This Isn’t National Security Policy — It’s Big Oil Policy

Recent U.S. actions against Venezuelan oil shipments are being framed as enforcement and security. But when you step back and look at the results, a different picture emerges.

The United States is seizing oil tankers and blocking Venezuelan oil exports. The predictable effect of restricting oil supply is higher prices. Higher prices benefit oil producers, traders, and refiners.

That outcome doesn’t depend on intent. It follows directly from how oil markets work.

When a policy reliably raises prices and boosts industry profits, it’s reasonable to ask who benefits — and whether the public interest is actually being served.

Policing Oil Markets Is Not Public Safety

If the primary goal were public safety or counter-narcotics, enforcement would focus on financial networks, corruption, and trafficking routes.

Instead, the focus is on oil shipments.

Seizing tankers does not stop drug trafficking.
It does not reduce violence inside Venezuela.
It does not make Americans safer at home.

What it does do is restrict oil supply in global markets.

Calling this “enforcement” doesn’t change its function. In practice, it is oil market control backed by military force.

Who Benefits From Higher Prices?

When oil supply tightens, prices rise. That benefits companies that produce, trade, and refine oil. It also benefits firms positioned to export fuel into higher-priced global markets.

Those gains are real and measurable.

At the same time, higher prices are felt by consumers and businesses, and the risks associated with enforcement are carried by U.S. servicemembers tasked with patrolling shipping lanes and boarding vessels.

The benefits and the risks are not shared evenly.

The Risk Is Shifted Downward

Oil market enforcement is not abstract. It requires:

• Naval patrols

• Boarding operations

• The risk of escalation with other countries

Those risks are not carried by oil executives or shareholders. They are carried by people in uniform and by their families.

Using military force to influence energy markets shifts risk downward while concentrating reward upward. That tradeoff deserves scrutiny, especially when it is presented as a security necessity rather than an economic choice.

Venezuela Is the Case Study, Not the Exception

What’s happening with Venezuela isn’t new. Similar tactics have been used wherever oil supply intersects with U.S. strategic interests.

Venezuela isn’t being targeted because it poses a unique threat. It’s being targeted because it is economically vulnerable and because its oil still matters in global markets.

That distinction matters.

This isn’t about defending democracy or protecting the public. It’s about controlling supply in a way that benefits a powerful industry.

A Question Worth Asking

If enforcing oil policy requires military power, and if the predictable result is higher prices and higher profits for large oil companies, we should be honest about that reality.

Is this really national security policy?
Or is it energy policy shaped around the interests of Big Oil?

Those questions don’t require defending Venezuela’s government or excusing corruption. They simply require looking clearly at who benefits from these actions — and who bears the cost.

Before accepting the next escalation as necessary or inevitable, it’s worth asking whether this approach serves the public interest, or whether it primarily serves an industry that has long shaped U.S. foreign policy to its advantage.

The U.S. Just Seized a Venezuelan Oil Tanker — And We Have No Legal Right To Do It

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how the U.S. government has been leaning hard on a new “narco-terrorism” story to justify a more aggressive posture toward Venezuela. It’s a narrative built on dramatic language but thin evidence — a story that makes military actions sound like law-enforcement necessities rather than political choices.

Now we have a real test of that narrative:

The United States just seized a massive oil tanker off the coast of Venezuela.

Not a drug boat.

Not a weapons shipment.

A tanker carrying crude oil — the same commodity that has dragged this country into conflict again and again.

And here’s the truth: we have no legal authority to do this.

Not under international law. Not under any treaty. Not under the rules the U.S. once insisted the rest of the world follow.

This isn’t counterterrorism.

It’s not stopping cartels.

It’s a military power grab aimed at someone else’s oil supply.

And the American people are tired of it.

What Actually Happened

U.S. forces — Navy assets, Coast Guard teams, federal tactical units — boarded a foreign-flagged tanker operating near Venezuela’s waters. They took control of the ship, its crew, and its cargo.

Officials immediately framed the move as a “sanctions enforcement” action. They claimed the tanker was tied to illicit trade, that it was carrying oil linked to sanctioned actors, and that the U.S. had every right to intervene.

Venezuela called it what it is: a violation of sovereignty and an act of piracy.

And legally, they’re not wrong.

International Law Isn’t Complicated Here

There are a lot of gray areas in maritime law.

This is not one of them.

The United States cannot:

• Use military force to seize a commercial vessel in another country’s maritime zone.

• Enforce U.S. domestic sanctions on the high seas as if the entire planet is under American jurisdiction.

• Board a ship without UN authorization, treaty authority, or consent from the flag state.

None of those conditions exist here.

So what is the U.S. really enforcing?

Its own power — and its own interests — not international law.

When we condemn other nations for ignoring rules and acting like regional bullies, this is exactly the kind of behavior we’re talking about.

The Story Americans Are Being Told Doesn’t Match the Reality

The government wants people to think this is a narcotics case. It’s not.

They want people to believe this is about terrorism. It’s not.

The cargo wasn’t fentanyl, cocaine, weapons, or anything remotely connected to those threats.

It was oil.

Venezuela’s most important source of revenue.

Cuba’s most important source of energy.

And a long-standing point of U.S. interest in the region.

The “narco-terrorism” language is a smokescreen — a political shortcut that attempts to turn a geopolitical action into a moral crusade. It’s the same strategy used in past decades to sell the public on policies that had far more to do with resources than national security.

Let’s Be Honest: Our Military Is Still Being Used to Control Oil

Most Americans — across the political spectrum — have had enough of oil-driven foreign interventions.

They remember Iraq.

They remember the promises that “energy independence” would finally get the U.S. out of overseas oil conflicts.

They remember being told that our military presence abroad was about democracy, freedom, and global stability.

And here we are again:

• U.S. helicopters chasing down a commercial oil tanker.

• Armed personnel taking control of a foreign cargo.

• Washington insisting it has the right to police global oil flows.

This isn’t what Americans voted for.

It’s not what they were promised.

And it’s not a path to greater security — it’s a recipe for escalation.

You don’t have to support the Venezuelan government to recognize a simple truth:

We are using the U.S. military to interfere with another country’s natural resources.

That is the oldest story in modern American foreign policy — and the one people are most tired of reliving.

Why This Is Bigger Than Venezuela

When a country with as much power as the United States starts seizing commercial ships near foreign coasts, several things happen:

• Other countries stop trusting international rules because they see that we ignore them when convenient.

• Rival powers feel justified in acting the same way.

• Global shipping becomes less stable and more dangerous.

• The U.S. loses the moral authority it once used to shape maritime law and global norms.

And for what?

Another oil shipment? Another opportunity to flex U.S. power? Another crisis framed as a noble mission?

Americans don’t want another conflict tied to oil.

They’re struggling economically. They’re exhausted by foreign entanglements.

They want their government focused on things that actually improve life at home — not replaying the last 50 years of mistakes.

A Pattern We Can’t Ignore

The tanker seizure is not a one-off.

It fits the pattern of the administration’s broader approach:

• Inflate a threat.

• Invoke “terrorism,” “drugs,” or “security.”

• Use military force where legal authority is thin or nonexistent.

• Claim victory and expect the public not to ask too many questions.

This is exactly what the “narco-terrorism” narrative was built for:

to make controversial actions seem inevitable, righteous, and beyond debate.

But nothing about this seizure was inevitable.

And nothing about it was legal.

The Real Question

At some point, Americans deserve to ask:

If we’re no longer supposed to be fighting wars for oil, then why is our military still being used to seize it?

That’s the question at the center of this story.

And it’s a question the administration doesn’t seem eager to answer.

What’s Really Going On in Venezuela? A Look Behind the “Narco-Terrorism” Story

If you’ve been watching the news lately, you’ve probably noticed the White House talking a lot about “narco-terrorists” off the coast of Venezuela. It’s been a steady drumbeat: drug-running boats, criminal networks, threats to the homeland. And then you see the scale of the U.S. military response — carriers, destroyers, covert surveillance, intelligence assets — and something doesn’t quite add up.

It’s the kind of mismatch that makes you lean back and say, “Okay… what’s really going on here?”

So let’s walk through it step by step. No shouting. No conspiracies. Just a clear look at the facts and a few honest questions.

The Official Story: A War on Drug-Traffickers

The administration’s explanation for the escalation is simple and dramatic:

Venezuela is supposedly a major source of narcotics flowing into the United States, and these operations are necessary to crack down on “narco-terrorism.”

It’s a tidy narrative.

Drug traffickers are bad.

Stopping boats full of cocaine sounds defensive, not aggressive.

And the public has been conditioned for decades to accept “drug war = military force.”

It’s an easy sell.

But when you actually look at the data, things start getting weird.

What the Numbers Say

According to the DEA’s own threat assessments, Venezuela is not a major direct source of U.S.-bound cocaine. Most of that stuff comes through the Eastern Pacific or Central America before it ever gets close to the Caribbean. Some Venezuelan shipments exist, but a lot of them head toward Europe or West Africa.

Yes, corruption in the Venezuelan government has been documented.
Yes, some officials have been involved in trafficking.
But the idea that Venezuela is the main artery of drugs flooding into the U.S. simply doesn’t match the empirical record.

And that’s where the story starts to crack. Because if the threat isn’t that big, why is the U.S. response so huge?

Peeling Back the First Layer: Oil

Here’s where motivations start to shift.

Venezuela holds some of the world’s largest heavy-crude reserves. Enormous fields. Massive potential. And for years, U.S. companies — especially Chevron — have been entangled in joint ventures with Venezuela’s state oil company. Those ventures have been hamstrung by sanctions, political instability, failing infrastructure, and contractual uncertainty.

A friendlier government in Caracas would:

• open doors for U.S. investment,

• stabilize long-term oil flows,

• secure sunk capital,

• and reduce dependence on Gulf producers.

So yes, oil is part of the story. Not because Washington wants to “steal” it, but because oil companies and national-security planners have real stakes in how access plays out.

But even that explanation feels incomplete. Because—let’s be honest—the world is changing.

The Energy Landscape Is Moving On

Here’s the thing people misunderstand: clean energy isn’t expanding because we all suddenly became virtuous. It’s expanding because it’s getting cheap.

Solar is now the least expensive source of new electricity in much of the world.
Battery costs keep falling year after year.
Solar-plus-storage is beginning to outcompete natural gas for round-the-clock power.
Electric vehicles are becoming mass-market.

This doesn’t mean oil disappears tomorrow. Far from it. But it does mean the long-term strategic value of controlling foreign oil reserves is slowly declining. The edge just isn’t what it was in 1985 — or even 2005.

So why, in the middle of a global energy transition, is Washington risking conflict to secure leverage over a resource whose future value curve isn’t rising?

That’s where the next set of motives comes in.

Why the White House Isn’t Telling the Full Truth

If you connect the dots, the picture gets clearer — and a lot less flattering. There isn’t one hidden motive. There are several, and none of them make for good sound bites.

The narco narrative polls better than the truth

“Drug traffickers” is a clean, emotionally charged villain.
“Protecting oil investments” or “countering China in the Caribbean” is not.

Admitting regime-change goals would be a diplomatic disaster

Nations remember Iraq. They remember Libya. They remember Chile.
Openly pushing for regime change invites global backlash.

Venezuela is tied into China, Russia, and Iran

All three have deep economic, military, or intelligence relationships there.
Acknowledging that turns the operation into a proxy confrontation — something no White House wants to advertise.

Domestic politics reward looking tough

A high-profile military operation is a convenient way to look decisive, especially during turbulent political seasons.

Legal gray zones matter

“Counter-narcotics” fits under existing authorities.
“Regime pressure” or military coercion does not.
So the label becomes a legal shield.

U.S. companies have billions at stake

Chevron alone has major joint ventures.
If the Venezuelan state collapses unpredictably, those assets could vaporize.

Nobody wants a new migration crisis

A rapid Venezuelan collapse would send another wave of displaced people north.
No administration wants that during an election cycle.

Put bluntly:

The simple drug-interdiction story is political cover.

The real motivations are messier — and far harder to defend publicly.

So What Are We Really Watching?

A policy caught between eras.

On one side: the old Cold War logic — secure oil, counter rivals, exert force.

On the other: an energy market shifting underneath it — cheaper solar, cheaper batteries, new supply chains, new centers of power.

Instead of adjusting to that new reality, Washington is doubling down on familiar, expensive, and increasingly outdated instincts. It’s fighting yesterday’s strategic battles with tomorrow’s budgets.

And the White House can’t admit that openly because it would raise the most obvious question of all:

Why are we risking conflict over a resource whose strategic value is gradually declining?

A More Sensible Path Forward

A smarter U.S. approach would look nothing like the one we’re watching unfold. It would focus on:

• building clean-tech supply chains with partners in the region,

• encouraging transparent investment frameworks,

• using diplomacy instead of force projection,

• supporting regional development to stabilize migration pressures,

• and accelerating clean energy at home to reduce strategic exposure to unstable oil markets.

None of that requires idealism.

It just requires updating the playbook.

Final Thought

If the administration’s explanation doesn’t match the facts…
and if the energy landscape is shifting away from the very resource we’re risking conflict over…
and if the real motivations are a mix of geopolitics, corporate interests, and political optics…
…then maybe the problem isn’t Venezuela at all.

Maybe the problem is that Washington hasn’t adjusted to the world we actually live in — and until it does, we’ll keep seeing military operations justified with stories that don’t quite hold together when you look at the data.