In a world so profoundly bereft of intellectual vitamin D that we are actually debating the ethics of a hostile takeover of a giant ice cube, Archbishop Timothy P. Broglio has emerged from the incense-choked corridors of the military archdiocese to offer us a crumb of common sense. His revelation? That U.S. troops might—just might—be allowed to say 'no' to an order if that order is fundamentally immoral. The catalyst for this sudden eruption of theological backbone is, of course, the suggestion that the United States should violently liberate Greenland from the Danes. Because if there is one thing the American empire is missing, it is more permafrost and a higher concentration of irritated Inuit.

Let us pause to admire the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of the situation. We have reached a point in our collective descent into the abyss where a high-ranking cleric feels the need to remind the world's most expensive killing machine that 'just following orders' is a phrase that usually precedes a very uncomfortable seat at a war crimes tribunal. Broglio’s concern stems from the notion of seizing Greenland by force—a proposal so cartoonishly villainous it feels less like foreign policy and more like the plot of a rejected Bond movie from the 1970s. Yet, here we are, with the Church weighing in on the 'moral acceptability' of insubordination.

The irony is, as always, thick enough to choke a horse. The Catholic Church, an institution built on the bedrock of absolute hierarchy and the unquestioning obedience of the flock, is now advising the military, an institution built on the bedrock of absolute hierarchy and the unquestioning obedience of the grunt, that perhaps they should all just think for themselves for once. It is a spectacle of two ancient monoliths of control arguing over who gets to hold the leash. The Archbishop is essentially telling soldiers that while they must obey God and the State, they should probably check their moral compass before bayoneting a polar bear in the name of American real estate expansion.

On the Left, we see the predictable, performative clutching of pearls. They will laud the Archbishop’s courage today, conveniently forgetting that they usually view his office as a medieval relic of patriarchy and repression. They love 'resistance' when it’s directed at the orange man in the high tower, but if a soldier were to 'morally object' to, say, a drone strike authorized by a more articulate, well-dressed commander-in-chief, the Left’s commitment to conscientious objection would evaporate faster than a campaign promise. They don't want soldiers with morals; they want soldiers who share their specific brand of selective outrage.

On the Right, the betrayal will be felt deeply in the Fox News-scented marrow of their bones. To the modern conservative, the military is a sacred cow that should never be questioned, and the Church is a moral authority that should only be invoked when it's time to regulate someone’s bedroom habits. To have a holy man suggest that a soldier might refuse an order from the Commander-in-Chief is, to them, a form of spiritual treason. They want a world where 'Duty, Honor, Country' means 'Do what you’re told and don’t make us think about the consequences.' The idea that a private from Kansas should have to weigh the 'just war' theory before participating in the Great Arctic Land Grab of 2024 is, to the MAGA mind, an intolerable burden on the American spirit of manifest destiny.

And what of the soldiers? Those nineteen-year-olds who signed up because they wanted to see the world or, more likely, because they didn't want to spend forty years working at a warehouse in Scranton. Now they are being told by a man in a miter that they are the final arbiters of international morality. It’s a cruel joke. We spend billions training the humanity out of these kids, turning them into efficient cogs in a global power-projection machine, and then we have the audacity to tell them that if the President decides he wants a giant island of ice, they should consult their catechism before boarding the transport ship.

This entire episode is a testament to the terminal illness of our era. We are governed by a man who treats geography like a game of Monopoly and cautioned by an institution that has spent centuries perfecting the art of the 'moral loophole.' The Archbishop’s sudden interest in the ethics of conquest is adorable, but it’s a bit like a fire chief complaining about the temperature of the water while the city is already a pile of ash. Whether the troops obey or not is almost irrelevant; the fact that we are even discussing the 'morality' of invading a peaceful ally for their mineral rights and a nice view of the Northern Lights tells you everything you need to know about the state of the human project.

In the end, Greenland will remain cold, the Archbishop will remain comfortably ensconced in his vestments, and the American public will continue to drool in front of their screens, waiting for the next episode of 'Global Hegemony: The Blooper Reel.' We are a species that has mastered the technology of gods but retained the ethics of schoolyard bullies. If the soldiers do start disobeying orders, let’s hope they start with the ones that require them to take this entire farce seriously. But don't hold your breath. Morality, much like Greenland’s ice sheet, is currently melting at an alarming rate, and there isn't enough holy water in the world to put out this particular fire.