After this war, the global landscape has become almost clear! Russia will end the Russia-Ukraine conflict as soon as possible, and the possibility of a war between China and Japan is also decreasing. After the "Persian War," the game between China, the U.S., and Russia is likely to appear on the economic level, while military confrontations are unlikely to occur in the next few decades or even a hundred years.

The clarity of the world pattern does not depend on who wins which battle, but on everyone realizing one thing: that the order which cannot be moved even with hundreds of thousands of troops and trillions of dollars can only be reshaped through economic chips and rule-based discourse.

This Middle Eastern conflict, often called the "Persian War" by many, revolves around three main points: the U.S. and Israel set very high strategic goals, leading to stalemate as the conflict prolongs; U.S. bases and assets in multiple locations in the Middle East are under pressure and heavily consumed; the nuclear issue has not been "eliminated in one strike," and international agencies are tracking Iran’s uranium enrichment and stockpiles, while Iran is also advancing new enrichment facilities.

At the same time, more intensive contact information has emerged in the Russia-Ukraine direction, with reports of multiple trilateral talks and high-level calls in 2026; in East Asia, Japan’s trend of accelerating military investment continues, but on a practical level, it is still tied to trade and supply chains, with societal concerns deepening.

This Middle Eastern war has given the world a very straightforward lesson: the "effect" and "cost" of modern warfare are often not aligned. Strikes can be very powerful, but total elimination is difficult; tactically, many things can be achieved, but strategically, achieving a one-step victory is even harder.

Goals like nuclear capability, missiles, and proxy networks inherently carry "diffusion" characteristics. Destroy one point, and pressure will push it to another, eventually forming a longer chase chain.

A more critical change is the speed of "war spillover." When the Strait of Hormuz is closed, shipping, insurance, oil prices, chemical products, and freight costs will all follow suit.

Companies make decisions based on one thing: uncertainty.

As long as uncertainty remains high, orders will go elsewhere, inventories will pile up, and financial costs will rise. When the battlefield is in the Middle East, the bills will land on every gas station and factory worldwide.

This also explains why the Russia-Ukraine situation is more like entering a "stop-loss logic." When the Middle East draws U.S. attention, military production capacity, and diplomatic resources away, the Ukraine battlefield becomes difficult to proceed at the original pace. Negotiations become more frequent, ceasefire proposals increase, and actions will speak louder than slogans.

East Asia faces similar practical constraints. The trade, investment, and component dependencies between China and Japan are no longer relationships that can be "cut off at will."

If a real conflict breaks out, the first wave of impact will not only be maritime and air combat but also the simultaneous shock to energy lines, ports, and manufacturing lines. For ordinary people, the fastest feelings are not war reports but exchange rates, oil prices, employment, and commodity price fluctuations.

I prefer to understand this round of changes as one sentence: major powers have entered the "total accounting" stage.

In the past, many believed in a simple scene: aircraft carriers sailing over, missiles flying past, and the outcome would be decided.

This Middle Eastern war disassembles that scene for you: missiles are certainly useful, air strikes can indeed produce effects, but the real challenge is turning "effects" into "results."

Results require long-term dominance, which depends on sustained investment capacity. What supports sustained investment? Fiscal space, industrial capacity, whether alliances are willing to share the burden, and whether society can bear long-term costs.

Looking at the goals set by the U.S. and Israel, they sound very tough, but their implementation is very "long-term."

Overthrowing regimes, changing nature, eliminating nuclear capabilities, restricting missiles, cutting proxy networks—all point toward "long-term governance."
Long-term governance is not something that can be solved with a single airstrike; it often circles back to negotiations, sanctions, blockades, and energy corridors. These are the tools we are more familiar with: economic warfare, financial warfare, supply chain control.

Looking at Iran’s response, retaliatory strikes target not just personnel but more so runways, radars, communications, and storage—things that make your ongoing combat more expensive.
Its logic is very pragmatic: if you can't beat me, first raise your costs, so that your domestic debate shifts from "Can we win?" to "Is it worth it?"

At this stage of war, it’s not about who has stronger emotions but about whose system is more resilient to exhaustion.

The same applies to the Russia-Ukraine line. The outside world treats it as a military confrontation, but the real pressure inside Russia often comes from another table: inflation, deficits, labor shortages, and long-term military spending squeezing livelihoods.
As this table becomes tighter, negotiations become more of a "necessity." For Ukraine, it’s equally difficult—aid rhythms, weapon supplies, and reconstruction expectations will directly influence battlefield choices.

I want to add one more point about East Asia. Many people focus only on military strength, base depth, and aid timing—these are important. But the more "decisive" factors are often soft constraints: whether society is willing to endure long-term price fluctuations, employment declines, and asset devaluations caused by war.

Whether companies are willing to continue investing amid uncertainty; whether financial markets are willing to price a country with higher risk premiums.

Once war causes both capital costs and energy costs to rise simultaneously, short-term resilience is possible, but long-term endurance becomes impossible. East Asian countries are more sensitive to this because their supply chains are too dense, and foreign trade accounts for too much—everyone fears "a single misjudgment, ten years to recover."

This is also why I agree with the idea that "military confrontation recedes, economic competition takes the stage." It’s not that the world will have no wars from now on; in reality, frictions will be more numerous, fragmented, and frequent. Large-scale direct clashes will decrease, but proxy conflicts, blockades, sanctions, technological restrictions, financial tools, and energy corridor controls will become more common.

On the surface, everyone talks about security, but what they hold in their hands are orders, routes, settlements, minerals, chips, and insurance.

Which trend do you prefer: in the next decade, will conflicts occur more in finance, energy, and supply chains, or will military confrontation re-emerge as the main focus?
Do you think the most critical variables are oil prices, military production capacity, alliance attitudes, or the degree of domestic economic pressure?
Share your judgment in the comments.