Amid concerns Russia is turning its eyes further to the west, Finland has been quietly preparing, investing in a network of hardened infrastructure and ramping up reserves and active duty military forces via national service. So the question is, can Australia learn the Finnish lesson?
Australia and Finland, though separated by half the world and vastly different climates, share a common strategic dilemma: how smaller nations survive and thrive in the shadow of great powers. Both sit on the periphery of turbulent strategic regions: Finland on the fault line between Europe and Russia and Australia on the southern edge of the Indo-Pacific, where the rise of China is reshaping the balance of power.
Each nation’s geography, history and political culture have driven them to adopt distinct but convergent approaches to national defence: strategic self-reliance, deterrence by denial and deep partnerships with trusted allies.
For Finland, the experience of surviving wars against the Soviet Union and decades of Cold War pressure forged a doctrine rooted in total defence and societal resilience. Every citizen has a role in defending the nation; every institution is designed to function in wartime as in peace.
This approach, now reinforced by NATO membership, ensures Finland remains difficult to intimidate and impossible to conquer quickly. The Finnish model emphasises readiness, territorial defence and rapid mobilisation backed by a national will hardened by history and a defence force structured for high-intensity, short-warning conflict on home soil.
Australia’s strategic culture evolved differently. Insulated by vast oceans and long dependent on distant allies, Australia historically relied on forward-deployed great powers: the British Empire, then the United States, for strategic depth.
Yet as American primacy erodes and regional threats intensify, Canberra is rediscovering the virtues of deterrence through self-reliance. The emphasis has shifted towards building a hardened northern base network, long-range strike and resilient supply chains all underpinned by a new appreciation that Australia’s geography, once a shield, could become a constraint without strong domestic capability.
While Finland’s doctrine is local and territorial and Australia’s is maritime and expeditionary, both share the logic of pragmatic realism: the understanding that alliances matter but self-reliance is indispensable. Each recognises that small and middle powers cannot outmuscle great powers but they can make aggression prohibitively costly. In that shared conviction lies a lesson, whether in the icy forests of Karelia or the tropical north of Australia, that survival in a dangerous world depends not on size, but on preparation, unity and resolve.
Beneath the cobbled streets of Helsinki lies another city, one hidden from view, carved deep into the bedrock and built with quiet purpose. Down here, under layers of granite, you’ll find basketball courts, playgrounds and even a swimming pool. But these are no ordinary leisure centres. With the turn of a switch, they can become blast-proof shelters, sealed off from chemical or radiological threats, equipped with filtration systems, medical bays and bunk beds for thousands of civilians.
To outsiders, and Australians in particular, it might seem excessive, even paranoid. To the Finns, it’s common sense.
Finland, after all, lives in the shadow of Russia. Its 1,340-kilometre border with the world’s largest country is not just a line on a map, it’s a fault line between two very different worlds. And history has made that clear.
In 1939, the Soviet Union invaded in what became the Winter War, a brutal conflict that left deep scars in Finnish memory. The Finns fought ferociously, inflicting huge casualties, but in the end were forced to cede territory. Independence was preserved just and the lesson has never been forgotten: survival depends on readiness.
That legacy shapes everything.
When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, the tremors were felt instantly in Helsinki. Within months, Finland abandoned decades of neutrality and joined NATO, formalising a security relationship it had long kept informal. But joining an alliance wasn’t enough.
Across the country, from small towns to city governments, officials dusted off plans that had existed quietly since the Cold War and began to refine them for a new age.
Every building above a certain size in Finland must have a civil defence shelter. Every major city has stockpiles of food, fuel and medical supplies. Around 900,000 Finns, one-fifth of the population, belong to the military reserve.
National service remains mandatory for men, voluntary for women and widely supported by society. It’s not seen as an imposition, but a civic duty, a continuation of that unwritten social contract that says: “We will defend this land ourselves.”
A culture of preparedness
This is perhaps the most striking thing about Finland: preparedness is not treated as fear, but as prudence. The nation’s civil defence network isn’t tucked away in secrecy – it’s part of daily life. Kids swim in pools that double as bunkers; workers park in underground garages designed to withstand artillery fire. The message, subtle but ever-present, is that resilience begins long before conflict arrives.
Officials interviewed by the ABC put it plainly: Finland hopes for peace but plans for war. The lesson is written not in slogans, but in concrete, training drills and national consensus.
The Russian shadow
Finland doesn’t believe an invasion is imminent, but neither does it assume that Moscow’s war appetite ends with Ukraine. Russian troop movements near the Finnish border – combined with cyber intrusions and hybrid provocations – remind Helsinki that the security environment has permanently changed.
The Finns don’t indulge in hysteria; they act methodically. Border fences are being built. Air defences are expanding. Critical infrastructure has redundancy built in – power grids, communications, water all hardwired with a resilience that most Western nations can only envy.
And that’s the real insight: Finland’s security is less about the weapons it fields and more about the mindset it maintains.
Lessons for Australia
While it is clear that Australia is not Finland. Our island geography and distance from great power land borders spare us from many of Helsinki’s anxieties. But the strategic logic of preparedness transcends geography and it offers lessons we would do well to heed.
This is a particularly poignant reminder following recent adventurism by the People’s Republic of China in Australia’s territorial waters and increasing provocation in the South China Sea.
- Preparedness is cultural, not just military: Finland’s resilience begins in its society – from civic education to infrastructure design. In Australia, national resilience tends to be discussed only after bushfires or pandemics. A Finnish-style approach would mean embedding readiness into everyday systems: hospitals with back-up power, community shelters, robust cyber awareness and distributed supply chains that could survive isolation.
- Civil defence matters: Australia has largely abandoned the concept of civil defence since the end of the Cold War. Yet as strategic competition intensifies in the Indo-Pacific and as critical infrastructure becomes a target in hybrid warfare, we may need to revisit it. Finland’s dual-use shelters and stockpiles illustrate how civil resilience underpins military deterrence. A capable armed force is of limited use if the home front collapses under pressure.
- National service doesn’t have to mean militarisation: Finland’s model of conscription is built on shared responsibility – not coercion. It forges cohesion and basic national skills in logistics, first aid, engineering and communication. Australia might consider similar civic or defence service models to strengthen social fabric and emergency capacity, without replicating the militarism of other nations.
- Decentralised self-sufficiency: Finland’s preparedness extends into energy independence, food security and local governance. In contrast, Australia’s supply chains are heavily centralised and dependent on imports. Strategic resilience would mean diversifying manufacturing, strengthening domestic stockpiles and ensuring that local councils and regions can function independently in crisis.
- Deterrence through denial: Finland doesn’t expect NATO to fight its wars for it – it prepares to make any aggression prohibitively costly. For Australia, the same principle applies: the more self-reliant and resilient the nation becomes, the more credible its deterrence. Reliance on distant allies alone risks complacency.
The broader reflection
Finland’s story is not one of fear, but of maturity. It recognises that security in the modern age is not guaranteed by treaties or distance, but by the capacity of a nation to absorb shock and fight on its own terms.
For Australia, watching from half a world away, the tunnels beneath Helsinki are a reminder that national security begins long before a crisis and far beyond the defence budget. It lives in the choices a nation makes about education, infrastructure, industry and civic responsibility.
The Finnish experience teaches that deterrence is not about sabre-rattling; it’s about calm, methodical readiness. A quiet confidence built on the understanding that peace is best protected not by hoping for the best, but by preparing for the worst.
If Australia were to adopt even a fraction of that mindset – embedding resilience into its cities, supply chains and civic culture – it could transform the country from a secure island by geography into a secure nation by design.
Final thoughts
Building Australia’s capacity to act as an independent power, one with the economic weight, diplomatic influence, and military strength of a great power is not a mere aspiration – it is an assertion of sovereignty.
Like Finland, which has long accepted full responsibility for its own defence in a contested region, Australia must now do the same in the Indo-Pacific. This is not about isolationism, but maturity: a recognition that true partnership with allies begins with the ability to stand on one’s own feet.
For too long, Australia has been characterised as caught between Beijing and Washington, dependent on the former for prosperity and the latter for protection. That binary view diminishes us. In an era defined by competition between autocracy and democracy, Australia must chart its own course, one grounded in national interests, not inherited assumptions.
Doing so requires an honest national conversation about who we are, what we value and the costs we are willing to bear to defend it.
This discussion cannot be left to strategists and officials alone. It must include the Australian people, the citizens whose taxes fund the defence budget, whose industries build the tools of national power, and whose sons and daughters may be called upon to defend the nation.
Transparency, trust and collaboration between government, industry and the public are essential to rebuilding confidence in a shared national project.
A strong, diverse and self-reliant economy is the bedrock of sovereignty. It underpins every element of national power, from the capacity to produce advanced technologies and critical materials to the resilience needed to withstand coercion or disruption.
Yet economic strength alone is not enough. Australia must also confront its own strategic ambitions. Are we content to remain a “middle power”, dependent on others, or do we aspire to become a true regional leader, one capable of shaping, rather than merely responding, to global events?
As the historian Arthur Herman observed of the United States, the development of advanced technologies can transform economies and determine the trajectory of nations. The same is true for Australia. Without bold investment in capability, innovation and self-reliance, our influence will diminish and with it, the independence on which our future depends.
Get involved with the discussion and let us know your thoughts on Australia’s future role and position in the Indo-Pacific region and what you would like to see from Australia’s political leaders in terms of partisan and bipartisan agenda setting in the comments section below, or get in touch with
Stephen Kuper
Steve has an extensive career across government, defence industry and advocacy, having previously worked for cabinet ministers at both Federal and State levels.