For a deadly high-stakes game of nuclear submarine hide-and-seek you can turn to a Tom Clancy thriller. Or a newspaper. But not, alas, Canada’s Department of National Defence.

The Hunt for Red October has perhaps vanished over the cultural horizon, the 1990 movie and the 1984 novel praised by that amusing Cold War relic Ronald Reagan. But the chilling newspaper story was in Saturday’s Daily Telegraph.

It started “Britain and America fear Vladimir Putin is prepared to cause financial chaos by attacking undersea cables between the countries and are going to extraordinary lengths to track Russian submarines.” Apparently Putin has rebuilt the old Soviet blue-water navy that rotted at the wharf with a particular emphasis on submarines now busier in the North Atlantic than in a quarter century.

What are they doing there? The U.S. and U.K. are expending enormous, impressive high-tech efforts to discover the details, from satellites to seabed listening devices to modern versions of the U.S.S. Dallas following their Russian counterparts. But the big picture is the Russians are developing an impressive capacity to disrupt vital communications as well as, you know, launch a sneak nuclear attack.

Striking at the elaborate cable network between Europe and North America might seem barely more credible than a nuclear first strike. Either way, even absent effective military retaliation, Russia’s economy would collapse without energy sales to a crippled G7. But tyrants are reckless people, and if Putin and those around him saw the world as we do, they would not prop up Bashar al-Assad, assassinate critics and defectors or maintain relentless hostility to the West.

Besides, in geopolitics as in chess, the threat is often stronger than the execution. The goal here is constant blackmail, generally subtle but overt in a crisis. The Russians could hurt us badly at will, and they’d know it, and know we knew it, and you don’t want that with a tyrant. (For a sobering scenario about a cunning non-nuclear Kremlin miscalculation in the North Atlantic, try Tom Clancy’s Red Storm Rising, which Reagan recommended to Margaret Thatcher.)

So what are we doing about the threat? If by “we” you mean the United States, the answer is maintaining an enormous military establishment full of serious people that just re-established its 2nd Fleet (North Atlantic). If by “we” you mean Britain, it’s maintaining a tiny military establishment full of serious people, unfortunately with more admirals than fighting ships because most British politicians are not serious people.

The U.K. currently has just 10 submarines, four “nuclear” in the sense of carrying nuclear missiles and all nuclear-powered. But three of the attack subs date from the Cold War and a navy with three modern submarines cannot fight a prolonged battle with, um, losses. (Britain also has a spanking new aircraft carrier without planes, another under construction, two amphibious warfare vessels, six destroyers and 13 frigates plus various patrol craft.) Whereas the U.S. has 32 Los Angeles class attack submarines alone (like the real, retired U.S.S. Dallas), plus 19 newer ones with more on the way.

Which brings me to Canada. Or doesn’t. Our contribution is … um … yes, well, you see … look, we’re really happy that sexual assault reports by members of the Canadian Forces doubled to one a week because “It’s a positive indication that people feel free to come forward.” Which would be good, I suppose, in a military with real submarines, not obsolete British diesel wrecks. Or an aircraft carrier, especially with planes. Or frigates built after Chrétien became prime minister (OK, three were, barely). Or a supply ship. But as things stand, it’s a curious priority.

Canadian military procurement is inefficient even by government standards. But the main problem is we don’t spend serious sums because we aren’t serious. We keep promising NATO two per cent of GDP on defence, which isn’t enough. But we lie. It slipped below one per cent under Stephen Harper, though we did refight the war of 1812 with splendid results. And there’s no money to upgrade crucial, fading North Warning System radar installations.

Apparently George Orwell never said “people sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” Which constitutes missing an opportunity because, as I recently observed about natural disasters and critical infrastructure, our way of life is fragile in ways to which we seem wilfully blind.

Prosperity was meant to bring time for study and reflection. Instead we’re casually neglecting those things that preoccupied humanity throughout history, from having enough to eat instead of too much, to keeping the family intact, to truth, honour and hard work. Instead we snicker at self-destructing modern art and paint over poems by Rudyard Kipling, who warned in “Tommy” against “making mock of uniforms that guard you while you sleep.”

They still do, and must. But not nearly enough are ours.