The grand European “liberation” from Russian gas was painted as some kind of heroic odyssey — a gruelling struggle for energy independence. In reality, it was more like stumbling off a sinking ship you’d been warned about for decades, and then pretending you’d planned the escape all along.
For years, Russia was the lazy bet of the European energy establishment. The easy option. The “cheap” option. Allegedly. Everyone knew the script: Gazprom would keep the pipelines flowing, European managers would keep congratulating themselves for their brilliant pragmatism, and nobody would have to think too hard about the future.
Except the future was clearly marked on the calendar. Fifteen years ago, when I was working for a Central European gas trading company, it was common knowledge in the industry that the two great Soviet-era workhorses — the Urengoy and Yamburg gas fields — were on borrowed time. Urengoy was expected to decline around 2022, Yamburg by 2024. And here’s the thing: gas fields don’t fade out gracefully like aging oil wells. They don’t politely decline over decades. When the pressure drops, they die abruptly — with a bang, or more often, a quiet puff. Eighteen months from the moment the pressure curve bends, and the show’s over.
For over half a century, these fields kept Europe warm and smug. But that era is finished. Cheap gas is gone. Yes, there’s “new” gas in Siberia — but it comes wrapped in the modern price tag of complex field development, long-distance pipelines, and geopolitical headaches. The myth of eternally cheap Siberian gas was always just that: a myth.Ironically, Europe’s managers got their perfect face-saving exit from the Russian gamble courtesy of the invasion of Ukraine. Instead of being forced to confront their own short-sightedness, they could wrap themselves in moral rhetoric and pretend they’d chosen principle over convenience. Personally, I’d have preferred to watch them choke on their bluster.