Vol. IV, No. 89
Covering 4 May - 17 May 2026
Monday, May 18, 2026
Late edition · A Relentless publication
All the fortnight that mattered, in technology and in the world, read next to what we were building at the time.
UKRAINE

Russia's oil revenues surge to a wartime high, funded by a Gulf war it never fired a shot in

The war meant to weaken Iran has enriched Russia. With oil elevated by the Gulf shock, Russian oil revenues have climbed to their highest level since the 2022 invasion, pouring money into the war Moscow is still waging in Ukraine. The strong struck Iran; the unintended beneficiary, a hemisphere away, is the aggressor in Europe.

The clearest lesson of the fortnight was written not in the Gulf but in Ukraine, where the consequences of a war fought a thousand miles away arrived in the most cynical form imaginable. Russian oil revenues climbed to their highest level since the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, lifted by the very oil shock that the war against Iran had unleashed, pouring revenue into the Kremlin's coffers at exactly the moment it was pressing its grinding campaign against Kyiv. The war designed in Washington and Jerusalem to weaken one adversary had, through the interconnected plumbing of the world's energy markets, materially strengthened another, funding the Russian war machine with the price shock of the Gulf war, so that the missiles falling on Ukrainian cities this fortnight were, in a real and traceable sense, paid for by a conflict Russia had no part in fighting.

The war in Ukraine ground on beneath the world's distraction, Russian strikes continuing to kill civilians in Kyiv and other cities, the imposed peace of the previous winter still taking its slow and unequal shape, and Moscow negotiating from a position that the oil windfall had quietly strengthened. The great powers' attention remained fixed on the Gulf and its economic aftershocks; and in that gap of attention, funded by that aftershock, the aggressor in Europe pressed its advantage, the unintended and undeserved beneficiary of the strong's decision to strike the weak in another region entirely.

THE ECONOMY

The downturn deepens as the shock works through the system

The oil shock continued its migration into the real economy, the recession odds staying elevated as the war's inflationary jolt worked through supply chains and household budgets. The ceasefire in the Gulf held, fraying, keeping oil high enough to sustain both the economic pain and the Russian windfall it fed. And the interconnection of it all, a Gulf war setting the oil price that funds a European war that further destabilises the global economy, stood as a lesson in how thoroughly the world's conflicts and markets have become a single system, in which a blow struck at one point emerges, transformed and often reversed, at another.

IN BRIEF

The carrier, the base, the toll

France deployed an aircraft carrier to the Red Sea for a maritime-security mission, as European powers moved to protect the shipping lanes the war had imperilled. A jihadist group seized a military base in Mali after government troops withdrew, one of the season's several reminders that the world's other wars had not paused for this one. And across Lebanon, Israeli strikes continued to kill despite the ceasefire framework, the fraying truce claiming lives in the register that no longer makes the front page.

The Column

The blow that lands somewhere else

A war fought to weaken Iran has enriched Russia. This is about the oldest law in the study of human action, the law of unintended consequences, because a world this interconnected has made it not an occasional irony but the central fact of strategy.

The most instructive thing to happen this fortnight was an irony: that the war waged to weaken Iran has, through the world's energy markets, materially strengthened Russia, funding the Kremlin's war in Ukraine with the oil-price shock of the Gulf. But the irony is worth treating not as an irony but as an instance of a law, the law of unintended consequences, because in a world as densely interconnected as ours it has stopped being the occasional surprise that punctuates strategy and become the central fact that strategy must reckon with, and mostly does not.

The sociologist Robert Merton gave the phenomenon its rigorous treatment nearly a century ago, in an analysis of what he called the unanticipated consequences of purposive social action. Merton's insight was that deliberate action aimed at a goal reliably produces effects beyond the goal, and that these unanticipated effects arise not from stupidity or carelessness but from structural features of action itself: from the impossibility of foreseeing all the consequences of an act in a complex system, from the way the immediate interest in the intended result crowds out attention to the secondary ones, and from the sheer interconnection of a world in which every action propagates through channels the actor did not model and often did not know existed. The strategist plans for the intended consequence, the destruction of Iran's programme, and does not plan for the second-order effect, the oil-price shock, or the third-order effect, the Russian revenue windfall, or the fourth, the funding of a European war, because these lie outside the frame of the intention, in the vast space of everything the action also does that it was not for.

The counterargument, and it is a fair one, is that this can become an excuse for paralysis or for cynicism, the claim that since every action has unforeseeable consequences, no action can be judged and no strategy attempted, which is both false and dangerous, because inaction has unintended consequences too, and the demand for perfect foresight before acting is a recipe for never acting at all. This is true, and I do not draw the fatalist's conclusion. The point is not that unintended consequences make strategy impossible; it is that they make a particular kind of strategy, the kind that plans only for its intended result and treats the rest of the system as inert background, reliably catastrophic, and that this narrow kind is precisely the kind that great powers, intoxicated by the clarity of their immediate objective, most often practise. The failure is not acting despite uncertainty; it is acting as though the only consequence that mattered was the one you intended, in a system that guarantees there will be others, often larger, often reversing the very advantage you sought.

Because that is what makes this fortnight's irony more than an irony. The Gulf war's planners had a clear and measurable intended consequence and pursued it with tactical brilliance, and the world's interconnection then delivered a set of unintended ones that may well outweigh it: an enriched Russia, a funded war in Ukraine, a global economic shock, a hardened Iran, a proliferation lesson taught to every watching state. None of these was the goal; all of them were the predictable output of a purposive action in a system too complex for the actor's frame, and the tragedy is that they were predictable in the general even though not in the specific, because the law of unintended consequences does not tell you which blow will land elsewhere but it tells you, with certainty, that blows will. A strategy worthy of the name would treat that certainty as its central design constraint, would ask not only what its action is intended to achieve but what else, in a connected world, it will inevitably set in motion, and would weigh the intended good against the unintended harm that the interconnection guarantees. The Gulf war's strategy did not. It planned for the target and got the world, and the world, this fortnight, sent the bill to Kyiv.

Field Notes
A Relentless build, told plainly

Building the thing that shows the client the work

Away from the war, the ordinary work continues, and this fortnight much of mine was on a system with a deceptively simple purpose: letting a client see, at any moment, exactly where their project stands. It sounds trivial. It is one of the hardest and most valuable things a delivery organisation can build. No client is named.

Most of my work this fortnight had nothing to do with the news, which is how most work is, and it was on a system whose entire purpose is to let a client see, at any moment and without having to ask, exactly where their project actually stands: what is done, what is in progress, what is stuck and why. This sounds like the most mundane thing imaginable, a status dashboard, and I want to explain why it is in fact one of the hardest and most valuable systems a delivery organisation can build, because the difficulty and the value are both instructive about the nature of trust in professional work.

The reason it is hard is that honest visibility is the opposite of how professional services usually manages its clients. The traditional model runs on controlled information: the client is shown a curated, reassuring version of progress, the bad news is managed and timed, and the gap between what is really happening and what the client is told is the space in which a great deal of the industry's dysfunction lives. To build a system that shows the client the true state of the work, continuously and without a human filter, is to give up that controlled information, to make the reality visible whether it is flattering or not, and every instinct of the traditional model resists it, because it removes the comfortable buffer between the messy truth of the work and the client's perception of it.

And that removal is precisely the value, which is the part worth understanding. A system that shows the client the real state of the work builds a kind of trust that no amount of managed reassurance ever can, because it is trust founded on verification rather than on faith: the client does not have to believe your status report because they can see the status themselves, and a claim they can check for themselves is worth infinitely more than one they must take on trust. This is the same principle I wrote about when Silicon Valley Bank collapsed, that trust is the real infrastructure, except that here it runs in the constructive direction: a system that makes the truth continuously visible manufactures trust the way a well-built foundation manufactures stability, quietly and structurally, so that it is simply there, load-bearing, unremarked. The hard part is not the software. The hard part is the decision to build a thing that will show your client the truth even on the days the truth is not flattering, and then to build your delivery to be good enough that the visible truth is one you are willing to be seen. Build the honest system, and it forces you to deserve the trust it creates. That is not a constraint on the work. It is the discipline that makes the work worth trusting.

The Ledger
AI
The recession works through the system; the AI build-out's first macroeconomic test continues, its outcome, per the previous edition's frame, likely to sort the durable infrastructure from the speculative overshoot rather than to refute the technology itself.
Data centers & power
Oil stays elevated on the fraying ceasefire, keeping the energy cost that dominates the build-out's economics high; the physical foundation remains, as this paper has insisted, the binding constraint and now the visible one.
Rates
The stagflationary bind persists, an inflation the Fed cannot cut into and a recession it cannot hike into; the Russian oil windfall is a reminder that the price keeping the bind alive is set by a war a hemisphere away.
Real estate
US 30-year mortgage near 6.5 percent; the market waits on an oil price held up by a distant, fraying ceasefire it cannot influence.
India tech
India navigates the interconnection carefully, its oil imports caught in the shock, its long-standing ties to Russia complicating its position; Delhi's non-alignment faces the test of a world where every conflict feeds every other through the markets.
What we called wrong
Nothing to retract. This paper argued that the Gulf war would produce consequences its planners had not weighed; the Russian oil windfall funding the war in Ukraine is exactly the kind of second-order effect the warning anticipated, arriving through the interconnection the strategy ignored.
The Back Page

The system that is the world

There is an old comfort in believing that a war over there stays over there, that a decision made in one capital about one adversary is a discrete act with discrete effects, contained, bounded, yours to control. This fortnight put the comfort to rest. A war fought in the Gulf set an oil price that funded a war in Ukraine and deepened a recession in economies that touched neither conflict, and the lesson, which this paper has been assembling fortnight by fortnight for three years, is that there is no over-there anymore, that the world has become a single connected system in which every large action propagates everywhere, transformed and often reversed by the time it arrives. The planners who struck Iran were not thinking about Kyiv, or about the price of gas in a Midwestern town, or about an airline's fuel bill, and yet they were acting on all of them, because in a connected system you cannot act on one part without acting on all of it, whether you know it or not. That is the world we have built, densely wired, its every part connected to every other, and it demands a kind of thinking, systemic, humble, alert to the blow that lands somewhere else, that its most powerful actors have been the slowest to learn. The system is the world now. And it sends its bills, as this fortnight showed, to addresses no one intended.