This year’s Shangri-La Dialogue made one thing clear: we are living in a more dangerous decade. From cyberattacks to grey-zone coercion, climate shocks to supply chain sabotage, the global security landscape is more complex and interconnected than ever. In response, countries across the region are converging on a shared conclusion: resilience—national and collective—is no longer a luxury, but a strategic necessity.

The forum in Singapore on 30 May and 1 June, a platform for defence ministers and officials to discuss the security landscape, showcased sharp differences on alignment, strategy and great power competition. But there was agreement on one point: countries need to be better prepared, both at home and with others. While many threats remain the purview of defence officials, they are increasingly seen as whole of society-challenges.

Australian Defence Minister Richard Marles captured this when he described the Indo-Pacific as ‘the world’s most consequential strategic arena,’ warning that ‘we cannot leave [regional stability] to the United States alone.’ He highlighted Australia’s ‘largest peacetime increase in defence spending’ since World War II but stressed that resilience must also encompass cyber, supply chains, critical infrastructure and public trust.

In short: if the world is becoming more dangerous, we must become more prepared.

That complexity was echoed throughout the dialogue, though leaders varied on how to respond. For some, like US Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, resilience begins with hard power. Others, including Southeast Asian leaders, view preparedness as building redundancy in economic systems, digital defences and societal trust. Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, for instance, argued for ‘cooperation, collective resilience, and the steady exercise of [countries’] own agency.’

These approaches aren’t mutually exclusive, but they reflect differing strategic priorities.

National preparedness, once the domain of civil-defence planners, is rapidly becoming central to strategic discussions. Cyber resilience, disinformation management, infrastructure redundancy, food security and population protection are now core defence issues.

That’s why national preparedness needs a whole-of-government, whole-of-society mandate. This includes local disaster coordination plans that integrate cyberattacks with physical response. It means safeguarding hospitals from ransomware and undersea cables from sabotage. And it requires involving the private sector in building secure, interoperable systems that cannot be easily exploited.

If threats are interconnected, responses must be too—not just across societies, but among international partners. This year’s Shangri-La Dialogue saw a strong push for ‘coalitions of action,’ in the words of French President Emmanuel Macron. His call was not about forming blocs but about enabling countries to act together—across the Indo-Pacific and beyond—in response to shared risks.

For Macron, Europe and Asia can and should work jointly to uphold strategic autonomy—not as a code for neutrality, but as a proactive effort to resist coercion and shore up common rules.

That idea resonated in the forum.

Marles and Hegseth echoed this call for cooperation. Hegseth urged allies to step up spending not only in defence budgets but in making defence industry resilient. He announced the Partnership for Indo-Pacific Industrial Resilience (PIPIR), which will localise key supply chains—starting with repair hubs for Boeing P-8 Poseidon maritime aircraft in Australia and expanding into logistics systems and making secure drone components.

These may seem like niche initiatives, but they represent the foundation blocks of a more shock-proof regional system—one where capability, deterrence and sustainment are distributed across trusted partners.

Yet lingering questions remain about Washington’s commitment to Asia. As commentators noted, the recent redeployment of Patriot batteries and naval assets from the Indo-Pacific to the Middle East has fuelled concerns that the US pivot to Asia, announced by president Barack Obama in 2011, may again fall short.

Hegseth acknowledged these anxieties but insisted that US engagement was deepening, not retreating. He pointed to expanded exercises with the Philippines, new logistics arrangements through PIPIR, and a broader commitment to treating allies not as dependents, but as ‘force multipliers for peace.’ Whether this reassures regional partners remains to be seen. Similarly, there are uncertainties whether France and other European countries have enough resources to support countries in the Indo-Pacific.

Regardless, there is a deep recognition of the importance of international cooperation to address common threats and rebuilt trust in a multilateral system that is increasingly undermined by rule breakers.

The takeaway from Shangri-La 2025 is not that countries agree on everything. It is that they agree on enough: that resilience must be built—at home and together. That includes national preparedness against non-traditional threats, infrastructure that can withstand both cyberattack and natural disaster, and cooperative frameworks that turn regional proximity into strategic advantage.

For Australia and its Southeast Asian partners, resilience must be built on readiness and security through shared purpose. The goal is not to militarise every challenge, but to recognise that peace itself now demands investment—not just in weapons, but in capacity, adaptability, and social licence with populations.

In a more complex world, the nations that thrive will be those that prepare—not only to deter and defend, but to absorb, adapt and endure.