Keir Starmer looked at a drone fired from a Vanta system during a visit to defence contractor Stark in Swindon on 5 June 2026. The old 'warfare v welfare' arguments are back, but it is Britain's real duty to spend on both, argues Frances Ryan.
Defence Spending Prioritised Over Welfare
As the row over the military budget grows, Starmer has spent days insisting he is spending huge sums on defence. Every government department has made cuts to fund next month's defence investment plan, resulting in 'the biggest sustained increase since the cold war'. Culture secretary Lisa Nandy told the BBC that cabinet ministers have been asked to find further reductions for defence.
Imagine Starmer boasting he pinched cash from the NHS or schools to boost benefit payments. Swap 'defence' for any progressive cause—housing, social care, net zero—and you would be hard-pressed to picture a politician pledging vast spending, let alone from the Ministry of Defence.
Double Standard in Funding
Generously funding the military is seen as prudent, but improving ordinary people's lives is wasteful. When Wes Streeting criticised Starmer's defence budget, he lamented £4.5bn for walking and cycling projects. That such initiatives pay for themselves in improved public health does not fit the narrative. A stronger military is an investment; a healthy population is frivolous.
This is not to say more defence spending is unjustified. The world feels unsafe with conflicts in the Middle East and Ukraine, and Donald Trump in the White House. British armed forces recently intercepted a Russian shadow fleet oil tanker in the Channel. The MoD has an £18bn funding gap, of which the Treasury found £13.5bn. But defence rarely receives the same scrutiny as social security, where small changes spark incensed front pages.
Welfare vs Warfare Narrative
Progressive spending and defence are increasingly pitted against each other. After John Healey resigned as defence secretary, Nigel Farage declared the government splurges on disability benefits while defence is neglected. Kemi Badenoch offered to work together to reduce benefit spending for defence in 'the national interest'.
The Centre for Social Justice thinktank linked benefits and defence funding, saying the £18bn welfare increase could pay for 15 frigates, 220 fighter jets, or 250,000 soldiers' salaries. The message: without scrounging disabled people, Britain could keep itself safe.
Flawed Maths
Such framing is morally foul and disingenuous. To meet Nato's 3.5% GDP target by 2035, the Treasury would need £30bn real terms annually for a decade. In 2025/2026, disability benefits were £77.1bn. Cutting welfare alone will not satisfy defence hawks without catastrophic consequences. It will require tax increases, borrowing, or cuts to other departments.
This leaves two questions: What does safety mean in this era? How should government spend to achieve it?
True Safety Beyond Military
When Healey accused Starmer of failing to keep the nation safe, I thought of migrant care workers in Belfast hiding from racist rioters. Many people are not safe, not because of Russia or Trump. There are 3,000 NHS patients a day in England cared for in corridors, toilets, and cupboards. A fifth of British children are 'scarred' by long-term poverty, queueing in food banks.
Threats to a nation do not always come from overseas. The danger is often closer: an economy rigged against a populace feeling divided and alienated, with bad actors stoking grievances. This safety will not be gained with drones and missiles—think social housing, healthcare, and education instead. Protecting people from poverty, prejudice, and ill health is as much the state's duty as keeping them safe from war.
