US allies must band together in weapons development

Let’s assume, as prudence demands we assume, that the United States will not at any predictable time go back to being its old, reliable self. This means its allies must be prepared indefinitely to lean on it far less than they have.

They will have to lean on each other, and one of the most difficult areas for doing that will be weapons acquisitions, where the US has long been the main supplier of systems that use the most difficult technology.

An unwritten clause in the US’s alliances has been that Washington’s big spending included the development and mass procurement of big-ticket defence items that could then be exported, so foreign defence budgets helped employ US workers. Indeed, in many market segments, including combat aircraft, the most lucrative segment of all, the past 70 years has been a story of allies trying to resist the formation of a US monopoly.

Reversing that course may be hard, but it won’t be impossible. The democracies of Europe, North America and the Pacific together have money, national resources and human capital. They have competitive defence industries, and in some sectors (such as surface warships combatants and land vehicles) they clearly outperform the US.

The problem is not resources but making the best use of them. There was no need for the US to exercise divide-and-rule in the times before Donald Trump’s second presidency: US allies divided themselves. They still do, as Franco-German squabbles over the share of work and the technical leadership in their Future Combat Air System program show.

That’s not sustainable: military development and production in a world without a reliable US cannot be a pot-luck meal where everyone turns up with a casserole, two hot dogs, a brownie and a shrimp. Specialisation will be needed, and each country, while attending to its own specialties, will have to rely on those of others.

The leaders in a non-US world: British aircraft engines, largely French space launch, Franco-German and British-Italian rotorcraft, German and Finnish armoured vehicles, Swedish airborne early warning and electronic warfare, South Korean and Japanese warships.

Stop screaming in the back, please. I’m not advocating for a global defence acquisition agency, the sort of thing that Europeans see as another vast jobs program and trebles-all-round for the Belgian economy. What is needed is a set of rules and protocols that enable development of a new tech-defence web.

There are several factors, within defence and peripheral to it, that should make it possible to expand international cooperation by incentive instead of bureaucratic fiat.

Urgency is the biggest of those factors. Once it was clear that World War II was a serious issue, Britain’s aircraft industry—fragmented, conniving and thinking of itself as aristocratic—was willing to be run by the right-wing Canadian upstart Lord Beaverbrook and the far-left Stafford Cripps.

Next, change is easier in a growing business, and there is a lot of growth to be had if the US’s export customers take their business to each other.

There are many unknowns in defence technology, but there is broad agreement that cheap autonomy and affordable zero-miss-distance guidance, based on commercial hardware, will be important for a wide range of weapons. These run from battlefield drones to smallish cruise missiles that weigh under a ton and cost much less than today’s $1 million plus. Warships are changing radically to become crewless or have crew numbers in double, not triple, digits. A newly expanded defence industry can focus on such new concepts.

The same goes for manufacturing industry. Materials and processes designed for automation, repetition and high quality are very applicable to unmanned systems and advanced munitions because production lines can be set up with minimal staff and surged to high rate in a crisis. Anduril is developing this in the US, but the technology to do it is commercial and available elsewhere.

One overlooked aspect of the Global Combat Air Program (GCAP) is its achievement bringing Japan into cooperation with Britain and Italy. A generation ago, it was enough of a challenge to design the Eurofighter Typhoon in four European countries with languages that were at least related and used a common alphabet. Yet, GCAP appears to have incorporated Japan with little drama. Auto-translate exists today, as does video conferencing, and engineers across the world can work together on the same digital mockup.

Another connected link is emerging between Italy and Turkey, the latter emerging as a hub for unmanned systems. Italy’s Leonardo and Turkey’s Baykar announced a joint venture in early March and talked about the latter’s Kizilelma unmanned combat aircraft as a potential element of GCAP. That came a few months after Baykar agreed to acquire the Italian company Piaggio Aerospace, which had been on the market since 2018: Piaggio’s Avanti commercial aircraft has been a slow seller, but the maritime patrol variant, with Baykar’s mission systems, is an attractive option for coast guard users.

A US-free industry can, should and will avoid the US’s stifling bureaucracy, which includes an export-control system that can involve three government departments.

And could the new alliance gain from a brain drain, particularly to Canada but also to Australia and Britain as some in the US industry are repelled by the administration’s social policies? Acquiring talent from the US might not be too hard.

One good starting point would be to develop an open set of common governance principles for international programs, alongside a study of what the best potential pilot programs could be, and the potential for a multi-national accelerator for new technology.

Should we call it ‘Project Beaverbrook’?

This is not the time for increasing Indonesia’s defence spending

Indonesia could do without an increase in military spending that the Ministry of Defence is proposing. The country has more pressing issues, including public welfare and human rights. Moreover, the transparency and accountability to justify such a plan is also questionable.

The ministry proposed in January that defence spending should rise gradually to 1.5 percent of GDP by some unstated target year. The ratio has been 0.6 to 0.7 percent of GDP for the past decade, lower than that of many Southeast Asian neighbours and Indo-Pacific countries, including Japan, South Korea and India.

An increase to 1.5 percent would be subject to parliamentary approval. It could indeed significantly enhance Indonesia’s defence capabilities—for example, by modernising equipment, lifting research and development and improving welfare for military personnel.

With the extra money, Indonesia could prioritise key acquisitions such as radars, early warning aircraft, fighter jets, submarines and rescue submarines. The government could give military personnel higher performance allowances—bonuses that apply across the state sector and constitute large portions of employees’ remuneration. The armed forces’ allowance of 70 percent is low. Increasing it would help address longstanding concerns about the adequacy of military compensation.

Furthermore, Indonesia must enhance its defence capabilities given its strategic position overseeing four choke points, and concerns over airspace intrusions and maritime law violations. The current unstable geopolitical situation, especially in the South China Sea and around Taiwan, demands stronger defence.

However, such an increase must be handled transparently, accountably and with meaningful public participation, especially with 306 trillion rupiah (roughly A$35 billion) in budget cuts in other sectors. Indonesia has the democratic tools for proper oversight, but in practice the government and parliament do not attend closely to how the armed forces spend their money.

Moreover, this is the wrong time economically for increasing defence spending. The country is close to deflation and the danger to economic growth that it would bring. Prabowo is meanwhile slashing budgets for essential government activities such as healthcare, elementary and higher education, public works and infrastructure projects. Those are better places to spend any extra money that could be allocated to defence.

It isn’t at all clear that more military funding would be well spent. Indonesia lacks clear direction in defence policy. The government has yet to present a concrete plan following the failure of the Minimum Essential Force program, which concluded in 2024 with only 65 percent of the target assessed as achieved. Prabowo’s replacement program is Optimum Essential Force, but no concrete details have been announced. The public is increasingly sceptical of the administration’s ability to define a coherent defence policy.

The Indonesian Defence White Paper is outdated, being last revised in 2015. The global and regional security environment has evolved dramatically, and neighbouring countries—such as Vietnam, Malaysia and Cambodia—have updated their defence policies in that time. Cambodia, for instance, released its National Defence Policy in 2022 and its first Defence Strategic Update at the end of 2024, outlining Cambodia’s priorities such as border security, international peacekeeping and long-term reforms for its armed forces. In contrast, Indonesia appears to be lagging in addressing evolving security threats.

Indonesians have even more reason to be sceptical of rises in the defence budget as controversial military policy initiatives spark concerns about potential threats to democracy and seem to impede advancement of security sector reforms and professionalisation of the military. These include deeper influence down to the level of villages, helping with what should be a purely civil program to provide free nutritious meals, and assigning high-ranking active military officers to civilian roles. Revisions to the law governing the armed forces have added the growing suspicion about the military’s increasing role in civilian governance.

Altogether, this does not look like a good time to plan for more than doubling the armed force’s share of the national economy.

As China’s AI industry grows, Australia must support its own

The growth of China’s AI industry gives it great influence over emerging technologies. That creates security risks for countries using those technologies. So, Australia must foster its own domestic AI industry to protect its interests.

To do that, Australia needs a coordinated national AI strategy grounded in long-term security, capability building and international alignment.

The Australian government’s decision in February to ban Chinese AI model DeepSeek from government devices showed growing concern about the influence of foreign technology. While framed as a cybersecurity decision, the ban points to a broader issue: Chinese-linked platforms are already present across Australia, in cloud services, academic partnerships and hardware supply chains. Banning tools after they’re embedded is too late. The question is how far these dependencies reach, and how to reduce them.

China’s lead in AI isn’t just due to planning and investment. It has also benefited from state-backed strategies that exploit gaps in international rules.

In early 2025, OpenAI accused DeepSeek of using its proprietary models without permission. Weeks later, a former Google engineer was indicted in the United States for stealing AI trade secrets to help launch a Chinese startup. A US House of Representatives Committee report logged 60 cases of Chinese-linked cyber espionage across 20 states. In 2023, Five Eyes intelligence leaders directly accused Beijing of sustained intellectual property theft campaigns targeting advanced technologies. And a recent CrowdStrike report documented a 150 percent surge in China-backed cyber espionage in 2024, with critical industries hit hardest.

Such methods help Chinese firms accelerate development and release advanced versions of tools first created elsewhere.

ASPI’s Tech Tracker shows the effect of these strategies. China leads Australia by a wide margin in research output and impact in such field as machine learning, natural language processing, AI hardware and integrated circuit design. These technologies form the foundation of modern AI systems and academic disciplines.

And the research gap is growing. China produces more AI research and receives more citations, allowing it to shape the global AI agenda. In contrast, Australia’s contribution is limited in advanced data analytics, adversarial AI and hardware acceleration. And Australia is dependent on imported ideas and models when it comes to natural language processing and machine learning.

China also outpaces Australia in talent acquisition. In every major AI domain, including natural language processing, integrated circuits and adversarial AI, China is a top destination for leading researchers. Australia struggles to recruit and retain high-end AI talent, which limits its ability to scale local innovation.

China’s tech giants are closely aligned with state goals. Following the strategy of military-civil fusion, Chinese commercial breakthroughs are routinely directed into national security or surveillance applications. That creates risk when their technologies are used third countries, through applications in transport, education, health and infrastructure.

Australia is accelerating domestic AI development but lacks a coordinated national strategy. The country remains heavily reliant on foreign-built systems and opaque partnerships that carry long-term strategic and economic costs. This embeds AI systems that Australia does not control into Australia’s critical infrastructure. The more dependent Australia is on these systems, the more it will struggle to disentangle itself in the future.

A coordinated national strategy should rest on four key pillars.

First, AI infrastructure should be treated as critical infrastructure. This includes not just hardware, but also training datasets, foundational models, software libraries and deployment environments. A government-led audit should trace where AI systems are sourced, who maintains them and what hidden dependencies exist, especially for public services, utilities and strategic industries. This baseline is essential for identifying risks and opportunities.

Second, Australia should invest in trusted alternatives and sovereign capabilities. Australia alone cannot build an entire AI stack—including data infrastructure, machine learning frameworks, models and applications—but it can co-develop secure technologies with trusted allies. It should use partnerships such as AUKUS and the Quad to explore open foundational models, ways to secure compute infrastructure, and the development of interoperable governance frameworks.

Third, Australia must manage research collaboration more carefully. Australian universities and labs are globally respected, but they are navigating a geopolitical landscape with little structured guidance. Building on 2019 guidelines to counter foreign interference in universities, the government should establish clearer rules around high-risk partnerships. For example, it could develop tools to assess institutional exposure and track dual-use research. Risk management should not be punitive but rather support researchers to make informed choices.

Fourth, Australia can lead on standard-setting in the Indo-Pacific. Many countries in the region also wonder how to harness AI while preserving autonomy, enhancing prosperity and minimising security risks. Australia can play a regional leadership role by promoting transparent development practices, fair data use and responsible AI deployment.

AI is shaping everything from diplomacy to defence. Australia cannot be dependent on foreign-built models. The question is whether Australia wants to shape those systems or be shaped by them.

Australia can learn from Britain on cyber governance

Australia needs to reevaluate its security priorities and establish a more dynamic regulatory framework for cybersecurity. To advance in this area, it can learn from Britain’s Cyber Security and Resilience Bill, which presents a compelling model for reforming our own cyber governance and standards.

Amid the increasing frequency and sophistication of cyber threats and geopolitical tensions, complacency is no longer an option. The risks of inaction are significant, potentially including economic turmoil, disruption of essential services and threats to national sovereignty.

Australia must transition away from a system of voluntary compliance and instead introduce enforceable regulations. Britain’s cyber bill imposes clear obligations on providers across critical sectors such as transport, energy, health, communications and even extends to digital service providers. In contrast, Australia still relies on sector-led initiatives and non-binding guidelines. As cyber attackers become increasingly adept, our legislative frameworks must evolve. Voluntary standards can no longer serve as a sufficient baseline for national security.

Furthermore, regulatory bodies in Australia lack the authority needed to enforce compliance. Britain’s framework empowers regulators to designate ‘critical suppliers’, demand incident reports and impose penalties for non-compliance. While Australia has established agencies such as the Australian Cyber Security Centre (ACSC) and the Cyber and Infrastructure Security Centre within Home Affairs, they lack the legal authority to conduct audits and enforce regulations across various sectors. Without robust oversight, regulations risk becoming mere formalities.

Australia also must abandon a one-size-fits-all regulatory approach. Different sectors face unique cyber threats; the needs of a hospital differ significantly from those of a logistics company or a power provider. Britain’s sector-specific regulations serve as a useful framework that Australia can adopt, tailoring obligations to reflect sector-specific operational realities and threat profiles.

Cyber regulation is an ongoing process, not a static checklist. A resilient cyber regime is built through continuous refinement guided by experience and international best practices. Australia must remain receptive to insights from global partners, including Britain, and incorporate effective international measures into its domestic model. A siloed approach will only hinder our progress. The Aspen Institute emphasises the importance of interoperable cybersecurity regulations in addressing the interconnected nature of cyber threats and fostering effective cross-border cooperation.

Recent statistics underscore the urgency of reform. In 2023–24, the ACSC reported more than 87,400 cybercrime incidents, averaging one report every six minutes. The financial impact is escalating, with individual self-reported losses averaging around $30,700—17 percent more than a year earlier. High-profile breaches, including the April incident affecting major superannuation funds and prior breaches at Optus and Medibank, highlight the scale of the threat and the ongoing vulnerability of our critical infrastructure.

The economic cost of cybercrime in Australia was estimated at up to $29 billion in 2020, encompassing business disruption, recovery, reputational damage and loss of consumer trust. Beyond the monetary implications, each breach erodes public confidence in government and national resilience.

Fortunately, Australia isn’t starting from scratch. The government has already made strides in enhancing its cyber defences. The 2024 Cyber Security Act introduced significant reforms, including mandatory ransomware reporting and minimum standards for smart devices. Amendments to the Security of Critical Infrastructure Act have expanded coverage and improved information-sharing mandates. Upcoming reforms to the Privacy Act aim to harmonise protections across sectors.

While these initiatives are necessary, they aren’t sufficient.

To strengthen our cyber resilience, Australia must connect these reforms into a cohesive, enforceable framework. Inspired by Britain’s approach, Australia should make six key moves. It should:

—Ensure legislative clarity and mandates by transitioning from recommendations to binding standards for essential service operators, with penalties for non-compliance;

—Introduce proactive regulatory power by equipping agencies such as the ACSC with the legal authority to investigate, audit and enforce compliance;

—Implement mandatory incident reporting including the swift reporting of significant cyber incidents through centralised platforms to enhance cross-sector threat sharing and response;

—Tailor rules to be sector-specific through customised guidelines for critical sectors including healthcare, energy, finance, transport and communications;

—View cyber resilience as a geopolitical priority by coordinating response and recovery plans, public preparedness campaigns and joint exercises with industry; and

—Develop a world-class cyber workforce, by treating the talent gap in cyber security as a strategic priority, funding education and creating attractive career paths.

Australia has taken important first steps. But the gap between policy ambition and practical implementation remains wide. The choices made now regarding our cybersecurity posture will have profound and lasting consequences for our national security, economic prosperity and social stability. Britain’s bill offers a roadmap and lessons that Australia should adopt and adapt with urgency and decisiveness.

Australian policy does need more Asia—more Southeast Asia

The international challenge confronting Australia today is unparalleled, at least since the 1940s. It requires what the late Brendan Sargeant, a defence analyst, called strategic imagination. We need more than shrewd economic manoeuvring and a tough assessment of defence capacity. Despite immediate election concerns, this is a time to question long-established assumptions about how Australia is positioned in the world. The Trump chaos, for all the damage it is bringing, could help Australia develop a fresh international identity.

Eight decades ago, between the fall of Singapore and the 1951 ANZUS Treaty, Australians could no longer put trust in the British Empire. Also, despite America’s large contribution to the Pacific War, there was no certainty of a United States security guarantee for the future. Analysts on both sides of politics increasingly began to think about a regional identity for a more independent—potentially more lonely—Australia.

The American alliance then allowed Australians to postpone such an accommodation with Asia. Now, in the words of Heather Smith, speaking at a 1 April security forum convened by Malcolm Turnbull, the post-Cold War order has collapsed ‘along with the norms and values that have underpinned the US-Australia relationship’.

How to imagine today a more autonomous Australia? Escalating British, European and Canadian engagement has obvious advantages—but this can reinforce Australia’s otherness in our region. Gareth Evans is right to insist we have ‘more Asia’—but what does that really entail? What is the roadmap for a deeper Asian engagement? Japan will continue to be important—but an explicit tightening of security relations with Japan delivers to China an unnecessarily provocative message. Australia’s Indian engagement will grow, but may present a similar problem.

The obvious strategy for achieving ‘more Asia’ is to capitalise on the relationship in which both sides of Australian politics have invested most heavily: Southeast Asia.

This is not to say that individual Southeast Asian countries or their regional organisation, the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), offer Australia the type of economic or military advantage once gained from the United States, although ASEAN as a grouping is our second-largest trading partner and has a GDP larger than India.

Nor can we be confident we share values with Southeast Asians—or that we will not sometimes have tension with one ASEAN country or another. There has also been frustration with ASEAN institutions when it comes to getting things done.

Our ASEAN priority, however, should not just focus on practical endeavours. In identifying ASEAN as the framework for achieving more Asia, what matters is that their institutions are inclusive—embracing all major players in the region. In an increasingly fluid environment, they offer an established arena for engaging not just with Southeast Asian countries but also with Japan, India and South Korea—as well as China. In these institutions—sometimes on the sidelines of meetings—Australia can build bilateral or mini-lateral endeavours without provoking one major power or another.

There are no serious downsides to this ASEAN emphasis. Washington, Beijing, Tokyo and others recognise Australia’s long commitment to this part of Asia. Our early support for Southeast Asian nationalist movements, our status as ASEAN’s first Dialogue Partner, our founding membership of ASEAN-led institutions (the ASEAN Regional Forum, the East Asia Summit, the ambitious Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership trade agreement, our vigorous practical cooperation across the region and our government’s declarations supporting ‘ASEAN centrality’—this record also gives Australia a claim to ASEAN’s continuing attention.

What we must avoid is claiming a leadership role. Australia’s long-term closeness to the United States sometimes enhanced our regional authority—and added to the prestige of our liberal democratic values. We need not back away from such values—and can expect they will still attract respect in parts of Asia. There is also reason for pride in the part Australia has played—certainly from the period of the founding of the United Nations—in developing an international rules system. The new era, however, will demand patient negotiation with non-liberal perspectives.

Although the liberal rules-based order faces resistance in Asia, there is nevertheless a strong commitment to rules and principles that facilitate international interaction. In a genuinely multipolar world, ASEAN’s consensus-seeking institutions provide an ideal forum for the type of give-and-take deliberation—negotiating across different normative frameworks—that will be a feature of rules development.

Inter-state relations more generally will require openness to ‘Asian values’. For instance, we tend to see Southeast Asians and others as hedging when they are unwilling to align with one power or another—and ignore the claim to a ‘principled pragmatism’ (as Malaysia often states). When Southeast Asian countries refuse to join an alliance, or to promote one ideological position rather than another—or when they accept the need to operate in a China-centred regional hierarchy—they are influenced by a heritage of foreign relations principles often different from Western traditions.

Working alongside our Asian neighbours—putting our point of view, of course, and acting where possible as a bridge to the United States and European states—Australians may also learn from Asian experience in handling major power ambitions.

Trump’s chaotic tariff policies provide an immediate opportunity. The whole region faces a common threat. With ASEAN leaders meeting to discuss a coordinated response, Singaporean Prime Minister Lawrence Wong speaks of strengthening ‘our network of partnership with like-minded countries’. ASEAN will reach out to China, Japan and South Korea—already indicating some willingness to set aside bitter rivalries between them. As a middle power with strong experience in trade negotiations (including through the Cairns Group)—and seven decades of intimate familiarity with America—Australia has much to contribute to Wong’s networking.

Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney recently called Canada ‘the most European of non-European countries’. Using the ASEAN framework to engage in tariffs, rules and other deliberations, could help build Australia’s post-America identity as the most Asian of non-Asian countries.

Bookshelf: How China sees things

Here’s a book that looks not in at China but out from China.

David Daokui Li’s China’s World View: Demystifying China to Prevent Global Conflict is a refreshing offering in that Li is very much a part of the Chinese system, despite his studies and appointments at US universities. He is a professor of economics at Tsinghua University and has been a member of the monetary policy committee of China’s central bank. And while he defends Chinese economic and political authoritarian governance, he offers many insights and dispels some myths.

China’s World View provides a detailed explanation of the Chinese approach to governance. What is perhaps the most striking is the array of consultative processes in this authoritarian system. Li himself is often called upon to advise the Chinese Communist Party and government on economic policy. Li writes of the paternalistic relationship between government and citizens, and how the party is sensitive to public opinion and possible discontent. Even authoritarian governments depend on popular support.

Li emphasises that ‘history is the key to understanding today’s China’, and he writes that ‘Chinese people are accustomed to having a long-term view and perceiving history in cycles’. Elite views are particularly shaped by the century of humiliation—from the Opium War in the early 1840s to the end of the Japanese invasion in 1945—and the tumultuous period under Mao Zedong’s leadership.

Li argues that history helps understand the Chinese government’s extraordinary stimulus in response to the global financial crisis, representing 7.5 percent of GDP in 2009 and 2010. Premier Wen Jiabao ‘did not wish to be recorded in history to be a slow-acting decision maker facing a brewing crisis’. Many Chinese economists have since attacked Wen for driving Chinese debt to very high levels. But Li is convinced that Wen made the right decision at the time. It is also true that authoritarian regimes see crises as existential threats and that Wen may have acted out of fears for regime security.

China practices ‘respect-centred’ diplomacy through which it seeks respect and moral recognition, according to Li. Chinese foreign policies, such as the Belt and Road Initiative, are not solely in pursuit of economic and other interests. Such Belt and Road partners as Sri Lanka may not agree. Li writes that US President Donald Trump’s biggest mistake was his lack of respect for the Chinese government. (China’s World View was published in March 2024, before Trump’s return to the White House.)

Li’s discussion of respect-centred diplomacy makes no mention of China’s infamous wolf-warrior diplomacy, nor China’s sometimes vindictive reactions when it feels that it is disrespected. There is no reference to China’s economic sanctions on Australia, in response to the call for an independent, international enquiry into the origins of Covid-19. Indeed, there is no mention of Australia in the book.

So what is China’s world view?

According to Li, there would be four main aspects to the mainstream perspective of China’s world view.

First, China believes in mutual respect between countries for political and ideological diversity, meaning the West should not interfere in Chinese politics. There is no mention of Chinese interference in other countries using grey zone and other activities.

Second, economic collaboration should be the cornerstone of international cooperation, since politics can be divisive.

Third is historical conservatism, meaning that China does not seek to overturn history, such as Russia’s seizure of Chinese lands during the 19th century. But accepting history does not limit Chinese claims to Taiwan, the Senkaku Islands and the South China Sea.

Fourth, China does not seek to expand its territory (!).

Li is convinced that the rise of China is beneficial for the whole world as it has increased opportunities for others and expanded the provision of global public goods. Moreover, friendly competition between China and the United States is fostering innovation and progress in many fields.

China’s World View is an important book. Not many Western readers will be convinced by Li’s defence of the Chinese socio-political system, but he does offer important insights. Moreover, with China being an unavoidable reality in international politics and economics, the West must understand Chinese thinking, and Li’s book goes some way in helping such understanding.

To counter anti-democratic propaganda, step up funding for ABC International

A global contest of ideas is underway, and democracy as an ideal is at stake. Democracies must respond by lifting support for public service media with an international footprint.

With the recent decision by the United States to freeze funding for the US Agency for Global Media, crippling media bodies including Voice of America and Radio Free Asia, the ABC’s international media activities across the Indo-Pacific are needed more than ever.

The ABC’s international media channels and the bespoke content we create, distribute and share with our media partners showcase an Australian society that is diverse, free and equal, with an independent media that holds power to account.

We show a positive alternative to the authoritarian systems that illiberal states promote through their own international media activities, and we reach out to people across our region with an Australian voice.

The US has also frozen foreign aid (which affects media houses and journalists across the globe) and, according to former secretary of state Hillary Clinton, is making cuts to its diplomatic service, with planned closures of representative offices.

The timing of this broad-based US withdrawal of soft power is of particular concern. Autocratic states are subjecting populations across the globe to an information assault. Russia, China and others are vigorously propagating the narrative that they are part of a battling Global South, fighting against a degenerate Western agenda that champions women’s rights and minority interests to the fundamental detriment of people everywhere.

Democracy, the narrative goes, does not lift people out of poverty, and human rights are merely a Western notion. In the absence of a strong US information presence around the world, that view has more opportunity to take hold.

Today authoritarian states take soft power as seriously as hard power and work together to sell, share or otherwise promote their content across social media, in multiple languages and across regions. China invests about US$7 billion to $10 billion per year in its media outlets, including Xinhua News Agency, China Global Television Network, China Radio International and the China Daily web portal. While funding is generally opaque, Russia’s international media operations are estimated to receive $9 billion a year.

With the US pulling back, Australia’s security in our region is challenged. We cannot afford to sit back and wait for a change in the US position; we need to project our soft power with all available tools.

In December 1939, when Australian prime minister Robert Menzies saw the threat posed by the regional propaganda of the Axis powers, he announced the formation of Radio Australia specifically because, he said, ‘the time has come to speak for ourselves’.

ABC International, of which Radio Australia is now a part, works through partnerships, creating programming for, with and about the peoples of the Indo-Pacific region. Its output covers many genres including news and current affairs, arts, sport, science and culture. This commitment to regional perspectives and voices is well recognised by our neighbours and seen as a sign of Australian sincerity and friendship. The ABC’s increasing reach across the Indo-Pacific is both strengthened by and lends strength to Australia’s diplomatic presence and foreign policy initiatives.

Through media capacity building projects funded by the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade (DFAT), and with funding under the Indo-Pacific Broadcasting Strategy, our ABC International Development team partners with media houses, press councils, media associations, journalists and content makers in countries across the Pacific, in East Timor and in Indonesia. These collaborations help our neighbours strengthen their own media, bolster their civil societies and thereby counter the influence of malign external actors.

There is much more that could be done, both to expand existing programs and to step up Australia’s media engagement with vulnerable and growing economies, and large populations in our region including Indonesia, Vietnam and India.

Funding for ABC International broadcast and digital activities, excluding DFAT grants for media capacity building activities but including additional funding from the government as part of the Indo-Pacific Broadcasting Strategy, currently sits at around $20 million per year.

This is a modest investment when compared to the funds being deployed by China, Russia and others in promoting autocracy and their world views. Further spending by the government in our media outreach to the region would be well justified, especially when compared with hard power investment, and it can be swiftly scaled up.

We are defending and promoting free speech, reliable information, independent media and citizenship. For Australia, it means ensuring that our neighbours understand us and value our friendship. And ultimately it enhances the security of our nation.

How to spot AI influence in Australia’s election campaign

Be on guard for AI-powered messaging and disinformation in the campaign for Australia’s 3 May election.

And be aware that parties can use AI to sharpen their campaigning, zeroing in on issues that the technology tells them will attract your vote.

In 2025, there are still ways to detect AI-generated content. Voters can use this knowledge. So can the authorities trying to manage a proper election campaign. The parties can, too, as they try to police each other. In the digital age, we must be vigilant against various tactics that are strengthened or driven by AI and aim to manipulate and deceive.

Some tactics are already heavily associated with AI. Deepfakes—images or videos that use hyper-realistic fabricated visuals to deceive—are a particularly concerning example. Automated engagement is another example, involving AI-driven bots and algorithms to amplify likes, shares and comments to create the illusion of widespread support.

But political actors are now using AI to improve tried-and-tested influence tactics. These methods include:

—Sponsored posts that mimic authentic content, such as news, to subtly promote a product, service or agenda without clear disclosure, potentially influencing opinions;

—Clickbait headlines that are crafted to grab attention and drive clicks, often exaggerating claims or omitting key context to lure readers;

—Fake endorsements providing false credibility, authenticity or authority through fabricated testimonials or endorsements;

—Selective presentation of facts, skewing narratives by focusing on specific data points that support one perspective while omitting contradictory evidence; and

—Emotionally charged content aimed at provoking strong reactions, clouding judgment and influencing impulsive decisions.

Deepfakes can be identified by inconsistencies in lighting, unnatural facial movements or mismatched audio and lip-syncing. Tools such as reverse image search or AI detection software can help verify authenticity. Automated engagement typically involves accounts that have generic usernames, minimal personal information, and display repetitive posting patterns. These are strong indicators that an account may be an AI-driven bot.

Sponsored posts can be checked for disclaimer labels such as ‘sponsored’ or ‘ad’. Users should be cautious of posts that seem overly polished or perfectly tailored to their interests.

Clickbait headlines, if they seem too outrageous or emotionally charged, should be read critically to verify their claims. Cross-checking with reputable sources can help users to spot inaccuracies. As well as this, one-sided arguments and missing context are both strong indicators of a selective presentation of facts. Consulting multiple sources can help build balanced view of the issue.

Fake endorsements can be verified by checking the official channels of the purported endorser. Inconsistencies in language or tone between the channels and the post may indicate fabrication.

For parties, AI is offering transformative opportunities for campaigning. Data-driven targeting can help to more effectively analyse voter demographics, preferences, and behaviours. This allows parties to craft highly targeted messages, ensuring campaigns reach the right audience with the right message.

Predictive analytics forecast voter turnout and behaviour, helping campaigns focus efforts on swing regions or undecided voters. For campaigns aiming to narrow their focus, AI can help to craft personalised communication. This content is tailored to individual voters, making interactions feel more personal and engaging.

AI can also be used to monitor social media and public sentiment, providing real-time feedback. These instant insights into voter reactions allows campaigns to adapt their strategies on the fly. Beyond analytics and outreach, AI programs can be developed to optimise campaign budgets by identifying the most impactful channels and strategies, reducing waste and ensuring effective resource allocation.

Finally, while it can be used to mislead, automated engagement has ethical applications. Through chatbots and virtual assistants powered by AI, parties can handle voter queries, provide information and streamline processes such as voter registration.

AI is reshaping political campaigning, offering unprecedented opportunities and challenges. While it sharpens strategies and enhances efficiency, it also necessitates vigilance to ensure ethical use and protect against manipulation. By staying informed and critical, individuals can navigate this evolving landscape with confidence.

The gas plan that’s sailing Australia into strategic peril

Australia’s east coast is facing a gas crisis, as the country exports most of the gas it produces. Although it’s a major producer, Australia faces a risk of domestic liquefied natural gas (LNG) supply shortfalls as soon as 2028.

Domestic price caps, intended to keep residential energy costs down, makes exporting gas more profitable. So importing gas, and therefore building LNG import terminals, appears to be the policy of choice for the Victorian government. However, relying on imported LNG will create a vulnerability in energy security.

Instead, Australia should be developing resilience. We should prioritise new domestic projects, such as the Northern Territory’s Beetaloo Basin, to increase domestic supply and improve our energy resilience. Distribution infrastructure would be needed.

Import terminal projects, such as the recently constructed Squadron Energy’s Port Kembla terminal, and Viva Energy’s Geelong proposal, are pitched as fast, efficient, market-driven solutions. The essential logic: if we export too much, we can simply buy it back on the global market.

It’s a traditional market solution that does not account for strategic risk and the potentially higher prices of imported gas. While commercially convenient, it assumes ongoing access to the international market.

Importing LNG ignores lessons we should be learning from Australia’s liquid fuel supply chain failures. Australia imports around 90 percent of its refined fuels. Nearly all local refineries have shut. We rely on complex, just-in-time maritime supply chains for the fuel that powers our economy and sustains our military.

The Department of Defence and national security experts have long warned that international maritime supply chains are vulnerable to disruptions—whether due to conflict, coercion or climate. Defence continues to scramble to patch our vulnerability with stockpiles and contingency planning.

Yet our gas policy seems intent on replicating these vulnerabilities. We are creating dependency on overseas production and on maritime transport. LNG tankers, and the floating storage regasification units that they feed, rely on uninterrupted access to global trade routes. The same routes that are subject to increasing contestation.

Gas is a strategic resource as well as a commercial product, with applications across commercial, industrial and residential sectors. It is particularly important for Australia’s mining and manufacturing sector. In the event of major conflict in the Indo-Pacific, Australia’s maritime trade will be directly threatened. It will need to defend itself and keep the economy running, and likely increase domestic manufacturing capacity as well. Gas will be an important part of this.

The government is committed to gas as a long-term source of energy, and there is currently no viable clean alternative to replace its industrial applications. We need similar commitment to expanding overall gas supply and production.

The federal resources minister, as a last resort amid shortfall, can redirect LNG exports back into Australia. But such an interventionalist practice would likely harm foreign investor confidence and damage important bilateral relationships.

Tapping available domestic resources is a better option. Australia has ample gas reserves in the Northern Territory, notably the Beetaloo Basin. But we lack the infrastructure to transport that gas where it is needed. A new pipeline connecting the basin to the east coast would be a nation-building project. It would also build resilience by creating domestic supply for a strategic resource.

Such projects will face such challenges as timeframes, costs and environmental risks. Each must be considered and carefully investigated. But failing to secure resilient domestic energy supply has its own costs and risks. Dependency on imported gas makes us vulnerable to global markets, international maritime transport and foreign actors. All while we have large domestic reserves.

Importing LNG will unnecessarily outsource control over a crucial economic input. Building overland pipeline infrastructure to access domestic reserves will develop self-reliance and retain Australian ownership over a strategic resource.

The Australian Competition and Consumer Commission has warned that while imports may be a viable short-term option with lower up-front infrastructure costs, they alone will not guarantee price stability or energy security. The Defence Strategic Review has called for whole-of-nation approaches to resilience. Gas is a test case.

We need to consider strategic risk in our energy planning. Short-term price signals cannot outweigh long-term sovereign capabilities and strategic interest. Nor can national security and energy policy remain separate.

We must act right now, as energy policy is at the fore of national political debate. We should fast-track the development of reserves such as the Beetaloo Basin and prioritise projects that underpin energy resilience and future prosperity. We should treat gas like the strategic asset it is and commit to pipeline infrastructure that connects our nation, not just our markets.

It’s (past) time to get serious about funding Australia’s defence and security

In the week of Australia’s 3 May election, ASPI will release Agenda for Change 2025: preparedness and resilience in an uncertain world, a report promoting public debate and understanding on issues of strategic importance to Australia. This is an article from the report.

The National Defence Strategy (NDS), released in April 2024, gave urgent warning that Australia’s strategic circumstances were rapidly deteriorating. It noted that the 2023 Defence Strategic Review (DSR) had warned that ‘Australia faced its most challenging strategic environment since the Second World War’, and that events had worsened since the DSR’s release only 12 months before.

In the 12 months since the NDS hit the streets, the geostrategic environment—and the strategic risks that Australia faces—have not just continued that trajectory, but have exponentially deteriorated, to the point that Australia now faces a global and regional security environment that bears little relationship to the foundational assumptions that the NDS is based on: a rules-based global order and an open, stable and prosperous Indo-Pacific.

China’s growing assertiveness, malicious cyber targeting of political and military systems and civilian ICT networks  and adversarial mercantilism  have ratcheted up to new levels, demonstrated most vividly by the recent circumnavigation of Australia by PLA Navy Task Group 107  and the no-notice live-fire drills conducted in the Tasman Sea. Beijing has warned that more such visits will occur,  and Australian naval experts argue that the Royal Australian Navy is ill-equipped for such an eventuality, with only ‘16 battle-force vessels—its smallest and oldest in decades’.

Russia’s war on Ukraine continues to eat away at the longstanding verities of the international security framework that has underpinned global stability and security in the post–World War II environment. Russia’s continued flouting of the Geneva Conventions,  attacking critical infrastructure targets in Ukraine,  including nuclear energy plants,  kidnapping and forcing of Russian citizenship upon Ukrainian citizens,  threats of nuclear war  and increasing use of paid or politically motivated agents to undertake sabotage attacks  throughout Europe have resulted in an increasing realisation that European security architecture and military capability spending are no longer appropriate and that a more general war in Europe, and potentially globally, is becoming more likely.  Prime Minister Albanese has recently ‘opened the door to sending Australian troops to Ukraine’, but military experts suggest that ‘the current operational capability of the defence forces is looking pretty thin.’

And perhaps most consequentially, the new Trump administration has flagged a more selective approach towards traditional alliance relationships, demanding of its allies that they align with US policy and intents and invest in much higher levels of defence spending  in order to justify continued US engagement and support. Absent such demonstrations, it’s becoming clear that a stultifying effect will encompass the relationship.  In speaking of Australia, Elbridge Colby, the President’s nominee for Under Secretary of Defense for Policy, declared that ‘The main concern the United States should press with Australia, consistent with the President’s approach, is higher defense spending. Australia is currently well below the 3% level advocated for NATO by NATO Secretary General Rutte, and Canberra faces a far more powerful challenge in China.’

And as Mike Burgess AM, Director-General of the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, noted in his 2025 threat assessment:

Australia has entered a period of strategic surprise and security fragility. Over the next five years, a complex, challenging and changing security environment will become more dynamic, more diverse and more degraded. Many of the foundations that have underpinned Australia’s security, prosperity and democracy are being tested: social cohesion is eroding, trust in institutions is declining, intolerance is growing, even truth itself is being undermined by conspiracy, mis- and disinformation … Australia is facing multifaceted, merging, intersecting, concurrent and cascading threats. Major geopolitical, economic, social and security challenges of the 1930s, 70s and 90s have converged.

In the DSR, Sir Angus Houston AK AFC and Stephen Smith highlighted that ‘Defence planning is about managing strategic risk. Defence spending must be a reflection of the strategic circumstances our nation faces.’  They recommended that:

Defence funding should be increased to meet our strategic circumstances. Lower-priority projects and programs should be stopped or suspended to free essential resources which can be allocated to projects and programs that align with the priorities in the Review. Funding should be released through the rebuild and reprioritisation of the Integrated Investment Program (IIP) and reinvested into priority Defence projects, programs and activities consistent with the Review.

Against the complex,  interconnected  and existential  threat environment Australia now faces, the next government must seriously consider whether the funding commitments, set out in the NDS and the Defence Portfolio Budget Statements meet the threshold test of the DSR that spending reflect the strategic circumstances Australia now faces. And, noting that the NDS quite clearly states that Australia no longer enjoys the benefit of a 10-year window of strategic warning time for conflict, and that the ADF is not fully fit for purpose, whether we have the appropriate balance between investing in the future (with initial operating capabilities for many of the current IIP projects coming due in the 2030s through 2050s) or preparing for the present (investing in the readiness and sustainability of current units and platforms, and undertaking rapid acquisition of improvements to the force-in-being).

In ASPI’s The cost of Defence: ASPI defence budget brief 2024–2025, we suggested that the answer to those two fundamental questions was ‘No’. Justin Bassi, ASPI’s Executive Director, categorically stated that:

Australia needs to spend more on defence—and it needs to do so immediately. The strategic imperative has been firmly established in the government’s own major defence documents. The Albanese government and the Coalition opposition agree that we are in the gravest geopolitical period in generations, and this is only going to intensify … the rhetorical urgency is not being matched by action in the form of defence investment … This year’s budget priorities are not directed towards strengthening the Australian Defence Force’s ability to fight in the next decade.

In the 2024–25 Budget, the government noted that Defence funding as a proportion of GDP would reach 2.3% by 2033–34.  The majority of that funding is backloaded to the period beyond the forward estimates (out to 2027–28). In essence, Defence is receiving no additional funding for the next three years, which, as The cost of Defence noted, is a holding pattern that leaves us critically exposed to events in the near term and results in preparedness and readiness levels well below any real ability to hold an adversary at risk for a meaningful period.  The RAN has mothballed major and minor combatants to meet urgent personnel and funding challenges in other parts of the fleet, including the two Supply-class fleet replenishment oilers being out of service for an extended period (the need for a supply ship was clearly demonstrated by the PLA Navy’s recent circumnavigation, which couldn’t be followed continuously by the RAN). Meanwhile, the Australian Army is downsizing its armoured combat vehicle aspirations, and RAAF flying hours have contracted.

Raising Defence spending to at least 3% of GDP is a strategic necessity.  Doing so will help to assuage US concerns regarding our continued commitment to the alliance and help meet the Trump administration’s priorities, as the previous Chief of the Defence Force and DSR author, Sir Angus Houston AK AFC, stated, ‘[President Trump] might say increase our GDP defence spend to 3.0 per cent, but I don’t think that is a bad thing.’  More importantly, it is necessary for Australian security to deliver the necessary cash injection and funding certainty for Defence (and defence industry) to focus on the preparedness of the force-in-being, as the previous Secretary of Defence, Dennis Richardson AC, noted: ‘we must raise to 3 per cent [of GDP defence spending] to do this, because the only other way to do this is to cannibalise our other Australian Defence Force capabilities.’

The NDS states that the new strategy of denial at the heart of Australia’s national defence focuses on ‘deterring a potential adversary from taking actions that would be inimical to Australia’s interests and regional stability’.  In the current geostrategic environment, no potential adversary is going to be deterred by a paper ADF that won’t exist until well into the 2040s and 2050s. Moreover, no potential adversary will be deterred by a ‘business hours’ ADF that does not maintain credible capability for 24/7 defence of its own territory and exclusive economic zones, including in the Southern Ocean and Antarctica. A substantial investment in the preparedness—readiness and sustainability—of the ADF is mandatory if we intend to deter the actions of aggressive nations, which can rehearse their kinetic and non-kinetic offences in Australia’s own backyard and in our ICT networks. The immediate security of Australia and the safety of our citizens, including those travelling in civilian airliners across the Tasman or into Asia, necessitate that we can undertake real-time surveillance and reconnaissance and, if necessary, active, defensive and offensive counterattack measures.

Moreover, we must have not just the ability to ‘change a potential adversary’s risk assessment and therefore decision-making calculus’  by imposing cost on that adversary, but also the ability to absorb the costs of successful adversary actions aimed at Australia, whether they be economic, psychological, political or military. National preparedness—a strategic and systematic process to plan, coordinate and integrate resources and efforts across all sectors of government, the economy and society to ensure that the nation is ready to manage potential disasters, emergencies or national-security threats—does not yet exist in Australia. While the NDS makes a strong argument for the need for ‘a coordinated, whole-of-government and whole-of-nation approach [that] harnesses all arms of Australia’s national power to establish a holistic, integrated and focused approach to protect our security and advance our interests’,  the Budget doesn’t allocate any resources to make Australia’s national preparedness and resilience real.

It’s long been axiomatic in Defence rhetoric, but not in Defence’s reality, that Defence must ‘structure for war and adapt for peace’.  A decade ago, David Peever and his First Principles Review team flagged that Defence was not fit for purpose and proposed an ambitious agenda to reform Defence’s decision-making and processes to deliver on the outcomes required of it.  All of the 76 recommendations of the review were ticked off by Defence, and yet, a decade later, the DSR again found that Defence was not fit for purpose. The NDS devotes a chapter to the ‘reform agenda’,  and yet strategic and acquisition reform still eludes Defence. If Defence’s spending does rise to 3% of GDP, it will be essential that we have a Defence Department that’s able to spend that money efficiently and create substantially more combat power per dollar invested than the current organisation can deliver. Recent Senate Estimates testimony,  recruitment woes  and acquisition challenges  highlight that there’s much work still to be done to structure Defence for the uncertainties of our present, let alone the potential wars of our future.

We recommend to the next government that it undertakes four immediate actions following the next federal election.

—In the 2025–26 Budget, commit to increased funding of the defence budget to bring Australian defence funding to 3% of GDP by no later than 2026–27 and sustain that level over the next decade.

—Direct Defence to review the planned update to the NDS and the IIP, scheduled for release in 2026, with the aim of prioritising the readiness and sustainability of the current force-in-being, necessary for the 24/7 defence of the Australian theatre and our region.

—In the 2025–26 Budget, commit to funding national preparedness and national resilience measures across government, the economy and society that will ensure Australia is ready to manage potential national-security crises.

—Deliver, within three months of the election, with full implementation over the following 12 months, a public reform plan, as laid out in the DSR, to streamline procurement processes, enhance project management, reduce redundant spending and strengthen domestic defence manufacturing.