Tom Hanks, Zendaya, and Hollywood’s Secret Arms Race: Who’s Cashing In?
Mia Reynolds, 12/1/2025Arms industry revenues are projected to reach $679 billion in 2024, driven by high demand and geopolitical tensions. The U.S. leads the market, while European nations ramp up spending due to the Ukraine war. This article explores the intricate dynamics fueling this unprecedented growth.
Rows upon rows of spreadsheets, the cold glint of missiles resting on assembly lines, and—behind it all—a world running on a kind of nervous energy, never quite able to settle down. For arms manufacturers, the past year’s headlines read less like an annual accounting report and more like something out of a Wall Street thriller. The numbers aren’t just impressive—they’re practically breathless.
Latest data out of Stockholm’s International Peace Research Institute—folks who have seen plenty of worrying trends over the years—puts 2024’s arms industry revenues at a head-spinning $679 billion. In percentage terms, that’s nearly a 6% jump over the year before, enough to make even a staid defense executive choke on their early morning espresso. What’s driving this? High demand, plain and not-so-simple.
Peer a little closer, and the United States dominates the boardroom. It’s not a new phenomenon, but this year, the scale is hard to ignore. Of SIPRI’s top 100 arms makers, 39 are American, together racking up a jaw-dropping $334 billion—nearly half the worldwide sum. The likes of Lockheed Martin and Northrop Grumman aren’t just household names among policymakers; they’ve practically become shorthand for the business of war. Thirty out of those 39 U.S. firms weren’t content to rest on past successes, racking up more revenue even while tangled up in the usual red tape: ballooning budgets, supply chain hiccups, and the ever-frustrating delays on projects like the F-35 fighter jet. “Widespread delays and budget overruns continue to plague development and production,” the SIPRI report notes. One imagines that “plagued” is putting it gently.
Now, Europe—never one to be left out when the stakes are this existential—threw its own gauntlet into the ring. Anxiety over the war in Ukraine, and the West’s perennial unease about Russia, spurred European governments to write some especially large checks. The numbers? The continent’s 26 major producers saw their coffers swell by 13% to $151 billion. One standout among many: the Czech Republic’s Czechoslovak Group, its fortunes supercharged by a state-backed effort to send artillery shells to Ukraine. Their revenue growth? An eye-popping 193%. Whatever textbook describes “meteoric rise” likely needs a revised edition.
Of course, nothing about this industry ever flows smoothly. Europe’s factories may be humming, but cracks in the system grow hard to miss. As manufacturers scramble to ramp up output, they’ve hit age-old potholes—materials shortages, creaky supply networks, and, for some, the challenge of suddenly calling suppliers who used to be regulars from Russia. Airbus and Safran, for example, depended on Russian titanium not so long ago. With that partnership now complicated by sanctions, they’re left navigating a scavenger hunt to keep operations moving. Researcher Jade Guiberteau Ricard put it succinctly: Sourcing materials is shaping up to be an endurance event, not a sprint, particularly as global tensions jostle mineral supply and prices—China’s restrictions adding another layer to the puzzle.
A few time zones east, arms firms in the Middle East managed an upswing of their own. The three big names in Israel alone brought in more than $16 billion, up 16% year-on-year. The context? Fierce conflict in Gaza and no shortage of international scrutiny. Yet, according to SIPRI’s Zubaida Karim, business barely flinched. "Backlash over Israeli actions in Gaza seems to have had little impact on interest in Israeli weapons," Karim observed, as if the march of orders and receipts simply never paused.
Russia’s position, meanwhile, seems marked by contradiction. Sanctions? Check. Skilled worker shortages? Not new. Still, domestic orders more than filled the gaps left by cooling exports, with just two firms capturing an impressive 23% jump in arms sales—to $31.2 billion. War at home, sadly, appears as effective a sales driver as any expo or trade show, though one doubts anyone prefers it be so.
Asia and Oceania spun the other direction. Chinese manufacturers, usually robust, saw revenues dip slightly—something of a rarity these days when nearly every region seems to be ramping up. Perhaps a momentary pause, or the start of a longer recalibration. The future, as always, resists certainty.
Every contract and incremental uptick in revenue is more than just a line on some dusty ledger. Broader undercurrents of war, fear, and shifting alliances feed directly into the machinery—factories scaling up, bureaucrats fretting over delivery times, defense strategists redrawing procurement maps. Even now, as the world lurches further into 2025, those same governments are pursuing expanded, modernized militaries—“a new source of demand,” as Ricard observed, with no sign of the appetite waning.
What really stands out in these numbers, though, is less about who’s making what and more about the mood they record—a sort of global register of unease. That 2024 was a record year for the arms industry isn’t only an economic fact; it’s a living document of the times, a testament to apprehensions boiling just beneath the surface.
Factories keep rolling, procurement offices burn the midnight oil, and another set of numbers quietly nudges its way upward. There’s a sense that in this industry, sleep is in short supply; uncertainty offers little respite. Technology keeps forging ahead, but not without the shadow of those same, unresolved questions.
And so, as 2025 rolls in, the world watches—a little tense, a little weary—waiting to see whether those numbers might finally plateau, or if history plans on repeating itself for yet another fiscal cycle.