A recent trio of opinion articles in this newspaper reflects the growing anxiety surrounding Washington’s reported request for Taiwan to shift up to 50 percent of its semiconductor production abroad — a process likely to take 10 years, even under the most serious and coordinated effort. Simon H. Tang (湯先鈍) issued a sharp warning (“US trade threatens silicon shield,” Oct. 4, page 8), calling the move a threat to Taiwan’s “silicon shield,” which he argues deters aggression by making Taiwan indispensable. On the same day, Hsiao Hsi-huei (蕭錫惠) (“Responding to US semiconductor policy shift,” Oct. 4, page 8) focused on the economic implications, describing the strategy as a mercantilist deviation from comparative advantage, although he urged pragmatic diplomacy in response, and. Y. Tony Yang (“Rethinking TSMC’s future path,” Oct. 4, page 8) took a more optimistic view, framing Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC) global expansion not as a loss, but as a strategic evolution — one that positions Taiwan as the brain of a distributed technological empire.
While differing in tone, all three pieces treat TSMC as the cornerstone of Taiwan’s security. That is the illusion we must dispel.
The idea of the “silicon shield” is rooted in reality. Taiwan’s dominance in chip manufacturing has certainly raised the cost of conflict and made the world hesitate. Howerver, this “shield” has been mythologized into something it was never meant to be: a guarantee of Taiwan’s security. As a result, every time TSMC invests abroad, politicians, especially in the opposition, cry betrayal: “Selling TSMC, selling Taiwan.”
We must confront a harder truth: That guarantee never existed. It is a comforting illusion — a convenient assumption, not a strategic fact. If the US defends Taiwan, it would not be for TSMC. It would be to prevent the collapse of the Indo-Pacific order — a geopolitical shift that would strike at the heart of US strategic interests.
It is only when we accept this premise and let go of the shield illusion that we can discuss Taiwan’s future — and TSMC’s role in it — with clarity and seriousness.
The shield theory stumbles on a key point: Indispensability is fungible. Whoever controls TSMC controls the shield, at least in the short term. If Taiwan is free, the world depends on Taiwan. If Beijing were to seize Taiwan, the world might be forced, however reluctantly, to depend on TSMC under Chinese control. Yet that reliance would be fragile and unsustainable.
TSMC is not like rare earths, where one nation truly dominates supply. Semiconductor manufacturing is a global collaboration: The US designs, Japan supplies materials, the Netherlands builds lithography machines, and Taiwan manufactures. If China takes Taiwan, that ecosystem collapses. The West could respond by cutting off access to supporting machines, software, chemicals, and servicing contracts. The seized TSMC would freeze in place.
This is not a political preference — it is a strategic imperative. The most advanced chips power not only iPhones, but satellites, fighter jets, quantum research, and artificial intelligence-driven weapons systems. No democratic government could allow its tools, software, or materials to be used by a Beijing-controlled TSMC to fuel China’s military modernization.
Even if China were to absorb Taiwan without a shot fired, the logic would not change. The West would still be compelled to cut off access to the most advanced tools, software and materials.
Seen from this perspective, it is more accurate to say that Taiwan shields TSMC. If Taiwan falls to China, the world loses TSMC — a crown jewel that cannot be replicated. No other location can match the cost-efficiency, execution speed and deep institutional trust embedded in Taiwan’s unique ecosystem.
Either way, TSMC must be seen for what it is: a remarkable company, a symbol of Taiwan’s ingenuity, and a contributor to its international importance — but not its shield of last resort. TSMC’s investments abroad are not betrayal. They are sound business strategies. By spreading production while keeping innovation anchored in Taiwan, TSMC enhances rather than diminishes its value to the world. It moves from being a single point of failure to a trusted global partner. That is not surrender. That is strength.
The real shield for Taiwan is not silicon. It is strength. The strength of its democracy, where legitimacy flows from the people. The strength of its alliances, built on shared values. The strength of its military deterrence, to increase the cost of invasion. The strength of its people — courageous, principled and engaged with the world. And yes, the strength of its integration into the semiconductor ecosystem, not because it hoards production, but because it leads innovation.
In the end, we must confront what no supply chain can guarantee: that the leaders in Beijing are rational. That they value long-term stability over short-term conquest. That they understand what they could destroy far outweighs what they might gain. And above all, that they place human life first — before pride, power, conquest or any imagined mandate of history.
If reason fails — if obsession overtakes restraint — then no company, no factory and no chip would save us. Only winning the war can.
TSMC is a shield, yes — but not the kind we imagine. It is not a wall that can block invasion. It is a warning light, signaling to the world just how deeply every economy would suffer if it were lost. The real wall must be built elsewhere: in deterrence, in alliances and in the resolve of Taiwanese to remain free.
Let us be proud of what TSMC has achieved — and stop deluding ourselves that it holds some magical power to shield Taiwan from war or guarantee US intervention.
John Cheng is a retired businessman from Hong Kong now
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