The sentence seems casual, almost folksy. “Il ne faut pas emmerder les Français” – one must not burden the French any further. It was said by Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu when presenting new aid against rising energy prices as a result of the escalation in the Middle East. Yet precisely in its demonstrative simplicity, this sentence reveals a remarkable political shift in France.
Because Paris is visibly beginning not to prepare the population for a temporary crisis but for a permanent state of exception.
The French government now speaks with a sobriety about geopolitical risks that would have been unusual just a few years ago. Lecornu openly stated that the conflict in the Middle East will “continue in one form or another.” Even under favorable conditions, a certain stabilization of the situation is only expected by autumn. At the same time, the government warns of scenarios so far mostly discussed in security policy think tanks: attacks on oil infrastructures, interruptions of maritime trade routes, potential blockades of the Strait of Hormuz or Bab al-Mandab.
Thus, the political tone in France is fundamentally shifting. The government is no longer trying to rhetorically conceal uncertainty. Instead, it increasingly integrates it into official communication.
The New Language of Permanent Crisis
The true significance of Lecornu’s sentence lies less in its content than in its political undertone.
“Not annoying the French” in this context means more than social consideration. It is the implicit recognition of political vulnerability: the French state knows how quickly economic pressure can escalate into open revolt.
The memory of the Yellow Vest protests of 2018 is central here. Few other events shook the French elite quite so profoundly. The movement was initially triggered by a comparatively limited increase in the fuel tax. But within weeks, it developed into a national wave of protest against loss of purchasing power, social inequality, and the perceived arrogance of Emmanuel Macron’s technocratic leadership.
Since then, a strategic dogma has solidified at the Élysée: energy prices are no longer purely an economic issue. They are a question of internal stability.
That is exactly why Lecornu rejects a general reduction in fuel taxes. Such measures might be popular in the short term but are fiscally barely controllable in the long run. Instead, the government focuses on targeted compensation for particularly exposed groups: commuters, healthcare workers, farmers, taxi companies, or logistics enterprises.
This is highly revealing politically. The French state no longer tries to fully cushion crises. Rather, it tries to limit their societal explosive potential.
France Discovers the Logic of Crisis Economy
Herein lies a deeper shift in French state philosophy.
For decades, the French social model rested on an implicit promise: the state comprehensively protects the population from the harshness of global markets. Whether financial crises, pandemics, or energy price shocks — Paris traditionally responded with massive interventions, price caps, subsidies, or government borrowing.
During the energy crisis following the Russian attack on Ukraine, this logic reached a temporary peak. France limited electricity and gas prices administratively and absorbed billions in costs through the state budget. Public debt continued to rise; it now stands well above 110 percent of GDP.
But the fiscal leeway is shrinking. The combination of high interest rates, weak growth, increasing defense spending, and structural deficits increasingly forces Paris to prioritize. The government can no longer completely neutralize every crisis.
That is why a new form of French crisis policy is now emerging: selective relief instead of universal coverage.
This development is not confined to France. A similar tendency can be observed throughout Europe. States try to administratively manage long-term burdens rather than fully compensate them. But in France this strategy carries particular political volatility because social expectations of the state are traditionally higher there than in many other European countries.
Geopolitical Realism Returns
Remarkable is also the new openness with which French government representatives discuss geopolitical risks.
Only a few years ago, the dominant notion in Europe was that global economic interdependence ultimately stabilizes. Energy was primarily considered a market issue, not a geopolitical vulnerability. At the latest since the Ukraine war, this assumption has collapsed.
Now the Middle East conflict intensifies uncertainty again. France implicitly signals to its population: the era of predictable globalization is over.
Lecornu’s statements therefore fit into a larger strategic pattern. Europe is mentally preparing for a world where supply chains become more fragile, energy remains costly, and geopolitical shocks occur more frequently.
Added to this is a second factor: security policy rearmament. France plans massive investments in defense, arms production, and strategic infrastructure. President Macron has been speaking for years about Europe’s “strategic autonomy.” This stance gains added legitimacy from the current crises.
But rearmament, energy security, and industrial resilience cost money. A lot of money. The political challenge is therefore to make this transformation socially acceptable.
The Psychology of Adaptation
It is precisely here that Lecornu’s sentence unfolds its true function.
The government tries to walk a narrow path: It must prepare the population for harder times without causing alarmism. It must convey seriousness without triggering panic. And it must explain why the state can no longer fully compensate every burden in the future.
This explains the noticeably technocratic tone of government communication. The crisis is not dramatized but managed. The discourse is about targeted aid, burden distribution, resilience, and adaptation.
Therein lies a quiet pedagogical message: citizens should learn to accept uncertainty as the normal state.
This is politically risky. France remains a country with a strong protest culture and deep mistrust of elites. Any perception of social injustice can quickly become explosive. At the same time, the government appears convinced that a return to the old illusion of stability is no longer possible.
The real message is therefore not: “The state protects you from the crisis.”
But: The state tries to keep society manageable through an era of permanent crises.
This is a fundamental difference—and possibly the real political turning point of this moment.
P.T.