As I write this on Valentine’s Day, 105 Russian army battalions backed by over 500 tactical aircraft and 40 warships are poised for a blitzkrieg-style invasion of Ukraine. I don’t think it’s just a camping jamboree for 150,000 soldiers in the middle of winter. Watching a news clip online, I’m struck by low-altitude drone footage of Russian T90 main battle tanks churning across a frozen field, followed by a dense black cloud of exhaust smoke.

The inky veil appeared excessive, even for unregulated combat vehicles. The big multifuel V12 turbodiesels in those T90s appeared to be running extremely rich, I thought. And while that might help expose them as targets on the battlefield, their unbounded particulate and NOx emissions are no concern to authoritarian-regime defense planners. Neither are the planners moved by the environmental media, who prefer to direct their scolding at U.S. and Western equipment. A recent piece in Earth.org called American military pollution “a significant contributor to climate change.” The article said if the U.S. military “were a nation state, it would be the 47th largest emitter in the world.”

Hmm. To the crews inside trucks, tanks, ships and planes, the most vital engineering metrics for staying alive are “payload, performance and protection,” as Oshkosh Defense states on its website. I wouldn’t bet that those serving in front-line units would trade package space allotted for fuel, ammo, sensors, and armor for complex exhaust aftertreatment worthy of a “Certified Clean Idle” sticker.

In broader scope, however, the drama on the Russia-Ukraine border and its potential global implications shows how geopolitics pose at least as much of a challenge to a clean, safe environmental future as does a changing climate. As tensions peaked over Ukraine, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) released a report projecting that sea levels around the U.S. will rise by up to one foot over the next 30 years due to a warming climate. Which danger poses greater existential threat over the long term?  In my view, it’s the geopolitics. Governments that are pushing for an EVs-only mobility future by 2030 should rethink options.

Consider that major conflict in Europe, likely to include crippling cyberattacks, would cause cascading economic disruption, experts say. That’s on top of an already troubled outlook that has oil prices nudging $100/bbl as of mid-February. Germany’s ill-advised decision to abandon nuclear power generation leaves citizens vulnerable and raises questions about how quickly a comprehensive electric-vehicle charging grid can be created. The not-yet-complete NordStream2 gas pipeline is not a reliable alternative, considering who controls the gas source.

Automotive leaders and investors are closely watching the Ukraine situation and its threat to democratic principles and to their global enterprises. So is China, which currently holds all the cards regarding lithium supply. Some analysts believe that failure to divert a Ukraine invasion may embolden Beijing’s communist leadership to realize its long-held ambition to conquest Taiwan.

The resulting conflict would be far more likely to pull the U.S. into a major war than an invasion of Ukraine. Aside from catastrophic loss of life, there would be strategic implications for the OEMs that have billions invested in China production, sales, and battery deals, not to mention the future of Taiwan’s industry-leading semiconductor companies. I wish it wasn’t the case, and hope that by the time you read this the crisis has de-escalated. But climate change is only half the struggle.