Aid or Arms? Are these really our only choices?
The government’s decision to cut international aid while increasing defence spending is a stark reflection of the times we live in. I understand the arguments—global threats are real, national security is essential, and investment in defence is necessary. But as a humanitarian, I’m devastated, for all of us.
Are these truly the only choices we have? A world that is safe, stable, and just cannot be built by force alone. Security isn’t just about military strength—it’s about ensuring that people have access to food, healthcare, education, and opportunities. It’s about addressing the root causes of conflict, not just responding to its consequences.
The Mental Health Lens
This decision also reveals a deeper truth about how we think about security. We are quick to invest in reactive measures—more weapons, more fortifications—but slow to invest in the preventative work that actually creates long-term stability. This mirrors how we treat mental health: we fund crisis response but neglect the early interventions that could prevent illness in the first place.
In conflict zones and in communities on the brink, people are living with the psychological trauma of displacement, hunger, and violence. Cutting aid means cutting access to the basic needs that keep people well—clean water, education, support services. It also means ignoring the mental health crisis that follows, where untreated trauma fuels cycles of conflict, displacement, and instability for generations. The pattern is explicit.
And it’s not just about distant places. When we send a message that security is only about force, we ignore the social determinants of peace. Mental health is not just an individual concern—it’s a collective one. Societies that invest in care, in connection, in mutual support are stronger, healthier, and more resilient. It really is that simple.
Beyond a False Choice
The government frames this decision as if we must choose between security and compassion, between protecting ourselves and supporting others. But this is a false choice. A truly secure future requires both—because people who feel abandoned, unheard, and without hope do not create stable societies. Again, this is not new news.
What if we looked beyond defence and aid as competing forces? What if we built security strategies that included funding for mental health, peacebuilding, and humanitarian support? What if we recognised that a safer world isn’t just one with more weapons—but one where fewer people feel driven to pick them up?
It’s time to ask bigger questions, to challenge the narratives we are given, and to demand leadership that understands security is about people, not just borders.
In love and solidarity with my colleagues working in Aid, I’m with you 💙