How Trump Can ‘Acquire’ Greenland Without Buying or Seizing It

President Trump’s intervention in Venezuela has somehow sparked renewed interest in the administration’s Greenland ambitions.

Trump’s critics are decrying imperialism and Denmark thinks there is something rotten about the whole idea of the U.S. entrenching itself in the Atlantic colony of the Danes. Meanwhile, our allies are quietly admitting the strategic case for a stronger American presence in Greenland is obvious.

But not enough attention has been paid to the practical question: What’s the best structure for securing American interests on the world’s largest island?

We’re not going to invade Greenland. And annexing or buying Greenland is probably the wrong approach. The United States doesn’t need sovereignty over two million square kilometers of ice and rock. We need durable access: military and space bases, infrastructure, and a clear framework for strategic minerals. Before we get to the better structure, it helps to see why an outright acquisition—either by conquest or purchase—is a suboptimal way to secure our strategic and economic interests in Greenland.

Why Greenland Matters

Greenland sits astride the Arctic approaches that connect the Atlantic and the far North, routes submarines use and militaries plan around. And the U.S. footprint there is not theoretical: Pituffik Space Base (formerly known as the Thule Air Base) anchors missile-warning and space-tracking capabilities that matter precisely because the shortest paths from Eurasia to North America run over the pole.

Then there’s the resource angle. Beneath Greenland’s ice are significant mineral deposits, including rare-earths—inputs that sit inside everything from consumer electronics to advanced defense systems. China’s dominance in rare-earth supply chains has already shown the West what “geopolitical leverage” looks like when one country controls a chokepoint input.

Add in an Arctic that is becoming more navigable, more contested, and more surveilled every year, thanks in part to climate change. The strategic logic is not exotic. The U.S. wants stronger, clearer, longer-duration access than the current arrangement provides.

The question isn’t whether Greenland matters. The question is what mechanism gets America what it needs without creating bigger problems than it solves.

What Would It Cost to Buy Greenland?

When we wrote about buying Greenland in January 2025, we ran a few valuation frameworks and landed around $300 billion as a plausible purchase price. The simplest version valued Greenland like a high-growth strategic asset: take its roughly $2.4 billion “independent” GDP (backing out Denmark’s transfer payments) and apply a big multiple to reflect optionality—strategic position plus future mineral potential.

Other methods gave different numbers. Pricing potentially farmable land at Newfoundland rates pointed to tens of billions rather than hundreds. Historical benchmarks—Alaska and the old post-war chatter about a purchase—gave a sense of what “big territory, small population” deals looked like in earlier eras.

And compared to Washington’s fiscal scale, even $300 billion is not unimaginable. The U.S. now spends roughly $1 trillion a year on net interest. Measured against that, the sticker price isn’t the biggest obstacle.

The Trouble with ‘Buying’ Greenland

Even if you set aside the diplomatic theater—Denmark saying “not for sale,” headlines screaming “colonialism”—the purchase runs into structural walls.

First: consent. Greenland is not a fungible asset Denmark can liquidate. Modern politics makes the point plain: whatever Denmark’s legal sovereignty looks like on paper, Greenland’s people have to consent to any arrangement with legitimacy. A deal that treats Greenland as an object rather than a party is not “bold diplomacy.” It’s fantasy—and it would backfire.

Second: sovereignty transfers are rare for a reason. Selling territory invites nationalist backlash and poisons alliances. Push hard enough and you don’t just annoy Copenhagen. You give adversaries a wedge to drive through NATO. We don’t want to be fighting against Greenlandian nationalist separatists or pushing patriotic Greenlanders into the arms of Russia or China.

Third: purchase would drag America into a constitutional and political morass it doesn’t need. If the United States “owns” Greenland, the pressure to clarify political status begins immediately. Statehood? A territory arrangement? Representation? Two senators for a population smaller than a mid-sized U.S. city? Years of argument, lawsuits, and domestic fights—none of which advance the core strategic objectives. Plus, given Greenland’s politics, statehood would more or less guarantee two more Democrat senators and three more Democrats in the House, not exactly something President Trump wants to include in his legacy.

Fourth: ownership isn’t necessary. The United States doesn’t need to govern Greenlandic domestic or even foreign affairs. It needs long-duration basing and infrastructure rights, a stable legal framework for strategic minerals, and the ability to monitor and secure the Arctic approaches. Those aims are achievable without the baggage of sovereignty.

And there’s another practical point: even in a hypothetical purchase, the U.S. wouldn’t be “buying vacant land.” Greenland has residents, institutions, and self-government. That reality makes the purchase model conceptually clumsy. The better approach is to focus on rights—what you can do, where you can do it, and for how long—rather than a deed.

The Better Starting Point

Here’s the irony: Washington already has a legal foothold. The United States operates in Greenland under a longstanding defense framework with Denmark. The problem is not that America has zero access. The problem is that the current structure isn’t designed for the next century’s Arctic—strategic competition, infrastructure, minerals, and persistent presence.

So, if outright purchase is politically implausible, constitutionally messy, and operationally unnecessary, what’s the alternative?

Tomorrow, we’ll discuss how a century-scale defense-and-development compact—functionally a lease—could give America what it needs with Greenland’s consent, without the sovereignty trap.