The fact is that we cannot drill our way to independence. We

Hear the words of Jay Inslee, spoken not only as a warning, but as a vision for the generations to come: “The fact is that we cannot drill our way to independence. We cannot drill our way to freedom, and we cannot drill our way to create jobs in this country.” His words are a cry from the heart of a world at a crossroads—between the past that clings to the oil beneath its feet, and the future that reaches toward the sun and the wind. His message is not of despair, but of awakening. He calls upon us to look beyond the ground we have plundered and to find new strength in the renewal of the earth and the ingenuity of humankind.

In ancient times, nations rose and fell by their mastery of resources—by how wisely they used the gifts of the land. But wisdom was always measured by foresight. The civilizations that looked only to the present, draining their wells and felling their forests without restraint, perished when their abundance turned to dust. So it is now, when Inslee speaks of drilling, not merely as an act of oil extraction, but as a symbol of short-sightedness. To drill for salvation is to look downward when the answer lies above and within—to mistake exhaustion for progress, and dependence for power.

Inslee’s words find their roots in the struggles of the modern age, where nations have long tied their fate to the oil barrel, believing it the path to independence and prosperity. Yet, the deeper they drilled, the more they became entangled in the very dependence they sought to escape—on foreign oil, on unstable markets, on the slow decay of the planet itself. He declares that true freedom cannot come from beneath the earth, but from the human spirit’s ability to create, to innovate, and to live in harmony with the world that sustains it.

Consider the example of Denmark, a small nation that once relied heavily on imported fossil fuels. After the oil crisis of the 1970s, its leaders chose a new path. They turned their gaze from the ground to the sky, investing in the power of wind, in innovation, and in community-driven energy. Decades later, Denmark stands as a beacon of sustainability, its people freer and its economy stronger—not because they drilled deeper, but because they dreamed higher. Their story is the living proof of Inslee’s prophecy: that true independence comes not from extraction, but from transformation.

In his warning, Inslee also touches upon the deeper meaning of jobs and human purpose. To build an economy on finite resources is to build a house upon sand. The industries that rely on depletion inevitably fade, leaving communities hollowed and landscapes scarred. But to build upon renewal—upon clean energy, innovation, education—is to create work that does not consume, but sustains. The ancients knew this truth in their own way: a farmer who rotates his crops preserves his soil; a people who plant trees reap shade for their descendants. So too must our labor nourish the earth that feeds it.

There is power in his refrain—we cannot drill our way to freedom. It is both lament and commandment. For every age must confront the illusions that comfort it. In our age, it is the illusion that prosperity can be endlessly dug from the ground. But the wise know that freedom is not found in taking from the earth, but in learning to live in harmony with it. To continue drilling when the wells of wisdom run dry is to march toward ruin with torches lit by greed. To change course is difficult, yes—but every great civilization that endured did so by listening when the earth itself began to whisper, “enough.”

So let the lesson be clear: true independence is not measured in oil reserves, but in the resilience of a people’s spirit. True freedom is not the power to consume without end, but the courage to create anew. Let each of us, in our homes and in our hearts, choose the path of renewal—conserving energy, supporting innovation, and demanding leaders who see beyond the horizon of profit. The time has come, as it has in every great turning of history, to rise from the dust of habit and lift our eyes to the light of what might be.

Thus, take Jay Inslee’s words as both warning and invitation. The wells of the earth will one day run dry, but the wells of human imagination are endless. If we would secure our freedom, we must cease drilling for it in the soil of the past, and begin cultivating it in the fields of the future. For the strength of a nation lies not beneath its ground, but within its people—those who dare to build, to change, and to dream of a cleaner, freer world.