From Monroe Doctrine to Mission Creep: The Cost of Playing World Police
The Senate, with overwhelming support, approved a $901 billion “national defense” bill that President Trump has now signed into law. But under scrutiny, does this bill truly provide defense for our nation’s shores? It doesn’t. Our permanent bases and unending foreign funding are not national defense—they redirect American tax dollars to defend other nations while our own ports, power grid, and cyber defenses remain vulnerable.
What is in it? A 3.8% raise for U.S. troops, locking in a minimum of 76,000 troops in Europe, with actual deployments often exceeding 100,000. The bill provides a guarantee of $400 million a year for weapons to Ukraine over the next two years and $600 million a year to Israel for programs tied to their defense and the Iron Dome. This NDAA is just one piece—Washington spends tens of billions more annually arming, training, and subsidizing foreign militaries worldwide.
America became a superpower prior to 1945, and we weren’t policing or bankrolling the world—just smart, effective strategy. We were handed the blueprints on a silver platter by our founders, namely Washington and Jefferson: “Peace, commerce, and honest friendship with all nations, entangling alliances with none.” We followed this practice for over a century, and it led to immense power. We did not get involved with Europe’s power struggles in WWI and WWII until it was on our terms. There were no security guarantees that forced us into the fighting. The Monroe Doctrine kept the focus on holding foreign powers at bay from our hemisphere. We amassed a powerful navy, secured the sea lanes, and blocked empires from the Americas. When Japan finally forced our hand, they knew they had “awoken the sleeping giant”—a grave mistake.
Not only did we grow in power on a military scale, we became the world’s largest economy in the 1800s through non-interventionism and open trade with everyone. Our economic power became a security asset. Sure, the postwar alliances and Bretton Woods setup helped establish a mid-century economic high point, but they also marked the peak of U.S. dominance: our share of world GDP hit about 40% around 1960 and has been sliding ever since, down to the mid-20s today. The permanent-intervention model didn't lock in American dominance. While Washington globalized security guarantees and built an empire of bases, its relative weight in the world economy was essentially cut in half, even as the costs and risks of playing global policeman kept rising. America did benefit from vast oceans and friendly neighbors, and we took advantage of it. We didn’t need the massive alliance network and countless foreign aid to maintain power, so why did we abandon that model?
We moved away from a working model strictly due to mission creep. Our foreign policy changed because a new round of leadership came into power in the form of central planners, bureaucrats, and contractors. The narrative changed after WWII—the thinking was oceans can’t protect us anymore, NATO was needed, permanent bases and alliances were the only way to beat the Soviet Union. It sounded good on paper, but we need to look at results, not theory. Ultimately, this led to a security state that never went away. NATO was supposed to be a temporary alliance, and when the mission was completed in 1991 and the Cold War ended, the budget actually grew, the bases stayed, and the missions multiplied at what seems like a geometric level. The system can’t sustain itself, and without threats the Pentagon could never justify its budget. Defense contractors cannot sell weapons without wars, and politicians need to look strong from a global leadership perspective. This is public choice theory in action—concentrated benefits with a few insiders growing wealthy and powerful, and 330 million Americans are left holding the bag, not counting future generations who will suffer. Every crisis helps build the argument, whether it be China, terrorism, cybersecurity—fighting them “over there” always points to expansion, and we are not safer, just poorer.
Supporters of this bill have some strong points to address. They believe a robust troop presence in Europe acts as a deterrent, that it’s insurance to prevent large-scale war—spend billions now, save trillions later. Despite these reasonable provisions, the net impact of placing our troops in Europe in perpetuity has not made for stronger alliances—it’s created nothing shy of total dependency as we go deeper into debt. Our allies are disincentivized to strengthen, and the byproduct is they are weaker. Surely we’d be better off with allies who could truly form a coalition versus this current coalition of one.
The old model of the Monroe Doctrine wasn’t naive or outdated—it was designed with the intent of staying out of endless wars, protecting against special interests, and preventing empire building. This wasn’t policy we outgrew; this was policy we abandoned intentionally.
It is never too late to fix bad policy, and like other bad policy, we can’t just rip the rug out from the current system. A phased exit away from our "world's policeman" approach would allow us to set definitive timelines to end automatic defense guarantees, withdraw troops from Europe and other rich allies, and stop routine foreign military aid. At the same time, we shift to a strong, focused defense of U.S. territory, sea lanes, and critical infrastructure at home—the approach that had worked before. We would cease spending billions defending rich countries who could easily afford their own national defense. Discontinue subsidizing Europe’s security while they get healthcare off our backs and we get debt? Let allies protect themselves. We can go back to free trade with everyone, fight for no one unless directly threatened, and put that money towards our own citizens for better protection or even our own healthcare. It’s not too late. We need leadership in Washington that understands the difference between defending America and defending the world.

