While the World Watches the Games

 

We’re a little more than halfway through the Winter Olympics as I write this. For as far back as I can remember, I’ve been a complete junkie for the Games—the competition, the glamour, the drama of it all. I could never get enough.

But this year, I haven’t watched a single minute.

Why?

Four years ago, while I was soaking in every Olympic moment, Russian troops were massing along the borders of Ukraine and Belarus. The signs of invasion were unmistakable. President Biden issued warnings and declassified intelligence in an effort to alert the world. Vladimir Putin denied everything.

On February 24, 2022, he launched a brutal invasion of Ukraine.

No one gave Ukraine much of a chance. The consensus was that Kyiv would fall within days—three at most. I knew almost nothing about Ukraine beyond the fact that it appeared to be doomed. I felt sympathy, certainly. But I assumed it would be over quickly, and life would move on.

Ukraine, however, never got the memo.

When offered evacuation by the United States, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy reportedly replied, “I need ammunition, not a ride.” It was a David-versus-Goliath moment that will live in history.

For the first year, the American people—and our government—stood firmly behind Ukraine. But wars that drag on lose their headline appeal. The daily updates blurred together. Attention spans shifted. Then came the presidential election circus, and Ukraine slipped quietly out of the spotlight.

Now, three years later, much of the world has moved on.

Meanwhile, Ukraine has endured relentless bombardment—attacks on power grids, heating systems, and civilian infrastructure, especially during these past brutal winter months. Millions live with rolling blackouts and freezing nights of below zero temperatures and wind chills. Russia’s campaign is not merely territorial; it aims at erasing identity, culture, and sovereignty. That would be a genocide larger than the holocaust.

And still, Ukraine fights on.

Ukraine is now home to the most battle-tested military force in Europe. No other European nation has comparable recent combat experience defending against Russia. If Ukraine were to fall, that hardened force would not simply disappear. It would become part of Russia’s expanded war machine—the tip of the spear for further aggression.

Imagine the consequences.

The European Union represents one of the three largest economies on Earth, alongside the United States and China. A broader European war would not remain “over there.” It would ripple across global markets, supply chains, energy systems, and financial institutions. Refugee flows would surge. Factories would go dark. Trade routes would fracture.

Southwest Virginia would feel it. So would every other corner of this country.

Yet as I write this, much of the United States—and much of the world—is captivated by figure skating scores and downhill finishes. There’s nothing wrong with celebrating athletic excellence. I’ve loved it my whole life. But this year, my mind isn't able to process the horrors of war with the glitz and glamor of the games. It feels like a betrayal of my values and I refuse to be distracted from the hard realities that exist for Ukraine, Europe and the rest of us. So I choose to pass on the Olympics this year. 

Autocrats count on fatigue. They count on short memories. They count on the world’s attention drifting to something shinier. Four years ago, many of us assumed Ukraine would collapse in days. It didn’t. Today, assuming the threat has passed would be an equally serious mistake.

I’d genuinely like to hear your thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, civil discussion is the bedrock of democracy. I hope our exchanges remain thoughtful, respectful, and productive.

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Thank you for reading—and for walking this road with me.