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Dr Robbin Laird, Maritime Autonomous Systems and the Operational Force: How to Accelerate the Effort? 3 Oct 2023 Link to article (Defense.info) Recently, I had a chance to continue my discussions with CDRE Darron Kavanagh who is Director General Warfare Innovation, Royal Australian Navy Headquarters, concerning maritime autonomous systems. Kavanagh has been one of the most articulate leaders of the development and introduction of maritime autonomous systems in Australia. It is well recognized that autonomous systems are critical to provide the mass necessary for the kind of multi-domain operations which the ADF requires. For example, as Vice Air-Marshal retired Zed Roberton noted at the 27 September Williams Foundation seminar: Going forward, Roberton argued that “we will see a massive focus on things like uncrewed aerial vehicles, uncrewed sea vehicles or land vehicles, the ability to have pre-positioned missile systems and of course, synchronized with cyber and in space effects.” But how to get the effort started operationally? We need to move from science projects and exercises to regular use by the combat forces to realize the opportunities inherent in maritime autonomous systems. But how to do so? Kavanagh started our conversation by underscoring that it is important to understand what these systems are and what they represent. They are not traditional platforms that you are focused on integrating with the force. He argued: “They don’t replace platforms; they complement the integrated force. They are complimentary to that force in that they interface rather than being fully integrated with the current force elements.” With the introduction of new crewed platforms, one must focus on backward engineering legacy systems to work with the new ones. That takes time and has high costs. This is understandable because warriors’ lives are at risk. This is not the model by which to understand maritime autonomous systems, and certainly not the way to understand how you get them into the hands of warfighters for operations. They are not crewed, and your concern is with efficacy, not a primary emphasis on survivability. Maritime autonomous systems interface with and complement the existing force to enhance their lethality. They extend the ISR and C2 range of the force and add to the non-lethal and lethal weapons available to the combat force. Maritime autonomous systems add to the survivability of the force. As CDRE Kavanagh noted: “We have a finite number of crewed exquisite platforms. By leveraging autonomous systems these platforms can extend their defensive perimeter and provide various tools to complicate the adversaries attack profile on those crewed systems.” For example, in effect, USVs can play the role of the picket ships in World War II, thereby enhancing the survivability of the destroyer and carrier fleet. Or to use a Fifth Fleet example, USVs operating with destroyers can operate as a buffer between these key assets and Iranian patrol boats. The USVs function as the police guard dogs and if the Iranians were to attack them, the destroyer’s Rules of Engagement then allows it to destroy the Iranian patrol vessel. And because of how maritime autonomous systems are developed and built, you can shape the kind of affordable mass which we discussed in the multi-domain strike seminar held by the Williams Foundation on 27 September 2023. As CDRE Kavanagh underscored: “When you start leveraging maritime autonomous systems that are low cost, you can create affordable mass, and you’re setting up a system that allows for resilience. You can manufacture them at mass. Not only can I build them in peacetime but we can keep developing them and delivering them quite quickly during hostilities.” And by focusing on complementarity rather than integration, there can be a much wider search within the commercial sector to adopt the rapid innovations in the commercial sector occurring in terms of autonomous systems. CDRE Kavanagh specifically mentioned the Australian mining sector as one where rapid progress is being made on autonomous systems. If you are not using unique military specs which are designed in order to integrate with the extant force but rather providing complimentary capabilities which can directed by the force, then there is a much wider canvas of innovation from which to adopt autonomous system innovations. Because there are a wide range of civilian and security missions that maritime autonomous systems are already being used for and their roles and numbers will increase to do so, the military can dip into this existing and growing capability as well. The protection of undersea infrastructure and wind farms are two examples which are suggestive of a broader trend. According to CDRE Kavanagh: “We simply will delay adoption of autonomous systems by reducing them to the mantra of integration. By focusing on complementarity and finding ways to use the systems as compliments to the fleet and extending the range of the various effects desired, we can find a variety of missions which these systems can meet now and in the future.” He noted that in the DSR, there is much focus on deterrence by denial. Autonomous systems can clearly help in disrupting adversary operations and deny them quick results against crewed platforms. Then there is the key question of how maritime autonomous systems are being designed from the outset to operate in clusters or wolfpacks. And by so doing, they can operate as an interactive complimentary buffer force operating with the core integrated combat force to deliver persistent effects. In short, one needs to focus on the broader con-ops of the operation of the forces, rather than on the integration of autonomous systems within the much more complicated integrated crewed combat systems. If you don’t, we simply won’t use them in the timely manner as we must in the era of strategic competition within which we live. And an aspect of con-ops we discussed as well was the relationship of maritime autonomous systems and their operations to deterrence. On the one hand, maritime autonomous systems can be deployed as part of a deterrence by detection strategy. This can be enhanced by sharing with partners who are not close allies, or the kind of allies you wish to integrate your crewed platforms with. At the March seminar, Jake Campbell highlighted the importance of deterrence by detection as follows: “Adversaries are less likely to commit opportunistic acts of aggression if they know they are being watched constantly and that their actions can be publicized widely.” On the other hand, when it comes to signalling, a key part of deterrence, sending in a maritime autonomous systems wolfpack simply does not have the same meaning as sending a Aegis led surface action group. It indicates concern, but does not raise the weapons threshold that such SAG is designed to do. In short, maritime autonomous systems considered as complimentary capabilities which are controlled by but not built to be closely integrated with the combat force can deliver a number of the key capabilities which the DSR has called for. Featured Image: 10 May 2022 photo of Rear Admiral Selby, when as the Chief of Naval Research, USN he visited Australia and met with CDRE Kavanagh and Michael Stewart, Director the Unmanned Task Force.

Dr Robbin Laird, The Sir Richard Williams Foundation Seminar September 2023: The Enterprise Requirements of an Australian Multi-Domain Strike Enterprise, 29 Sep 2023 Link to article (Defense.info) On 27 September 2023, the second Williams Foundation seminar for the year was held at the National Gallery in Canberra. The first focused on deterrence and the second provided a case study of building blocks for enhanced deterrent capabilities, namely shaping a multi-domain strike enterprise for the ADF and the support structure for so doing. At the outset of the Seminar, Air Marshal (Retired) Geoff Brown, the Williams Foundation Chairman, underscored the purpose and focus of the seminar: “Simply new weapons like Tomahawk will not by themselves give Australia a credible strike enterprise. All those weapons do not give you a long-range strike capability. We are focused on the requirements to build a multi-domain enterprise beyond the question of the specific weapons.” SQNLDR Sally Knox, the moderator for the seminar and a member of the Williams Foundation added: “The aim of today’s seminar is to further develop the theme of deterrence, which we spoke about at the March conference. We will examine the enterprise requirements of a sovereign multi-domain strike capability in the context of the defence strategic review. As part of that effort, we will examine the apparatus of an Australian capability needed to strike into the into the broader region, including the implications of a national industrial base, as well as access and basing considerations.” Australia has focused on building a fifth-Generation force which inherently is focused on integrability at the high-end. Part of the discussions revolved around looking at next steps, for multi-domain strike is inherent in the concept of fifth generation airpower. Multi-domain strike is about interactive targeting capability across a deployed force or third-party targeting. The question of what the roles of ISR and C2 are in the evolution of fifth generation airpower has been a key theme over the past few years in Williams Foundation seminars. This discussion was broadened to focus on strike enablement by such an integrated force. SQNLDR Sally Knox, the moderator for the Seminar. But linking the first seminar of the year with the second raises a key question: What kinds of strike have higher deterrent value than others? Is it range? Is it targeting the adversary’s C2 and core ISR capabilities? There clearly is a difference between strike delivered by HIMARS systems and by Tomahawks with regard to purpose and deterrent effect. This was inherent in the discussions but not focused on as a core question, but clearly needs further consideration as well. In the report to follow, I will highlight all of the presentations and organize the key contributions of the presenters within the overall discussion of shaping a strike enterprise. Here I will quote a few of the presentations to highlight key themes discussed during the day. The PACAF Commander, General Ken Wilsbach, provided a video presentation. He has been a stalwart supporter of the Williams Foundation seminars during his time as PACAF for many reasons, but a core one is his emphasis on the positive impact of the integratability of the U.S. and Australian Air Forces and their sharing with other allies of their robust integrated operating experience. The collaboration between the operational militaries has been a key factor shaping more effective defence collaboration, and combat and deterrent capabilities. Wilsbach underscored why enhanced multi-domain strike was so important in shaping force evolution in the region: “Multi-domain operations allow us to overwhelm the adversary. Historically, warfare carries certain constants. One of the most important of these is gaining and maintaining the initiative. A combatant seizes the initiative, not through advanced technologies or PACAF Commander, General Ken Wilsbach superior training, but because they hit the adversary hard enough to knock them off balance, then hit them repeatedly to maintain an enduring advantage. pressure generated by synchronizing operations in time and space creates the opportunities where technology and training can make a difference.” In my recent book on the F-35 global enterprise, I emphasized how crucial collaboration among allied militaries has been to even see the emergence of fifth generation capability. General Wilsbach made a similar point with regard to shaping a way ahead for a multi-domain strike enterprise. “Our first job is to ensure that everyone in our respective services understand why these new multi-domain skills are necessary. If they don’t buy in, they won’t work toward developing at the pace we need. “Our second job is to remove the obstacles from their path to modernize, integrate and innovate. “Every person at this conference likely has a story of how a great idea was shut down before it got off the ground purely due to bureaucracy. This is an area that America can and should learn from Australia; your aviators are far less likely to stumble over bureaucratic hurdles than American airmen. We cannot afford to let process stand in the way of progress. “The men and women in this room are the ones who set priorities and establish expectations. If you as leaders are onboard and your aviators are ready, but progress still stalls, find the chaff in your organization and burn it out. We will only be able to effectively compete if we stop hobbling ourselves. First; deterrence is our top priority but should it fail, we must also ensure our people are prepared for what follows. Those same men and women that set the global standard for what an airman or aviator should be in competition must also set the standard for how a joint operator executes the mission and conflict. “Those personnel are the ones most likely to understand the challenges we face from a pure adversary and the inadequacy of a single domain response as leaders convey the why and then trust them to make the changes necessary to accelerate our response for new airmen and aviators joining our ranks built in multi domain warfare concepts from the outset. To them, the differences between services should be nothing more than the uniform.” In a later presentation, the other distinguished foreign airpower leader, Air Marshal Harvey Smyth, the Air and Apace commander, Royal Air Force, underscored that all strike is not equal. He highlighted the importance of longer-range strike, which for the RAF was their Storm Shadow weapon, first deployed on Tornados and now on Eurofighters. The next generation of Storm Shadow is the SPEAR family of weapons being developed to be able to be fired by the F-35 as well. It should be noted that MBDA as a French-British company is a key part of building capability for both air forces and does represent the core need to collaborate in weapons development and production between allied countries. But Smyth added a key thought with regard to multi-domain strike and the defence enterprise. If you are shaping multi-domain strike you need to be focused as well on integrated air and missile defence. This is key reminder that development in one part of defence capability drives change in another. There was significant discussion of the changes in ISR and C2 associated with building a multi-domain strike enterprise. And the several years of discussion of fifth generation airpower and force building in earlier Williams Foundation seminars presaged much of this discussion and provides a significant body of analysis in thinking through the way ahead. ISR delivered through various means, Triton UAVs, space-based assets, F-35s, Growlers, specialized ISR airplanes, etc, are becoming more than simply collectors for decision makers. Given the need to operate at the speed of relevance those ISR Air Marshal Harvey Smyth, the Air and Space Commander, Royal Air Force. operators are now part of providing rapid inputs to strike decisions and are not part of a long ISR to decider kill chain which has been used in the land wars. Speed to relevance requires a significant shift in how ISR is embodied in decision-making more rapidly. One of the speakers, WGCDR Marija Jovanovich, Commanding Officer 10 SQN, explicitly discussed what I think is nothing less than a revolution in ISR capabilities at the tactical edge and their role in empowering distributed force C2. She mentioned explicitly her participation in NAWDCs’ Resolute Hunter exercise, an exercise which I observed in part which highlights the change. The essence of the training seen in Resolute Hunger is part of newly evolving shape of the multi-domain strike enterprise. This is how I and my co-author described the exercise in our book on The Maritime WGCDR Marija Jovanovich, Commanding Officer 10 SQN Kill Web Force in the Making (which coincidently has a drawing of an Australian Triton on the cover): “Cmdr. Pete “Two Times” Salvaggio, the head of the MISR Weapons School (MISRWS), was in charge of the Resolute Hunter exercise. In a discussion with “Two Times” in his office during the November 2020 visit, he underscored the shift underway. The goal of the training embodied in the exercise is for operators in airborne ISR to operate as “puzzle solvers.” Rather than looking at these airborne teams as the human managers of airborne sensors, “we are training future Jedi Knights.” “And to be clear, all the assets used in the exercise are not normally thought of as ISR platforms but are platforms that have significant sensor capabilities. It really was about focusing on sensor networks and sorting through how these platform/networks could best shape an understanding of the evolving mission and paths to mission effectiveness. “The ISR sensor networks with men in the loop can deliver decisions with regard to the nature of the evolving tactical situation, and the kinds of decisions which need to be made in the fluid combat environment. It may be to kill or to adjust judgements about what that battlespace actually signifies in terms of what needs to be done. “And given the speed with which kill decisions need to be made with regards to certain classes of weapons, the ISR/C2 network will operate as the key element of a strike auction. Which shooter needs to do what at which point in time to degrade the target? How best to determine which element of the shoot sequence—not the kill chain—needs to do what in a timely manner, when fighting at the speed of light? “What ISR capabilities can deliver are “moments of clarity” with regard to decisive actions. At a minimum, the ISR teams are shifting from providing information for someone else to make a decision to being able to deconstruct the battlefield decision to craft real time understanding of the situation and the targeting options and priorities.” The discussion of C2 throughout the day underscored the impact of the shift to distributed force operations upon how to make decisions which tapped into various groupings of platforms to deliver multi-domain strike to deliver the desired effect. In the presentation by defence analyst Carl Rhodes, he underscored the scope and nature of the change required: “So if we look at command and control, what allows us to go from today’s capabilities to these future concepts? “First of all, the decision making needs to go from a very centralized process to a more decentralized process, delegating more authority down to the commanders who are in the air, potentially, or to multiple command cells in the field. “The planning and execution can move from primarily a human centric process, assisted by computers, to maybe human centric AI assisted process to an AI enabled process, where humans are helping the process, but the AI is doing a lot of the work. “So that’s command and control. You also need improved communications as well. So today, interoperability exists. It’s enabled in specific kill chains, but doesn’t exist for all parts of the force. “And to move to these future concepts, you need to build it into systems, all systems kind of at birth across domain. You also need to think about resilience rather than just protecting individual links. How do you protect the entire system by using diverse paths independent decision making?” A key theme embedded in several presentations was the nature of the ADF transition needed to fully adapt to multi-domain strike operations. For example, several speakers talked about the significant progress in tactical joint force targeting over the past decade. Now the challenge was to build on that progress to work more effectively to provide strategic multi-domain targeting. And building out the military kit necessary to deliver strike is a key challenge for Australia. Here the working relationship with the United States is key to delivering the initial long-range strike capability. But going forward, as we discussed in the last seminar, there clearly needs to be Carl Rhodes presenting at the Sir Richard Williams Seminar. an arsenal of democracy. This means the United Sates or the European designer of the weapon system is able to open production lines in Australia both Australian and allied needs. As AVM Gerry van Leeuwen, Head of Guided Weapons and Explosive Ordinance put it: “As global suppliers work to refill their inventory still recovering from the impacts of the “COVID global pandemic, they’re working in capacity to meet increasing demand, and the world seems to have woken up. To use an analogy, it looks like everyone’s in the same buffet line. And if you’re the back of the queue, you better not be too hungry. “We’re currently working on creative ways to accelerate orders, and especially those long-range strike weapons. And not surprisingly, those weapons are the same weapons in high demand by the U.S. given our common interest in the Indo-PACOM region. But our AVM Gerry van Leeuwen, Head of Guided Weapons and Explosive Ordinance. relationship is strong and collegiate. The U.S. seemed willing to work with us in that regard, but have cautioned that if they provide advanced weapons for Australia, we sure as hell better be prepared to use them.” The scope of enterprise considerations was a key theme of the presentation by LTGEN John Frewen, Chief of Joint Capabilities. “Multi-domain infers the integration of all five domains, not just the three traditional domains with space, cyber and information as auxiliary add ones. Multi-domain requires the prioritization, sequencing and layering of kinetic and non-kinetic effects at moments in time and throughout a campaign. And this applies in both competition and conflict. “And I offer four thoughts or areas for focus around Australia’s multi-domain strike enterprise…I’m just back from the U.S. last week. And all of the briefings I recently received spoke to see five ISR T and the T is targeting. “And I think this is clear acknowledgment that our command-and-control systems and our targeting systems are inherently linked. And we’ve got to start to design and operate our C2 and targeting systems as part of a whole and to defend them and our freedom to operate through cybersecurity, space control and electronic warfare. “We will also need the ability to force generate the people and collective skills required to generate increasingly complex targeting and that will be an endeavor on itself. “Secondly, no C2 targeting system going forward will be effective unless it is empowered through artificial LTGEN John Frewen, Chief of Joint Capabilities. intelligence. This is both in a sense of data management of ever-increasing volumes of data and decision support in ever more complicated environments, including machine on machine contests. We must build effective AI into all of our systems from here on in and start to grow the specialist workforce needed to design enable and oversee ai ai capabilities. “Whether in competition or conflict, no government or military endeavor will succeed without understanding, if not dominating the information environment. And this has always been true even if we have not always been as conscious of it as we are now. “What has changed is the scale of content and range of mediums for information, the evolution of the art of misinformation, and the appetite of some populations for alternative truths. All of this is now being fueled by machine capabilities and AI in ways that are beyond traditional means of management. “We must increasingly grow our capacities both human and machine in the information environment. This is essential to deterrence and to competition and conflict and we must not permit a targeting system to evolve that is not fully aware of and nested with information and other non-kinetic effects. “And finally, we cannot overlook the centrality of logistics to all we do. This applies to multi-domain targeting as much as it does to conventional maneuver. Targeting, even in its most kinetic sense, will require a resilient logistics network to deliver money, munitions, maintenance and sustainment both here domestically. “And in areas of intense conflict, it will be folly to develop a sophisticated targeting enterprise that does not have comparable investment in a logistics enterprise that has in recent decades been designed for efficiency rather than resilience.” Air Marshal (Retired) Brown concluded the session by raising two cautionary notes. The first was the question of structuring DoD to be able to deliver the effects desired. And second was the question of resources. “We have a DSR that is strategically ambitious. And I basically agree with most of the things that are in it, but it is not funded. And while it is not funded, that creates an enormous problem for the DoD and for the IDF going forward.” Air Marshal (Retired) Geoff Brown.

Dr Robbin Laird, The DSR and the Australian Strike Enterprise 30 Sep 2023 Link to article (Defense.info) We need to start first with considering how the 2023 Australian Defence Review has prioritized the need for enhanced ADF strike capabilities. In the review, the notion of enhanced strike capability entails shaping longer-range reach of those capabilities, the enhancement of joint strike capabilities and the shaping of an industrial base to support the strike enterprise transition. Here is some of the language from the DSR regarding the strike enterprise: “Due to the significant changes in Australia’s strategic circumstances, the Government agrees with the Review’s finding that the ADF as currently constituted and equipped is not fully fit for purpose. The Government deeply appreciates those who serve in the ADF and is committed to ensuring our people have the capabilities and resources they need. Delivering the Government’s vision and implementing the findings of the Review will require a more holistic approach to defence planning and strategy. Air Vice-Marshal (Retired) Zed Roberton presenting at the September Williams Foundation seminar. “Australia must have a fully integrated and more capable ADF operating across five domains which work seamlessly together on joint operations to deliver enhanced and joined-up combat power. Navy must have enhanced lethality – including through its surface fleet and conventionally-armed, nuclear-powered submarines – underpinned by a continuous naval shipbuilding program. Army must be optimised for littoral operations in our northern land and maritime spaces and provide a long-range strike capability. Air Force must provide the air support for joint operations in our north by conducting surveillance, air defence, strike and air transport. Defence must also continue to develop its cyber and space capabilities. “The Government’s immediate actions to reprioritise Defence’s capabilities in line with the Review’s recommendations include: investing in conventionally-armed, nuclear-powered submarines through the AUKUS partnership; developing the ADF’s ability to precisely strike targets at longer range and manufacture munitions in Australia….” (Page 7) A key focus is upon “an enhanced long-range strike capability in all domains.” (Page 19). This is one of the justifications proffered for acquiring nuclear powered attack submarines. “The acquisition of conventionally-armed, nuclear-powered submarines will transform Navy’s capability. Nuclear-powered submarines are key assets both in effecting a strategy of denial and in the provision of anti-submarine warfare and long-range strike options.” (Page 56). For Army this means: “Defence must rapidly accelerate and expand Army’s littoral manoeuvre vessels (medium and heavy landing craft) and long-range fires (land-based maritime strike) programs. This will require Army to re-posture key capabilities.” (Page 59). This is translated in the DSR in terms of acquiring HIMARS and a land-based maritime strike capability. (Page 59). For the RAAF, the B-21 is rejected as an acquisition option but there is an emphasis on “F-35A Joint Strike Fighter and F/A-18F Super Hornet aircraft must be able to operate the Long-Range Anti-Ship Missile. The Joint Strike Missile (JSM) should also be integrated onto the F-35A. To enable the F-35A fleet to operate the JSM, the aircraft will need to be upgraded to Block 4 configuration.” (Page 61). And finally, Australia must build up its production capability in the strike area. “Long-range strike and other guided weapons are fundamental to the ADF’s ability to hold an adversary at risk in Australia’s northern approaches. To do this, the ADF must hold sufficient stocks of guided weapons and explosive ordnance (GWEO) and have the ability to manufacture certain lines.” (Page 68). At the Williams Foundation seminar held on 27 September 2023 on the enterprise requirements of an Australian multi-domain strike capability, the former Air Commander Australia, Air Vice-Marshal (Retired) Zed Roberton discussed the DSR and strike. Roberton looked back at the history of ADF orientations and engagements and argued that until the 2020 defence initiative of the government, the ADF was equally balanced among three objectives: “Those were to defend Australia, look after the near region and to contribute to global coalitions as part of the global order. It was really interesting that those three objectives were equally weighted by design.” After 2020 and in the recent DSR, the shift has been clearly to prioritizing Australian defence within the Indo-Pacific. And in so doing, he underscored that the focus is not just the defence of Australia to the North but a much broader focus on the Indo-Pac region. This means that Australia now faces a “four ocean front” in designing and operating its force in the defense of Australia. But given the size of Australia as a continent, and the relatively small population, the ADF needs to be capable of generating agility to generate the mass required to make a significant strategic effect. Roberton argued that the ADF needs to follow three principles to generate the capability needed for agility and force integration to achieve a desired strategic effect. The first is redundancy, not resilience. “We have too many single points of failure. The multi-domain approach provides a way to focus on redundancy in strike.” The second is agility. Roberton underscored: “When you’ve got a small number of people in a defense force with a small base, your ability to bring about an effect around the continental landmass or its approaches and hold forces at risk further from Australia requires agility. And a level of agility not just in capabilities, but in our procedures and processes.” The third is focused mass. This obviously is the goal of multi-domain strike, to have an ability for an agile force to concentrate across multiple domains the desired strategic effect. Going forward, Roberton argued that “we will se a massive focus on things like uncrewed aerial vehicles, uncrewed sea vehicles or land vehicles, the ability to have pre-positioned missile systems and of course, synchronized with cyber and in space effects.” He concluded that two questions are critical moving forward which we need to consider. “How does Australia hold adversary forces at risk further from our shores? And and what does next generation deterrence really look like?” But he warned that the question of both resourcing and prioritization in defence raises real challenges for the kind of force adapation which Australia will need. He provided a slide in his presentation which highlighted the extent of the budget challenge. Put in simple terms: how does Australia pay for its nuclear submarine project and at the same time source the overall ADF transition to a multi-domain capable defence force?

Dr Robbin Laird, Considering the Nature of Strike and Its Role in Deterrence Strategy, 1 Oct 2023 Link to article (Defense.info) At the 27 September 2023 Williams Foundation Seminar, Chris McInnes of the Foundation provided a conceptual analysis of the elements of strike and their utility In warfighting and deterrence. He warned against the experience of the past two decades where precision strike has been used by the liberal democracies to reduce risk to themselves and collateral damage against our adversaries. He looked back at World War II and provided several examples of the need for a prolonged campaign of strike to achieve objectives, and indeed, the challenges facing World War II bombing campaigns in Europe to achieve objectives as the Germans responded in asymmetric ways to reduce the strategic effect of those strike efforts on the German war effort. McInnes underscored: “Understanding the driving purposes behind why Australia is investing in strike is crucial to building strike forces. Strike direction must be supported by diverse philosophies that enable a generation of new ideas and approaches. These in turn should be tried and tested through many small experiments. These philosophical elements underpin the range of opportunities strike provides. “To exploit these opportunities, we must carefully consider the elements of utility and access. Utility is context dependent, and includes considerations of effectiveness, reliability, flexibility, and repeatability. Access is an outcome of operational reach, which requires the packaging of forces with appropriate permissions, range, responsiveness and sustainability.” Chris McInnes speaking at the Williams Foundation Seminar 27 September 2023 . I would note that the DSR talks often of deterrence by denial in which clearly multi-domain strike plays a key role. But what is the exact correlation between types of strikes and where they are delivered to achieve deterrence by denial? This really is an unanswered question in the DSR but is crucial in connecting any considerations of what strike, when and how leads to deterrence rather than ongoing escalation. The war in Ukraine certainly is a warning with regard to the question of what strike options are related to war termination which is the function of deterrence in conflict short of total war. There seems to be little consideration of how escalating strike options for Ukraine is connected with war termination or “victory.” In effect, McInnes was calling for clear headed thinking with regard to shaping long range and multi-domain strike capabilities by Australia to the strategic purposes of deterrence. McInnes provided a one-slide summary of what he called the elements of strike. This slide underscored that the strike which is possible needs to be correlated with the purpose and duration of conducting strikes. Where are your strike assets deployed or located? What can they achieve against your adversary? In tactical terms and in deterrent meaning? Long-range strike is part of an effort to touch the adversary further from your forces or your territory. Yet multi-domain strike in a key area delivered by ground-maritime-air forces tactically may have the strategic effect one is looking for. But from my personal point of view, it is crucial to link strike considerations with deterrent considerations with capabilities to negotiate in conflict situations. Strike capabilities are key parts of negotiating from strength, but only if the political actors understand the relationship between particular strike capabilities and conflict termination. This is a subject for considered attention going forward.

On 24 October 2019, the Sir Richard Williams Foundation is holding a seminar examining the requirements of #5thgenmanoeuvre. The aim of the seminar, building on previous seminars and series looking at #jointstrike and #highintensitywar, is to examine the differences and potential gaps in how the Australian Defence Force must equip and organise for multi-domain operations. We are delighted to welcome first-time contributor, Dougal Robertson, to The Central Blue to explore the critical question of what the people orchestrating #5thgenmanoeuvre will look like. In this first of two parts, Dougal imagines the future maneouvrist to be something quite different. What does a fifth-generation manoeuvrist look like? They will not look like this: General Sir John Monash. (Source: Australian War Memorial) Furthermore, they will not look like this: Air Chief Marshal Sir Frederick Scherger (Source: Australian War Memorial) Moreover, despite what media speculation might have us believe; they will not look like this: What we know is they will look less like the Australian Defence Force of today, and more like the Australia of the future. That is, they could be anyone who chooses to serve their country through the application of military power in support of the Australian government’s objectives. What Monash, Scherger, and the archetypal computer hacker have in common is the power of imagination. Monash — an outsider — understood the application of combined arms warfare, a revolutionary concept in 1918, instinctively. Scherger — an outsider — understood the application of flexibility in aircraft combined with mission design, developing a concept during the Second World War of multirole aircraft, and grasping the requirement for the RAAF to embrace technological change and integrate within a coalition. The computer hacker — an outsider — understands how networks function and can creatively identify weak points within those networks inherently. There are many individual examples in military history of creative outsiders generating unconventional ideas that are now accepted wisdom. In the application of air power, this includes John Boyd and energy manoeuvrability theory, and John Warden III and precision bombing.[1] However, the shift in the past quarter-century from an industrial paradigm to an information paradigm in warfare has disrupted all conventional ways of thinking about conflict. With hindsight the ‘revolution in military affairs’ of the early 1990s was a failed coup; the last act in the theatre of two-dimensional, linear industrial warfare.[2] The current and unfolding information revolution is a complete disruption to the previously-existing order. It forces us to change the cognitive models we use to represent reality and frame and resolve complex military problems.[3] Warfare occurs within society — it is not isolated on a mythical battlefield where clearly defined rules apply. Therefore, warfare reflects modern society. Moreover, the information revolution has flattened what that society looks like: all combatants, adversaries, competitors and insurgents have access to the internet, low-cost technology and distributed communication systems. They are all connected. We are connected to them. The fact of our presence causes a reaction, regardless of our actual behaviour.[4] That means we can no longer conceive of military operations and plans unfolding in a linear, two-dimensional fashion. The industrial model of warfare looks like this:[5] We start at a time, T-0, and progress through our objective to the End State. Apart from the questionable assumption that the adversary and environment will agree with our plan, this ignores the complexity of external factors pressing on each ‘Objective:’ the complex interaction of human behaviours, the changes in perception, irrational decisions and equipment failures. An earlier theorist called these external factors ‘friction’. This is an excellent metaphor for the industrial warfare paradigm. People and plans must move forward in time and space, and friction slows things down, but the final objective is ultimately achieved through overwhelming force.[6] However, what if we fight on a battlefield (and ‘operating environment’) that looks more like this. A map of the internet, c. 2005 It is probably impossible to conceptualise, in human terms that can be displayed on this page, what the internet of 2019 looks like. Moreover, this is essentially the problem we are asking fifth generation manoeuvrists to resolve. What a fifth-generation manoeuvrist must develop and master is mental agility that is like the coming swarm: able to rapidly form ad-hoc networks, route around problems or blockages, and make decisions independently to achieve a broadly defined outcome.[7] There are no concurrent lines of operation drawn on a briefing slide for a swarm. The outcome itself depends on the behaviour or input of externalities to the system. This may seem abstruse and theoretical. However, the great advantage of the information revolution is that technology has coming close to providing us with the capability to represent human behaviour through the exploration of networks and systems, using visualisation tools once considered the realm of science fiction. If the study of warfare is the study of human interactions, then technology allows us to edge closer to seeing the world outside the frame of our individual existence and cognition. If we imagine the snapshot of the internet above as consisting of computers and people (an internet protocol address can be both a ‘thing’ on the internet and an individual user), we can begin to understand how a system functions. Technology allows us to identify the bridges between ‘things’, or entities, such as radars, aircraft, trunked mobile radios and iPhones, and the system in which they function. This is the network layer that enables connections between nodes on different networks. Previously, we could only conceptualise our own ‘local’ network. Now, the information revolution assists us to conceptualise multiple networks and understand how they connect. What the swarming mind can do is understand the objects that comprise a network and visualise the networks that comprise a system. This system may be a set of human behaviours, such as a terrorist media network, or a nation-state’s power grid, or a collection of air defence radars, but it always consists of a hierarchy of objects and networks that inform human behaviours. The swarming mind can frame the problem and disaggregate it into specific components. Properly implemented this cognitive framework will be transformative, allowing airmen to guide and observe autonomous systems and machine decision-making, instead of setting limits using a Boolean tree of decisions (much like the ‘logical lines of operation’ used in industrial warfare). They will be integrators of technology, not just controllers. This is far from a simple task. However, it can be grown through culture. Clive James wrote that “culture is what is left when you take everything else away”.[8] The Australian Defence Force has a robust culture that exists outside equipment, weapon systems and buildings. Culture grows and adapts within groups and individuals – networks and systems. We now need to feed that culture and grow the fifth-generation manoeuvrist with the swarming mind. In part two, I will explain how the ADF can incubate and grow a culture to master the emerging and disruptive technologies of information warfare. Squadron Leader Dougal Robertson is an officer in the Royal Australian Air Force. He holds a Master of Arts in Policing, Intelligence and Counter-Terrorism through Macquarie University. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect the views of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government. [1] J. Jogerst, ‘Airpower Trends 2010: The Future Is Closer Than You Think,’ Air & Space Power Journal, 23:2 (2009), p. 127. [2] B. Jensen, ‘The role of ideas in defense planning: Revisiting the revolution in military affairs,’ Defence Studies, 18:3 (2018), pp. 302-17. [3] S. Metz, Armed conflict in the 21st century: The information revolution and post-modern warfare (Strategic Studies Institute, U.S. Army War College, 2000). [4] D. Cortright, ‘Winning without war: Nonmilitary strategies for overcoming violent extremism,’ Transnational Law Contemporary Problems, 21:1 (2012), 197-226. [5] G. Hodge, ‘Wargaming Courses of Action During Other-Than-Major Combat Operations,’ Small Wars Journal (2012). [6] An alternative interpretation is that Clausewitz conceived of ‘general friction’ being overcome by creative genius. See T. Waldman, ‘Shadows of Uncertainty’: Clausewitz’s Timeless Analysis of Chance in War,’ Defence Studies, 10:3 (2010), pp. 336-68. [7] A. McCullough, ‘The Looming Swarm,’ Air Force Magazine (2019). [8] C. James, Cultural amnesia: Necessary memories from history and the arts, First Edition (New York: W.W. Norton, 2007). #organisationalculture #RoyalAustralianAirForce #AustralianDefence #AustralianDefenceForce #ManeouvreWarfare

#BookReview: “Why all this fuss about airplanes for the Army? I thought we already had one!” In this piece, Carl Rhodes reviews the new book ‘At the Dawn of Airpower’ and explores what it was like to integrate an entirely new class of technology into military operations and thinking – and how we might learn from it in this century. With questions around where to place new capabilities in existing organisations, to dealing with the political fallout from test failures, the initial coming of age of airpower was not straightforward and, as Rhodes points out, was highly reliant on how people worked together to bring about a wholesale revolution in the way military force was composed. Laurence M. Burke II’s At the Dawn of Airpower conveys the complex history associated with the integration of airplanes into the U.S. Army, Navy and Marine Corps. The book covers the decade between the Wright brothers’ first manned flight and the U.S. entry into World War I. The work heavily leverages Burke’s doctoral thesis and fills an apparent gap in academic research about U.S. military airpower prior to the First World War. Before proceeding further with this review, I need to make a confession. I am an engineer by training with two and a half decades of experience in defence policy. In a recent New York Times review of naval history, Ian W. Toll states that working as a historian is “like a spinach-eating competition in which the only possible prize is another helping of fresh, steaming vegetables.” In this context, I am clearly not a vegetarian, nor do I habitually eat a great deal of spinach. However, as someone who has read extensively on technology and airpower, this book provides a detailed history and is thoroughly referenced (unlike another recent popular book on airpower in World War II which shall not be named). It was also a fascinating and enjoyable read. While the book focuses on military innovation, Burke chooses to forego innovation frameworks as its methodological foundation. He instead leverages Actor/Network Theory (ANT), a method often used in the history of technology. This theory assumes that change results from the interactions of a variety of actors, which might include decision makers, advocates, converts to new ideas or even the hardware needed to demonstrate new concepts. The interactions of these actors form a network, which together may advance or hold back incorporation of new technology or, in a similar fashion, concepts for using that technology. This ANT methodology is useful in understanding the complex story of how three services approached the initial incorporation of aircraft into their force structure. There is enough content for at least two books here, one focused on Army history and a second on the Navy and Marines. Chapters in Burke’s work alternate between the story of the Army and that of the Navy and Marines, with each chapter covering two to four years of the decade. A pair of additional chapters examine interservice linkages at the beginning and second half of the decade. Such linkages were especially important at the individual aviator level in the early years but became more important at higher levels over time when coordination on issues around science and technology increased in importance. The short Prologue does a good job setting the stage prior to 1907, describing key events associated with modern U.S. flight research in the late 1800s. Ideas around how future aircraft might be employed in warfare were also being developed prior to 1900. In 1898, five years before the Wright brothers’ famous flight at Kitty Hawk, a Joint board examined the feasibility of flying machines in conflict. Guidance for the board’s work came from Theodore Roosevelt, Assistant Secretary of the Navy at the time. The board judged that Samuel Langley’s Aerodrome, a leading technology advancing towards manned flight, could eventually carry a man and might be useful as a limited means for reconnaissance, communications or dropping high explosives from a great height. Early on, many in the Navy didn’t see much utility in airplanes. As a result, it was the Army who invested in early development and construction of Langley’s manned flying machine. The investment failed to pay off in spectacular fashion, with two crashes of the manned Aerodrome prior to flight in public events a couple of months apart. After these failures, sentiment in the public and in Congress turned against funding additional work. Because of this backlash, the Army required a flying test as part of its first aircraft acquisition requirements. This and other events delayed delivery of its first aircraft, a Wright Military Flyer, to 1909. This interaction, described in much greater detail in the book, is an early case study that highlights how complex interactions between individuals in various military organisations, aircraft developers, Congress and the successes and failures of various aircraft designs lead to delays in incorporating new technology. An unnamed congressman in 1911, capturing the attitude of the time, was supposedly overheard saying about funding “Why all this fuss about airplanes for the Army? I thought we already had one!” Organisationally, the Army and Navy both struggled with where to place these aircraft in their respective organisations. The Army eventually placed aircraft under the Signal Corps, a good initial match given the Corps’ responsibilities for collection and dissemination of information. While this allowed aircraft to quickly advance their abilities in reconnaissance and communications, growth in other mission areas (including bombing and other offensive missions) proved challenging. The Navy, with its more decentralised structure, didn’t have an obvious initial home for aviation and initially placed airplanes under its Bureau of Navigation. Naval airpower grew more slowly as it never found a logical home in the Navy’s organisation of the time, even after being moved under the newly founded Chief of Naval Operations in 1915. Technology associated with airplanes advanced quickly during the decade. In 1910 and 1911, naval airpower firsts included flying an aircraft off a modified ship deck using a catapult, landing an aircraft on a modified ship deck and landing a “hydroaeroplane” on the water near a ship and later hoisting it onboard. Another key development involved the transition from rear-engined aircraft (pushers), where the engine had the disastrous side effect of crushing the crew during a crash, to safer aircraft with an engine in front of the crew. Other advances included aeronautical compasses (that wouldn’t be affected by an engine’s electrical system or vibrations), radios for communications (initially limited to sending information, due to the size and weight of receivers) and bombsights for both hand-dropped and mechanically released explosives. Demonstrations were also conducted around firing machine guns and other weapons from the air. As the technology advanced, the U.S. military struggled to incorporate these new technologies into operations. Training of military aviators was a critical early need and was initially conducted onsite at the aircraft builders of the day: Wright and Curtiss. Early disputes over intellectual property meant that the control schemes for aircraft from the two manufacturers were quite different for many years. This meant that pilots trained on one company’s controls couldn’t learn to fly the other company’s aircraft. Specific qualifications for being a “military aviator” also had to be developed and, later, military training centres were built to qualify pilots in each of the services. In terms of doctrine, very little was done to examine how U.S. airpower might be best employed and integrated with other forces. Flying at this time was a dangerous endeavour. As a result, most aviators were more focused on survival as compared to developing airpower employment concepts. As Burke notes, new officers assigned to training during this decade only slightly outpaced losses due to death, reassignment, and withdrawal for personal reasons. While aircraft conducted limited tests with bombs and machine guns, tactics and doctrine for such operations were never developed. Neither the Army nor the Navy leadership had interest in the offensive uses of aircraft at the time. The limited payloads associated with early aircraft meant that they simply couldn’t deliver much firepower and, organisationally, both services were more interested in reconnaissance roles for airpower. The military learned valuable lessons about airpower in U.S. operations against Mexico in 1914-1916. The Navy deployed two planes, by ship, to the Mexican port of Veracruz in 1914 in support of its landing force. This led to the realisation that the Curtiss seaplanes (also known as “flying boats”) couldn’t take off or land in heavy seas. As a result, it was recommended that future naval aircraft be designed to operate off a ship’s deck rather than taking off and landing on the water. Army aviation assets, deployed as part of the 1916 Punitive Expedition against Pancho Villa’s forces, quickly discovered that its Curtiss JN-3 aircraft weren’t operationally useful in the Chihuahuan Desert. The desert is roughly 5,000 feet above sea level, near the JN-3 operational ceiling, limiting their ability to effectively perform reconnaissance in and around the nearby mountains. The requirements for future Army aircraft would need to account for such environments. The U.S. was also able to take advantage of valuable lessons from the European experience at the start of World War I. George Owen Squier, military attaché to London, sent back detailed reports about how the British were training, organising and equipping their Royal Flying Corps. Navy attachés in London, Paris and Berlin sent similar reports based on their observations. While such reports were circulated widely to the General Staff and strongly influenced leadership thinking about the utility of aircraft in bombing and artillery spotting, this same information never made it to aviation schools where it could have influenced training and doctrine development. By April 1917, when the United States formally entered World War I, each of the services had an established and growing aviation force and had started to learn to integrate aircraft with other forces. This is less than 8 years after the U.S. received its first military aircraft, quite an achievement when thinking about today’s development, acquisition and force integration timelines. However, in 1917 the U.S. also found itself woefully behind other European powers in aviation technology, doctrine, and training. As Burke notes, “Neither the services nor the manufacturers in the United States had an aircraft even on the drawing board that could hold its own in aerial combat as it existed on the Western Front.” Because of this fact, the U.S. found itself “flat footed” when entering the war in Europe. Some who become closely associated with airpower later in their careers make interesting cameos in this book. In 1913, prior to having any flight experience, Capt. William “Billy” Mitchell testified to a House Committee that aircraft would be of most use for reconnaissance against large units and that aircraft should remain under the Army Signal Corps as “The offensive value of [the airplane] has not been proved.” When Mitchell eventually takes up flying in 1916, we learn that several sources describe his student flying as “erratic.” We also learn about Second Lieutenant Henry “Hap” Arnold’s aviation training in 1911 with Orville and Wilbur Wright and his continued involvement with airpower during this time. In summary, I found this “serving of spinach” to be fascinating and delightful and look forward to consuming more vegetables in the future. Reading this book also reminded me that many challenges which delay the integration of new military technology persist even today. My personal research over the past two decades has included a range of issues around remote and autonomous systems. Questions about where such systems should reside on the organisational charts, what level of funding new systems should receive, how to doctrinally employ new technology and what training operators of these systems should receive endure to this day and answers aren’t being developed quickly. Let’s all hope that we can do more than just “observe” the historic lessons captured in Burke’s history to help better incorporate new technologies like space, cyber and autonomous systems. Should major conflict erupt in the Indo-Pacific over the coming years, we simply can’t afford to find ourselves flat footed. Carl Rhodes is founder of Robust Policy, a Canberra firm providing high-quality analysis and policy solutions. Previously, he served 25 years with RAND Corporation including a term as director of RAND Australia.

Editorial Note: On 11 April 2019, the Sir Richard Williams Foundation is holding a seminar examining high-intensity operations and sustaining self-reliance. The aim of the seminar, building on previous seminars and series looking at #jointstrike and #highintensitywar, is to establish a common understanding of the importance and challenges of sustaining a self-reliant Australian Defence Force in a challenging environment. In support of the seminar, The Central Blue and Logistics in War will be publishing a series of articles. In this article, David Beaumont examines how we sustain self-reliance. Discussions about self-reliance, like many other conversations among defence planners, rarely begins with a conversation on supply and support. Most will end with it. The ability of a military to conduct operations independently of another’s aid is intrinsically linked to the capacity to move, supply and support that force. It would be a mistake to think that the Australian Defence Force (ADF) can go into a future war, especially one that tests the upper limits of its capabilities if not a national crisis, without the support of others. At a simplistic level, many of our weapons, ammunition and components are acquired from other nations, or as we see with major capital programs, produced with others. We complement our forces – in all domains – with discrete logistics capabilities provided by others. Even in those times where the mantle of coalition leadership has fallen upon the ADF’s shoulders, as we saw with regional peacemaking and keeping operations of the last twenty years, the ADF has been supported from other quarters.  What is important for us to understand, now, is what the limits to self-reliance are. Much of the conversation about logistics and its impact on national aspirations to self-reliance is coached in monumental terms and issues. National fuel supplies, prioritised sovereign defence industries and national manufacturing capacity, economic resilience in an era of globalisation; these contemporary, popularised, topics give us pause to consider major national security concerns in a time of increasing strategic competition. They have been topics of interest to Australian governments and strategists for decades, beyond the period in which self-reliance was ensconced in the strategic doctrine of the 1970s, ’80s and ’90s, and to the interwar period where lessons from the First World War reminded them to be prepared for national mobilisation. As important as our relationships with like-minded nations might be, there has always been a niggling doubt in the back of our minds compelling us to prepare for logistics independence. As the Second World War proved, even in a coalition conflict there will be times the ADF will need to ‘go it alone’ and sustain itself as our allies resources are drawn elsewhere. The ADF, its partners in academia, industry and government, are at a point where the discussion has to get to the specifics of the problem. Moreover, this discussion must tread into the deep, dark, recesses of Defence modernisation with questions asked as to how long our impressive new capabilities, from the RAAF’s F-35 to the Army’s Combat Reconnaissance Vehicle, can endure on the battlefield of the future when our friends are far away. This article will briefly touch upon some areas which the professionally interested will have to tread. An Australian Army soldier Corporal ‘M’ conducts a stock take of ballistic helmets at the Special Operations Logistics Squadron quartermaster store. (Source: Australian Department of Defence) Logistics has long been regarded as a crucial component of military capability, and the supply and support given to armed forces a major constituent of operational success. Logistics constraints and strengths can shape strategy, determine the form and means of operations, and if given nothing more than a passing glance by military commanders and civilian planners, will prevent combat forces from ever achieving their full potential in the air, and on the sea and land. As we seek to answer the question, ‘what can we achieve on our own?’, a really difficult question to answer, solutions to our logistics problems and concerns must be front and centre. A suborned view of logistics in this discussion about self-reliance is way out of step with the strategic reality facing the ADF. In engaging with this reality, we might see that logistics is, in fact, a strategic capability in its own right. What are the big logistics challenges to confirming our limits and freedoms of action in terms of self-reliance then? I have already mentioned some of the primary national security and strategic concerns above; critical issues for Australia to resolve in the coming years. Without necessarily delving too deep into national security infrastructure, what is arguably more important are the political and policy levers which set in motion the national endeavours that ultimately manifest in military logistics. In recent years we have seen defence industry policy renewed alongside strategic policy, we have seen the Services develop close and valuable ties with industry partners, and we have seen a commitment to sovereign defence industries. Only time will tell whether this will be enough in a time of significant crisis. If the strategic competition continues, it may be a time to seriously question what full or partial industrial mobilisation might entail for the nation – or more importantly how to actually do it. Many years ago the Minister for Defence held a ‘War Book’ which set the ground rules for the process of mobilisation at the highest national levels; perhaps a new one is needed if we are serious about the prospects for high-intensity conflict in the future. At the military strategic level, the ADF’s self-reliance will be measured in the time it can sustain operations without replenishment from other quarters.  If it lacks the warstocks or support capabilities to sustain its materiel, the capacity of the global supply chain to support the operational requirements will be crucial. There are some commodities essential for our way of war that we cannot produce nationally such as precision weapons and ammunition. The problem for Defence is that it is very difficult to determine how self-reliant the ADF might be while global supply-chains are opaque and Australia lacks the levers to intervene in global markets directly. It may be that in a time of crisis traditional boundaries such as intellectual property rights will need to be challenged, industry capacity seconded to defence interests, and projects redirected in new directions at very short notice (see here). At the very least ADF and industry should discuss how industry ‘scales’ in parallel with any expansion of the fielded force. It is impossible to talk about coordinating this activity without commenting on the nature of strategic logistics control in the Defence Organisation. Because the problems are large, the ways in which concerns on self-reliance will be addressed will invariably be pan-organisational in nature. Commander Joint Logistics Command might be the CDF’s ‘strategic J4’ or key logistics commander, but he or she partners with the Capability, Acquisition and Sustainment Group, Estate and Infrastructure Group, the Services and others within what’s called the ‘Defence Logistics Enterprise’. Each organisation naturally has a different perspective as to what ‘self-reliance’ means, and there is always a risk that Defence will have difficulty identifying where its logistics risks and opportunities truly lie in this context. Quite clearly the analysis of what the ADF’s ‘logistics limits’ are requires a coherent effort with solutions achieved through mutually supporting activities conducted across the organisation. This may mean we reinvigorate the idea of ‘national support’ as a collective process in which industry and the military can work together to support operations; where national industry support to military operations is included at a conceptual level. The strategic level challenges to self-reliance might fundamentally shape whether the ADF could perform in the way intended, but we cannot forget the challenges to operational self-reliance either. The most significant operational-level challenge to self-reliance, I argue, is with respect to strategic mobility. The ADF regularly seeks operational-level support in terms of intelligence and a wide range of capabilities that a military of our size simply could not realistically produce. Perhaps there will be a time in which very long-distance fires will overcome the geography between an adversary and us, but until they do to a level that satisfies the desired military outcome strategic mobility capabilities will continue to be critical to the ADF. Until then, our strategic mobility will be critical to achieving a persistent response (whether that be on land or at sea) to an offshore threat. Most of our partners declare their own paucity in strategic mobility capacity which suggests that even if our future conflicts are shared, we might still need to invest heavily in order to meet our own requirements. On top of the mobility capabilities themselves, the aircraft and the ships and the contracted support we can muster from the nation, we cannot forget the ‘small’ enablers that support a deployed force. In our recent campaigns in the Middle-east, we have been heavily dependent upon our coalition partners for the subsistence of our forces. There is a real risk that our operational habits may have created an environment which gives false expectations of the logistics risk resident within the ADF, especially when it comes to conducting operations without coalition support. As the Services look to their future force structure, it will serve them well to scrutinise not only those capabilities essential for basic standards of living, but the widespread of logistics capabilities are essential complements to their major platforms. These include over-the-shore logistics capabilities for amphibious operations, expeditionary base capabilities as well those elements of the force that receive, integrate and onforward soldiers, sailors and airmen and women into the operational area. With the newly formed Joint Capabilities Group, the ADF has a significant opportunity to address these operational challenges to self-reliance comprehensively. You do not have to deeply analyse Defence logistics to understand that self-reliance is underpinned by the ADF’s – if not the nation's – capacity to sustain and support its operations. The comments here are certainly not revelatory, nor are the allusions to the limits of ADF’s capability particularly surprising. For the ADF to be effective in a high-intensity conflict, there is still a way to go yet, irrespective of whether it goes to way within a coalition or not. There is every chance that even if the ADF does deploy as part of a coalition, it will still be necessary for it to have a capacity to support itself. It is understandably important that we have a conversation about the limits to self-reliance in the current time of peace and think deeply about establishing the policy infrastructure and organisational arrangements that will enable us to make good judgements on what the ADF can or cannot do alone. Without doing so, we risk logistics capability being revealed as a constraint on ADF operations, not a source of opportunity and the well from which the joint force draws its strength to fight. David Beaumont writes regularly at www.logisticsinwar.com (T: @davidblogistics). The views here are his own. #AustralianDefenceForce #Logistics

In this piece, multiple-time contributor Chris McInnes makes the argument that the RAAF must build the capacity and capability to lead complex air – and now space – operations in its region, either in coalition or isolation. During its first century, many of the RAAF's operations have either been apart of a coalition or even under the direct command of other allied forces. To be ready for the future, McInnes puts forward a number of recommendations to enable the RAAF to independently lead air power operations in its second century. You can follow Chris McInnes on Twitter at @guiness_aus The Royal Australian Air Force’s second century poses new challenges for the service as the comfortable assumptions that shaped its first century crumble. One hundred years of contributing to operations led by others leaves the RAAF ill-prepared to lead operations, but this is precisely what it must be prepared to do in the next century. This will be a profound institutional challenge, but is one which presents opportunities, and one for which the RAAF’s proud achievements provide firm foundations. The RAAF built a fine leadership record in technical and managerial spheres over its first hundred years. From a tiny base in 1939, the RAAF built itself into the world’s fourth largest air force by headcount in 1945. The service’s implementation of airworthiness and technical regulations since the early 1990s has become a benchmark for military aviation and safety around the world, while its force element group (FEG) structure was an innovative construct that positioned the service superbly to manage individual capabilities. These are just a few of many examples of positive RAAF leadership. But examples of strong institutional leadership from the RAAF on operations are harder to find. During World War 2, the RAAF’s organisational leadership – or lack thereof – in the European theatre was best summed up by historian Alan Stephens, as an, “institutional disaster.” Unlike the RCAF which aggregated Bomber Command’s Canadian squadrons under a single group led by a Canadian, the RAAF did not pursue opportunities to direct or influence the operations of Australians in the bomber offensive against Germany. As a result, the RAAF gained limited institutional insight into the challenges of running a major air war. In the Pacific, the RAAF did command its own units in the guises of Nos 9 and 10 Operational Groups and 1st Tactical Air Force, directed by RAAF Command under AVM William Bostock. However, this learning opportunity was squandered by appalling in-fighting between Bostock and AVM George Jones, the RAAF’s chief from 1942 to 1952, and the reality that Australian forces were effectively sidelined after the New Guinea campaign concluded. Jones had Bostock summarily retired in 1946, despite high praise from Bostock’s wartime American operational superiors, and with him went virtually all the RAAF’s experience of operational higher command. The RAAF’s leadership during WW2 is perhaps best summed by the title of an authoritative book on RAAF higher command during the war by Norman Ashworth, How not to Run an Air Force! While the RAAF could proudly claim in 1945 it was the fourth largest group of people wearing the same air force uniform, it lacked the operational coherence and direction to truly be the fourth largest air force. During WW2, the RAAF excelled at generating and contributing small units to operations run by larger air forces. This approach persisted after the war. Australia’s air contributions to Korea, Malaya, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, and other conflicts comprised individual force elements operating in isolation from each other. Australia maintained national command of its air units and Australian airmen performed admirably in embedded or liaison roles, but the RAAF provided little operational leadership. There were of course exceptions to this rule. Australia led air operations in its region on multiple occasions, including the 1999 intervention in East Timor and the response to the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami. While valuable, these operations did not require the RAAF to lead a full spectrum of air operations or face the strain of sustained combat. In 2014, the Australian air task group (ATG) to combat ISIS in Syria and Iraq formed and deployed as an integrated package comprising eight F/A-18F Super Hornets, a KC-30A tanker transport, and an E-7A Wedgetail AEW&C aircraft. This was an impressive achievement and an improvement on past practice, but it should not obscure the reality that the package’s individual elements operated separately and under the direction of American operational commanders. While the ATG was well-led by first-rate individuals, their span of responsibility and influence over the campaign was limited. Moreover, the RAAF’s lack of formed expeditionary command and control elements made the work of these individuals more difficult and was perhaps the principal deficiency in the RAAF’s otherwise impressive force package. Two enduring characteristics of Australia’s geostrategic environment enabled this highly successful approach. Firstly, Australian air power maintained an enormous technical and tactical regional superiority. Circumstances in which Australian air power alone or in the lead would have to fight for control of the air or operate in contested areas were exceptionally unlikely. Secondly, the RAAF could reliably rely on larger air forces to lead coalition operations which might involve combat or genuine opposition. With these reassuring assumptions in place for one hundred years, the RAAF could comfortably overlook the need to build and maintain the capabilities necessary to lead and manage complex air operations. Indeed, these assumptions enabled it to refine its management and contribution of individual force elements to a fine art, including through the creation of and evolution of the FEG. But this focus on managing individual capabilities comes at a cost. The FEG structure means personnel can become very senior indeed without significant exposure to capabilities from other FEGs, much less the challenges of leading and managing all the elements necessary to generate and sustain air operations. Australia’s Five Eyes partner air forces maintain command echelons to do just this, in the form of wings in the USAF and RCAF, stations in the RAF, and bases in the RNZAF. Crucially, these are significant in-garrison command appointments at the group captain level and mean senior officers, and many other personnel, in these air forces have first-hand experience leading and applying all the elements necessary to sustain air operations, from aircraft and armaments to administration and amenities. In the RAAF, the first in-garrison opportunity to hold command of all elements needed to sustain air operations is found at the Air Commander Australia, a two-star position. These assumptions and their consequences are not valid for the RAAF’s second century. Firstly, Australia’s region is now home to some of the most capable and rapidly advancing air and space forces in the world. As partners or adversaries, these forces generate a different model of regional operations with which the RAAF must contend. The RAAF should not always expect to lead operations in the region but, as one of the most mature and experienced air forces in the region, it should aspire to play a key role in supporting others and building regional leadership capabilities. Secondly, Australia’s great and powerful friend has wearied of global leadership and declined in relative power. Even before the rise of the Trump Administration’s ‘America First’ policy, the Obama Administration’s ‘lead from behind’ approach during the 2012 operations in Libya compelled Britain, France, and NATO to lead with American support. The US’s limited role during the 1999 East Timor intervention was an early indication of this trend in Australia’s region. Add to this the strain that increasing US-China competition throughout the Indo-Pacific is placing on US forces, and the RAAF should anticipate that its traditional ‘big brothers’ will be looking to others to lead in Australia’s near-region. Consequently, the RAAF must build the capacity and capability to lead complex air – and now space – operations in its region, either in coalition or isolation. There are positive steps underway. The Air Warfare Centre’s establishment and focus on integration is important, and the restructure of 78WG as a tactical air wing focused on air-land integration is also a step in the right direction. These measures arose from sustained strategic direction since the launch of Plan Jericho in 2015 to better focus the RAAF on integrated capabilities and operations. The most recent RAAF strategy continues this trend. But the pace needs to accelerate, and more investment is required. Building operational leadership capabilities in the RAAF is not simply a matter of running training courses, episodic exercises, procuring equipment, or encouraging personnel to read more widely. It is the combination of these things as well as a significant shift in the service’s culture and focus and a recognition that operational leadership requires the generation and maintenance of command-and-control force elements, just like any other force element. For the RAAF, this requires development of the wing as the key tactical leadership echelon, just as it is in in Australia’s Five Eyes partners. Part of this culture shift is also a recognition that operational leadership is not a generalist skillset that comes with time and experience, nor one that resides in commanders alone. The skills needed to lead complex air operations, let alone multi-domain operations, are specialised, perishable, and collective. The aptitude for such skills is also likely to be found in workforces beyond those that have traditionally dominated command and leadership role in terms of rank, background, and seniority. In seeking to grow these leadership skills and capabilities, the RAAF should be cautious about approaches that seek efficiencies or to economise in other areas to free up resources – the hard-won strengths the RAAF has built up over the last century remain fundamentally important to its success. The deteriorating circumstances that drive the need for investment in operational leadership do not diminish the need for ongoing technical and tactical excellence. The answer to this challenge is and, not or. But as the RAAF looks to its second century, the imperative to build leadership capabilities is also an opportunity to craft a high-value niche in the Indo-Pacific air and space power community. At present, there is no Indo-Pacific equivalent to NATO’s Tactical Leadership Program or the Gulf Cooperation Council’s Air Warfare Centre. These initiatives focus on building the leadership, planning, and execution skills necessary at the wing level for integrated air operations. The RAAF should explore building an Indo-Pacific equivalent to train, develop, and exercise operational leadership capabilities within the Indo-Pacific air and space power community. The RAAF has the foundations for such a program such as major international exercises like Pitch Black, superb training schools, and large and increasingly well-equipped training ranges. These foundations are currently episodic or focused internally, but provide a firm base upon which the RAAF can build an enduring capability. An Indo-Pacific Air Warfare Centre in Australia would strengthen regional engagement and build operational leadership capacity among like-minded regional air forces. The initiative could be run in partnership with advanced air forces such as Singapore, Japan, and the US, with training and development opportunities open to all. Importantly, the RAAF leadership capabilities would reap a disproportionate return on investment as its personnel and systems routinely engaged with partners from across the region to practice and apply the art and science of leading air operations. The RAAF can no longer just contribute to operations its second century; it needs to lead. The comfortable assumptions of its first one hundred years are gone, driving an imperative for greater independent capacity. The RAAF’s first century leaves a fine foundation from which this imperative can become an opportunity for the RAAF to lead the development of a collective air and space power community that strengthens security for all in the next century. This piece was originally published in the Australian Defence Business Review on February 8, 2021.

In April 2019, we argued that ‘every staff paper, speech, and brief that remains buried in network folders represents a lost opportunity to inspire the intellect, stimulate the curiosity, and gain the insight of an increasingly engaged professional military community.’ Today’s post is an example of our attempt to address that problem. This article was written as an assignment by Michael Sleeman while he was a student at the United States Air Force School of Advanced Air and Space Studies in 2018/2019. In it, Sleeman discusses the need for military leaders to embrace and support a true grand strategic approach to addressing the United States’ strategic issues, even if that means sacrificing military budget in order to direct funds to other elements of national power. Grand strategy is the use of all instruments of national power to achieve long-term national influence. Grand strategy is a widely recognised term, but I posit that unless significant changes happen, the United States will never achieve a true grand strategy: one where the military is just one component of national influence. The current funding disparity between various government departments precludes a balanced approach. I propose that there is a straightforward change the US can make to enable the development of a true grand strategy. Acknowledging that – as Clausewitz said – simple things are sometimes the hardest, making the necessary changes requires innovation by military leaders beyond simply stating catchy slogans. While this article is about the funding disparity in the United States, it behoves Australia to ask tough questions about where we spend our money. Is it possible for Australia to have a true grand strategy? The main factor causing the ineffective mix of government instruments is the staggering disparity of funding between the United States State Department and the Department of Defense (DoD). This has not always been the case. DoD spending spiked during World War I and World War II, which is to be expected; yet unlike during the interwar period, DoD and State funding never reached parity post-World War II. The funding disparity worsens as the years’ progress. President Trump announced a 2019 fiscal year national security budget of $716 billion, of which $686 billion is allocated to the DoD. For the State Department budget, the president requested a budget of less than $40 billion, a decrease of approximately 30% from the 2018 budget. This significant funding disparity creates a warped view of what the United States can and should achieve in its foreign policy and leads to the militarisation of US grand strategy, rather than a considered use of all instruments to achieve a true grand strategy. The Beatles knew that money could not buy you love, but it sure can buy a lot of butter or bullets. Just not both. As military officers, how do we address this obvious, but rarely discussed issue? We are frequently told to innovate, take risks and be BOLD. A business card that a United States Air Force major general recently gave me even evidences this. It told me to ‘Take Risk.’ However, I am almost deaf to these words that senior leaders preach ad nauseum. I am not deaf to these terms because I disagree with them; I wholeheartedly agree with them, but I do not see any genuine attempt by the military leadership to address the overweight elephant in the room. While attending the US School of Advanced Air and Space Studies, I attended a two-day workshop run by a couple of well-regarded strategic thinkers at MGMWERX, in Montgomery, Alabama. In one exercise, we looked at ways to develop a strategy for the United States to guide its relationship with China. One presenter listed ten factors that the United States could consider in developing such a strategy. Looking at the list, it dawned on me that not a single factor pertained to the military. Not one. However, there we were, mid-level military officers trying to devise United States strategy. This is the elephant in the room. The military is not, and should not be, the overriding apparatus of national power. So why are we unwilling to state that the military only appears to be the solution because of its overwhelming preponderance of resources. Why are the senior military leaders not truly innovating and stating that funding should be redirected from the military to the other instruments of national power? What is a bolder statement than that? I am not suggesting we need military mavericks, as they tend not to achieve the desired long-term effects. However, if respected senior military leaders made the argument that funding needs to be more evenly distributed between all the apparatuses of national power, then change may well be possible. Such a bold statement by military leadership would also assist in overcoming ideological and distributive effects that hinder presidential decision making. General James Mattis made this exact point in 2013 when he testified that if the State Department is not funded appropriately, then he ultimately needs to buy more ammunition. If the military is asking for less bullets, then the State can afford to buy more butter. So, let us innovate. Let us be BOLD. It is only through the actions of senior military leadership that we can overcome the funding disparity and help make it possible for the Government to bolster the other instruments of national power. It would be beneficial for the United States to use other instruments of national power rather than relying on military power as the default national strategy. If the Government reduced the gap in spending between the military and other departments, then the elephant can lose some weight, and perhaps eventually leave the room. Over time, maybe the United States – and Australia – can develop a true non-militarised grand strategy. Wing Commander Sleeman is a pilot in the Royal Australian Air Force. He is a graduate of SAASS Class XXVIII. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not represent the views of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government.

"That’s not very joint” The quote came from a senior Air Force officer in response to a suggestion of mine. My suggestion was that Air Force elements on operations needed stronger air power identities if we wanted to tell the story of Australian air power better. No one suggests HMAS Perth or 7th Battalion Royal Australian Regiment handing over to 2nd Cavalry Regiment are not being “very joint” because they identify with their Service whilst on joint operations. But a look at the Air Task Group or the air elements on Operation ACCORDION tells a different story. This is but the latest example of Air Force elements’ Service identities being muffled on joint operations. The storied but Service-specific wing has become the anodyne task unit. At home, the Chief of Joint Operations’ principal airman has a title that makes him sound like a staff officer . If airmen want to meet the Chief’s challenge  to tell the story of Australian air power better, we must first be able to clearly identify “the air power element of every ADF operation.” The Air Force clearly recognises the importance of identity. In the past decade, successive Chiefs have taken steps to celebrate the Air Force’s heritage and build stronger Service identities, particularly amongst non-flying elements. Second World War Spitfire squadrons have been reformed to once again control the air, but this time as air traffic controllers. The famous No 460 Squadron – destroyed five times over during the Combined Bomber Offensive – again plays a key role in Air Force strike operations through its target intelligence mission. My experience as a member of a newly re-formed No 87 Squadron provided first-hand evidence of how important a unit’s history could be in establishing unit identity and cohesion. We hallowed Coomalie Creek as our spiritual home; we took pride in the unit’s achievements and that one of “our” Mosquitoes was displayed in the War Memorial. We built links to unit veterans and commemorated those on our unit’s roll of honour, resolving to build on their legacy. The story of our unit was vital in building it anew. But on operations, airmen seem to have to stifled their Air Force identity. Instead of air power-evoking flights, squadrons, and wings, our nomenclature has been task elements, task units, and task groups with a series of telephone numbers behind them. These task organisations are the doctrinally-correct but colourless labels for force elements that make up an ADF joint task force. HMAS Perth and Task Group 633.1 are both labels for the same unit, but one of them tells a much better story. Similarly, No 36 Squadron Detachment Iraq or 633 Air Lift Flight, or any number of alternatives would have been much more appealing – and intuitively related to air power – protagonists than Task Element 633.4.1.1 in the story of Australian C-130 operations in Iraq. Can I connect your call? Air Force elements in the Middle East as part of Joint Task Force 633 have gone through several nomenclature iterations since 2003. Separate task groups, an air component, then an air component coordination element, and now air mobility task group. Operation OKRA’s Air Task Group has continued this subdued approach to Air Force identity for the collective elements that together generate air power, embodied in this instance by F/A-18, E-7A, and KC-30A sorties. The collective is a task unit headed by a task unit headquarters. The only constant amongst these various labels has been a studious avoidance of the nomenclature that our major partner English-speaking air forces use to describe a formation of units that collectively generates air power: the Wing. Australian air power’s operational identity challenge is most apparent in the command and enabling elements that facilitate the collective coming together to generate, sustain, and conduct air power missions. Deployed elements drawn from formed units in Australia usually retain strong home-unit identities whilst on operations. But many Australian airmen deploy on operations as individual replacements or as part of a group cobbled together from disparate organisations for the duration of the deployment. For these airmen, there is no strong home identity to collectively take forward and their organisational identity on operations is all-too-often defined by its “otherness” compared with the formed units. Telling the story of the unglamorous but vital role played by mission planners in a wing headquarters is difficult enough without calling where they work a “TUHQ.” All the more so when your competition is fighter pilots from storied wartime squadrons. At a time when so much emphasis is placed on the importance of integrating Australia’s air power, we need to be able to better tell the story of all the pieces – individually and collectively – necessary to do just that. There are a few things we could do immediately to start character development for the story of contemporary Australian air power. Firstly, consign task organisations to the dustbin of doctrinal devotion and refer to individual air power elements on operations by their historic labels: flights and squadrons. Call the formations of units that collectively generate Australian air power on joint operations what they are: wings. Doing so would draw on history to reaffirm the collective’s central role in generating air power. Our sister Services, coalition partners, and the public at large will also stand a much better chance of intuitively recognising the “air power element of every ADF operation”. Secondly, make Director-General Air the commander of a re-formed No 9 or No 10 Operational Group. This group would serve as the Air Force’s operational group and the de facto air component of Joint Operations Command, formalising an existing arrangement but with a much clearer air power identity. This would also serve to better delineate between the Air Force’s operations and force generation responsibilities, much as the separation between Forces Command and the 1st Division does for the Army. The only argument against these steps is that they could be perceived as being “not very joint.” But wanting to see a robust air power identity on joint operations does not make one “not very joint”. Quite the contrary: joint operations are about leveraging the strengths of each domain to achieve common goals. They are founded upon exploiting and unifying domain expertise and identity, not suppressing them. The Air Force has taken positive steps in reinforcing Service identity and culture at home without diminishing the Service’s commitment to joint warfare. It needs to do the same on operations. If we want to tell the story of Australian air power on operations better – and we must – a crucial first step is being able to easily identify “the air power element of every ADF operation”. Squadron Leader Chris “Guiness” McInnes is an officer in the Royal Australian Air Force. He has served in the “other” bits of air operations repeatedly. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect those of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government.

Through this book review in support of our #FailureWins series, TCB editor Luke Webb explores Dr. Jason Fox’s book on How to Lead a Quest and how it can help Air Force build better language and mental concepts around failure. If Air Force truly wants to seek the edge, it needs to have an appetite for the right kind of failure – but this doesn’t mean tolerating every kind of failure, something that’s already in the blood of aviation professionals. Failure in the context of aviation sounds like blasphemy. The idea that ‘failure’ could be permitted in mission- & safety-critical contexts rightfully can be on the nose, and hearing how ‘failure is part of success’ (or some other digital philosophical epithet) can cause the boiling of AVTUR-blood. I’d contend that it’s the lack of nuance around the word failure that is so unhelpful. The cult-like sentiment around pursuing failure as a means to grasping success is popular in the tech-media scene. Here failure means you have to apologise to a group of vapid teens because of a change to an app’s feature. To extrapolate that implied meaning to the world of airpower seems insulting. In aviation, failure can mean a devastating conversation with the loved ones of colleagues and friends who were lost because of a split-second mistake. In the military, it can change the entire course of a campaign – even the moral imperative to fight. And yet, if Air Force is desirous of maintaining “the edge”, it must be on the forefront of trying new things. Of innovating. Of, at times, failing. But it’s not an easy gambit for an organisation that has matured (perhaps corporate-speak for atrophied?) in several aspects of its business. In the context of #FailureWins, I felt compelled to review one of my favourite books on the topic – How to Lead a Quest by Melbourne academic Dr. Jason Fox. It’s not an airpower piece, but I’ve found it one of the most accessible, implementable, and entertaining business books I’ve read that deals with untangling the realm of complexity faced by pioneering leaders. Fox offers it as a ‘handbook for pioneering executives’, and provides a series of practical actions, frameworks, and rituals to apply in a variety of workplace settings (including my favourite “Beacon Words”, where he gives an example of his word for the year being pirate). He also offers several concepts to help pioneering leaders in their work, particularly around ‘quest-augmented strategy’ - where corporate experimentation is central to organisational learning, which in turn drives intelligible work that’s future-focused. Another is around crafting experiments: since reading his work, I’ve recast my own language around innovation and new pursuits as ‘experiments’ as a way of removing cultural cringes to ‘innovation’ and ‘learning from failure’. His work is vast but efficient at unpacking the complicated, visceral pulses that so often trigger our grimace-face when we experience failure (especially in an organisational setting). Rather than approach the topic from a growth or benefits perspective, Fox looks at innovation from the lens of organisational atrophy and death - the inevitable consequence of group human endeavour of an organisation that fails to keep pace. Not just from a product or service perspective, but how organisations have a tendency to default to rote decision making slowly but surely. Where justifications and rationalisations based in past thinking become a quiet, but powerful corporate gospel. Innovation – grounded in a practice of crafted corporate experimentation – is vital for ensuring the core of an organisation doesn’t succumb to entropy. Fox has much to say about innovation, framed as pioneering leadership (hence the title How to lead a Quest). But perhaps some of the more exigent insights he offers are around failure. He has mixed views about it: “Another extreme has also crept into the vernacular – that of celebrating failure. It’s certainly preferable to the alternative, in which failure is shameful, but celebrating failure might be taking things a bit too far. The real thing to celebrate is learning.” The Layers of Fell In the context of leading a quest against organisational irrelevance, “one thing that is consistent” with this nonlinear new way of working is failure. But, in the same breath, he asserts that failure is a spectrum, and expresses a model which he refers to as the Nine Layers of Fell (“failure + Hell = Fell” … he is a bit of a wordsmith). The deeper layers are forms of failure that should not be celebrated; the mid-layers are forms that should be the focus of change, and the upper layers are matters that should be ‘celebrated’ (or, at least, learned from). They’re a spectrum of organisational failure modes that can emerge from undertaking the messy, experimental work of quest-augmented strategy; however, they’re also instructive to safety- and mission-critical organisations that need to differentiate between hazardous operational failures, and ‘just’ embarrassing corporate failures. Ninth layer – Corruption & deviance: This isn’t about deviance from SOPs; it’s the deliberate violation of values, and actions that put the whole organisation at risk for personal gain. Fox says this “demands immediate inquisition – into not just why and how an individual or team did this, but also why and how they were able to”. Eight layer – Apathy: Fox defines apathy as the non-participation in meaningful progress and where people simply go through ‘the default motions.’ It’s characterised by ‘not rocking the boat’ or ‘computer says no’ and is “perhaps the most insidious and common failure among enterprises”. Seventh layer – Pessimism and wilful ignorance: “Pessimism is where people prejudge something before collecting or reviewing the evidence”. Fox sees this form of failure as only slightly better than apathy, but also draws a distinction with scepticism where judgement is reserved until the evidence is reviewed. Scepticism is engaged in the process by “leveraging doubt effectively” through asking questions, but not blocking progress. Sixth layer – Distraction: In this form of failure, “people are busy doing the work…it’s just they’re focused on the wrong things”. Fox highlights that one of the causes of such failure can be performance measures that are skewed towards business-as-usual activities, rather than incorporating work designed to advance the organisation’s capability. Fox refers to this as the Delusion of Progress. Fifth layer – Process inadequacy: Where there is an active intent to pursue both BAU and meaningful work to adapt to the future, existing processes can be a letdown. It’s where people are frustrated with current systems and processes and can lead to using workarounds (itself another potential source of failure in some contexts). Fourth layer – Lack of ability: This is where Air Force mostly excels owing to its approach to training and education. However, it’s worth considering that “the world is changing fast, and we are required to learn faster than ever before”. Whilst a robust training program ensures BAU activities are catered for, how well is the whole learning ecosystem – training, education, integration of strategic intelligence and lessons learned (or just recorded?) into the intellectual life of the organisation - keeping up with new technology, new applications of these technologies, and the nature of the tactical and operational threat? It’s a challenge that’s found in several of AFSTRAT’s lines of effort. Third layer – Failed experiments: As Fox frames corporate innovation through the lens of experimentation, it follows that experimentation will lead to many failures. That’s the point of experiments – find what works (and why) and find what doesn’t (and why). But it’s not an open slather invitation to be sloppy; such experiments must be subject to analysis and feedback to pinpoint flawed methodologies or biases. It’s celebrating what’s learned from failures that’s crucial. Second layer – Considered quitting: Part of our cultural avoidance of failure is the sunk-cost fallacy of ‘quitting is never an option’. But sometimes it’s worth actually celebrating the ending of a particular endeavour when the evidence-base points to it being no longer relevant. Fox points out that it’s not “about stopping – it’s about letting go so that you can progress”. Placing cultural currency on the courage to invest resources into other meaningful pursuits is “something definitely worth celebrating”. First layer – A lack of perfectionism: This is perhaps one that will be most difficult to accept in an aviation world, at least on the surface. Operational excellence and adherence to detailed procedures are hallmarks of safety-critical professionals. However, as any safety system specialist will agree, mistakes will happen, and it’s the learning from errors and incidents that builds safety capability. And there is space for celebrating this level of failure in recognising and encouraging the learning from mistakes. A facet of the US space program that potentially saved years during the space race was Werner von Braun’s focus on encouraging the reporting of failure and mistakes. So what? In a nation where tall poppies are ripe for the cultural plucking, failure is like crack cocaine for talking heads and copy editors. This cripples our public sector organisations from taking already uncomfortable experimental steps towards a more relevant form. Air Force is subject to the same dynamics. But being able to unpack the variety of meanings that sit behind ‘failure’ can: Establish a class of leadership styles that can be recognised within the Air Force organisation as pioneering leaders – in addition to formulaic/operational executing leaders Empower Air Force’s pioneering leaders to make the case – with compelling language – to engage in systematic activity without a known outcome. E.g., an experiment. Enable Air Force as an organisation to build narratives that deflect criticism of failures because they’re engaged in experiments. Plan Jericho is a vehicle that uses narratives of exploration and development to carve-out experimental space. Potentially the next wave of this approach is Jericho-like constructs at the Group, Wing & Squadron levels – led by pioneering leaders. The more we discuss the many shades of failure, the more we can remove the cultural sting that sits behind the word. In an era of developments such as grey-zone aggressions, Air Force needs to build an appetite for the right kinds of failure – ultimately, to avoid the truly fatal failure forms. Luke Webb is a Melbourne-based aerospace engineer, casual academic & science communicator. He is the Chair of the Melbourne Branch of the Royal Aeronautical Society and one of the editors of The Central Blue.

Dr Robbin Laird, The Role of Maritime Autonomous Systems: Mission Thread Capabilities to Meet the Needs of Modern Warfare, 11 May 2023 Link to article (Defense.info) If you are looking at the potential role of maritime autonomous systems from the standpoint of traditional acquisition approaches, the legacy concept of platforms, and are not focused on the priority for software transient advantage in modern warfighting, then you will totally miss what the coming of maritime autonomous systems is all about. During my March-April 2023 visit to Australia, I had a chance to meet again with Commodore Darron Kavanagh, Director General Warfare Innovation, Royal Australian Navy Headquarters, to discuss maritime autonomous systems and their role going forward. As a nation facing major maritime challenges, there is probably no nation on earth that needs to get this right more than Australia. Threats tend to focus the mind and the efforts. Maritime autonomous systems don’t fit into the classic platform development mode or the sharp distinction between how particular platforms operate or perform and the various payloads they can carry. They are defined by the controlling software and the payloads they can deliver individually or as a wolfpack with the role of platforms subordinated to the effects they can deliver through their payloads. The software enables the payloads to be leveraged either individually, though more likely in combination as a wolfpack or a contributor to a combat cluster. We started our discussion by focusing on mission threads as a way to understand the role and contribution of maritime autonomous systems. What missions does a combat commander need to accomplish? And how can maritime autonomous systems contribute to a mission thread for that combat commander, within the context of combat clusters? As CDRE Kavanagh underscored: “One of the issues about how we’ve been looking at these systems is that we think in terms of using traditional approaches of capability realization with them. We are not creating a defense capability from scratch. These things exist, already, to a degree out in the commercial world, regardless of what defense does. AI built into robotic and autonomous systems are in the real world regardless of what the defence entities think or do. “And we have shown through various autonomous warrior exercises, that we can already make important contributions to mission threads which combat commanders need to build out now and even more so going forward.” And that is really the next point. The use of maritime autonomous systems is driven by evolving concepts of operations and the mission threads within those evolving CONOPS rather than by a platform-centric traditional model of acquisition. CDRE Kavanagh pointed out that traditional acquisition is primarily focused on platform replacement, and has difficulty in supporting evolving concepts of operations. This is how he put it: “We’re good at replacing platforms. That doesn’t actually require a detailed CONOPS when we are just replacing something. But we now need to examine on a regular basis what other options do we have? How could we do a mission in a different way which would require a different profile completely?” Put another way, combatant commanders can conduct mission rehearsals with their forces and can identify gaps to be closed. But the traditional acquisition approach is not optimized for closing such gaps at speed through the use of disruptive technologies. The deployment and development of autonomous systems are part of the response to the question of how gaps can be closed or narrowed rapidly and without expensive solution sets. In an interview I did earlier this year with a senior Naval commander, he identified the “gaps” problem. “Rehearsal of operations sheds light on our gaps. if you are rehearsing, you are writing mission orders down to the trigger puller, and the trigger puller will get these orders and go, I don’t know what you want me to do. Where do you want me to be? Who am I supposed to check in with? What do you want me to kill when I get there? What are my left and right limits? Do I have target engagement authority? “This then allows a better process of writing effective mission orders. so that we’re actually telling the joint force what we want them to do and who’s got the lead at a specific operational point. By such an approach, we are learning. We’re driving requirements from the people who are actually out there trying to execute the mission, as opposed to the war gamers who were sitting on the staff trying to figure out what the trigger pullers should do.” But how to close the gaps? As CDRE Kavanagh argued: “We need to deliver lethality at the speed of relevance. But if I go after the conventional solution, and I’m just replacing something, that’s actually not a good use of my very finite resources. We need to be answering the operational commanders request to fill a gap in capability, even if it is a 30% solution compared to no solution on offer from the traditional acquisition process.” These are not technologies looked at in terms of a traditional acquisition process which requires them to go through a long period of development to form a platform which can procured with a long-life use expectancy. CDRE Kavanagh simply pointed out that maritime autonomous systems are NOT technologies to be understood in this manner. “We build our platforms in a classical waterfall approach where you design, develop and build a platform over twenty years to make them excellent. But their ability to adapt quickly is very limited. This is where software intensive systems such as maritime autonomous systems are a useful complement to the conventional platforms. Maritime autonomous systems are built around software first approaches and we are able to do rapid readjustments of the code in a combat situation.” And the legacy acquisition approach is not well aligned with the evolution of warfare. Not only is the focus changing to what distributed combat clusters can combine to do in terms of combat effects but the payload impacts at a point of relevance is also becoming of increased salience to warfighting approaches. What is emerging clearly is a need to adapt more rapidly than what traditional platforms and their upgrade processes can do. Gaps will emerge and need to be closed not just in mission rehearsals but in the combat operations to be anticipated in the current and future combat situations. And to endure in conflict, it will be crucial as well to protect one’s core combat capital capabilities and platforms which calls for increased reliance on capabilities like maritime autonomous systems to take the brunt of attrition in combat situations as capital ships become mother ships rather than simply being the core assets doing the brunt of combat with whatever organic capabilities they have onboard. As CDRE Kavanagh noted: “The nuclear powered submarine is absolutely necessary for what we need to do for our defense in depth, but what we’re focused on with maritime autonomous systems completely complements it, because what I want to do is ensure that the dangerous stuff gets done by the autonomous forces as much as possible, because we can rebuild that capability much more rapidly. We can actually restore it whereas we can’t restore a nuclear powered submarine quickly if lost.” I wrote in a previous piece about the shift from the distributed force being shaped in the Pacific to an enduring force. The distributed force and its correlated capabilities are a near to mid-term answer to providing for enhanced Pacific defense and deterrence, but longer-term answers are needed for an enduring force. CDRE Kavanagh closed our discussion by emphasizing the crucial need for Australia to have an ability to stay in the fight in case of conflict in the Pacific. He argued that having their own abilities to innovate in autonomous systems areas was part of such a desired capability. “Resilience in a combat situation is an ability to be able to experiment and adjust on the fly. To have an enduring force that can operate until statecraft can shape an end state, the warriors and their support community must adjust the combat force rapidly to the real-world combat conditions. By shaping a deployment and ongoing development process in the maritime autonomous systems area, we are contributing to such a combat capability.“ Featured Photo: Director General Warfare Innovation, Royal Australian Navy, Commodore Darron Kavanagh inspects the ‘Dive-LD’ autonomous underwater vehicle. Credit: Australian Department of Defence