty' quite like spending billions on underwater explosives you will almost certainly never fire.

Singapore’s Ministry of Defence, evidently bored with its current collection of Fokker 50 Maritime Patrol Aircraft—relics that likely belong in a museum next to a telegraph machine—has decided it is time for an upgrade. They are pivoting to Boeing. Yes, that Boeing. The company that has spent the last few years demonstrating a delightfully casual approach to fuselage integrity and software reliability is now the primary choice for Singapore’s 'maritime security.' One has to admire the optimism of the Singaporean government; it takes a special kind of courage to look at Boeing’s recent track record and say, 'Yes, give us the ones that fly over the deep, unforgiving ocean.'

Let’s deconstruct the absurdity of the hardware involved. The package includes torpedoes and air defense systems. In the sanitized language of diplomacy, this is called 'enhancing regional stability.' In the real world, it is a high-stakes version of Keeping Up with the Joneses. Singapore is surrounded by neighbors who are equally busy buying toys they can’t afford to use, creating a localized arms race that serves no purpose other than ensuring that the quarterly earnings of American defense contractors remain comfortably in the black. The Left will pretend to be concerned about 'militarization' while quietly approving the jobs these contracts create in swing states, and the Right will thump their chests about 'supporting our allies' while ignoring the fact that we are essentially acting as a global arms dealer to anyone with a functioning central bank.

$2.3 billion is a staggering amount of capital to invest in the machinery of death, especially for a nation whose primary existential threat is arguably a rise in sea levels or a sudden shortage of air conditioning. But this isn't about utility; it’s about the brand. Owning a fleet of Boeing-made patrol aircraft is the geopolitical equivalent of buying a Ferrari to sit in gridlock traffic. It’s a status symbol. It tells the world that Singapore is a 'serious' player, even if its 'maritime patrol' consists of looking for illegal fishing boats and the occasional lost shipping container with equipment designed to hunt nuclear submarines.

And let us not forget the American role in this tragicomedy. The United States, a nation that currently struggles to maintain its own basic infrastructure or provide a coherent education to its youth, is perfectly capable of processing a multi-billion-dollar weapons invoice with lightning efficiency. We are a merchant state in its twilight, peddling the tools of 20th-century warfare to a world that has already moved on to 21st-century cyber-insurgency. We sell the torpedoes, Singapore buys the torpedoes, and Boeing’s shareholders get another year of unearned dividends. It’s a beautiful, closed loop of stupidity.

Historically, empires in decline always lean into arms dealing. It’s the last gasp of a power that has nothing left to export but the means of destruction. We can’t build high-speed rail, and we can’t fix our health care system, but by God, we can sell you a maritime patrol aircraft that might or might not have all its bolts tightened. Meanwhile, Singapore’s Ministry of Defence can pat itself on the back for 'modernizing' its fleet. They are replacing the Fokker 50—a plane that worked—with a Boeing product that represents the peak of modern corporate corner-cutting.

In the end, this $2.3 billion transaction is just another brick in the wall of human folly. It’s a performance. The U.S. gets to pretend it’s a stabilizing force, Singapore gets to pretend it’s a naval powerhouse, and the rest of us get to watch the inevitable march toward obsolescence. We are a species that would rather spend billions on the potential for a war that will never happen than address the actual problems that are currently killing us. But at least the torpedoes will look nice in the brochures. Congratulations, Singapore. You’ve just bought the world’s most expensive insurance policy from a company that can’t even guarantee its doors will stay on.