Biotech’s NATO moment: The cock crowed, but will the sun rise?

In June 2025, NATO quietly co‑led a US $35 million Series A funding round for Portal Biotech, a UK startup developing portable, AI‑enabled biological sensors capable of single-molecule protein sequencing in the field. It was NATO’s first formally disclosed biotech investment—proof that microbes, not missiles, are now firmly on the defence agenda (The Defense Post). There was no ceremony with band and bunting—just a tranche of bytes wired to Brussels. Yet the implications are profound. Biotech, long scorned outside drugstores and university labs, has secured a NATO handshake. As the American pundits like to say, that’s a signal coup in strategic messaging.

But before we toast biotech’s ascension to the grand stage, let’s apply some iron‑ringed scrutiny. This might be NATO’s moment for biotech—but whether it becomes Europe’s moment is another question entirely.

The defence money storm—and biotech’s ride

Europe is witnessing a tsunami of defence spending. At the June 2025 Hague summit, NATO members agreed to hike defence and security expenditure to 5% of GDP by 2035, a sharp pivot from the 2–3% band of recent years; quarterly reviews begin in 2029. Germany, long allergic to bold fiscal manoeuvres, now features in fiscal overdrive: Chancellor Merz’s government green‑lit amendments to allow €400 billion more for military and infrastructure investment—something unheard of since the Cold War. France is edging up too, and the Baltics have raced to 4–5 % GDP for security. Portugal, cautious, still eyes 2 % this year, with structural fiscal discipline intact . The vocals are all in harmony.

Yet defence spending near‐doubling is not the same as building weapons. Economic thinking tells us that defence multipliers—additional value added per euro spent—are low, frequently below one, unless money is channeled into domestic manufacturing, R&D, smart procurement and dual‐use industries. This isn’t fanciful Keynesianism. It’s bare reality: fuel‑efficient tanks can devour euros with minimal knock‑on growth.

Hence the pivot to “deep tech” and dual‑use systems—drones, cyber, quantum… and biotech. VCs are taking notice. Record European investment into defence tech—US $5.2 billion in 2024, up 24% from 2023—has overtaken AI in Europe, with Germany alone taking nearly $1 billion.

Portal Biotech’s sequencing gizmo is sexy precisely because it can serve both battlefield and bench. It detects engineered pathogens in hours, not days, giving militaries a clear counter‑CBRN edge; but it also supports pandemic surveillance, drug discovery and environmental monitoring (water testing, anyone?)—a textbook dual‑use darling (Nato Innovation Fund).

All this has serious spin‑off potential. Public panic, political pressure and strategic misadventures (even from AI‑accelerated bioweapon design) are pushing NATO and European capitals to realise that biotech isn’t optional—they need it. NATO’s 2024 “Biotechnology & Human Enhancement” strategy doesn’t mince words: biosensors, bio‑manufactured materials, exoskeleton‑linked soldier rehab—they want the whole kitchen sink NATO. Clinical-grade wounds patch up, while synthetic spider silk might lighten a Marine’s pack—hey, innovation counts.

But Europe’s biotech theatre is poorly lit

For all its intellectual capital—Germany’s BioNTech, France’s researchers, UK’s clusters—Europe historically underperforms in translating science into scalable products. Drug pricing remains rigid: €0.20 paracetamol pack in Spain, generic pressure in Germany, stiff regulatory bargaining across the board. For deep tech startups, margins are razor‑thin. Pharma CEOs like AstraZeneca’s Pascal Soriot have warned that Europe is losing “health sovereignty” to US players who spend bigger and price smarter (The Times).

Biotech in Europe has become a tale of talented ideas stuck in incubators—unlike the West Coast, which spins lab‑to‑IPO‑to‑factory models with ruthless efficiency. The European Defence Fund dishes out around €8 billion for the 2021–27 period—sizable, but dwarfed by global R&D needs and inconsistent across states True transformation would need policy agility, cohesive regulation, streamlined procurement and risk‑tolerant VC infusion. Yet Europe remains risk-averse, both politically and fiscally.

Portal Biotech thus stands out as an anomaly—something the NATO Innovation Fund believed strongly enough to co‑lead a round alongside Earlybird and others. The signal is positive, but this is a lone wolf, not a pack. NATO’s DIANA network and Innovation Fund are plugging gaps: accelerators, hubs, grants, speed‑boats—yet they’re mainly —”pilot” in scale so far (Nato Innovation Fund).

Procurement architecture: bureaucratic hairpins

Militaries are labyrinths by design—hierarchies, credentials, budgets, oversight. Introducing a microfluidics biotech sensor into a tank convoy isn’t plug‑and‑play. Prototyping pipelines are long, paperwork is Byzantine, and general staff tend to view biotech engineers with bemusement: “You want to sequence what, in a Humvee?”

NATO and the EU know this. NATO Innovation Fund’s Kelly Chen singled out procurement reform as vital to attract private capital. Readiness 2030—the EU’s €800 billion plan—pledges to loosen fiscal constraints, pool loans, repurpose cohesion cash and unshackle the European Investment Bank—but there is lip vs tooth friction. In Portugal, raising from 1.6% to 2% GDP required delicate budgetary dance, not just diplomatic statements .

The EU claims it will use up to €150 billion in loans and €650 billion in fiscal liberalisation to support defence and dual-use industries—provided governments follow through. Yet, when the bill comes due, Brussels budgets strain under pension promises, farm lobbies and Green demands—something Berlin and Paris will remember.

So Europe is left with a paradox: more cash is being pledged than ever, but taxpayers still view biotech tools with suspicion—especially if they cost drastically more than aspirin. The defence cloud may hover, but biotech buyers still shop at the pharmacy for singe cent price tags.

Culture clash: cheap pills vs strategic steel

This disparity isn’t trivial. Europeans pay less for generics and place a morbid pride in low‑cost medication. That cultural reflex is simple: why spend €5 on a biotech pill when €0.20 paracetamol does the trick? It explains why Europe’s drug‑development leaps often flounder—they’re pinned by reimbursement boards perfected in penny-pinching.

Apply that worldview to defence biotech. Portal’s protein sequencer may cost the price of a used car , but governments will ask: “We pay €0.20 per pill—how is this profitable?” It sounds absurd, but it’s historically accurate. They’ll also demand order-of-magnitude proof: “Will this save lives, defeat biothreats, and create domestic IP?” The cost‑benefit bar is high.

Military labs appreciate strategic asymmetry, but ministries of health and treasury evaluate with Excel sheets and IRR (internal rate of return) constraints. Defence vs domestic welfare is politically raw: voters grumble when biotech rolls roll-outs are Ronald‑Reagan‑style expensive luxuries.

The upside: if biotech can promise double dividends

But that’s where the crossover potential is irresistible. Portal’s sensors are not just for war—they highlight utility in pandemic early detection and water monitoring. This shared benefit could tip the scales politically. Imagine rural clinics using NATO‑grade biotech hardware, quietly funded through cohesion money repurposed for “resilience”.

Enter prototypes like Fabentech in Lyon—EU‑supported, developing polyclonal antibodies useful both in biothreat response and pandemic therapy; backed with €20 million from HERA . That’s the narrative companies need: defence credibility and civilian value baked in.

Though still early, this suggests Europe’s VC scene is slowly token its militarisation stance. They want products that survive both budget siloes.

Humour moment: biotech versus procurement

Picture this: A biotech CEO in Brussels stands before a cluster of EU bureaucrats. He pitches portable protein sequencer. On the table is also a €0.20 pack of paracetamol. The bureaucrats blink, doodle on calendars, calculate decades. Minutes pass. The CEO draws a diagram linking biopsies to platoon survival to GDP growth. The silence deepens—then one cautions: “But, €0.20?” Cue flatulence sound. The CEO supposes they mean ‘twenty cents more than a pack of ratsbane’? No, he clarifies, twenty cents per pill. They pause, reevaluate. Astride the table, the penny finally drops.

That anecdote illustrates Europe’s central problem: without narrative, strategic biotech is just expensive labware—beautiful, novel, but politically fragile.

The final act: can Europe fund biotech war‑and‑peace champions?

Portal Biotech represents a nascent template: NATO capital, EU strategic interest, VC interest, dual‑use viability. But this is a lone prominently lit stage. Scaling it requires hitting four technical sweet spots:

1. Procurement retooling—quick, lightweight, cross‑ministerial pipelines that treat biotech kits like bullets.
2. Funding architecture—blended public‑private layering: cohesion funds, EIB debt, NIF equity, coupled with VC stack.
3. Narrative alchemy—spin the story that defence biotech is not discretionary; it’s national health, industrial resilience, and geopolitical insurance.
4. Market structure—promoting strategic champions with capacity to scale EU‑wide manufacturing, not just prototype.

If Europe pulls this off, there’s a chance for biotech to transcend its NATO cameo and join the mainstream of defence‑industrial culture. But execute poorly, and it will look like an overpriced luxury: innovator’s fantasy, bureaucrat’s expense line, taxpayer’s headache.

Final verdict: bright spark—but flammable

To answer the question: yes, biotech has had its NATO moment—if a moment driven by virus paranoia and strategic fear is valid. But for it to become Europe’s moment, a cultural, bureaucratic, political shift must happen. Denmark’s air force may clamber aboard; Paracetamol‑price tyranny needs loosening; NGOs must applaud biotech for health and protection; and public financing needs to be visionary rather than blinkered.

Otherwise, biotech will remain akin to a Ferrari kept in a garage—temptingly shiny, rarely driven. But if Europe can treat biotech as both catalyst and shield, then the next generation of defence might carry a blue‑and‑white EU label—and the paracetamol price jokes will transform into punchlines of progress.

In summation: the lab lights have just flickered green. But unless Europe reforms its procurement, investing and mental paradigms, biotech will remain that one brilliant startup admired from afar. And that, dear reader, is how NATO gave biotech a moment in the sun—but Europe must decide whether to let it shine.