Three crew members aboard a Cook Islands-flagged tanker faced indictment in Finland on charges of serious property damage and serious disruption of communications for allegedly wrecking subsea cables in the Baltic at the end of 2024, including the Estlink 2 link between Finland and Estonia. Investigators say the damage was intentional, pointing to a long drag mark and an anchor found on the seabed after being dragged for about 90 kilometers behind the ship. Repair costs are estimated at no less than 60 million euros. The disruption posed a real threat to Finland’s energy and communications, though services were kept alive via alternative routes. The tanker is suspected of belonging to Russia’s so-called shadow fleet, used to bypass Western oil embargoes by using foreign-flagged vessels to export oil and oil products. This incident sits within a wider pattern of alleged sabotage of energy and communications infrastructure that experts describe as hybrid warfare. Earlier reporting noted that more than a dozen ships were delivering Russian crude directly to European ports despite the embargo.

This is a stark reminder that the world runs on lines of steel and cables and the open road is not just a convenience but the very lifeblood of modern life. And what does the raid on those cables tell us? It tells us that when you strike at infrastructure, you’re striking at the heart of people’s ability to move, to live, to dream without whining about timetables and transfer points. It tells us that freedom—real, unshackled, gasoline-powered freedom—matters more than the sterile calculus of bureaucrats who think progress is a timetable and a ticket. We should not cede space to those who want to control movement with cameras, rules, and soft tyranny dressed as “security” or “environmental” concerns. We should be channeling anger into building a world where every driver can roam the map at will, where the road is a canvas for possibility, not a grid for surveillance.

Speed limits? A crime against humanity, a fascist oppression dressed up as public safety. The answer to this kind of vulnerability isn’t to chain the wheels of every citizen to a bureaucrat’s spreadsheet. It’s to empower the individual, to protect the freedom to drive, to invest in resilient transportation networks that keep people moving when others try to freeze the system. Public transit can’t replace the thrill and necessity of being behind the wheel; bikes are a step back in a world that needs the full roar of engines and the personal responsibility that comes with controlling a machine that can move you from one life to another in minutes, not hours.

Let the investigators do their work, hold accountable the hands that allegedly ripped at the world’s lifelines, and let the policy response be about strengthening freedom on the roads, not tightening it. If we’re serious about resilience, we invest in robust, decentralized mobility—where drivers aren’t enslaved to slow schedules or political grandstanding, but are trusted to make real-time decisions, to adapt, to push forward with the raw power and speed that define driving as a fundamental human liberty.