War Is a Racket After Nearly a Century: What We Have Learned About Power, Profit, Technology, and Human Responsibility
- Apr 17
- 11 min read
Nearly one hundred years after the publication of War Is a Racket, the short but powerful work of Major General Smedley Butler still speaks to modern readers with surprising force. First published in 1935, the book argued that war often serves interests that are not openly presented to the public, and that the financial and political gains of a few may be hidden behind the language of patriotism, security, and necessity. Butler’s message was direct, moral, and uncomfortable. He did not deny that nations face dangers. He did not claim that every military action is identical. Instead, he forced readers to ask a harder question: who benefits, who pays, and who decides? The book was published in 1935, after Butler’s long military career, and it emerged from a period of public reflection on World War I and the relationship between state power, business interest, and military intervention.
Today, Butler’s work has become relevant again for reasons that are both old and new. The old reason is simple: the structural relationship between organized violence and organized profit never fully disappeared. The new reason is more complex: contemporary conflict is no longer defined only by armies, tanks, and industrial weapons production. It is now shaped by drones, cyber capabilities, artificial intelligence, digital infrastructure, data concentration, autonomous systems, and global supply chains. In other words, the political economy of war has become more technological, more distributed, and in some ways less visible. That makes Butler’s central concern even more important. If war in his time was a racket linked to industry, then in our time it may also be a system linked to software, semiconductors, surveillance, cloud computing, and algorithmic power. This is one reason the book deserves renewed academic attention in 2026.
The timing of this reflection is especially significant because the last month has shown how rapidly conflict, defence investment, and technology strategy are converging. Recent reporting and policy analysis indicate that global defence spending rose in 2025 to about USD 2.63 trillion, up from USD 2.48 trillion in 2024. At the same time, recent European cooperation with Ukraine has centered heavily on drone manufacturing and battlefield innovation, while diplomatic talks in Geneva have continued to struggle with how to govern lethal autonomous weapons and preserve meaningful human control. These developments make Butler’s argument newly relevant not because the world is identical to 1935, but because the institutional questions remain familiar: economic incentives, weak transparency, and the moral distance between decision-makers and those who bear the consequences of war.
The Enduring Core of Butler’s Argument
What makes War Is a Racket endure is not only its emotional power, but its analytical structure. Butler did three important things. First, he reframed war from a heroic national story into an economic and organizational problem. Second, he emphasized asymmetry: profits are often concentrated while suffering is widely distributed. Third, he insisted that citizens must look beyond official narratives and examine systems of incentive, procurement, and power. This structure remains intellectually useful because it can be applied well beyond the military field. In management studies, for example, scholars often ask how institutions behave when incentives reward expansion, opacity, and short-term gain. Butler was asking a similar question in moral language long before the modern vocabulary of governance became common.
His insight also connects to the study of organizations. Institutions do not act only because of declared values. They also act because of budgets, career systems, internal cultures, lobbying networks, supply chains, and performance measures. War, in this sense, is not merely an event. It can become an ecosystem. Once many actors depend on its continuation, it develops administrative momentum. Contracts, employment, research funding, political prestige, and industrial planning begin to reinforce one another. Butler saw this dynamic in an earlier industrial age. What changes in the twenty-first century is not the disappearance of the ecosystem, but its digitalization.
This is why the book should not be read simply as a protest text. It should also be read as an early warning about governance failure. When incentives become detached from ethical responsibility, organizations can normalize outcomes that would appear unacceptable if seen clearly. Modern readers may recognize this pattern not only in warfare but also in environmental damage, irresponsible finance, technological misuse, and weak AI oversight. The deeper lesson is that institutions can become highly efficient in producing outcomes that society has not fully consented to, especially when the costs are externalized to others.
Why the Book Matters More in the Age of AI and Drones
In 2026, it is no longer enough to discuss war only in terms of territory and ideology. Conflict is increasingly mediated by technological capacity. Recent official and expert sources underline that general-purpose AI systems are advancing rapidly, that their risks require management, and that governance is now a central question for both public institutions and private firms. The 2026 International AI Safety Report describes itself as a scientific assessment of what advanced AI systems can do, what risks they pose, and how those risks can be managed. It was produced with input from more than 100 independent experts and support from over 30 countries and international organizations. That scale alone shows that AI is now treated as a serious strategic issue, not merely a consumer technology trend.
At the same time, current conflict shows how quickly military strategy is adapting to low-cost and scalable technologies. In April 2026, Germany and Ukraine announced a cooperation plan that included a major drone production agreement, described by Reuters as potentially one of the largest of its kind in Europe, with a joint venture intended to supply thousands of drones. One day later, the Netherlands announced 248 million euros for drone production for Ukraine and openly noted that such cooperation also creates opportunities for domestic business. These details matter academically because they show the fusion of defence need, industrial learning, and economic interest. Such arrangements may be strategically understandable, but they also demonstrate how quickly war can become an innovation accelerator and a market opportunity. This is exactly the kind of structural development Butler would have urged citizens to examine carefully.
Moreover, the international debate over lethal autonomous weapons shows that the governance problem is no longer hypothetical. Reuters reported on March 3, 2026, that states in Geneva were again confronting the urgent need for rules on such systems, with concerns linked to AI-assisted semi-autonomous weapons already used in conflicts including Ukraine, Sudan, Gaza, and the Gulf region. The same report noted that while states generally agree that international humanitarian law applies, specific internationally binding standards remain largely absent. This gap is crucial. Butler warned about systems in which human lives are subordinated to organized interests. In the age of AI-assisted warfare, the danger is not only profit but also accountability loss. If systems identify, select, or engage targets with reduced human intervention, the moral chain between decision and consequence becomes harder to trace.
That is why War Is a Racket should now be read through a dual lens: political economy and technological governance. The book teaches us to ask who benefits. Modern AI governance asks who controls, who audits, who is accountable, and who can intervene. Together, these questions create a stronger framework than either one alone.
The Management Lesson: Incentives Matter More Than Slogans
One of the most useful lessons from Butler for modern management is that declared purpose does not automatically determine actual behavior. Organizations often say one thing and reward another. A corporation may speak about ethics while rewarding aggressive growth. A government may speak about peace while expanding procurement mechanisms that normalize permanent preparedness. A platform may speak about trust while monetizing engagement regardless of social cost. The management lesson is not that all institutions are dishonest. It is that incentives, reporting lines, and performance systems usually shape behavior more strongly than mission statements.
This has important implications for leaders in business, higher education, public administration, and technology. If institutions want to avoid the kind of moral distortion Butler described, they must design governance systems that make ethical reflection operational. That means transparent procurement, clear lines of accountability, independent audit, conflict-of-interest controls, explainable decision processes, and decision rights that cannot be hidden behind technical complexity. Good governance is not a decorative principle. It is a structural design choice.
This point becomes even stronger when one looks at corporate AI adoption. A UNESCO and Thomson Reuters Foundation report released on 31 March 2026, based on 3,000 companies, found that 44% reported having an AI strategy, but only 10% were publicly committed to following an AI governance framework. The report also noted that only 11% said they evaluate environmental impact and only 7% assess human rights impact in relation to AI use. These figures are very important for management scholars because they suggest a familiar pattern: strategy adoption is spreading much faster than robust governance practice. In simple terms, organizations are eager to deploy powerful tools, but slower to build the oversight needed to use them responsibly. Butler would have understood this imbalance immediately.
The business relevance is clear. Weak governance creates reputational risk, regulatory exposure, operational failure, and strategic fragility. It can also produce an illusion of efficiency. A system may look productive in the short term because it reduces friction, speeds up decision-making, or cuts labor costs. But if it lacks accountability, it can generate hidden long-term costs that are much greater. This is true in finance, in education, in technology, and certainly in matters of war and security. Butler’s warning was that societies often discover the real bill only after the damage is done.
The Technology Lesson: Innovation Is Not the Same as Progress
Another lesson after nearly one hundred years is that technological innovation should never be confused automatically with moral or social progress. Modern societies often celebrate speed, scale, automation, and disruption. These qualities can be valuable. They can support medicine, transport, learning, public services, and productivity. But the history of warfare reminds us that technological brilliance can coexist with ethical failure. A more advanced tool is not necessarily a wiser one.
Recent analysis from Reuters argued that in a world of geopolitical rivalry, technology has become the central victor. The article described how conflict, fragmentation, cybersecurity demands, and higher military spending are all feeding demand for digital infrastructure, chips, AI systems, and resilient supply chains. In that sense, war no longer affects only borders or armies; it also reshapes investment flows, industrial policy, and technological competition. The article’s deeper message is that geopolitical fragmentation may actually reinforce technology demand rather than weaken it. This is economically significant, but ethically complex. It means that instability can become a driver of commercial expansion in advanced sectors. That reality sits very close to Butler’s original concern: violence and insecurity can create market opportunities for actors far from the battlefield.
This does not mean technology companies are morally equivalent to arms dealers, nor does it mean every security investment is exploitative. Such claims would be too simple. The more careful academic argument is that modern conflict economies are layered. They include traditional military manufacturers, data firms, cloud providers, software developers, cybersecurity contractors, logistics platforms, sensor makers, drone producers, and semiconductor supply networks. Some of these actors operate primarily for legitimate security or resilience purposes. Yet the system as a whole still requires scrutiny because commercial reward can become linked to prolonged insecurity.
In this context, War Is a Racket helps modern readers resist the romance of innovation. It asks us to remain critical when speed, novelty, and profit begin to overpower responsibility. The key question is not whether a system is technically impressive, but whether it is socially governed.
The Human Lesson: Distance Reduces Moral Imagination
Butler’s text was fundamentally human in orientation. He reminded readers that the losses of war are measured in lives, bodies, and broken communities, not only in budgets. This human emphasis remains essential today because modern technology can create psychological distance. Remote warfare, automated targeting support, simulation environments, abstract dashboards, and strategic language can all reduce emotional contact with consequences. When distance grows, moral imagination often shrinks.
This is not only a military problem. It is also an educational problem and a managerial problem. If leaders are trained to evaluate systems only through cost, speed, efficiency, or output, they may become less capable of recognizing human harm when it is indirect. Universities therefore have a serious responsibility. They should not teach management, engineering, international business, or AI as purely technical fields. They should also teach responsibility, public reasoning, ethical uncertainty, and institutional accountability.
For a university audience, this is where the book becomes especially valuable. Students do not need to agree with every policy proposal Butler made in the 1930s to learn from his intellectual courage. What matters is his method of moral inquiry. He asked readers to look behind narratives, examine incentive structures, and center human consequences. That is excellent academic training. It encourages interdisciplinary thinking between business, politics, history, law, technology, and ethics.
What We Have Learned After Nearly 100 Years
After nearly a century, what have we learned from War Is a Racket?
First, we have learned that war cannot be understood only through official explanation. It must also be examined through institutional incentives, material interests, and organizational systems. Public language matters, but budgets and contracts matter too.
Second, we have learned that profit and patriotism can coexist in ways that are difficult to separate. This does not automatically invalidate every defence action, but it means transparency is always necessary.
Third, we have learned that technology does not solve the moral problem of war. It often relocates it. Drones, AI, cyber tools, and data systems may reduce some forms of risk while creating others, especially around accountability and escalation.
Fourth, we have learned that governance usually develops more slowly than capability. Whether in defence procurement or AI adoption, institutions tend to deploy new power faster than they build systems to control it. Recent international debates on autonomous weapons and recent corporate data on AI governance both confirm this pattern.
Fifth, we have learned that education matters. Citizens, managers, engineers, policymakers, and scholars need analytical tools that connect ethics with structure. Outrage alone is not enough. Institutions change when oversight, transparency, design, and accountability improve.
Finally, we have learned that Butler’s greatest contribution may not be a historical judgment about one era, but a permanent question for all eras: are we willing to examine the systems from which powerful actors benefit, even when the answer is uncomfortable?
Conclusion
War Is a Racket remains relevant in 2026 not because history has stood still, but because the central tension Butler identified has evolved rather than disappeared. The world now faces conflicts shaped by autonomous systems, defence-industrial partnerships, AI governance gaps, and vast new investments in digital and military infrastructure. Yet beneath these modern forms lies a familiar pattern: concentrated gains, distributed suffering, and incomplete accountability. Recent events from the last month, including expanded drone production partnerships and continuing global concern over autonomous weapons governance, show that the relationship between war, technology, and industry is becoming more important, not less.
For contemporary readers, especially in higher education, the book offers a powerful interdisciplinary lesson. It is a text about war, but also about management. It is a text about history, but also about technology governance. It is a text about economics, but also about ethics. Most importantly, it reminds us that progress without responsibility is unstable. If societies want security, they must not only build capabilities. They must also build conscience, oversight, and intellectual honesty.
Nearly one hundred years later, Butler’s challenge still stands. We should not ask only whether a nation can fight, innovate, or dominate. We should ask whether it can govern power without becoming captive to the systems that profit from fear. That may be the most important lesson of all.

Sources used for this article
Smedley D. Butler, War Is a Racket (1935 edition)
Internet Archive record for War Is a Racket
International Institute for Strategic Studies, The Military Balance 2026: Global Defence Spending
Reuters, “Progress on rules for lethal autonomous weapons urgently needed, says chair of Geneva talks” (3 March 2026)
Reuters, “Merz and Zelenskiy sign drone and defence cooperation accords” (14 April 2026)
Reuters, “Netherlands to spend nearly 300 million euros on drones for Ukraine” (15 April 2026)
Reuters, “In the world of war and rivalry, tech is the victor” (16 April 2026)
International AI Safety Report 2026, Executive Summary and policymaker summary
UNESCO and Thomson Reuters Foundation, “Responsible AI in Practice” / report announcement (31 March 2026)





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