While much of the West debates "safe spaces" and gender-neutral pronouns in schools, tiny Latvia — sharing a long border with Russia and Belarus — has taken a radically different path. Since September 2024, every high school student in Latvia undergoes compulsory "National Defense Education." Over two years (112 hours total), they learn military history, marching, land navigation with compass and map, first aid, crisis response, and weapons handling — including shooting air rifles that closely resemble real assault rifles.

Students lie on the grass, load magazines, and fire at paper targets under strict commands. The goal, according to Latvian officers, is not to create instant soldiers but to forge more responsible, resilient citizens who lose their phobia of military matters and understand the need to defend their country.

This is the direction Australia should have taken with national service and school cadets.

What Latvia is Doing Right Now

Facing the real threat of Russian aggression (just across the border that Belarus used to stage the invasion of Ukraine), Latvia has accelerated its preparations:

Mandatory defence training in all high schools.

Reintroduced military conscription for men (with volunteers exceeding draftees).

Strong National Guard (Zemessardze) and Youth Guard (Jaunsardze) programs that build patriotism, fitness, leadership, and basic defence skills from age 10 upward.

Emphasis on practical skills over theory: "You cannot teach defence in theory only. You have to do it, again and again."

The program even aims to integrate the significant ethnic Russian minority by teaching critical thinking and Latvian patriotic history. Instructors note that if war comes, "everyone needs to be ready."

Latvia understands a hard truth: a free society survives not through wishful thinking or reliance on distant allies alone, but through a population of capable, mentally tough individuals willing and able to resist.

Australia's Missed Opportunity

Australia once had a stronger tradition. From 1911, we had universal military training schemes involving cadets for boys as young as 12. Later national service schemes (1951–1959 and 1964–1972) built discipline and skills in young men. School cadet units taught leadership, marksmanship, bushcraft, and teamwork.

Instead of doubling down on that foundation — especially after the end of conscription in 1972 — Australia drifted toward passive control. Defence policy became heavily reliant on a small professional force, expensive technology, and the hope that the US alliance would always save the day. Cadet programs survived but were often watered down, underfunded, or treated as optional extracurriculars rather than core nation-building tools.

Meanwhile, broader society shifted toward comfort, compliance, and risk aversion. Young people are increasingly raised in highly regulated environments — think endless rules, participation trophies, trigger warnings, and "helicopter" oversight. The result? A population more like battery hens than strong, self-reliant individuals: caged by bureaucracy, dependent on the state, physically softer, and less prepared for real crises whether military, natural disaster, or social breakdown.

We prioritised "safety" and social engineering over building resilience, discipline, and a martial spirit. National service debates today often focus narrowly on recruitment shortfalls or "equity," missing the deeper civilisational point: nations that want to remain free need citizens who are physically and mentally tough, not passive consumers.

The Cost of the Passive Path

A society of battery hens is easier to manage in peacetime, but brittle when tested. Latvia's approach recognises that deterrence starts with societal will and basic competence. A generation trained in basic weapons handling, navigation, first aid, and discipline is far harder to intimidate or occupy.

Australia faces its own strategic challenges — vast distances, a sparse population, reliance on sea lanes, and rising tensions in the Indo-Pacific. Yet instead of fostering widespread resilience through expanded cadets, youth defence programs, or even voluntary national service with real skills training, we've leaned into centralised control, heavy regulation, and a welfare-oriented mindset.

The contrast is stark: Latvian teenagers learn to shoot and navigate under pressure. Too many Australian teenagers learn to navigate TikTok algorithms and safe spaces.

Time for a Latvian-Style Reckoning

Australia doesn't need to copy Latvia exactly — our geography and threats differ. But we should draw the clear lesson: strong nations cultivate strong individuals.

Reviving and expanding school-based cadet programs with proper military ethos, marksmanship, leadership, and survival skills would be a good start. Serious discussion of national service — not just as a jobs program but as character formation — is overdue. Teaching practical resilience, history with patriotic honesty, and civic duty should be part of education, not treated as controversial.

Latvia isn't preparing for war because it wants one. It's preparing so it might avoid one — or survive if it comes. That requires a population of capable citizens, not compliant consumers.

Australia once understood this. We drifted away. The Russian shadow over the Baltics should remind us: freedom isn't maintained by passive reliance on others or endless regulation. It requires individuals with backbone, skills, and the will to stand up.

We chose the battery hen route. Latvia chose the path of strength. Which society is better positioned for an uncertain future?

https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2026/03/28/latvia-russia-war-guns-students-00848017