There is a peculiar, clockwork rhythm to how the administrative state handles a conflict that has no exit strategy, and the latest dispatch regarding Ukraine’s newfound ability to strike deep inside Russian territory follows the script to the letter. We are told, with the usual somber gravitas by the diplomat class, that we have entered a new phase. In the lexicon of the Potomac, a new phase is rarely a precursor to a resolution; rather, it is a rebranding exercise for a project that has exceeded its initial budget, schedule, and stated scope of work. It is the tactical equivalent of a government agency requesting an emergency supplemental for a program that was supposed to be self-sufficient three fiscal years ago.

The news that military and energy targets deep within Russia are now fair game marks the inevitable expansion of the friction that F.A. Hayek so elegantly warned us about. Once the state involves itself in the central planning of a geopolitical outcome, it finds itself forced to escalate its interventions to compensate for the unintended consequences of the previous ones. We began with helmets and bandages; we are now facilitating long-range kinetic strikes against a nuclear-armed power’s power grid. It is a masterclass in mission creep, orchestrated by people who couldn't balance a checkbook or manage a local DMV without a federal subsidy, yet feel entirely comfortable managing a high-stakes chess match on the Eurasian steppe.

Former Ambassador Daniel Fried suggests that Russia is losing its strategic advantage, a sentiment that feels less like a hard-nosed assessment and more like the rosy quarterly report of a failing corporation. The state’s reliance on expert testimony is its most endearing, if terrifying, quirk. It treats the opinions of the Cathedral as if they were objective laws of physics. If the experts say the tide is turning, one must naturally ignore the staggering costs, the depletion of domestic stockpiles, and the fact that we are once again treating the global map as if it were a sandbox for the Department of Defense’s R&D department. The strategic advantage of the American taxpayer, meanwhile, continues its long, slow decline into the abyss of national debt.

From a libertarian perspective, the most galling aspect of this new phase isn't the tactical shift, but the lack of an identifiable end state that doesn't involve an infinite line of credit. The state views war as just another federal program—a vast, centralized endeavor that requires constant management, procurement, and oversight by people whose primary skill is navigating a boardroom. By allowing the conflict to migrate into the interior of Russia, we are not just changing the coordinates of the missiles; we are increasing the risk premium on global stability without ever asking the people paying the premium if they’d like to opt out of the insurance policy.

One wonders when the cost-benefit analysis will finally be published. If we view the state as a giant, clumsy aunt who insists on fixing your computer but ends up deleting your hard drive, the current escalation is the moment she decides to open the motherboard with a kitchen knife. The audacity of the bureaucratic elite to assume they can fine-tune the intensity of a war—striking just deep enough to be effective, but not so deep as to trigger a global catastrophe—is the ultimate expression of the fatal conceit. They believe they have the information and the control to engineer a specific outcome in a system characterized by chaos and human agency.

Ultimately, this new phase is a reminder that the government’s primary output is not security, but the perpetuation of the need for government. By expanding the geographic scope of the conflict, the administrative state guarantees work for the next generation of analysts, contractors, and career diplomats. It is a self-licking ice cream cone, funded by the labor of people who will never visit Kyiv or Moscow but will certainly pay the inflation tax driven by the sheer scale of the expenditure. The state doesn't want the war to end as much as it wants the war to be managed, and management requires a new phase every six months to keep the stakeholders engaged and the appropriations flowing.

As we watch this strategic evolution, we should keep a firm grip on our wallets and a skeptical eye on the proclamations of the DC brain trust. They are telling us that the tide is turning, but they are the ones controlling the flow of the water. In the grand tradition of every regulatory agency in history, the crisis is the opportunity, and the new phase is simply the latest excuse for why the light at the end of the tunnel looks suspiciously like an oncoming train fueled by borrowed money. The tragedy of the state is that it never learns that some games are best played by not participating at all.