Tag Archive for: air capability

Demonstrated destruction is deterrence

US and Israeli air strikes in the last month underlined the unrivalled ability of sophisticated air forces to reach and destroy sensitive targets.

The devastating attacks contrasted sharply with ineffectual Iranian and Houthi missile and drone attacks. Critically, the demonstrated power of the strikes strengthened deterrence.

Australia should pay attention as it develops strike capabilities for its strategy of deterrence by denial. The key capability implication for the ADF is the centrality of sophisticated air forces in degrading and penetrating air defences and delivering the firepower needed destroy hard targets. The critical policy insight is that a proven ability to destroy sensitive targets at will is a far more compelling deterrent than visions of future capability.

On 27 September Israel killed Hassan Nasrallah, Hezbollah’s secretary-general, as he met with senior Hezbollah leaders in a bunker buried nearly 20 metres under four high-rise buildings in southern Beirut. Israeli aircraft reportedly dropped 80 precision-guided penetrating weapons with 900kg-class warheads. The weapons were dropped at precise angles and the warheads were fuzed to detonate at specific heights to collapse the high-rise buildings and penetrate Nasrallah’s bunker. While there are questions about the strike’s proportionality, its sophistication and effectiveness are unquestioned.

On 16 October, US aircraft including two B-2A bombers destroyed five buried and hardened weapons storage locations in Houthi-controlled areas of Yemen. The mission reportedly used airspace and airbases in Australia, so the bombers flew at least 10,000km to the targets. The B-2A’s participation suggests GBU-57 Massive Ordnance Penetrators of around 13 tonnes destroyed at least some of the hardened and buried targets, as only B-2As can employ those weapons. In the words of the US defense secretary the strikes demonstrated America’s capacity to ‘target facilities that our adversaries seek to keep out of reach, no matter how deeply buried underground, hardened, or fortified … anytime, anywhere.’

Finally, in the early hours of 26 October more than 100 Israeli aircraft struck air defence, missile production and other military targets in Iran. The assault came in three waves in less than four hours and employed a variety of weapons, including air-launched ballistic missiles from Iraqi airspace. The first wave degraded Iranian air defences, including destroying Iran’s last remaining Russian-made S-300 surface-to-air missile batteries, which were its most advanced. This gave succeeding waves greater flexibility and leaves Iran vulnerable to further attacks. The strikes hit a limited number of sensitive military targets across Iran, including in the capital Tehran, to demonstrate Israel’s restraint while underscoring its ability to strike at will.

By contrast, the more than 500 Iranian missiles and drones targeting Israel in separate attacks in April and October overwhelmingly failed to reach their targets or do more than minor damage to the two Israeli airbases that they did hit. The same is true for Houthi attacks on more than 90 ships in the Red Sea over the last year, with just two ships sunk. This is not to diminish the seriousness of the threat posed by the missiles and drones or the cost exchange problem of using expensive air defence missiles to stop cheap drones. But it does serve to highlight the contrast in effectiveness, and that cost exchange perhaps should also consider the value of targets protected.

Sophisticated Israeli and US air forces, operating as integrated packages including drones and using stand-off missiles, have devastated hardened and defended targets over long range and at will in the past few weeks. Meanwhile, Iranian and Houthi missiles and drones have done little more than harass to the point of prompting retaliatory strikes that underlined their vulnerability.

The ADF should heed the relative effectiveness of these attacks as it develops strike capabilities. Investment in new surface-launched stand-off missiles should not obscure the enduring centrality of air striking forces for two reasons illustrated by events in the Middle East in the last month. First, missiles and drones alone struggle to penetrate capable air defences—especially over long ranges. They need to be integrated with broader strike packages, including crewed aircraft (for now), to reach their targets. Second, stand-in weapons carried by large aircraft remain the only way to effectively deliver the concentrated weight of firepower needed to destroy buried and hardened targets.

Finally, the Israeli and US strikes are a stark reminder that the most effective deterrent is a proven ability to devastate, not simply disrupt, targets at will.

Boeing’s woes and the state of the US defence industry

Boeing is one of the Pentagon’s biggest contractors and therefore a heavyweight supplier for US allies. So its alarming financial condition is much more than investment news.

The company has got itself into loss-making defence programs by overestimating the potential for production profits to cover research-and-development losses. Expect it to be wary in future.

Meanwhile, the other two big US military aircraft builders, Lockheed Martin and Northrop Grumman, look more interested in defending current business, such as the F-35 (Joint Strike Fighter) and B-21 programs, than moving on new and riskier ones.

Boeing’s Defense & Space division on 23 October posted a US$5.5 billion loss for the third quarter of 2024. Most of the drag came from write-offs of future losses on current programs, mainly the T-7A Redhawk trainer and the KC-46 Pegasus tanker. And the company’s civil division, which makes airliners, has its own enormous problems.

Boeing’s profit estimate at completion (EAC) for the KC-47 and T-7 programs is negative. Quite likely, the MQ-25 carrier-based tanker drone and VC-25B presidential transport programs are no longer expected to make money, either.

‘Our EAC process needs to get better,’ CEO Kelly Ortberg said. Advisedly so: after bidding low to get the tanker job, Boeing tried to save money by building the basic airframe at its civil plant at Everett, Washington, rather than setting up a military line in Wichita, which was needed.

Boeing’s rock-bottom bid on the T-7 was influenced by its partnership with Sweden’s Saab, which offered new and cheaper process. But as far back as 2019, Saab people were quietly saying that Boeing didn’t seem to understand those processes.

In 2018, Boeing agreed with then president Donald Trump to cut costs of the two new presidential aircraft by adapting surplus 747-8 airliners it had already built. An independent VIP conversion specialist, GDC Technics, was supposed to convert them, but it went bust and Boeing had to take the work in-house.

As well as being stuck with loss-making aircraft projects, Boeing Defence and Space is under pressure from SpaceX and other newcomers in the space industry.

The result is that the division is losing money, hard to sell, and hard to grow. One analyst asked Ortberg about ‘the potential of just exiting some programs or some contracts where you’ve got absolutely no path to profitability’. Not viable, Ortberg said. ‘These are our core customers that need this capability. We’ve got long-term commitments.’

Well, that, at least, was reassurance the Pentagon wanted to hear.

But are things better in the rest of the US industry? Its structure was established by the Last Supper, the 1993 meeting where deputy defence secretary Bill Perry advised bosses of aerospace prime contractors who still considered their businesses viable to look to their left and their right, ‘because one of you will be out of business in five years.’

It triggered a wave of mergers and acquisitions.

But from the end of 1996, when JSF program kicked off, there was a long drought of major combat aircraft programs (imagine no new projects between the P-80 of 1944 and the F-111 of 1967), because of the Pentagon’s focus on counter-insurgent war in the Middle East.

Next, the Pentagon focused on squeezing the industry on initial acquisition cost, through projects such as Better Buying Power.

Finally, we saw the shift of business emphasis towards maximising shareholder value. What is good for that is cash profit. What is less good is low- or negative-margin research and development, and what is even worse is spending money competing for programs that you don’t win or might win only to see them cancelled or delayed.

For US defence prime contractors today, the path to prosperity is to defend your existing programs and the future support business that goes with them. With few new starts for suppliers to bid on, the primes can demand lower prices from them by threatening to look elsewhere. They can squeeze suppliers until the pips squeak, raiding them for their best-performing people, and then complaining about late deliveries and quality problems.

New programs? Well there is one for fighter-like drones, the Collaborative Combat Aircraft (CCA), but it doesn’t look anything like the sort of big-money effort that the air force’s stalled Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) was supposed to be, fielding a so-called sixth-generation fighter.

 

Lockheed Martin CEO Jim Taiclet could have been more enthusiastic about prospects. At Lockheed Martin’s earnings call, he said, ‘We have to be able to meet the J-20 with enough numbers in the Pacific. F-35 and F-22 now are the only really competitive jets against the J-20, one to one. We have to field enough of those aircraft in a short enough timeframe to maintain an effective deterrent in the Pacific. We need to be able to bring autonomy in the Collaborative Combat Aircraft concept into fifth gen—and sixth gen, if there is one.’

If there is one?

Northrop Grumman CEO Kathy Warden had a similar message when an analyst asked, ‘With the Air Force reevaluating at least the manned part of NGAD, could that free up to get your funding for the Air Force to get to that desired B-21 inventory of 150 units?’

Warden responded, ‘I think that’s exactly what the air force is looking at. They are undertaking a force structure design review, and we know that B-21 is in the mix.’

There’s common sense to this approach. The walls are going up around the major programs, and the case is being made that the CCA or other capabilities can augment them but cannot be allowed to replace them.

And if any money is freed up by postponing a new generation of fighters, Taiclet and Warden will happily take it. (And don’t forget that Northrop Grumman has a very large stake in F-35.) They’re betting, not unreasonably, that CCA money going to other, smaller aircraft suppliers will not come out of their pockets.

An aviation nation needs a national air power enterprise

Australia needs to bring the civil, military and industrial components of aviation policy into a coherent whole.

It should view the sector as a national enterprise to promote mutual support among its various parts. The civilian aviation workforce could be seen as a defence asset, for example, and various efforts to support aerospace manufacturing could be better coordinated to create a stronger industry.

Adopting such a policy would be a big part of what the government has called ‘a coordinated whole-of-government and whole-of-nation approach to Australia’s defence’. It would make better use of resources.

The need is urgent because, as the National Defence Strategy released in April reiterated, Australia no longer has at least 10 years’ warning of major conflict—and hasn’t since 2020. Crucially, airspace security and aviation services can be disrupted well before conflict breaks out, as demonstrated by Chinese probing of the skies of Taiwan and Japan.

Unfortunately, none of this influenced the government’s Aviation White Paper—Towards 2050, published in August. Instead, departmental rather than national policies passed each other like aircraft in cloud.

The Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development, Communications and the Arts focused the white paper strictly on civil and general aviation. Meanwhile, the Department of Defence’s 2024 National Defence Strategy concentrates on military issues, of which air power is but one. Defence is not listed as making a public submission to the aviation white paper. Meanwhile, policy responsibility for the aerospace industry is with the Department of Industry, Science and Resources—and also with Defence, which published its own Defence Industry Development Strategy in February.

Thinking of air power as a national enterprise is not unique or new; it’s just not apparent in Australian policy. The Australian Defence Force’s peak air power doctrine defines the concept as ‘the total strength of a nation’s capability to conduct and influence activities in, through and from the air to achieve its objectives’—but then narrows its gaze to military aviation.

Australian sea power has been consistently portrayed as a national enterprise for years. Arguably, this has led to the government investing in Australia’s merchant fleet and to Defence spending more on naval power than air, land and cyber combined.

British spending on combat air power since 2018 has been guided by a framework that accounts for whole-of-nation security and prosperity objectives. New Zealand’s national aerospace strategy links planned growth in civil aviation to defence and security.

For Australia, adopting the concept of a national air power enterprise is unusually valuable because, as the aviation white paper says, the country is uniquely reliant on aviation. It’s no wonder there are more than 16,000 aircraft on Australia’s civil registry.

The components of Australia’s air power enterprise share challenges that adopting national approaches could address. A supply of skilled labour is among the most serious.

The white paper’s initiatives to improve aviation workforce planning, training and regulation are positive but the document missed a chance to portray the aviation workforce and its training base as national assets.

Instead, it describes the ADF as a major source of skilled labour—and also as a competitor that will ‘exacerbate future skilled aviation workforce challenges in Australian civil aviation’. No public document discusses how the civil aviation sector’s 50,000-strong workforce, a pool of aviation-savvy Australians about three times larger than the Royal Australian Air Force, could be harnessed in times of crisis.

Similarly, a national approach to aircrew training could build capacity. For example, key measures in Britain’s buildup of trained aircrew in the 1930s included the use of civil flying schools for elementary training and establishment of low-readiness reserves to support part-time flying training at civil schools.

And the absence of a national concept for air power means there is no coherent guidance on how Australia’s aerospace industry could reshape air power in the national interest. Instead, policy for the aerospace industry is diffused and divergent. The Defence Industrial Development Strategy alone spreads direction for the aerospace industry across at least three of seven priority areas.

In 2019, Australia’s aerospace industry comprised almost 1000 companies, employed nearly 20,000 people and boasted commercially competitive research, uncrewed-systems expertise and advanced manufacturing, according to a government report. That report also found the industry to be commercially viable and adding almost $3 billion to the economy annually.

Since then, the aerospace industry has designed and built a growing variety of advanced aviation components and uncrewed aircraft, including the fighter-like Boeing Ghost Bat. But if there has been government support for these efforts, it has been experimental or based on specific projects rather than a coordinated effort to help build autonomous aircraft domestically.

More is needed because domestically produced autonomous aircraft could use an Australian industry strength to liberate Australian aviation from the labour constraints of a small population.

This is what reshaping air power to create new potential in the national interest could look like. Australia needs more from its air power to address deteriorating security and resources shortages. The first steps are a coherent concept of Australia’s national air power enterprise and a vision of what the nation needs.

Editors’ picks for 2023: ‘How the Australian E-7A Wedgetail went from on the edge to cutting edge’

Originally published on 7 November 2023.

In September 2014, a RAAF E-7A Wedgetail early warning and control aircraft arrived in the Middle East to join the war against the Islamic State terror group. Soon after its crew set off on a familiarisation flight, they were told a US E-3 Sentry aircraft that was to direct operations over Iraq was unserviceable and were asked to take over the operation.

Number 2 Squadron commander Warren Haynes says the crew had been extensively prepared for the mission in simulators and on exercises and it was quickly assessed that their workup training made this complex operation safe for them.

The crew transitioned seamlessly from a ‘famil’ exercise to an operation, Wing Commander Haynes tells The Strategist.

RAAF chief Robert Chipman says the Wedgetail joined Australia’s Air Task Group as a battlespace manager with tasks including directing fighter aircraft and linking them up with tankers—’orchestrating the fight, bringing it all together’.

Air Marshal Chipman says the aircraft surprised many by performing seamlessly with how the E-3s operated, using the same tactics, techniques and procedures, with a radar able to see a long way and to build a very good picture, and with a strong communication suite. Suddenly there was an E-7 on the block with half as many crew as an E-3 and a much smaller airframe. ‘It was a lot more reliable than the E-3s and was doing at least as good a job.’

It wasn’t always so. The Wedgetail was an early addition to the public version of the Defence Department’s list of projects of concern in January 2008 and it remained there until December 2012.

Now a RAAF Wedgetail has been sent to Europe to help safeguard Ukraine’s vital supply lines. The Wedgetail is operating from Germany and will not enter the airspace of Ukraine, Russia or Belarus. Its highly effective radar systems will scan for any possible missile launches from hundreds of kilometres inside Russia, Belarus and Russian-occupied areas of Ukraine.

Chipman says the Wedgetail, built into a Boeing 737 airframe, was an Australian idea, built to Australian specifications to meet an Australian requirement. Boeing and Northrop Grumman in the US fitted the radar and the UK’s BAE Systems the electronic-warfare system.

He says the project was for a long time very troubled and benefited from the additional oversight as a project of concern. ‘An element of pragmatism crept in once we realised that some of the capability requirements we set were aspirational, that this was leading-edge technology. We needed to work with the manufacturer and evolve it iteratively.

‘We were able to bring it into service at a time when the operators could still influence the capability. That’s been the secret sauce—you have people who know the system well, to operate it to its top potential and work closely with the manufacturers to deliver that.’

The Wedgetail was highly developmental and the phased-array radar, the heart of the surveillance capability, had never been integrated into an airborne system at that scale.

The Australian National Audit Office warned that delays in some projects, including the Wedgetail, resulted from their technical difficulty leading to ‘underestimation by industry and/or Defence of the complexity of developmental and/or large scale integration projects’.

The ANAO said the Wedgetail achieved final operational capability in May 2015, but noted that it had ‘provided more than 1,220 hours directing air strikes in the coalition operations in the Middle East since October 2014’.

Chris Deeble, who now heads Defence’s Capability Acquisition and Sustainment Group, joined the project in 2006.

He says the aircraft was conceived as a mobile element of the command-and-control role that had previously been done from the ground. What finally emerged was vastly more than that. ‘It’s a critical aggregator and disseminator of information, taking information in, adding its own sensor and other information and pushing that out to the fighter force. It’s an enabler now for fifth-generation warfighting.’

Deeble says such complex projects are necessary and the Wedgetail experience demonstrates that they can succeed. ‘It’s about being aware, understanding the risks and the benefits, and charting the path that helps avoid significant problems you will inevitably find as you take on complex technology.

‘People didn’t understand what being the lead customer for our first-of-type capability was going to mean for us. The specification was very demanding, as I discovered when I took over the program.’ A very aggressive schedule was never going to be achieved.

An example was the early approach to testing the radar. ‘When we got the radar operating on the aircraft, the temptation was to check its performance at full power, its range, its loading and its maximum performance. That was very important to understanding if we’ll get there.’ But when they went to full power on the immature radar, it failed, he says. ‘It was not stable, so we had to accept that path was not going to work and reverted to a lower power.’

Ultimately, the integrated radar and communications systems fitted within two side arrays and a ‘top hat’ (also known as a ‘surfboard’) on the fuselage could ‘see’ over a vast area.

Deeble says that, from his experience running many projects of concern, a lack of understanding of the risks involved is a common factor. That means dealing with unexpected problems as the project progresses.

‘And people would say that if we told government that it was going to take 10 years versus six years, then government would never approve it. I think that’s not true, and I think sometimes we underestimate governments’ and politicians’ ability to understand it.’

It took much longer than expected to get the Wedgetail project right, and that meant a constant fear that the key stakeholders wouldn’t bear the cost and the project would be cancelled.

‘You have to understand where you may be pushing the bounds of technology,’ Deeble says.

So, what does the Wedgetail’s ultimate success signal about Australia’s ability to develop cutting-edge technology and get it operational?

‘It tells us that it’s not cheap,’ says Chipman. ‘It’s not easy; it doesn’t happen quickly. You need to persist with it, but you also need to get to a point where you’ve got a good enough product to push it out into the operational community and evolve it over time.

‘That combination of working in partnership, having the vision, persistence and determination to see a capability through, but also to evolve it while it’s in service are valuable lessons. That’s our pathway. There are other ways to deliver cutting-edge technology to the warfighter, and we need to be open to all of them.’

Chipman says some original goals may have been over optimistic, but setting them helped develop a significant capability. ‘Had we not set ambitious targets, we would have fallen short of what was eventually achieved. You have to strive for ambitious targets.’

But there is a balance point. ‘We also need to achieve the timely delivery of capability into service. We were close to a point with the Wedgetail where our determination to achieve an ambitious target was delaying its introduction, and that’s dead time for us. If a product is good enough, then we bring it into service and achieve those aspirational objectives over time.’

How difficult is it to evolve a capability once it’s operational?

That’s the new model, says Chipman. The RAAF has a steady drumbeat refreshing the capabilities of platforms such as the F-35A Lightning II, the Growler electronic attack aircraft and the Super Hornet by upgrading software, hardware and firmware. ‘That ensures that we’re on the leading edge of technology. We must do that because our potential adversaries are not standing still. They’re delivering new missiles and other capabilities into inventory, new electronic-warfare systems. You’ve got this cat-and-mouse game where we need to continue to make sure our systems can compete and win.’

How the Australian E-7A Wedgetail went from on the edge to cutting edge

In September 2014, a RAAF E-7A Wedgetail early warning and control aircraft arrived in the Middle East to join the war against the Islamic State terror group. Soon after its crew set off on a familiarisation flight, they were told a US E-3 Sentry aircraft that was to direct operations over Iraq was unserviceable and were asked to take over the operation.

Number 2 Squadron commander Warren Haynes says the crew had been extensively prepared for the mission in simulators and on exercises and it was quickly assessed that their workup training made this complex operation safe for them.

The crew transitioned seamlessly from a ‘famil’ exercise to an operation, Wing Commander Haynes tells The Strategist.

RAAF chief Robert Chipman says the Wedgetail joined Australia’s Air Task Group as a battlespace manager with tasks including directing fighter aircraft and linking them up with tankers—’orchestrating the fight, bringing it all together’.

Air Marshal Chipman says the aircraft surprised many by performing seamlessly with how the E-3s operated, using the same tactics, techniques and procedures, with a radar able to see a long way and to build a very good picture, and with a strong communication suite. Suddenly there was an E-7 on the block with half as many crew as an E-3 and a much smaller airframe. ‘It was a lot more reliable than the E-3s and was doing at least as good a job.’

It wasn’t always so. The Wedgetail was an early addition to the public version of the Defence Department’s list of projects of concern in January 2008 and it remained there until December 2012.

Now a RAAF Wedgetail has been sent to Europe to help safeguard Ukraine’s vital supply lines. The Wedgetail is operating from Germany and will not enter the airspace of Ukraine, Russia or Belarus. Its highly effective radar systems will scan for any possible missile launches from hundreds of kilometres inside Russia, Belarus and Russian-occupied areas of Ukraine.

Chipman says the Wedgetail, built into a Boeing 737 airframe, was an Australian idea, built to Australian specifications to meet an Australian requirement. Boeing and Northrop Grumman in the US fitted the radar and the UK’s BAE Systems the electronic-warfare system.

He says the project was for a long time very troubled and benefited from the additional oversight as a project of concern. ‘An element of pragmatism crept in once we realised that some of the capability requirements we set were aspirational, that this was leading-edge technology. We needed to work with the manufacturer and evolve it iteratively.

‘We were able to bring it into service at a time when the operators could still influence the capability. That’s been the secret sauce—you have people who know the system well, to operate it to its top potential and work closely with the manufacturers to deliver that.’

The Wedgetail was highly developmental and the phased-array radar, the heart of the surveillance capability, had never been integrated into an airborne system at that scale.

The Australian National Audit Office warned that delays in some projects, including the Wedgetail, resulted from their technical difficulty leading to ‘underestimation by industry and/or Defence of the complexity of developmental and/or large scale integration projects’.

The ANAO said the Wedgetail achieved final operational capability in May 2015, but noted that it had ‘provided more than 1,220 hours directing air strikes in the coalition operations in the Middle East since October 2014’.

Chris Deeble, who now heads Defence’s Capability Acquisition and Sustainment Group, joined the project in 2006.

He says the aircraft was conceived as a mobile element of the command-and-control role that had previously been done from the ground. What finally emerged was vastly more than that. ‘It’s a critical aggregator and disseminator of information, taking information in, adding its own sensor and other information and pushing that out to the fighter force. It’s an enabler now for fifth-generation warfighting.’

Deeble says such complex projects are necessary and the Wedgetail experience demonstrates that they can succeed. ‘It’s about being aware, understanding the risks and the benefits, and charting the path that helps avoid significant problems you will inevitably find as you take on complex technology.

‘People didn’t understand what being the lead customer for our first-of-type capability was going to mean for us. The specification was very demanding, as I discovered when I took over the program.’ A very aggressive schedule was never going to be achieved.

An example was the early approach to testing the radar. ‘When we got the radar operating on the aircraft, the temptation was to check its performance at full power, its range, its loading and its maximum performance. That was very important to understanding if we’ll get there.’ But when they went to full power on the immature radar, it failed, he says. ‘It was not stable, so we had to accept that path was not going to work and reverted to a lower power.’

Ultimately, the integrated radar and communications systems fitted within two side arrays and a ‘top hat’ (also known as a ‘surfboard’) on the fuselage could ‘see’ over a vast area.

Deeble says that, from his experience running many projects of concern, a lack of understanding of the risks involved is a common factor. That means dealing with unexpected problems as the project progresses.

‘And people would say that if we told government that it was going to take 10 years versus six years, then government would never approve it. I think that’s not true, and I think sometimes we underestimate governments’ and politicians’ ability to understand it.’

It took much longer than expected to get the Wedgetail project right, and that meant a constant fear that the key stakeholders wouldn’t bear the cost and the project would be cancelled.

‘You have to understand where you may be pushing the bounds of technology,’ Deeble says.

So, what does the Wedgetail’s ultimate success signal about Australia’s ability to develop cutting-edge technology and get it operational?

‘It tells us that it’s not cheap,’ says Chipman. ‘It’s not easy; it doesn’t happen quickly. You need to persist with it, but you also need to get to a point where you’ve got a good enough product to push it out into the operational community and evolve it over time.

‘That combination of working in partnership, having the vision, persistence and determination to see a capability through, but also to evolve it while it’s in service are valuable lessons. That’s our pathway. There are other ways to deliver cutting-edge technology to the warfighter, and we need to be open to all of them.’

Chipman says some original goals may have been over optimistic, but setting them helped develop a significant capability. ‘Had we not set ambitious targets, we would have fallen short of what was eventually achieved. You have to strive for ambitious targets.’

But there is a balance point. ‘We also need to achieve the timely delivery of capability into service. We were close to a point with the Wedgetail where our determination to achieve an ambitious target was delaying its introduction, and that’s dead time for us. If a product is good enough, then we bring it into service and achieve those aspirational objectives over time.’

How difficult is it to evolve a capability once it’s operational?

That’s the new model, says Chipman. The RAAF has a steady drumbeat refreshing the capabilities of platforms such as the F-35A Lightning II, the Growler electronic attack aircraft and the Super Hornet by upgrading software, hardware and firmware. ‘That ensures that we’re on the leading edge of technology. We must do that because our potential adversaries are not standing still. They’re delivering new missiles and other capabilities into inventory, new electronic-warfare systems. You’ve got this cat-and-mouse game where we need to continue to make sure our systems can compete and win.’

At the pointy end, better is bigger

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

In a recent Strategist post, we discussed the pros and cons of different sized unmanned maritime aerial systems. We came down on the side of larger systems. Geoff Slocombe then took issue with our position, arguing that there’s a lot to be said for smaller systems.

Let’s be clear: Geoff is absolutely right to extol the virtues of small footprint Unmanned Aerial Systems (UAS). At little logistic cost, they can do all sorts of useful things. Unmanned systems have some notable advantages over manned platforms; they’re usually cheaper to operate and have greater endurance (for the same size). In the intelligence, reconnaissance and surveillance (ISR) role they can be the eyes of the ship at distances and in conditions beyond the capabilities of human lookouts. And a future network of small UASs will be able to provide extended and persistent over-the-horizon situational awareness. No task group should be without them. And, if ISR was all you ever wanted to do, there’d be no reason to look much beyond them.

But we don’t spend billions of dollars on surface combatants just to do ISR. There are many cheaper ways to do that these days. We also want our warships to be able to seriously spoil someone else’s day at sea, be it another surface combatant or a submarine. And to terminate someone’s cruise with prejudice from the air, you need an aircraft with a substantial payload.

Operationally, the sensors and weapons on an unmanned system aren’t necessarily different to those on manned systems. That’s because the sensor or weapon has to be fit for its intended purpose, not scaled to accommodate the size of the host platform. In fact, the inverse is true: the size of the platform should be determined based on the sensor or weapons capabilities it’s intended to carry.

Naval helicopters aren’t big solely because of the human crewing aspect—they also need to carry some heavy duty equipment. An MH-60R Seahawk weighs about 7,000kg when empty, and carries an additional 3,000kg of equipment, fuel and crew (4 persons) in its ASW configuration. A typical load-out might include up to three Mk54 ‘lightweight’ torpedos, each of which weighs 275kg. The Seahawk’s AQS-22 dipping sonar weighs a further 272kg, and features a launcher for 25 sonobuoys.

A minimum useful payload for an ASW helicopter is probably about 600kg: at least one torpedo, and either a dipping sonar or a sonobuoy launcher. Ideally it would have the capacity to lift more than 1,500kg of payload: two torpedoes, and both dipping sonar and sonobuoys. There’s a reason that naval combat helicopters are the size they are. You can work a fleet mix in various ways—such as using the Romeo version of the Seahawk to do the sonar work to detect submarines and having another platform providing the high explosive on target (the USN is experimenting with using the utility Sierra model Seahawk as a torpedo truck). But ultimately, you still have to have the grunt to get all the stuff into the right spot.

Another manned ASW helicopter, the AW159 Wildcat, is in service with the UK Royal Navy and Republic of Korea Navy. It’s relatively light at 3,300kg empty, but it can carry more than 2,500kg in payload, fuel and crew. In ASW configuration, the Wildcat carries two crewmembers, two Stingray lightweight torpedos, depth charges, and a dipping sonar system.

By comparison, when we turn to the UAS side, the larger rotary wing ‘Charlie’ version of the US Navy’s MQ-8 Fire Scout is about 1,500kg empty and 2,700kg fully loaded. Almost all of the difference is additional internal fuel—only about 300kg is available to external payloads. It’s a huge advantage for unmanned aircraft that the volume normally occupied by crewmembers and supporting systems can instead be filled with fuel tanks and other equipment, improving the endurance of the platform. But the size of the platform (or, more accurately, the lift available) still limits the useable payload of the vehicle. A Fire Scout payload for an ASW mission would probably be limited to either a small sonobuoy dispenser, or a dipping sonar system. In either case, a Fire Scout probably wouldn’t be able to carry a torpedo as well.

But there’s no law of nature that says a future UAS couldn’t fill the roles of manned ASW helicopters like the Romeo or the Wildcat. In fact, there are big advantages to replacing the crew with an at least partly autonomous control system. And that technology is almost inevitable—we think that too many people thinking about future capability don’t give enough credit to the implications of Moore’s Law. The surface combatant of the future will likely have a mix of small and large embarked aircraft—but it’s a fair bet that they’ll all be unmanned.

Unmanned naval aviation—bigger isn’t always better

The 14 February piece by James Mugg and Andrew Davies was like the curate’s egg: good in parts. Much of what they wrote about the significance of unmanned aerial vehicles (UAV) and systems (UAS), especially about Navy’s recently announced contract for 110kg CAMCOPTER S-100 rotary wing UAS and three year logistics support, is non-controversial. They could’ve also mentioned Navy’s current trials with the Boeing Insitu 22kg ScanEagle fixed wing UAV, equipped with Melbourne’s Sentient Vision Systems ViDAR sensor, but more on that later.

Their consideration of a large unmanned helicopter like Northrop Grumman’s 1,430kg, 7.3 metre long MQ-8B/C Fire Scout for Navy was the problem. Probably the only RAN vessels where Fire Scout would be an excellent UAV choice are the two Canberra Class LHDs plus HMAS Choules, a smaller amphibious vessel. Smaller UAVs make much more sense for the air warfare destroyers, future frigates and offshore patrol vessels.

Fire Scout is an outstandingly good UAV, with excellent endurance, serious sensor capabilities, and it can be equipped with offensive missiles. The US Navy’s large platforms, like their littoral combat ships, have deck space and hangar room to deploy Fire Scout very effectively.

So why is this contrary view on the suitability of large unmanned helicopters for the RAN’s ships, apart from those already mentioned, being put forward?

Quite simply, if a ship’s hangar only has space for one helicopter then it must be a manned one. Mugg and Davies probably agree. Many of the tasks assigned to naval helicopters require crew on-board. Consider surface and underwater warfare operations; search and rescue by day and night; vertical and cross-deck replenishment and movement of personnel; casualty evacuation; interception and boarding; counter-terrorism operations; humanitarian aid and disaster relief; support for other government agencies, including Police and Border Force; and many other missions where interaction between aircrew and other people is necessary for successful completion.

Hangar space for two helicopters on board an RAN ship, alas not provided on the Hobart Class AWDs but hopefully on the Future Frigates, is important for anti-submarine warfare because they can share continuous surveillance, underwater detection and attack submarine threats. The OPVs are never going to be big enough to have double helicopter hangar space.

It would seem much more sensible for most Australian warships to carry at least one manned helicopter in its hangar, sharing that with one or more small UAVs which become the eyes of the ship at distances and in conditions beyond the capabilities of human lookouts.

That view is supported by Defence’s 2016 Integrated Investment Plan, which includes this statement (Section 4.32):

‘To improve the situational awareness of ships on operations, we will acquire a new tactical unmanned intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance aircraft system that will complement other sensors and systems by extending the area able to be held under surveillance. These systems will be progressively introduced over the decade to FY 2025‑26.They will be able to operate from a range of vessels of varying size, including the future frigates and patrol vessels.’

The budgeted project cost range of $500m-$750m suggests that Navy’s planning to acquire quite a large number of small UAVs, which typically cost well under $3m each with extras. The major acquisition program could start as early as 2018 and run until 2030.

At Nowra in November 2015, an RAN ScanEagle tested Sentient Vision Systems’s Visual Detection and Ranging (ViDAR) optical detection system, turning the UAV into a broad area maritime surveillance asset capable of covering up to 80 times more area in a single sortie than is possible with standard cameras. The self-contained ViDAR system consists of high-resolution digital video cameras and software that analyses image feed and autonomously detects, tracks, and photographs each contact with a 180-degree pan. ViDAR is similar to RADAR, but uses visible rather than radio frequency.

In the fourth quarter 2016 a team from Navy’s UAS Unit deployed to Christmas Island to test their ability to conduct long-term UAS operations without support. The deployment and location allowed offshore flights for up to 10 hours at a time. By four weeks into the three month deployment, the team had achieved approximately 82 flight hours, with over 12 hours of specific ViDAR operation.

During the RAN’s 2015 and 2016 trials, which on occasion covered an area greater than 13,000 square nautical miles (45,000 km2) in a 12-hour trial mission, ViDAR successfully detected Navy vessels positioned for the trials, and autonomously found smaller targets like recreational boats and yachts, a submerged whale, and even an airborne helicopter.

The ScanEagle’s data links allow it to send image data from up to 50 nautical miles away. As well, Sentient Vision Systems claim that ViDAR is ideal for real-time small object detection such as people in the water, periscopes at 4 nautical miles, and fast boats out beyond 8 nautical miles. It can be used to detect objects that are too small for existing radars.

The RAN trials with ScanEagle/ViDAR are continuing at sea in 2017. I’d say Navy is well on track in its thinking about uses for UASs.

2017 USAF Budget: F-35A price and production schedule update

As I’ve been doing for the last few years (2013, 2014 and 2015), here’s my analysis of the US Air Force’s most recent budget plans for the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter. As the defence press has been reporting for a while now, the USAF faces a looming ‘bow wave’ of acquisition costs as it tries to fund the acquisition of F-35s, tankers, drones and C-130 transport aircraft, as well as the development of the new long-range strike bomber. Funding isn’t likely to come at the expense of other American capabilities—ICBMs and nuclear missile subs and the Ford-class carriers will all require big bucks in the F-35 acquisition timeframe. And don’t even mention sequestration. In this environment something had to give, and we can see the impact of budget pressure on USAF F-35 plans in this year’s budget figures (PDF, see table on p.71).

The USAF has deferred the acquisition of 45 aircraft over the next five years—roughly 10% of its planned cumulative fleet by 2021. The 2013–16 plans all had production rising to 60 A-model aircraft (the version the Royal Australian Air Force will acquire) per year by 2018. This year’s revision cuts that back to 44 aircraft in 2018, 48 in 2019 and again in 2020, and then 60 per year from 2021 to the mid-2030s. The chart below shows the net effect in cumulative numbers. Unlike the early days of the program, where production was deferred due to technical immaturity of the aircraft, this deferral appears to be purely budget-driven.

That’s a potentially significant development for Australia, because we’ll be buying more than 30 aircraft over the period 2018–21. We’ll pay whatever the production cost at the time is, so any loss of economy of scale has the potential to increase the sticker price. The Joint Program Office is playing down the impact on prices, and there’s always the possibility of other customers taking up the slack through foreign military sales, or of Congress voting more funds for F-35 acquisition than the Pentagon requested, like they did last year and the year before (as well as voting funds for a dozen Super Hornets the USN doesn’t want). But the USAF’s own figures suggest that they might be assuming a noticeable impact on the F-35’s unit cost. The following chart shows the cost projections from the past five USAF budget requests, along with a calculated curve that corresponds to industry best practice ‘learning effects‘. The FY 2017 figures clearly show a planning assumption of a flatter cost-versus-time curve than in the past, including a per aircraft increase of around US$7 million in the 2020 purchases compared to last year’s figure.

F-35 budget update 2016

If those figures play out in practice, it looks like Australia will be paying more for its aircraft. Taken at face value, the additional cost could be US$150–200 million (on top of an expected US$3 billion) over the first 30 aircraft in the next tranche. However, the actual premium could be less than that. USAF budget requests have proven to be conservative in the past few years, and recent Low Rate Initial Production contracts signed between the Pentagon and the contractor Lockheed Martin have come in below the budgeted figures. That’s seen the overall projected acquisition cost reduced by 3%, according to the US Government Accountability Agency (PDF, see p.15).

The past few GAO figures also provide a measure of confidence of program maturity, and of the efficacy of efforts to reduce unit costs. When I last looked at F-35 cost growth across the entire program, the figures showed a 75% real growth in F-35 unit procurement costs between 2002 and 2012. In fact the situation was worse than that. When the program was rebaselined in March 2012, the revised baseline figure was almost double the original estimate (GAO cite a 99% increase). Since then things have improved year-on-year, with the most recent estimates coming in at 10% below the rebaselined figure. (See table below. Note that these figures can’t be directly compared with those in the chart above—the average procurement cost includes all three variants of the aircraft, and also includes ancillary items.)

Table. F-35 average procurement costs (constant US 2016 $m) since 2012 rebaselining.

4

Source: Annual GAO reports on F-35 program (2016 here, PDF)

In summary, the ‘state of the union’ budget report on the F-35 is that acquisition of the aircraft continues steadily, though the expected growth in the next few years has been deferred due to budget pressures in the US. Perhaps ironically, given the early history of the program, that’s happening at a time when all of the indications are that costs are coming down. What the net implications will be for Australia isn’t entirely clear, but we may end up paying a little more later this decade.

Author’s note: the chart of F-35A flyaway costs in an earlier version of this post included some data points calculated with the wrong deflator. The conclusions of the article are unchanged by the small numerical error that resulted.

If you can’t beat them, build an R2-D2

R2D2

I’ve recently discussed two trends in military technology. The week before lasts’ post on the 1990s non-revolution in military affairs argued that low-tech adversaries simply make themselves scarce when faced with a technologically superior foe. Before that I discussed the impact on the survivability of expensive top-end platforms of the new generation of long range sensors and weapons.

The former observations apply to the asymmetric campaigns that western forces have fought over the past 15 years in the Middle East. The latter apply in the ‘anti-access/area denial’ world of future major power conflict. It should be worrying for planners of future force structures that exquisitely capable but increasingly expensive high-end platforms don’t look to have a decisive role in either.

But somewhere in between there’s the ‘just right’ campaign, where those platforms are exactly what’s required. That includes the 1991 Gulf War and the NATO contribution to the Kosovo campaign in 1998–99. In both cases western forces avoided exposure to insurgency because they weren’t involved in extended ground campaigns. And Iraq and Serbia’s air defence capabilities didn’t seriously trouble American-led air power.

It was a grand time for advocates of air power. I sat through many a presentation of the virtues of bloodless (for the winners) achievement of strategic aims through precision strike. The trouble is that the 1990s, when that mindset was at its strongest and the worship of airpower reached its zenith, doesn’t look much like today’s world.

The post 2003 insurgency in Iraq was only put down by the many boots on the ground of the 2007 ‘surge’. And, as we know now, it left behind a very fragile environment, creating space for a hideous new hybrid actor in the form of ISIL. Russia is showing that state-backed hard power still plays a role in international affairs and it’s seriously rattling European notions of post Cold War peace. In the Pacific theatre the United States is facing an ever more challenging access environment as China builds its military power, especially numerous missile systems designed to keep American naval power at arm’s length.

Insurgencies and anti-access systems are both asymmetric in the sense that they don’t tackle the strengths of western forces head on. They’re post-RMA strategies that blunt the advantages otherwise conferred by sophisticated weapon systems. Neither are a new idea; the Viet Cong successfully adopted guerilla tactics against a much more powerful United States half a century ago and Egypt’s asymmetric approach to Israeli air power and armour in 1973 achieved their goals.

There are two possible responses to the contemporary versions of these challenges. The first is to push on and develop ever more elaborate platforms to maintain a technological edge. There are numerous downsides to that idea. It will require better defensive suites to allow the platforms to get close enough to do their job, with commensurate cost and weight penalties. The R&D will take ever longer, if the 19 years and counting of the F-35 wasn’t enough. And there’s always the risk that we’d be deep into diminishing returns, as adversaries think up new asymmetric responses (not least of which the ‘swarming’ of major platforms by large numbers of much cheaper systems), steal the technology for themselves, or both.

I think the better answer is summed up in the old saying about the relative merits of not beating them and joining them. If the adversaries are using long-range sensor and weapon systems on one hand and dispersion on the other, it suggests a new approach that takes the best of both worlds. Major platforms of the future mightn’t deliver end effects themselves, but a swarm of smaller sub-systems that by virtue of numbers could provide area coverage for ISR, persistence in the battlespace and, when called together, locally outnumber even sophisticated defences.

The sub-systems could be networked together, and in the future Moore’s Law will probably enable autonomous systems. In short, the future of military power might be R2-D2s rather than Death Stars (PDF):

‘Just as the Death Stars’ vulnerability and inadequacy are perfectly realistic, the superior operational performance of a simple droid corresponds to real-life experience. Time and again, war-winning weapons tend to be simple, inexpensive and small.’

The author of that piece could usefully have added ‘and numerous’ at the end there, but the rest of the sentiment is right. The resultant force mightn’t look as impressive as today’s—perhaps a problem for peacetime ‘presence’ and alliance assurance—but it’ll be more effective when it counts.

Two things will be required to make that future a reality. First, the temptation to make the sub-systems as capable as possible will have to be resisted—that way awaits further R&D, cost and schedule problems. Second—and more difficult to achieve—is the need for military planners to give up on Death Stars. If recent reports on the RAN’s frigate plans are to be believed, there’s a fair way to go yet.

Flight Path

A senior Iraqi military officer waits with US Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Gen. Martin E. Dempsey, and US Ambassador to Iraq, Stuart E. Jones, prior to a meeting with the Iraqi Prime Minister in Baghdad International Airport in Baghdad, Iraq, Mar. 9, 2015. (DOD photo by D. Myles Cullen/Released)
In this week’s post, we cover intelligence leaks, supersonic engines, the contentious LRS-B funding plan, gaps in close air support capability, and the most powerful rocket booster ever built.

Last week, Chinese state media reported two men have been jailed for selling intelligence on the PLA(N) aircraft carrier Liaoning to foreign spies. Chinese counterintelligence officials noted young Chinese internet users were being recruited by foreign spies to gather military intelligence. In the same week, Chinese media confirmed the construction of China’s second aircraft carrier (a companion of Liaoning). Admiral Liu (a former political commissar of the PLAN) didn’t provide an in-service date but he noted that the existing carrier, Liaoning, will need more practice, fighter jets, trained pilots and mature technology before undertaking missions into the far seas. Read more