Diplomacy first: Australia’s diplomatic push in a contested Indo-Pacific

The return of Donald Trump could demote diplomacy as he pursues hard power and economic statecraft. Diplomacy may be more about damage control than prioritising the long game and the art of exercising constructive leadership.

Trump has already fixated on the ideas of buying Greenland and retaking the Panama Canal and is musing that Canada should join the United States as the 51st state. This reflects his style of using coercive diplomacy with maximalist positions to manipulate others’ cost-benefit calculus in his favour. Trump can also rally strong domestic support, showcasing his resolve to punish those he believes are responsible for exploiting US interests and generosity.

Under Trump, the US may demand more from its allies than its rivals, so those allies will need to invest in skilful diplomacy. This ought to be good news for Australia, given its investments in advancing its hard and soft power.

Australia’s foreign policy strategy addresses its fears, advances trust and builds cooperation in the Indo-Pacific. It combines use of hard and soft power to advance a whole-of-nation strategy (including AUKUS and lessening economic dependence on China) and meaningful diplomatic outreach where its goal is to be the partner of choice.

This approach reflects the character of its diplomatic footing that recognises the value of establishing equal partnerships. It means Australia can play an effective leadership role in the Indo-Pacific as others are nervous about a confrontational White House. As the new administration settles in, Australian foreign policy can be a tool to reassure an array of actors Canberra has developed close relations with to show how to better deal with Trump’s America First policy.

Australia’s relationship with the US places it in an enviable position, considering Trump’s relations with some other allies. As Canberra invests more in its relationship with Washington, its regional relations should not fall behind.

Australia’s alliance with the US has helped enhance the Australia-Japan relationship, as shown by the Australia-Japan-US defence ministers’ summit in November last year. Australia and Japan are both Indo-Pacific maritime nations and share concerns about China. They can use their network of strong regional partnerships to shape the regional order in at least three ways.

First, they can increase naval deployments to strengthen maritime cooperation, particularly with the Pacific island countries to counter China’s increasing presence. For example, a Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force deployment in 2024 visited more than a dozen countries, including the Philippines, India, Papua New Guinea, Tonga, Marshall Islands, Fiji and Palau.

Among them, Palau and the Marshall Islands recognise Taipei instead of Beijing. Beijing may find it easier to corner Taiwan if its last remaining Pacific allies recognise Beijing, which would also enable the Chinese navy to broaden its strategic presence in key parts of the Pacific. As tensions rise, it would be tempting to view Australian and Japanese naval deployments in a security-centric manner. But the missions have dual military and diplomatic purposes as they caution the Chinese navy and reassure their Pacific partners of their freedom to navigate.

Second, Australia and Japan should engage the Pacific island countries on their own terms, given their distinct priorities. Despite the geopolitical competition between the ruling power and the rising one, Pacific partners have their own interests and reject the securitisation of their maritime domain. In fact, Australia’s longstanding engagement with the Pacific through Pacific-led regional organisations, including the Pacific Islands Forum, allows key policy areas to be covered without being swept under the security rug. The Pacific’s interests are in strengthening climate and disaster resilience, increasing economic prosperity and ensuring sustainable resource management, not geopolitical contests.

Third, Australia can learn from Japan’s experiences of dealing with three threatening powers at its doorstep—Russia, North Korea and China. All have intensified their campaign to throw Tokyo off balance. Australia needs to understand how Japan allocates its naval capabilities to control key maritime routes and areas. This can offer insights for its strategy of denial as well as its economic and diplomatic approaches to manage sensitive relations in a complex region.

Trump will likely demand that US allies do more, spend more and take greater risks, particularly in the military domain. AUKUS and military modernisation are essential components of Canberra’s national security strategy. But diplomacy must be at the centre of efforts to work with regional partners to maintain Australia’s status as a partner of choice.

Social media as it should be

Mathematician Cathy O’Neil once said that an algorithm is nothing more than someone’s opinion embedded in code. When we speak of the algorithms that power Facebook, X, TikTok, YouTube or Google Search, we are really talking about choices made by their owners about what information we, as users, should see. In these cases, algorithm is just a fancy name for an editorial line. Each outlet has a process of sourcing, filtering and ranking information that is structurally identical to the editorial work carried out in media—except that it is largely automated.

This automated editorial process, far more than its analogue counterpart, is concentrated in the hands of billionaires and monopolies. Moreover, it has contributed to a well-documented list of social ills, including large-scale disinformation, political polarisation and extremism, negative mental-health impacts and the defunding of journalism. Worse, social-media moguls are now doubling down, seizing the opportunity of a regulation-free operating environment under Donald Trump to roll back content-moderation programs.

But regulation alone is not enough, as Europe has discovered. If our traditional media landscape featured only a couple of outlets that each flouted the public interest, we would not think twice about using every available tool to foster media pluralism. There is no reason to accept in social media and search what we would not tolerate in legacy media.

Fortunately, alternatives are emerging. Bluesky, a younger social-media platform that recently surpassed 26 million users, was built for pluralism: anyone can create a feed based on any algorithm they choose, and anyone can subscribe to it. For users, this opens many different windows onto the world, and people can also choose their sources of content moderation to fit their preferences. Bluesky does not use your data to profile you for advertisers, and if you decide you no longer like the platform, you can move your data and followers to another provider without any disruption.

Bluesky’s potential does not stop there. The product is based on an open protocol, which means anyone can build on top of the underlying technology to create their own feeds or even entirely new social applications. While Bluesky created a Twitter-like microblogging app on this protocol, the same infrastructure can be used to run alternatives to Instagram or TikTok, or to create totally novel services—all without users having to create new accounts.

In this emerging digital world, known as the Atmosphere, so named for the underlying AT Protocol), people have begun creating social apps for everything from recipe sharing and book reviews to long-form blogging. And owing to the diversity of feeds and tools that enable communities or third parties to collaborate on content moderation, it will be much harder for harassment and disinformation campaigns to gain traction.

One can compare an open protocol to public roads and related infrastructure. They follow certain parameters but permit a great variety of creative uses. The road network can convey freight or tourists, and be used by cars, buses, or trucks. We might decide collectively to give more of it to public transportation and it generally requires only minimal adjustments to accommodate electric cars, bikes and even vehicles that had not been invented when most of it was built, such as electric scooters.

An open protocol that is operated as public infrastructure has comparable properties: our feeds are free to encompass any number of topics, reflecting any number of opinions. We can tap into social-media channels specialised for knitting, bird watching or book piles, or for more general news consumption. We can decide how our posts may or may not be used to train AI models, and we can ensure that the protocol is collectively governed, rather than being at the mercy of some billionaire’s dictatorial whims. Nobody wants to drive on a road where the fast lane is reserved for cybertrucks and the far right.

Open social media, as it is known, provides the opportunity to realise the internet’s original promise: user agency, not billionaire control. It is also a key component of national security. Many countries are now grappling with the reality that their critical digital infrastructure—social, search, commerce, advertising, browsers, operating systems and more—is subordinated to foreign, increasingly hostile, companies.

But even open protocols can become subject to corporate capture and manipulation. Bluesky itself will certainly have to contend with the usual forms of pressure from venture capitalists. As its CTO, Paul Frazee, points out, every profit-driven social-media company ‘is a future adversary’ of its own users, since it will come under pressure to prioritise profits over users’ welfare. ‘That’s why we did this whole thing, so other apps could replace us if/when it happens.’

Infrastructure may be privately provided, but it can be properly governed only by its stakeholders: openly and democratically. For this reason, we must all set our minds on building institutions that can govern a new, truly social digital infrastructure. That is why I have joined other technology and governance experts to launch the Atlas Project, a foundation whose mission is to establish open, independent social-media governance and to foster a rich ecosystem of new applications on top of the shared AT Protocol. Our goal is to become a countervailing force that can durably support social media operated in the public interest. Our launch is accompanied by the release of an open letter signed by high-profile Bluesky users such as the actor Mark Ruffalo and renowned figures in technology and academia such as Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales and Shoshana Zuboff.

There is nothing esoteric about our digital predicaments. Despite the technology industry’s claims, social media is media, and it should be held to the same standards we expect from traditional outlets. Digital infrastructure is infrastructure, and it should be governed in the public interest.

To fight disinformation, treat it as organised crime

The Australian government’s regulatory approach to tackling disinformation misses the mark by focusing on content moderation and controlling access to platforms. This focus on symptoms is like fighting a flood by mopping the floor: it feels like you’re dealing with the immediate problem, but it ignores the root cause.

The government should instead treat disinformation like organised crime and focus on dismantling networks.

Laws governing organised crime are effective because they focus on patterns and networks, not necessarily the commodities criminal syndicates trade in. Laws treating disinformation similarly would focus on scale, coordinated inauthentic behaviour, financial patterns and systematic manipulation for profit or influence, not content or controlling platform access. This would target orchestrated disinformation infrastructure while preserving freedom of expression.

The approach would allow governments, social media companies and their cyber allies to better tackle disinformation networks and actors. They would be able to take down malign disinformation enterprises, instead of playing Whac-A-Mole with content—shifting to controversial community notes or applying ineffective and unenforceable blanket access bans to groups of citizens.

Every disinformation campaign begins with an initiator, someone who deliberately spreads untruthful content to distort our view of reality. Disinformation differs from misinformation, which is unknowingly false—an honest mistake.

We used to think that content moderation and fact checking were the solution, but alone they are ineffective.

Human content moderation costs too much time and money, so companies have been experimenting with AI-assisted processes.

But automated moderation can’t reliably understand nuance, context or intent, which all help determine whether content is truly harmful or simply controversial. AI systems struggle with basic linguistic challenges. They often fail to catch harmful content in non-English languages, regional dialects and culturally specific contexts. Or they frequently misclassify content, struggling to distinguish between disinformation and legitimate discussion about disinformation.

Controlling platform access, such as recent regulation in Australia banning children under 16 years old from using social media, is another approach. But enforcement is difficult.

Yet the biggest problem is neither technical nor practical. It is philosophical.

Liberal democratic societies value freedom of speech. Content moderation is problematic because it treats freedom of speech as merely a legal or technical problem to be solved through rules and algorithms. But freedom of speech, open discourse and the marketplace of ideas are central to the democratic process.

Age-based social media bans present a fundamental tension with democratic and liberal philosophical principles as they impede young people’s development as democratic citizens. Social media is a key space for civic engagement and public discourse. Blanket age bans prevent young people from gradually developing digital citizenship skills. Consequently, young people would suddenly gain access to digital spaces without prior experience navigating them.

Approaching disinformation as organised crime focuses on the root cause of the problem—the malicious actors and networks creating harmful content—rather than trying to regulate the average citizen’s platform access or speech. Such an approach would target specific malicious groups, whether traced back to foreign information manipulation and interference, domestic coordinated inauthentic networks, or financially motivated groups creating fake news for profit.

Laws that treat disinformation as organised crime would require the prosecution to show several elements: criminal intent, harm or risk to public safety, structured and coordinated efforts, and proceeds of crime.

The first two elements should be covered by the definition of disinformation as the intent to deceive for malicious purposes. For the past four years, the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation has warned of the threat of foreign interference. In 2022, foreign interference supplanted terrorism as ASIO’s main security concern and in 2024, it was described as a real, sophisticated and aggressive danger.

ASPI data supports this assessment, exposing widespread cyber-enabled foreign interference and online information operations targeting Australia’s elections and referendums, originating from China, Russia, Iran and North Korea.

Together, ASIO and ASPI’s work indicates intent and harm—to individuals, institutions, organisations and society—for financial or political purposes.

Structured and coordinated efforts are equally provable. Disinformation is already known to involve coordination by organised networks, akin to organised crime syndicates. Meta, Google, Microsoft, OpenAI and TikTok already detect and disrupt covert online influence operations. They understand the tactics, techniques and procedures malicious actors use on their platforms—including identity obfuscation, impostor news sites, bot networks, coordinated amplification activity, and systematic exploitation of platform vulnerabilities.

Finally, disinformation is a funded enterprise, so profits can be classed as proceeds of crime. Like any criminal venture, disinformation is a calculated operation funded to undermine society, through advertising, fraudulent schemes or foreign funding. Laws that target financial aspects of disinformation operations—such as shell companies, front organisations, suspicious financial transactions or use of fake, compromised or stolen accounts—would differentiate malign enterprises from authentic individuals expressing genuine beliefs, however controversial.

Regulating content and platform access risks either over-censorship that chills legitimate discourse or under-moderation that allows harmful content to spread. We already have the tools and legal frameworks to prove malign online influence without undermining liberal democratic values. It’s time to change our approach and classify disinformation as an organised crime.

China’s other new combat aircraft: a crewed fighter, maybe for aircraft carriers

Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group’s J-36 scooped up most of the publicity around China’s late-December revelations, but a second combat type, one from Shenyang Aircraft and referred to for now as J-XX, was revealed at the same time.

It was smaller, and the pictures of it were less clear, so it got some attention. But it deserves plenty, as the other half of an unprecedented double revelation and a complementary part of China’s future air combat system.

Observation of the design reveals that it’s very much a standard-size fighter with a pilot. There are good hints that it’s intended for shipboard operation, though that would not stop it from also equipping the air force.

Since China already has a new naval fighter in the works, the J-XX may be at a very early stage of development. What we saw could have been not a prototype, an aircraft close in design to the intended production version, but a technology demonstrator, which would look like the real thing but lack many features.

The content and style of the two disclosures is no accident, because there are no such accidents in China. There were more and better pictures of the J-36, suggesting that the authorities want more attention for the Chengdu aircraft from their target audiences. One of the audiences is the Chinese population, to be reassured that China is disputing the lead with the United States; another may be the US itself, with a new administration that might be tempted to respond with disclosures of its own, to China’s benefit.

The J-XX appears to be closer to a classic large-fighter size—25 tonnes gross weight, similar to the Eurofighter Typhoon—than the J-36, which has the size of a medium bomber. The J-XX certainly cannot accommodate anything like the J-36’s impressively large main weapon bay and respectably large secondary bays. It is not a competitor or alternative to the J-36.

The J-XX has no vertical tails. Some observers saw, in the first pictures to appear, articulated V-tails that could fold flat in straight and level flight and move into a raised position for takeoff and landing and maneuvering flight; later images, however, showed a tailless lambda wing shape, with a highly swept and blended inner section and less swept, tapered outer panels. The planform resembles many notional designs for next-generation fighters seen in the US and elsewhere since the 2010s.

As on the J-36, the trailing edge incorporates multiple moving control surface panels, and the outer segments are likely split in the same way to act as rudders and speedbrakes. The inner half of the trailing edge is swept sharply forward, moving the control surface further aft to make it more effective in pitch. The exhaust nozzles are laterally separated and extend beyond the structure (unlike the J-36’s nozzles), so full vectoring is both possible and likely, and can add to control in pitch, roll, and yaw.

The engines are apparently separated by a narrow tunnel—a very unusual design feature. Unlike the widely separated engines on the MiG-29 and the Sukhoi Flanker family, they are too close together to accommodate stores between them. The narrow passage is a mystery because it seems to make little sense in terms of aerodynamics, signatures or vehicle packaging: it would appear more logical to fill the space in and use it for fuel.

The undersides of the engine housings are flattened, suggesting that a future version might have shallow weapon bays there. The rest of the shape does not offer any obvious bay locations: the main landing gear bays occupy the strategic terrain on the body sides.

The canopy seems to have a low profile, so low that some people thought the J-XX was uncrewed. But it does have a pilot, at least: there is very little logic to building a drone with two engines, adding weight and complication when there is no concern about losing someone onboard due to an engine failure.

What does this add up to? The tell-tale features may be the large pitch control surfaces and the location of the break line on the trailing edge. The first provides the pitch control authority needed for carrier landings and the second accommodates a wing fold.

Shenyang has been responsible for both of China’s carrier fighters—the Sukhoi-derived J-15 family and the new J-35—and therefore owns China’s expertise in this specialised and challenging area.

The J-35 is still under development, so if the J-XX is a follow-on carrier fighter, production may be some years off. If the aircraft is an early-stage technology demonstrator, that might explain some of the design details.

One is intriguing if this is a carrier jet: the nose is quite long and, as noted, the cockpit is low. As a near-delta with no canard wings, the J-XX will point high when flying slowly for landing. So the pilot will see little of the flight deck that he or she is approaching. But Northrop Grumman demonstrated fully automatic carrier landing in 2013 with the X-47B, which achieved much better consistency in touchdown point than is normal for navy fighters.

Applied to a crewed combat aircraft, autoland would eliminate many training cycles and reduce the number of heavy landings, allowing a lighter airframe and landing gear and reducing operational costs. The Chinese navy, too, would not face the same cultural challenges in making that change that would inhibit the US Navy. The idea is speculative, but it would help explain an early start to a demonstration program.

China’s secretive build-up presents Trump with a difficult nuclear challenge

After disappearing from debate over the last couple of decades, nuclear politics are set to return with a vengeance. China has begun an unexpected and secretive nuclear force buildup. This presents a major challenge for Donald Trump’s new administration, which will want to maintain US nuclear advantage over China.

China’s shifting nuclear posture, the secrecy surrounding it, and the low likelihood of Chinese cooperation on arms control threaten stability in the Indo-Pacific region and beyond.

We have heard little from China’s official sources about its plans for nuclear expansion. The likelihood is that China is seeking parity with the US, driven by political drive for status or possibly by Chinese President Xi Jinping’s ego. If so, it would be just one of many instances of China pushing for parity in foreign and security policy. It may also be part of a general preparation for any future conflict, which should alarm not just Trump but also other leaders in the Indo-Pacific.

No other reasons make much sense. There is little deterrence logic to China’s nuclear expansion. While some scholars have suggested that China is responding to the US’s offensive and defensive capabilities, this is not particularly convincing, given that the US has not expanded its nuclear arsenal in decades. China’s expansion is more likely the result of China’s ambitions.

Other reasons for the expansion, such as empire-building pressure from within the military establishment, are also unconvincing. Strategic forces are under tight political control in China: decisions definitely flow from the top down. Anyway, such an explanation also fails to explain why a change is happening now. There is little indication that military is more influential (the evidence suggests the opposite) or that its views on nuclear force sizing have changed.

Whatever the reason, China’s nuclear expansion itself is considerable and its end state is unclear.

If this expansion is driven by the pursuit of parity, the Trump administration will face an uphill battle on nuclear arms control with China. Beijing has faced repeated calls for it to join nuclear arms control agreements, all of which it rejected on the basis that its nuclear forces are much more modest than those of other nuclear states. If China is pursuing parity, it is unlikely to be interested in nuclear arms control for a while.

Territorial tensions in the Indo-Pacific and the question of Taiwan are already raising temperatures. Adding nuclear competition to the mix only raises them further.

Until now, China’s no-first-use policy and the nuclear imbalance between the US and China have been some source of comfort. But there have been indications that China may adopt a launch-on-warning posture, meaning it might fire before suffering confirmed nuclear hits. This departure, combined with the pursuit of parity, will make crises much more dangerous.

China’s secrecy should be viewed as a threat to all nations. US-Russia nuclear arms control agreements have meant that the US could justifiably concentrate on the threat posed by Iranian and North Korean proliferation. Meanwhile, China—already the second biggest military in the world—has covertly gone down the path of nuclear proliferation.

While some refer to Trump’s powers of distraction, Beijing has become a master magician: it has sold a lie to the Indo-Pacific that Australia and its AUKUS partners are nuclear proliferators. As a result, Australia has had to defend nuclear propulsion while China rapidly and secretly expands its nuclear weaponry.

China claims to want only equality but is actually seeking superiority across the military and technology sectors, including in the nuclear sector. Reaching arms control is likely to be more difficult in the context of a dissatisfied and difficult-to-satisfy power.

Even if Beijing engages in arms control arrangements, its nuclear history should make us question its commitment. While the US and Russia cooperated on non-proliferation, China has supported nuclear proliferation in Pakistan, North Korea and possibly even Iran. This is at least partly responsible for the growing interest in nuclear weapons in South Korea and Japan.

Beijing’s wider strategic behaviour is also indirectly encouraging nuclear proliferation among its neighbours, by trying to expel the US from the region and raising their fears that they will be left alone in facing China. In those frightening circumstances, going nuclear may seem more desirable to them, if not urgently necessary.

The growing Chinese nuclear threat should be an important consideration for the Trump administration, as well as for Australia and the Indo-Pacific. Regional allies, such as Australia and Japan, should make China’s nuclear threat a key agenda item with the US, starting with the Quad meeting reportedly happening next week.

Will Trump crack the mystery of Covid-19’s origin?

The Covid-19 pandemic killed an estimated 7.1 million people worldwide, causing global life expectancy to decline by 1.6 years between 2019 and 2021. It disrupted economies, destroyed livelihoods, and strained social cohesion in many countries. Yet no one has been held accountable for it. Will US President-elect Donald Trump change that?

Five years after the emergence of SARS-CoV-2 (the virus that causes Covid-19), we still do not know where the pathogen first arose. Did it emerge naturally in the wet markets of Wuhan, China, or did it escape from the nearby Wuhan Institute of Virology (WIV), where studies into bat coronaviruses were underway?

We do know that China’s government allowed what might have been a local outbreak to morph into a global health crisis. After the first Covid-19 cases were reported in Wuhan, Chinese President Xi Jinping’s regime censored reports about the disease and hid evidence of human-to-human transmission for weeks. Meanwhile, travel to and from Wuhan was allowed to continue unhindered.

Unlike the Muslim gulag in Xinjiang province or naval-base construction in the South China Sea, however, Chinese authorities could not conceal the novel coronavirus for long, nor could the rest of the world ignore it once the secret was out. So many people contracted Covid-19 so quickly that many hospitals were soon overwhelmed, leaving many victims to be treated in tents.

China’s government then shifted from concealment to damage control. State media reframed the crisis in Wuhan as a story of successful recovery, while touting unrealistically low mortality rates. Meanwhile, Xi thwarted international efforts to initiate an independent forensic inquiry into Covid-19’s genesis, which he claimed would amount to ‘origin-tracing terrorism’. The only investigation he allowed was a 2021 joint study with the World Health Organization that China controlled and steered.

While Trump, who was president for the first few months of the pandemic, often highlighted the link between China and Covid-19, his successor, Joe Biden, effectively let China off the hook. Less than a week after his inauguration, Biden produced a presidential memorandum urging federal agencies to avoid mentioning the virus’s geographic origins.

Biden’s goal was to stem a rise in bullying, harassment and hate crimes against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. The toxicity of America’s partisan politics meant that pushing back against racism—which Trump and his cohort often stoked—also meant shutting down any discussion of China’s role in causing the crisis. Social-media platforms, mainstream media, and some prominent US scientists (who hid their conflicts of interest) also aided the suppression of debate about Covid-19.

The partisan divide over whether to investigate China’s responsibility for Covid-19 persists to this day. Just last month, Democrats challenged a 520-page report—produced by the Republican-controlled US House Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Pandemic—which concluded, after a two-year investigation, that the virus likely escaped from the WIV, faulting the report’s methodology. So, while some US government agencies—including the Department of Energy and the FBI—have given credence to the lab-leak theory, there remains no consensus in Washington.

Failure to get to the bottom of where Covid-19 originated may not only allow China to evade responsibility; it will also weaken the world’s ability to prevent another global pandemic. But there is reason to hope that the incoming Trump administration will revive the search for an answer. Beyond Trump’s own willingness to point the finger at China, some of his cabinet picks—notably, Robert Kennedy Jr, as Secretary of Health and Human Services and Jay Bhattacharya as director of the National Institutes of Health (NIH)—challenged prevailing narratives about Covid-19 (albeit sometimes in dangerous ways).

An effective investigation will require considerable transparency from the US. The NIH, the US government’s medical-research agency, was funding studies on bat coronaviruses at the WIV as far back as 2014. The NIH knew that the work was risky; it was being done in China precisely because the US has stricter rules governing ‘gain-of-function’ research, which involves modifying a biological agent’s genetic structure to confer on it new or enhanced activity, such as increasing a pathogen’s transmissibility or virulence. The NIH continued to fund research at the WIV even after multiple State Department cables flagged the lab’s lax safety standards, stopping only after the pandemic began (when it also removed the description of gain-of-function research from its website).

Making matters worse, we now know that the WIV has been carrying out classified research on behalf of the Chinese military since at least 2017. A 2021 State Department fact sheet acknowledged that some US funding for civilian research could have been diverted to secret Chinese military projects at the institute.

One rule of thumb in forensic investigations is to follow the money, so the Trump administration should start by disclosing the full extent of US funding of coronavirus research in China. But investigators will also have to follow the data, meaning that the US will have to disclose the results of the research it funded in Wuhan, which was part of a collaborative US-China scientific program.

Holding China accountable for its role in the pandemic is only the first step. To safeguard humanity’s future, the Trump administration will also have to address a more fundamental issue: dangerous gain-of-function research is still taking place in some labs in China, Russia and the West. The genetic enhancement of pathogens represents the greatest existential threat to humankind ever produced by science, even greater than nuclear weapons. By tightening rules on such activities—or, ideally, prohibiting lab research that could unleash a pandemic—Trump would leave an important positive legacy.

Preparing Australia for Trump’s return: do more, spend more, risk more

Australia can’t expect Donald Trump to judge its strategic value by historical ties. The focus will be on our willingness to protect ourselves and capacity to contribute to shared strategic interests.

The world is more dangerous today than during the first Trump administration, with competing priorities across Europe, the Middle East and the Indo-Pacific. Australia needs to do more, spend more and risk more in response to these threats. This would be the case even without Trump in the White House.

Australia’s trade deficit with the United States helped during Trump’s first term, because of the administration’s focus on fair trade. But it was not the only reason for Australia’s success in working with Trump then. We thrived because, coming out of the 2016 Defence White Paper, our defence spending was rising and because we led efforts to counter China’s malign influence.

The new Trump administration will continue to frame China as the pacing threat. Australia and Britain, the US’s partners in AUKUS, seem in some policies to be putting trade with China ahead of long-term security concerns. That won’t be welcomed by Trump’s team, especially if accompanied by any expectation that the US takes on the economic and security risks emanating from China.

Trump has suggested that NATO allies lift defence spending to 5 percent of GDP—more than double the alliance’s existing spending target of 2 percent. This is, in part, intended as a wakeup call to the nine NATO members that do not meet the current target.

These NATO members and other allies such as Australia should lift their defence capabilities not because of fear of Trump but because they face security threats. In an Australian federal election year, economic ministries will argue any lift in defence spending requires careful balancing against the full range of pressures on the budget. This is true.

Australia needs to show Trump a persuasive value proposition around what it’s doing for its own security and, as a result, for regional security and the Australia-US alliance. So, lifting spending on defence and technologies to enhance military and cyber capabilities is the first priority to consider as we look towards a new Trump administration. With almost daily reports about Beijing’s increasing control of the information domain, including through the hacking of US and Australian critical infrastructure, Australia should make addressing Beijing’s malign actions a top-tier joint effort with the Trump administration, using and going beyond AUKUS Pillar 2 on advanced technologies.

The cyber effort should be complemented by greater investment in space security that allows us to burden-share in orbit. The 2024 National Defence Strategy alludes to the importance of space control to counter threats by hostile actors but this domain has seen spending cuts at precisely the wrong time. Similarly, advanced autonomous systems that are low-cost but able to be acquired in high volumes would enhance the Australian Defence Force’s capability and assist US efforts to counter Chinese threats.

The second priority to consider is securing critical supply chains by reducing reliance on China. Focusing on selective technology decoupling from China, the Trump administration is likely to expect Australia to play a leading role in securing resilient supply chains, particularly for critical minerals. Building on its spending on the Future Made in Australia policy, Canberra should consider further developing local processing capabilities, establishing joint ventures with foreign companies, including US companies, and securing diversified long-term supply contracts to reduce reliance on China.

This week we have seen the US make security decisions in these areas, including banning Chinese smart cars. Chinese components in wind and solar panel technology may also be a prioritised concern for the US. The Australian government should make it clear that it supports such decisions and views them in similar terms to 5G policies. It should also signal its intent to similarly prioritise Australia’s national security in these areas, promoting establishment of reliable supply chains and working with the US to gain broader support for them.

Third, we must increase operational support for the US in the Indo-Pacific to counter China’s influence. For our own regional security, Australia should re-align with US efforts to push back—openly, not just privately—on Beijing’s economic coercion, military aggression and abuse of technology. This may require Australia to increase its maritime presence in contested areas such as the South China Sea and the Taiwan Strait, potentially in cooperation with India, South Korea or Japan.

Another option would be to widen access arrangements for US military forces to operate from Australian defence facilities, particularly in northern Australia, and accelerate plans for investment in defending those bases against growing missile threats from China. The 2023 Defence Strategic Review recommended an urgent move to deploy missile defence capabilities, including interceptor missiles, but the government failed to act on this recommendation in the 2024 Integrated Investment Program, deferring a decision until the 2026 program.

Fourth, we must use regional mechanisms, such as the Quad and AUKUS, to maintain stability. Australia should lead a recommitment to the Quad’s security interests, downplayed in recent years for fear of upsetting Beijing, and expand the group’s public focus on defence and cyber threats. Australia should also strengthen both pillars of AUKUS, contributing to the success of Pillar 1 through local infrastructure and expertise while ensuring Pillar 2 identifies the capabilities the three nations and their partners need.

Australia shouldn’t act just to please the US or Trump. Good national security policy is good for the Australia-US alliance and our international partnerships. Investing in defence and security means we will always be able to say ‘no’ when a request is not in our interest. By articulating our value commensurate with the worsening geostrategic circumstances, Australia also makes clear we don’t rely on just the US, but on each other.

The 2025 geopolitical calendar

The geopolitical landscape in 2025 is set to be defined by volatility, with the world more fragmented and polarised than ever before.

In this complex and interconnected global environment, staying attuned to the key events shaping international dynamics is essential. From high-stakes summits to pivotal elections and landmark anniversaries, here are some of the key events to watch in 2025.

January

The year begins with a flurry of leadership transitions across global institutions and groupings. South Africa is president of the G20 and Canada is president of the G7 for 2025. This year Malaysia chairs the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, Solomon Islands is chair of the Pacific Islands Forum, Brazil is BRICS chair and Iraq is president of the UN’s Group of 77 and China.

Vanuatu will form a new government following a snap election on 16 January, just a month after the devastating earthquake in Port Vila and two months after the shock dissolution of its parliament. Iran’s president is set to visit Moscow on 17 January to sign a landmark comprehensive strategic partnership, deepening the relationships between the two countries.

The ASEAN Foreign Ministers’ Retreat will take place in Malaysia from 18–19 January.

On 19 January, the TikTok ban in the United States is set to take effect, with the company so far refusing to divest from ByteDance.

The next day, 20 January, will mark Donald Trump’s return to the White House.

The World Economic Forum’s annual meeting in Davos will run from 20 to 24 January. Meanwhile, the Belarusian presidential election is set for 26 January. President Alexander Lukashenko, a close ally of Russian President Vladimir Putin, has run the country since 1994 and is expected to ‘win’ again.

February

The Australian parliament begins the 2025 sitting year on the fourth. Senate Estimates kicks off later in the month.

The AI Action Summit in France on 10 and 11 February will gather heads of state, civil society and business leaders to ensure AI benefits the public interest rather than exacerbating inequalities.

From 14 to 16 February, the Munich Security Conference will convene in Germany. Domestically, Germany will head to the polls on 23 February for an early federal election, after the coalition government led by Chancellor Olaf Scholz lost a no-confidence vote in December.

24 February marks the grim third anniversary since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, as Russia signals it’s open to peace talks with incoming US president, Donald Trump.

In other news, NASA’s SPHEREx is set to launch in late February, a two-year mission to map the entire sky in optical and near-infrared light for the first time to explore the origins of the universe.

March

China’s annual Two Sessions parliamentary meeting will commence on 5 March, offering insights into Xi Jinping and the CCP’s priorities for 2025.

International Women’s Day is on 8 March, as women’s rights decline globally.

Meanwhile the 69th Commission on the Status of Women, marking 30 years since the Beijing Declaration, will take place in New York from 10 to 21 March and push for renewed commitments to women’s rights and gender equality. The UN Development Cooperation Forum will also be held in New York from 12 to 13 March.

The Observer Research Foundation will host the Raisina Dialogue from 17 to 19 March in New Delhi to discuss geopolitical and geoeconomic challenges.

Here in Australia, the (early) federal budget is scheduled for 25 March, in anticipation of the federal election which must be held no later than the 24th of May.

April

The 2025 Spring Meetings of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank Group will take place from 25 to 27 April in Washington.

30 April marks the first 100 days of Trump’s administration in the United States.

May

Albania will hold a parliamentary election on 11 May, allowing voting abroad for the first time. The Philippines will hold a general election on 12 May, with enhanced security protocols already in place to prevent any election related violence. The Copenhagen Democracy Summit will take place from 13 to 14 May. Poland will hold a presidential election on 18 May. Australia’s federal election must be held by 24 May.

Global health will take centre stage at the 77th World Health Assembly in Geneva (27 May 27–1 June). The assembly is overdue to adopt the Pandemic Agreement, which would be the first global framework for international pandemic preparedness and response.

The IISS Shangri-La Dialogue from 30 May to 1 June will gather the defence and security community in Singapore to discuss Indo-Pacific security challenges.

June

Canada will host the 51st G7 summit from 15 to 17 June. The Netherlands will host the 2025 NATO summit from 24 to 26 June in The Hague, for the first time since NATO was founded. This summit will be particularly significant given the ongoing war in Ukraine as well as the implications of Trump’s return to the White House.

June will include commemoration of the 75th anniversary of the Korean War’s outbreak, on the 25th.

The Internet Governance Forum will be held in Norway at the end of June, the largest ever UN meeting held in Norway, bringing together the multistakeholder community to discuss the future of internet governance and digital policy. The forum’s mandate will expire in 2025, and its renewal is part of the WSIS+20 Review being undertaken in 2025.

July

The UN’s AI for Good Global Summit will be held in Geneva from 8 to 11 July. As conflict continues between Israel and Palestine, 11 July marks the 25th anniversary of the Camp David Summit, a reminder of past efforts to achieve peace in the region.

The UN’s High-Level Political Forum on Sustainable Development will take place in New York from 14 to 24 July.

July will see the largest iteration of Exercise Talisman Sabre, with 19 countries invited to participate in the biennial bilateral military exercise between Australia and the United States. A British Carrier Strike Group will deploy to Australia and take part.

The annual BRICS summit is scheduled to take place in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil sometime in July. China is set to host the 2025 Shanghai Cooperation Organization summit likely some time before the end of July.

August

Bolivia will hold a general election on 17 August.

AUSMIN was held in August last year, and with the incoming US administration and the upcoming Australian federal election, will possibly occur around the same time this year.

A California-based startup, Vast, is expected to launch the first commercial space station, Haven-1, on a SpaceX rocket in August.

September

September kicks off with the 54th Pacific Islands Forum in Solomon Islands (8–12 September).

Norway will hold a parliamentary election on 8 September, as the Norwegian prime minister calls Elon Musk’s increasing interference in European politics worrying.

The 80th session of the UN General Assembly will open on 9 September, with the high-level leader’s week starting on 23 September. 21 September is the UN’s International Day of Peace.

October

7 October marks the two-year anniversary of the Hamas attack in Israel, although with the news of a ceasefire deal  hopefully there will be a cessation of fighting soon.

Canada’s federal election is due no later than 20 October, and Ireland’s presidential election by 27 October.

November

November is summit season. The month kicks off with the 2025 UN Climate Change Conference in Belem, Brazil from the 10th to the 20th. With last year’s conference a failure, 2024 the hottest year on record, and this December marking the tenth anniversary of the Paris Agreement, this one will be a crucial moment for decisive global climate action.

Chile will head to the polls for its general election on the 16th.  Meanwhile, the G20 Summit will take place on the 22nd and 23rd in Johannesburg, South Africa, being held in Africa for the first time. The Singaporean general election must be held by 23 November.

Dates have yet to be announced, but November will also see the APEC summit in Gyeongju, South Korea and the ASEAN Summit and East Asia Summit in Malaysia.

December

AUKMIN was held in December last year and may occur around the same time this year.

Other events

Several other important developments are anticipated in 2025, although dates have yet to be announced.

Vladimir Putin reportedly plans to visit India sometime in early 2025, while Russian state media reports Xi Jinping will visit Russia sometime during the year.

A Quad Leaders’ Summit is planned for India in the second half of 2025. Britain has commissioned its first ever externally led strategic defence review, which will be released at some point during the year.

Australia’s annual Indo-Pacific Endeavour exercise will take place sometime in late 2025. The International Court of Justice is expected to deliver its advisory opinion on states’ obligations in respect to climate change sometime in 2025.

AUKUS: Beyond submarines, a blueprint for allied Industrial Integration

The AUKUS defence partnership of Australia, the UK and US has made remarkable progress since its establishment in September 2021, though it also faces emerging challenges. After decades of frustrated attempts at reform of US defence-technology export regulations, the past three years have demonstrated what bipartisan congressional courage and masterful diplomacy can achieve when aligned with strategic necessity.

This was highlighted at a recent Center for Strategic and International Studies roundtable featuring Representatives Joe Courtney and Michael McCaul and Australian Ambassador to the United States and former prime minister Kevin Rudd.

In an era where metrics often oversimplify complex realities, Courtney’s reframing of the US shipbuilding debate deserves particular attention. While critics focus on vessel count, Courtney presents a more nuanced picture: US shipyards are already operating near peak Cold War production levels when measured by tonnage. More significantly, AUKUS will drive production over the next decade to exceed even World War II levels, though in fewer but substantially larger and more sophisticated vessels. This shift in measuring capability rather than quantity reflects the evolution of naval warfare and industrial capacity, and underscores the advantage of Australia building an additional allied shipyard.

However, this industrial renaissance faces immediate challenges. The most pressing concern lies within the Defense Department, where mid-level officials are wrestling with decisions about adding certain submarine technologies—particularly in propulsion and acoustics—to the exclusion list of the US export rules, called the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (ITAR). These seemingly technical decisions could have outsized implications for AUKUS’s first pillar. While McCaul reports reassurances from Deputy Secretary of State Kurt Campbell that these exclusions will ultimately align with AUKUS requirements, the situation highlights the complex interplay between bureaucratic processes and strategic objectives.

The congressional AUKUS Caucus of supporters are confident that the partnership’s durability extends beyond current administration priorities. McCaul’s confidence in AUKUS’s Trump-proofing stems from the former president’s role in its genesis, suggesting a rare point of bipartisan consensus in US foreign policy. Donald Trump’s candidate for secretary of state, Marco Rubio, on 15 January predicted strong support for AUKUS in the incoming administration.

Yet the alliance’s true resilience may lie in what Rudd astutely identified in its second pillar: the de facto creation of an AUKUS free trade agreement.

This emerging defence technology marketplace represents perhaps the most revolutionary aspect of the partnership. The deterrent effect of a unified, innovative defence industrial base across three continents could prove as strategically significant as the submarine program itself. However, realising this potential requires more ambitious steps toward market integration.

The current framework establishes key technological verticals but leaves crucial questions about the stages of innovation and company growth unanswered. A more comprehensive approach would better define the span from basic research to mature companies, which could lead to the creation of a genuine AUKUS innovation ecosystem. This could include shared acceleration programs, coordinated investment strategies, and unified contracting vehicles—all while drawing upon each nation’s unique investment and industrial strengths.

Such integration would require modest personnel commitments, targeted investment to back agreed winners and unprecedented transparency about capability gaps across the three nations. Yet these challenges pale in comparison with the strategic advantages of a truly integrated defence industrial base. This would not only accelerate innovation but also create redundancy and resilience in critical supply chains, a lesson brought into sharp relief by recent global disruptions.

The AUKUS partnership represents more than a submarine deal or even a defence agreement; it is a blueprint for deep industrial integration among democratic allies. As geopolitical competition intensifies, particularly in the Indo-Pacific, this model of alliance-building through industrial policy could prove as significant as traditional security arrangements.

Success will require sustained attention to seemingly mundane details: export control reforms, procurement harmonisation and investment coordination. These unglamourous tasks might not capture headlines like submarine announcements, but they will determine whether AUKUS fulfills its transformative potential.

Moving forward, policymakers should focus on three priorities. First is resolving the ITAR exclusion list challenges in a way that enables rather than constrains technology sharing. Second, there needs to be a comprehensive framework for market integration across all stages of technological development. Finally, we must establish the institutional mechanisms needed to coordinate investment and procurement across three different national systems.

The progress achieved in just three years suggests these challenges are surmountable. More importantly, it demonstrates that democratic nations can move with relative speed and unity when faced with clear strategic imperatives. As AUKUS evolves from concept to reality, maintaining this sense of urgency while attending to crucial technical details will be essential.

The ultimate measure of AUKUS’s success will not be in submarine counts or even tonnage produced but in whether it creates a new model for alliance-building through industrial integration. Early indicators suggest it is well on its way to doing exactly that.

Joining BRICS, Indonesia sticks with multi-alignment strategy

Indonesia’s decision to join BRICS is no strategic pivot but a continuation of its multi-alignment foreign policy. However, Indonesia will need to navigate internal BRICS dynamics while maintaining ties with the West and its leadership role in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations.

Although framed domestically as a step forwards in strengthening economic growth through South-South cooperation, the move is leverage in its dealings with the West and preserves Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto’s approach of ‘friends to all, enemy to none’. Having long participated in BRICS summits as an observer, Indonesia’s formal admission in early 2025 aligns with its commitment to equilibrium through multi-alignment, shown through a parallel application to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development.

As the first Southeast Asian nation to join BRICS, Indonesia’s membership reinforces the group’s claim of representing the Global South. The move has been welcomed by both the current BRICS chair, Brazil, and China in statements promoting Indonesia’s potential contributions to reforming global governance and fostering South-South cooperation. Yet, the narrative of BRICS as a champion of South-South cooperation is debatable, as members such as China and Russia are hardly considered as Global South countries.

Indonesia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs justified joining BRICS as being grounded in principles of equality, mutual respect and sustainable development, but it also thanked Russia as the 2024 BRICS chair for its support during the membership process. This highlights the geopolitical undertones of Jakarta’s decision, given Russia’s strained relations with the West. Additionally, BRICS has positioned itself as a counterweight to Western dominance, also including China and Iran as members.

While Indonesia insists it remains non-aligned, BRICS membership could complicate its relationships with the United States and EU. If tensions between BRICS and the West intensify, Indonesia will need to manage its role carefully to avoid undermining its broader foreign policy objectives.

For example, BRICS’s ambition to create a new currency for trading among members may undermine the US dollar’s dominance of international trade and subsequently irritate Washington, as BRICS members make up 40 percent of the global economy. Still, de-dollarisation remains more of an aspiration than policy for now, as members still heavily depend on the dollar for trade. Moreover, the return of US President Donald Trump, who has threatened a 100 percent tariff on BRICS members over such initiatives, makes the realisation of the grouping’s currency unrealistic.

Despite tensions, joining BRICS aligns with Indonesia’s interest to engage with non-traditional markets. Economic opportunities within BRICS are significant but not without caveats. Collaborations could facilitate investments in infrastructure, technology and public health, supporting Prabowo’s domestic agenda. Partnerships with Brazil and Russia could enhance food and energy security, while China and India may provide technological expertise.

However, such initiatives as the BRICS Technology Transfer Center Network, which was proposed by China in 2018, raise concerns about intellectual property protection and equitable benefit-sharing. It is unclear to what extent the arrangements would protect Indonesia’s intellectual property and that of other countries. Jakarta must ensure these arrangements safeguard its interests to maximise the benefits of membership.

Beyond tension with the West, BRICS also faces internal challenges. Different and sometimes contradicting national interests, such as those between China and India, often undermine the bloc’s cohesion and collective action. This may challenge Indonesia’s ability to influence the group’s agenda without being carried away by the power contest within.

While Indonesia’s middle-power status has made it an effective de-facto leader within ASEAN, BRICS presents a more complex dynamic, requiring skilled diplomacy to promote inclusivity while avoiding alienating the West.

Indonesia’s history of independence and non-alignment offers some advantages in navigating global tension. Jakarta’s pursuit of membership in both BRICS and the OECD shows its multi-alignment strategy, engaging with multiple platforms, regardless of their political circumstances. This flexibility may allow Indonesia to benefit from BRICS while maintaining strong ties with its traditional partners.

Nevertheless, Indonesia’s engagement with BRICS could raise concerns about its leadership role in ASEAN as it risks stretching its resources too thin. As Southeast Asia’s largest economy, Indonesia has traditionally driven ASEAN-led initiatives. While BRICS membership may enhance Jakarta’s global leverage, it risks diverting resources from regional commitments. Indonesia must ensure its participation complements, rather than undermines, ASEAN’s collective interests.

Ultimately, Indonesia’s success within BRICS depends on its ability to meaningfully contribute while safeguarding its national interests. Beyond being a symbolic addition, Indonesia must leverage its position as a regional leader to advocate practical and actionable goals. This includes promoting inclusivity within BRICS, shaping its agenda toward global economic equitability and ensuring it complements ASEAN commitments. With strategic vision and skilled diplomacy, Indonesia can use BRICS to advance its interests while contributing to a more balanced global order.