“You have two options: you can explain it to me like I’m your grandmother, or like I’m a complete idiot.” I’m sitting across from a model engineer, a man with more educational suffixes than I have letters in my name. He’s a neuroscientist, an expert in chaos theory and human behaviour, and speaks several languages. He has helped build one of the most sophisticated technological capabilities I have ever encountered. And right now, he is utterly unable to tell me how it works. He laughs. Picks option one. Today, I am his grandmother. I am also, quietly, relieved that he does not think I am an idiot (this does not always happen). The situation is not unusual; it has become familiar in my work leading external affairs for defence technology companies. The systems shaping modern conflict are not designed to be easily understood en masse. They are complex by necessity. They operate across domains, integrate a myriad of data sources, and rely on layers of software architecture that even experienced practitioners and CEOs struggle to articulate clearly. But for those of us in public affairs, understanding this “stuff” (ie. being able to explain it to your grandmother) has never been more important. The New Defence-Tech Moment The UK and Europe’s defence technology ecosystem is undergoing an extraordinary transformation. Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the reassessment of security across NATO, and most recently, the war in Iran, capital has flowed into the sector at an incredible pace. Defence technologies now account for roughly 10% of all venture capital investment in Europe, with billions deployed annually and hundreds of new companies entering the market. This is, broadly, a positive development. For years, European defence innovation has been constrained by fragmented procurement, risk-averse investment cultures, and an overreliance on established primes. The influx of capital has injected energy and fresh competition. It has accelerated the development of technologies that are genuinely changing how militaries operate: from autonomous systems and advanced sensing, to AI-enabled decision support and predictive Modelling & Simulation. At the same time, European governments are placing increasing emphasis on sovereign capability: designing, building, and sustaining critical technologies within national or allied frameworks. This is not simply an economic ambition, but a strategic imperative. The war in Ukraine has underscored the importance of resilience, with renewed focus on rapid adaptation in contested environments. But alongside this surge of investment sits a quieter concern: is hype beginning to outrun operational reality? Since 2022, over 230 defence start-ups have been founded in Europe, many focused on drones, AI, and autonomous systems. Venture capital has accelerated rapidly, in some segments growing fivefold, and attracting investors who historically avoided the sector altogether. Yet even within the industry, there is an emerging recognition that not all of this activity will translate into enduring capability. As one European defence-tech CEO put it, with as much clarity as a Hemingway six-word memoir: “there’s definitely a bubble right now.” Such tensions between innovation and inflation, between capability and narrative, are defining the current moment. When Capital Moves Faster Than Capability The fundamental challenge is structural. Venture capital operates on timelines and incentives that are not naturally aligned with defence. Defence capability takes time to build. It requires sustained R&D, iterative testing, integration with existing systems, and, crucially, long-term strategies for adoption by end users. Procurement cycles are long, regulatory environments are complex, and the consequences of failure are measured not just in financial terms, but in operational risk. Venture capital, by contrast, is built on speed. It rewards growth and market capture. Bonus points are handed out for the ability to tell a compelling story about the future. While it is a powerful engine for innovation, it is not designed to assess whether a piece of technology will perform reliably on a battlefield, at scale, and over a long stretch of time. The result is an inevitable mismatch. Companies that are effective at fundraising are not always those best positioned to deliver sustained operational capability. Buzzwords like “AI”, “autonomy”, “digital twin” obscure as much as they reveal. Demonstrations can substitute for deployment and narratives can outpace engineering. Defence has always been susceptible to cycles of optimism and correction. But the scale and speed of the current investment wave means the stakes are higher. Governments are not simply observing this market with a sense of urgency; they are actively shaping it through funding, policy, and endorsement in a way that is unique. This is where ethical public affairs becomes critical. The Risk to Policymaking Ethics and honesty aren’t al...