Navigating Modern Chaos: Lessons from History on Psychological Resilience
In an era where geopolitical tensions can shift dramatically overnight, many Britons find themselves grappling with a pervasive sense of unease. The recent volatility surrounding former US President Donald Trump's statements on Greenland has highlighted how quickly global stability can appear to unravel, leaving ordinary citizens feeling powerless and anxious.
The War of Nerves: Then and Now
Historical parallels offer striking insights into our current predicament. During the period between the Munich crisis of 1938 and the beginning of the Blitz in September 1940, Britain experienced what historians term a war of nerves. Professor Julie Gottlieb's research into letters, diaries, and newspapers from that era reveals a population consumed by fear of the unknown, with contemporary reports describing threats of mysterious weapons and psychological warfare designed to stampede the civilian population into terror.
This historical context feels remarkably familiar today. Trump's recent geopolitical posturing—threatening military action against Greenland before abruptly retreating—creates similar psychological turbulence. The uncertainty becomes a form of modern psychological warfare, where the constant threat of disruption wears down civilian resilience.
The Emotional Toll of Living in Limbo
Contrary to the popular Keep Calm and Carry On mythology, historical evidence shows that Britons struggled emotionally during that pre-war period. Suicide rates increased slightly, companies marketed nerve tonics to the anxious, and reports documented everything from women buying hats to lift spirits to more serious accounts of nervous breakdowns.
Today, similar emotional strains manifest differently. Emily Thornberry, Labour chair of the foreign affairs select committee, recently described how a friend became so distressed watching Keir Starmer's press conference on Greenland that she burst into tears. Parents field difficult questions from teenage sons about potential conscription, while business owners brace for economic uncertainty knowing anxious consumers tend to stop spending.
The Disconnect Between Threat and Daily Life
Walking out of a bleak briefing on Trump at the Institute for Government thinktank onto streets filled with joggers, window-shoppers, and diners going about their normal routines creates a surreal disconnect. This public mood mirrors the weeks before the first Covid lockdown, when pubs remained full even as intensive care wards overflowed.
Yet this apparent normalcy might contain wisdom. When facing situations beyond individual control—what can an ordinary British person realistically do about a rogue US president?—people adapt by imposing routine on chaos. This survival mechanism helped communities through lockdowns, sustained Belfast during the Troubles, and forms the basis of Finnish advice about maintaining daily routines despite geopolitical threats.
Building Practical Resilience
Scandinavian approaches offer valuable frameworks for emotional sturdiness. Denmark emphasizes fostering emotional resilience in children, while Finland celebrates sisu—that particular blend of collective grit and resolve developed through harsh winters and proximity to Russia. This resilience doesn't rely solely on individual toughness but on strong social bonds that encourage communities to pool resources during crises.
Practical preparedness forms another crucial component. Following official advice about preparing for potential disruptions to power, water, or internet—designed to counter hybrid warfare threats—can provide a sense of control that counteracts the soul-sapping feeling of powerlessness. Though preparing for worst-case scenarios may not sound soothing, it can paradoxically reduce anxiety by making the unknown more manageable.
The Art of Strategic Disconnection
Perhaps the most challenging skill in our hyper-connected age is knowing when to disengage. During the 1961 Cuban missile crisis, the absence of rolling news and smartphones allowed people to temporarily block out existential threats. Today, social media culture often portrays looking away as immoral, creating pressure to bear constant witness to global crises.
Yet resilience in 2026 isn't about doomscrolling into depression but about strategically arming oneself with sufficient information before putting the phone down. As Virginia Woolf noted in her 1940 diary—written as Holland and Belgium were invaded—it's the combination of the vastness and the smallness that makes enduring horror possible. Her observation about apple blossom snowing in the garden while geopolitical catastrophe unfolded captures the essential balance: small joys make overwhelming realities psychologically absorbable.
Surviving a modern war of nerves means recognizing that living only in the vastness would drive anyone mad. Sometimes, resilience looks like watching apple blossom fall, maintaining routines, strengthening community bonds, and knowing when to step back from the chaos to preserve one's sanity.
