Everyday, Responsible Statecraft brings you original reporting and analysis, breaking news, and longform articles challenging the status quo, and giving voice to new ideas rooted in diplomatic engagement and military restraint. Sign up here for our weekly e-newsletter to make sure you don't miss a thing!
With the imposition of new U.S. sanctions on Russian oil producers and Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent’s dismissal of visiting Russian envoy Kirill Dmitriev as a “propagandist,” the Trump administration’s efforts to end the war in Ukraine seem to be hanging by a thread.
Their success or failure will depend on a simple premise: one must understand a problem in order to resolve it. Unfortunately, the West has been misdiagnosing the problem it faces in Ukraine for more than a decade, with increasingly tragic consequences. And the time in which President Trump can correct this diagnosis — and corresponding policy prescription — is quickly running out.
Since at least 2014, the year of Ukraine’s Maidan Revolution and Russia’s subsequent decision to annex Crimea and back separatist fighters in the Donbass region, the West’s foreign policy stalwarts have regarded Russia’s military actions against Ukraine as something that President Putin views as an elective, an “unprovoked” ambition to acquire land and rebuild empire that is little more than a product of Russia’s authoritarian impulses.
As a result of this diagnosis, they have focused their efforts on raising the costs to Putin of conducting the war, cranking up pressure on Russia’s economy, ensuring that its military suffers high personnel and equipment losses, and attempting to turn Russians into international pariahs. If Putin sees that his grab for power and prestige has only produced weakness and humiliation, they reason, he will withdraw his invasion force or otherwise bow to Ukrainian terms for a settlement.
This diagnosis has also shaped Western terms for any post-settlement order. It underpins the insistence that Ukraine must be backed by a NATO Article V-style guarantee and/or a European “reassurance force” stationed on Ukrainian territory. Otherwise, it is thought, Russia will be tempted to re-group and re-invade Ukraine to finish its imperialist conquest after any agreement.
The more this approach has failed to bear fruit, the more its proponents have insisted on applying even greater economic, battlefield, and diplomatic pressure on Moscow. Hence the calls for stiffening sanctions against Russia and removing restrictions on the range and lethality of Western weapons supplied to Ukraine. Hence the recent proposal to provide Ukraine with yet another in a long series of alleged “gamechanger” weapons — this time, Tomahawk cruise missiles — that, it is hoped, will finally bring Putin to his senses.
This prescription has not failed due to insufficient dosage, however. It has failed because the stewards of Western foreign policy have fundamentally misunderstood the problem they are attempting to resolve.
The Russian invasion of Ukraine is less a deterrence problem — a modern replay of the aggressive expansionism typified by Nazi Germany — than it is an escalatory spiral problem — the kind of “security dilemma” in which parties pursue what they regard as prudent protective measures that are in turn perceived as threatening by others. This produces a cycle of action and reaction in which each party is convinced it is acting defensively, a descent into conflict much like what happened in the prelude to World War I.
In other words, Putin’s primary reason for invading Ukraine was not because he covets territory and hopes to rebuild Moscow’s lost empire. If that were his motivation, he could have annexed the Donbass region along with Crimea in 2014, when Ukraine was far less militarily capable. But he refused to do so for eight more years, despite stiff criticism from Russian nationalists and Donbass separatists, because he believed keeping Donetsk and Lugansk inside Ukraine would ensure there was reliable domestic opposition to joining NATO.
Rather, Putin’s primary motivation for invading was his belief that the United States and NATO were steadily deepening their security involvement inside an increasingly anti-Russian Ukraine — actions that the West thought would deter rather than provoke Russian aggression — and turning the country into what Russia regarded as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier,” a base for Western military and intelligence operations action against Moscow.
Prior to the invasion, Russian officials delivered draft treaties to the United States and NATO insisting that further alliance expansion stop and that the West move its military forces away from Russian borders. U.S. and European officials refused, continuing to insist that Ukraine would one day join NATO and that Russia could have no veto over that decision.
Asked about addressing Russia’s objections to NATO expansion in Ukraine, President Biden told reporters that he would not recognize “anyone’s Red Line.” Within a matter of weeks, Putin ordered the invasion.
How we diagnose the core problem underlying the war in Ukraine matters enormously. Searching for compromise is indeed counterproductive when dealing with an expansive bully state, as such “appeasement” signals weakness and timidity that only encourage would-be aggressors. But doubling down on deterrence actually makes a security dilemma problem worse, not better. It only reinforces the conviction of each side that it is facing an irreconcilably hostile aggressor that can only be stopped by force, encouraging new steps up the ladder of escalation.
If the only way out of the escalatory cycle in Ukraine is through a negotiated compromise, what might that process look like?
It would not start by trying to divide up disputed territory, as that issue has not been a primary cause of the war. Rather, it would begin by addressing each side’s core security concerns in a way that none of them views as excessively threatening. The West would pledge not to bring Ukraine into NATO, put Western combat troops in Ukraine after a settlement, or provide Kyiv with long-range strike weapons.
In turn, Russia would accept Ukraine’s accession to the European Union, acknowledge Ukraine’s right to an effective self-defense capability, and agree that Kyiv will get weapons, training, and military maintenance aid from the West.
Although the details of such a security deal would require negotiation and refinement, such a compromise is probably within reach soon, should the Trump team pursue one. Putin has publicly indicated that Russia will not object to Ukraine’s membership in the EU, and in remarks at the Alaska summit, he said that “the security of Ukraine should be ensured as well [as Russia’s]” and “we are prepared to work on that.” For their part, Ukrainian officials seem increasingly to understand that NATO membership is unrealistic — especially given that the United States has demonstrated and stated repeatedly that it will not go to war for Ukraine — and that guaranteed “snapback” sanctions and Western military aid are the best they can hope for.
Codifying this kind of bargain in the form of a framework agreement would not by itself end the war. But it would be a significant achievement that put the war firmly on a path toward a comprehensive settlement. It would make resolving the sides’ differences over territory and agreeing on the related issues of a ceasefire and peacekeeping operations that much easier. And — perhaps most important of all given the paucity of trust attending this war — it would demonstrate that all parties are genuinely interested in mutually acceptable compromise rather than forcing their opponents into capitulation.
Unsurprisingly, the mavens in government and media that have dominated US foreign policy for the past several decades continue to oppose any compromise with Russia. But their views are a big part of the reason this conflict began.
All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the U.S. Government. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying U.S. Government authentication of information or endorsement of the author's views.
On October 13, Germany’s government had to cancel at the last minute a press conference at which it planned to announce a new bill expanding military conscription. It was the result of disagreements between the two major parties in the governing coalition, the Social Democrats (SPD) and Christian Democrats (CDU/CSU).
This episode reveals the fundamental fragility of Berlin’s much-touted defense renewal.
The invasion of Ukraine in 2022 laid bare Europe’s strategic vulnerabilities and the continent’s continued dependence on the United States for its security. The latter became even more urgent after Donald Trump’s return to the White House in January 2025, with its insistence that NATO members do more.
Since assuming office in January, President Trump has vacillated between prioritizing pressure on Ukraine and Russia. In July, for instance, Trump indicated that he would no longer be willing to send any aid to Ukraine, but he would be happy to sell them weapons — if the Europeans picked up the tab. More recently he has authorized greater intelligence sharing to allow Ukraine to strike deeper into Russia and placed additional sanctions on Russia’s oil and energy sectors.
The Ukrainian government needs about $100 billion a year to provide a minimal level of public services and sustain its war effort. Since the start of the war, the U.S. has provided $130 billion in military and economic aid to Ukraine, according to the Kiel Institute, while European nations together have provided $166 billion (not counting more indirect costs, from sheltering Ukrainian refugees to paying 2-3 times more for their natural gas). Other countries outside the EU, such as the United Kingdom and Canada, have also made substantial contributions in support of Ukraine.
Europe’s GDP is over $20 trillion, 10 times that of Russia, so on paper European countries should be able to support Ukraine and rearm — if the political will is there. Russia spent $145 billion on defense in 2024, while the EU spent $400 billion: that amounts to less than 2% of Europe’s GDP. In June, in response to pressure from President Trump, Europe’s NATO members pledged to increase their core defense spending to 3.5% of GDP.
In May, Chancellor Friedrich Merz took office and committed Germany to stepping up, in partnership with France, as the backbone of a new European security architecture. The country abolished its constitutional debt brake for military spending, promising to triple Germany’s defense budget within the next five years. The removal of the debt brake (which limited government borrowing to 0.35% of GDP) was a source of controversy, since Merz had promised not to touch the mechanism while campaigning, only to reverse course after the election.
But the collapse of the conscription bill illustrates the shaky foundations of this about-face. Germany wants to increase its armed forces from 182,000 to 260,000, relying on volunteers but with compulsory registration and a lottery for all male 18-year-olds, should the number of recruits fall short. The bill faltered because the Social Democrats objected to the mandatory registration and lottery. Just 10 European countries currently have mandatory military service, with the proportion of young men actually drafted ranges from 8% to 80% depending on the country. Germany itself ended mandatory military service in 2011.
Merz’s cabinet is positioning defense investment as a path to reviving Germany’s ailing economy. Germany experienced two years of negative growth in 2023 and 2024, largely due to the escalating cost of energy in the wake of the Ukraine war. As Economy Minister Katharina Reiche put it, rearmament is an “economic and technological opportunity for Germany.” About 50% of new procurement contracts have gone to German companies.
Resistance to joint EU funding and weapons imports perpetuates the remarkable inefficiency of Germany’s defense industry. As a recent study by the Brussels think-tank Bruegel notes, fragmentation is the central problem in European weapons production, and Berlin is a major offender. European defense firms produce nine different types of jet fighters, four types of tanks, 16 frigates, and 17 models of armored personal carriers (APCs).
In contrast, the U.S. produces just four fighters and has one basic model of tank, frigate and APC. That enables the U.S. to benefit from economies of scale. Thus, for example, a German Panzerhaubitze 2000 howitzer, at €17 million per unit, costs 10 times as much as its American M109 counterpart. The German Leopard 2A8 tank is almost twice as expensive as the American M1A2 Abrams.
Cleavages over ties to the U.S. and Russia, as well as Germany’s pacifist orientation, run deep in German political culture. The disputes between the SPD and CDU/CSU, and within the ranks of the SPD, over the conscription question make clear that these rifts will continue to plague Germany’s changing defense politics. Boosting defense spending as a way to stimulate economic growth is unlikely to succeed in papering over these political divisions.
The West likes to inflate the cost of Russian weapons as a way to suggest Moscow is in a financial bind and manipulate the narrative of a looming Ukraine victory — while also masking real inefficiencies in the U.S. defense industry.
By assuming Russian weapons have input costs similar to U.S. systems or conflating export prices with Russia’s internal costs, Western estimates produce misleading figures. These inflated costs bolster the narrative that the strain on Moscow is tremendous, while downplaying the increasing challenges for Ukraine and NATO to effectively counter Russia’s relatively inexpensive missiles and drones.
Moreover, these estimates obscure a stark reality: due to difficulties in expanding production of prohibitively costly Western missiles, combined with low real-world missile interception rates, even if the U.S. and Europe sent all their air defense missiles to Ukraine, they would fall far short of being able to stop most Russian missile and drone attacks.
Overstated costs, underestimated resilience
Western media and think tanks have consistently framed Russian missile expenditures to imply unsustainability. For example, Forbes Ukraine estimated Russia spent $7.5 billion on missiles in the war’s first two months — 8.7 percent of Russia’s 2022 defense budget. A Newsweek article, citing Forbes Ukraine, reported that an August 19, 2024 attack on Ukraine’s energy infrastructure cost Moscow $1.3 billion. In the same article, the Institute for the Study of War stated that Russia “is likely unable to sustain such large-scale missile and drone strikes with regularity.” Yet, Russia’s sustained high-tempo operations over the past six months cannot help but cast doubt on this assessment.
Many of the articles emphasizing the high cost of Russia’s massive missile and drone strikes rely on missile cost estimates from an October 2022 Forbes Ukraine article estimating some key Russian missile costs including the Kh-101 at $13 million, the Kalibr at $6.5 million, the Iskander at $3 million, the P-800 Oniks at $1.25 million, the Kh-22 at $1 million, and the Tochka-U at $0.3 million.
While some of the Forbes UA cost estimates seem reasonable, most of them seem to arrive at costs suspiciously close to what U.S. taxpayers would pay for a comparable missile. Finding such costs not credible, Defense Express Ukraine made a good faith effort to come up with more realistic missile cost estimates, including the Kh-101 at $1.2 million; the Kalibr, approximately $1 million; the Iskander R-500, $1 million; the Iskander 9M723 ballistic, $2 million; and the replacement for the legendary SS-N-22 “Sunburn, supersonic anti-ship cruise missile,” approximately $3 million.
While Defense UA does not give an estimate for the Kinzhal (Kh-47M2) hypersonic missile, given that it is essentially an air-launched variant of the Iskander 9M723, the cost should be similar, about $2 million.
Still to be fair, the Russian military budget’s lack of transparency means that in most cases one has to guesstimate. However, with input costs for weapons production and development being much lower than those for the United States, one would expect Russian missiles to be less expensive than the production of U.S. or Western European ones. Russian defense manufacturing labor costs average $1,200 per worker per month, compared to at least $4,000 for U.S. workers. Materials like steel, titanium, and composites are also less expensive in Russia. Russia’s defense industry prioritizes mass production and efficiency, unlike the U.S defense industry, where profitability and shareholder returns are of greater importance.
When it comes to weapon systems development, Russia typically adopts an evolutionary approach, incrementally improving existing systems, while the U.S. is far more likely to pursue revolutionary designs incorporating unproven technologies, inflating costs.
For example, Russia’s battle-tested Kh-47M2 Kinzhal hypersonic missile builds on proven platforms, while the United States has yet to field a hypersonic missile due to projects like the U.S. AGM-183 Air-Launched Rapid Response Weapon (ARRW) program, which began in 2018. It took a much riskier approach and is now over budget, behind schedule, and in danger of being canceled after over $1 billion invested.
But even if it is not totally canceled and is eventually fielded, the ARRW, at $15 million to $18 million each, will be many times more expensive per missile than the Kinzhal, will have a similar range, and does not pack the same punch. Yes, its unpowered glide vehicle will be more maneuverable than the Kinzhal, but using that maneuverability can significantly impact its terminal impact velocity and range.
Another example is the American PAC-3 MSE Patriot interceptor and Russia’s S-400 9M96E2 interceptor. Both are highly agile short-range missiles with similar ranges of about 100 km and both use active radar to track and hit their targets. Both have interception speeds of about Mach 5. Yet the PAC 3 MSE missile costs $4 million-$6 million and the estimated cost of the 9M96E2 missile is between $500,000 and $1 million.
But how do they perform? An October 2, 2025 Financial Times article gives a big hint, reporting that the Patriot interceptor rate stood at 37% in August, was slashed in the month of September to just 6%. Of course it is standard operating procedure to overstate interception rates. But even if you buy the initial 37%, it was taking five interceptors to reach a 90 percent chance of intercepting one Kinzhal. At 6%, that goes up to 38 Patriot interceptors needed.
According to Military Watch magazine and other publications, on May 16, 2023, a Patriot System system/radar and at least one of its launchers were destroyed by a Kinzhal hypersonic missile despite launching 32 Patriot interceptors in an effort to protect itself. Unsurprisingly, this particular report has been contested, but given the long history of governments and vendors grossly overestimating air defense effectiveness, lack of transparency/veracity on actual Ukrainian losses, and the incredible interception rates regularly reported by Ukraine Air Force, the report cannot be dismissed out of hand.
We don’t have much objective information on the 9M96E2’s performance, but Russia also has a history of hyping the performance of its S-400 air defense systems. Still, even if the 9M96E2 is as ineffective as the Patriot interceptors, it costs a whole lot less.
By overstating Russian missile costs, Western analysts exaggerate Russia’s financial strain, while providing cover for exorbitant missile prices being charged by Western defense contractors. This distortion obscures the reality that Russia’s cost-effective missile production provides a big advantage in sustainability, while high Western missile costs, combined with U.S. difficulties in rapidly expanding missile production, is a huge disadvantage in any kind of sustained conflict, and could be a fatal disadvantage in going up against a peer competitor that can throw thousands of missiles at our ships and even attack U.S. based military facilities.
Subscribe now to our weekly round-up and don't miss a beat with your favorite RS contributors and reporters, as well as staff analysis, opinion, and news promoting a positive, non-partisan vision of U.S. foreign policy.
