A curious inversion of the social contract is spreading across the globe. Nations from Europe to Southeast Asia are now compelling their most digitally gifted citizens into national service. Not with rifles or uniforms, but with terminals and encryption keys. The cybersecurity draft has arrived.
The logic is rooted in physics as much as policy. Our digital infrastructure grows more interconnected by the day, increasing surface area for attack. Power grids, water treatment plants, financial networks: these are no longer analog systems but churning seas of code. A single zero-day exploit can destabilise a country more thoroughly than a battalion. Governments, recognising this vulnerability, have begun to treat cybersecurity capacity as a strategic resource akin to uranium or oil. And like those resources, they are now nationalising it.
Consider the case of Singapore. In 2022, the Cyber Security Agency announced the ‘Operationally Critical Digital Talent’ scheme. It required all able male citizens to serve in cyber defence units as part of their national service obligation. The programme trains recruits in penetration testing, network defence, and digital forensics. It is a model of efficiency. But it also raises questions about consent, freedom of movement, and the militarisation of a civilian skillset.
Estonia, a nation that rebuilt its digital infrastructure after the 2007 cyber attacks, has long treated cybersecurity as a fourth pillar of defence. Its Defence League includes a volunteer Cyber Defence Unit. But now, compulsory registration of digital skills among young citizens is being debated. The argument is simple: if the state can require you to drive a tank, why not require you to patch a server?
The physics of the situation is clear. Air is a fluid. Water is a fluid. So too is information. And when a fluid bears threat, you build levees. But these levees are built of people. And people have agency.
The ethical landscape is treacherous. Forcing individuals with advanced skills into state service may infringe on personal liberty. Many hackers are white-hat professionals who already serve the public interest. Yet the draft assumes that the state knows best how to deploy these skills. It privileges government-defined threats over other risks. It also creates a perverse incentive: if you are talented with computers, the state may classify you as a weapon. This commodification of human intellect feels like a step backward.
Consider the alternative. The threat is real. In 2021, Colonial Pipeline was taken down by a ransomware group. The attack caused fuel shortages across the US East Coast. The hackers were not state actors. They were criminals. The difference is irrelevant when a child cannot heat milk. The state sees no distinction. It sees an existential threat.
Technological solutions exist. Decentralised systems, better authentication protocols, and quantum-resistant encryption could reduce vulnerability. But these are long-term investments. The draft is immediate.
The biosphere of digital life is collapsing under the weight of its own complexity. Every new connection is a new pathway for attack. The draft is a defensive response to an ecosystem grown too crowded. But it is not a cure. It is a tourniquet.
Data from the International Telecommunication Union shows a global shortfall of 3.4 million cybersecurity professionals in 2022. The draft fills this gap partially but clumsily. It does not address retention or morale. It treats people as resources to be extracted rather than cultivated.
There is a parallel in climate science. We do not draft citizens to build solar panels. We incentivise them. We invest in education and infrastructure. The cybersecurity draft treats the symptom. The underlying problem is a society that has built a digital house of cards and now fears a breeze.
If we are to survive this transition, we must do better. We must build systems that are resilient by design, not reliant on the coercion of their brightest citizens. The choice is not between chaos and conscription. There is a third path. It involves investment in automation, in artificial intelligence for defensive responses, and in ethical education that makes skilled individuals want to serve willingly.
But the path of least resistance is the draft. And many nations are walking it now. The question is what kind of world they are building with these forced hands.
