There’s a certain point in every crisis when the polite language disappears, and the message becomes blunt. The International Energy Agency has reached that point.
Oil is back above US$100 a barrel. Diesel is tightening. Jet fuel is climbing faster than most airline fares would dare. And the Strait of Hormuz, normally the world’s busiest oil corridor, has slowed to a near crawl.
In short, the system isn’t broken. It’s straining.
And while governments have reached for the usual lever to release more oil, the IEA is now saying, quite plainly, that won’t be enough.
The world’s busiest choke point choked
To understand the scale, start with geography.
The Strait of Hormuz is not a wide, forgiving stretch of water. It is narrow, strategic, and utterly indispensable. Roughly 20 million barrels of oil pass through it every day, about 20 per cent of global consumption.
Or at least, they used to.
The Middle East conflict has reduced that flow to what one might generously call “intermittent”. Markets, never fond of uncertainty, have reacted accordingly. Prices have surged, and refined fuels, diesel, jet fuel, and LPG have risen even more.
For the travel sector, that translates quickly. Airlines don’t hedge forever. Freight doesn’t move on goodwill. And travellers, as history reminds us, eventually feel it in the fare.
A record release and still not enough
On 11 March, IEA member countries agreed to release 400 million barrels from emergency reserves, the largest coordinated stock draw the agency has ever attempted.
It’s a big number. It sounds reassuring. It buys time.
But it doesn’t fix the problem.
Fatih Birol, the IEA’s Executive Director, put it with unusual directness:
“The war in the Middle East is creating a major energy crisis… In the absence of a swift resolution, the impacts on energy markets and economies are set to become more and more severe.”
Translation, in less diplomatic terms: don’t expect this to settle quickly.
The uncomfortable truth: use less
Here’s where the IEA departs from the usual playbook.
Instead of focusing solely on supply, dig more, ship more, and release more, the agency has turned to demand. In other words, consumption.
Not a popular word. Not a glamorous solution. But an effective one.
The report outlines ten immediate measures. None are particularly revolutionary. Most have been used before. That, arguably, is the point they work.
Roads: where the real savings sit
Nearly half of global oil demand comes from road transport. That’s where the quickest wins are found.
Working from home is back on the table, not as a cultural debate, but as an economic one. Fewer commutes mean less fuel burned. Simple.
Then there’s speed. Drop highway limits by 10 km/h and fuel use falls across cars, vans and trucks. It’s not headline-grabbing policy, but it’s effective quietly, reliably effective.
Public transport also makes its predictable return to centre stage. Trains and buses may not inspire much romance, but in a fuel crisis, they start to look rather elegant.
Add in car-sharing, better driving habits, and more efficient freight operations, and the cumulative impact becomes meaningful.
Nothing radical. Just disciplined.
Aviation: the awkward conversation
For aviation, the message is less comfortable.
Where alternatives exist, the IEA says, avoid flying.
It’s the sort of advice that lands differently depending on where you sit. For travellers, it’s a mild inconvenience. For airlines still rebuilding margins, it’s a more delicate proposition.
Business travel, in particular, comes under scrutiny. Do you really need to fly for that meeting? Or will a screen suffice?
The industry has heard this before, of course, during the pandemic, during cost-cutting cycles. But this time, the driver isn’t demanding a collapse. It’s fuel scarcity.
And that’s a different kind of pressure.
LPG: the quiet squeeze at home
Away from airports and highways, the pressure shows up in kitchens.
LPG, used widely for cooking, is under strain. The IEA’s recommendation is straightforward: prioritise households.
That means shifting LPG away from transport uses where alternatives exist, and ensuring supply reaches those who rely on it daily.
At the same time, there’s a push towards electric cooking and other modern solutions where infrastructure allows. It’s a sensible shift, though not one that can happen overnight everywhere.
Get it wrong, and households revert to older, more polluting fuels. Get it right, and you ease both cost and health pressures.
Industry: small changes, big effect
Industry doesn’t escape scrutiny either.
In sectors where LPG is used as a feedstock, switching to alternatives like naphtha can free up supply. It’s not dramatic, but it’s impactful.
Likewise, short-term efficiency measures, such as maintenance, optimisation, and smarter operations, can trim oil use without denting output.
It’s the sort of work that rarely attracts headlines, but often carries the most weight.
Governments: tread carefully
For governments, the temptation is always the same: subsidise broadly and worry about the bill later.
The IEA urges restraint.
Targeted support, it argues, is both more effective and more sustainable. Help those who need it most. Avoid distorting the market. And, importantly, lead by example.
Public-sector measures reduced travel; efficiency mandates send signals that matter.
So, what happens next?
Everything, ultimately, hinges on the Strait of Hormuz reopening properly. Until then, the system will remain tight.
Demand-side measures won’t replace lost supply. But they will soften the blow, reduce costs, ease pressure, and buy time.
And in a crisis like this, time is currency.
The takeaway
There’s nothing particularly novel in the IEA’s advice. No grand innovation. No silver bullet.
Just a return to something older, and arguably wiser: use what you have more carefully.
For an industry built on the movement of people, goods, and ideas, that’s not an easy adjustment.
But then, neither is US$100 oil.
by Jason Smith – (c) 2026.
Read Time: 6 minutes.
About the Writer.
Jason Smith was educated in terminals, taxis and hotel corridors, the sort of schooling no classroom could hope to provide. Half American, half Asian, he grew up inside the quiet machinery of tourism, watching his family send strangers into the world long before he travelled himself.
Bangkok came first, then the Asian Institute of Hospitality & Management, followed by a career stitched together across Singapore, Malaysia and Vietnam. Each city left a mark. Thailand eventually claimed him, along with a corner office, as Director of Sales for one of the country’s leading hotel groups.
Then the world paused. Borders closed, skies emptied, and Jason returned to America carrying time, memory and a lifetime of stories.
Now at Global Travel Media, he writes about the human side of travel check-ins, departures, and everything in between with warmth, clarity, and an instinct for connection.
