Every so often the global economy is reminded that it still runs, quite literally, through a narrow passage of water.

The Strait of Hormuz is one of those places where geography and economics collide with geopolitical forces. When it is open, the world scarcely notices. When it is closed, everyone pays — at the pump, in inflation data, in stock markets and eventually in global stability itself.

Tehran said that the Strait of Hormuz has been blocked since Saturday evening and will not reopen until the United States lifts its naval blockade on the waterway. That happened shortly after Iranian Foreign Minister Seyed Abbas Araghchi said on Friday the strait would remain "completely open" to commercial shipping during the current truce with the US, in line with the announcement of the ceasefire in Lebanon.

The turning point was Washington saying on Friday that the US naval blockade would "remain in full force", noting that the US would not lift it until the country makes a deal with Iran.

This brinkmanship over the opening and closing of the strait is not merely a regional security issue. It is a textbook case of how a regional conflict can metastasize into global economic risk.

For the belligerents in the Middle East crisis, the strait has become leverage. For Washington, in particular, maritime access is both a strategic necessity, though it claims otherwise, and a credibility test, as along with Israel, the US started the conflict that has led to all that has happened.

But here is the larger point: once a critical choke point is turned into a bargaining chip, the costs are borne globally while the leverage remains local. That is an old story in economics — private incentives, public costs. Oil prices have already reacted sharply to every rumor of closure and reopening. Shipping insurers have raised premiums. Tankers hesitate or reroute. Energy-importing economies from Asia to Europe absorb the shock in the form of higher costs.

The world learned this lesson in the 1970s: energy shocks do not stay in the energy sector. They ripple outward into food prices, transport costs, industrial output and consumer sentiment.

In that sense, using the Strait of Hormuz as leverage by either side is a form of coercion directed at the entire world. This is why Beijing's recent diplomatic proposals deserve attention.

China has put forward a four-point proposal on peace and development in the Middle East, alongside a five-point initiative that it proposed with Pakistan emphasizing a ceasefire, de-escalation, humanitarian relief, restoration of maritime access and renewed dialogue. The essential economic logic behind the proposal and initiative is straightforward: global public goods such as secure sea lanes should not be subordinated to the tactical calculations of wartime actors.

Beijing has repeatedly stressed that the strait should remain open and that all parties must avoid escalation. The Strait of Hormuz is too systemically important to be weaponized. But the Middle East crisis has prompted it to be treated as such. In future geopolitical conflicts in other parts of the world, the likelihood of other actors emulating this simple-but-consequential practice has increased significantly.

The immediate actors may believe they are maximizing bargaining power, but they are simultaneously exporting instability to every oil-importing country. The belligerents should realize that using the strait as a coercive tool is profoundly destructive, and serves no party's interest. China's calls for dialogue, a ceasefire and the protection of maritime routes should be heeded. The world economy is fragile enough even without turning one of its most vital arteries into a hostage.

Threatening to close the Strait of Hormuz is not a sign of strength. Keeping it open is not just a naval objective or a diplomatic talking point. It is a basic obligation to a world that is already far too interconnected to pretend that someone else's crisis can remain someone else's problem.