Tag Archive for: Australian Government

The continuing search for balance in Australia’s Indo-Pacific policy

At the end of 2022, Australia’s Indo-Pacific policy is much better calibrated than in recent years. But the right balance between deterrence and engagement remains elusive. An inherent tension between the two concepts was apparent in the public outcomes of the separate talks earlier this month between Foreign Minister Penny Wong, Defence Minister Richard Marles and their American and Japanese counterparts.

After the AUSMIN talks in Washington, the comments to the media by the two defence principals were more outspoken about the dangers posed by China than those made by the two foreign policy principals.

While the AUSMIN communiqué contained a lot more than defence-related material, media reporting inevitably focused more on the military aspects of the relationship with the US—particularly Australia’s acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines under the AUKUS pact and Japan’s inclusion in some trilateral activities in Australia—than on its other elements.

The best result in Washington did not emerge from the meeting itself, but from a speech by Wong to the Carnegie Endowment think tank. She spoke forthrightly of the current strategic challenges in the region. But she also alluded to the lack of enthusiasm there for great-power competition and the aversion of its members to being asked to take sides. Key messages were about the importance of assisting regional countries to build their resilience and of their having agency in decisions that affected them.

The meetings in Japan fleshed out the agreements reached by prime ministers Anthony Albanese and Fumio Kishida in their declaration on security cooperation in October. Importantly, there were extensive references in the communiqué to cooperation in the Pacific. There was no reference to Japan being associated with some of the technology-transfer aspects of AUKUS as had been suggested in Washington. The Japanese like to line up their ducks before making major statements.

These meetings in Washington and Tokyo took place after what was widely acknowledged as a successful and well-modulated round of meetings in November by Albanese at global and regional summits in Southeast Asia, including his meeting with Chinese President Xi Jinping, which restored an element of stability to our dealings with China.

However, the prominence of the deterrence aspects of our policies will inevitably remain pronounced as the defence strategic review headed by former defence and foreign minister Stephen Smith and former defence chief Angus Houston unfolds and while the submarine question looms large (one assumes for quite a while). A government cannot commit large sums of money to defence without copious comment as to why it is needed.

And there will be some overflow from the United States as the presidential electoral season with all its accompanying hype gets underway.

This emphasis on deterrence—and the jagged rhetoric that can accompany it—overshadows the importance of engagement and raises two major issues.

The first is obvious. We need a bit more emphasis on engagement with China and bit less on deterrence if we are to have a less contentious relationship with that country (accepting the need for Chinese reciprocity). Our own economic interests and indeed security interests are at stake here. Moreover, if we want the Chinese to conduct themselves less forcefully in the region, we at least must be able to readily talk to them.

Second, we have already lifted the level and quality of our engagement with Southeast Asia. But we need to think harder about where American, Australian and, to a lesser extent, Japanese deterrence policies leave Southeast Asia—the most important area of Sino-American competition.

At least four significant Southeast Asian nations—Indonesia, Malaysia and, more privately, Thailand and Singapore—don’t much like AUKUS and are lukewarm on the Quad.

But this is not the predominant issue for them. The bigger worry for Southeast Asia is that American approaches to Taiwan—with which we and Japan are associated—could provoke hostilities with China.

For the most part, the Southeast Asians don’t see a Chinese attack on Taiwan as likely, at least in the near or medium term. However, this view would change rapidly if the talk in some circles in America of abandonment of the policy of strategic ambiguity (avoiding a categorical commitment to defend Taiwan) or even forgoing the one-China policy, became a reality.

There is also concern in much of Southeast Asia—and indeed elsewhere—about American thinking on supply-chain decoupling and ‘friend-shoring’ or ‘ally-shoring’ (encouraging companies to shift manufacturing away from authoritarian states, mainly China, and towards friends and allies).

There are dangers here. Do we want to have a split in Southeast Asia between those whom the Americans favour and those whom they don’t (accepting a need to maintain pressure on Myanmar)? What do we do about friends such as Vietnam, or even India, whose internal policies many would disagree with?

As a middle power, we are not a prime mover in the region. But we have influence. Over the next year or so, we will be better able to exercise this influence if the importance of balance becomes a more significant factor in our thinking. Deterrence is all very well, but it should very clearly be just one element in a wider external strategy, not the strategy itself.

Old inequalities, new space? Women, peace and space security

Senior US Space Force officials visiting Australia have warned that a conflict in space in the next few years is a very real prospect. From Australia’s participation in the UN open-ended working group on reducing space threats, to the establishment of the Defence Space Command in January, space security is becoming an increasingly critical focus. To date, however, there’s been no overlap between Australia’s approach to space security and its commitments to international security through the UN women, peace and security (WPS) agenda. Why? And where are the women in space security?

To truly protect Australia’s interests and promote responsible behaviour in space, gender-sensitive and gender-inclusive space security is critical. Indeed, as one of us has argued, ‘[G]reater diversity is needed in the space sector, and this will only be achieved when women feel they are truly part of the structures and institutions that govern space.’ This is as important to Australia’s nascent but fast-developing space industry as it is to our security instruments and approach to space.

What does gender-inclusive space mean for Australia’s foreign-policy and national-security agencies? In short, Australia’s ultimate goals and outcomes in space can only be achieved by applying the lessons of the WPS agenda to international cooperation and collaboration in space, by addressing our current framework for foreign policy and national security, and by creating the kind of inclusive space sector we want for the future.

Australia is a signatory to the WPS agenda, first codified in 2000 by UN Security Council resolution 1325. The WPS agenda is underpinned by evidence that women’s participation is critical in preventing conflict and building and sustaining peace. There is increasing evidence that women’s participation in decision-making results in more durable peace agreements, increased trust and collaboration across political agendas, and more comprehensive and nuanced information gathering to better inform decision-making. In national security and intelligence, diversity reduces groupthink, increases the potential range of hypotheses and activities under consideration, and diversifies policy approaches.

The link between these issues and space security may not be obvious at first blush, but satellite services are integral to daily life, whether military or civilian, from telecommunications, financial transactions and the internet to navigation, disaster response, and weather and climate data. One indicator for political stability and peace is ensuring that girls and women have access to education and can independently participate in local economies. This requires access to the internet, telecommunications and other space-based technologies. Without a focus on gender considerations and representation in the space sector, as well as in the design of space missions, we risk excluding the interests and needs of girls and women, undermining peace and increasing the risk of conflict.

In Geneva, where UN arms control and security issues are negotiated, Australia is already known as a leader in advancing the WPS agenda. Australia has advocated for gender-neutral language in the Conference on Disarmament and works closely with regional partners on gender mainstreaming in all security issues, though we don’t hear much about it back home. One recent initiative that Australia led coincided with the September working group on reducing space threats. ‘For the benefit of all humankind: why space security needs gender perspectives’ was co-sponsored by the Philippines and the UN Institute for Disarmament Research and led to recommendations to ensure the use of gender-neutral language such as ‘piloted’ or ‘automated’ rather than ‘manned’ or ‘unmanned’ when referring to spacecraft; to ensure greater participation by women diplomats and decision-makers in space security negotiations; and to take into account the disproportionate impact on girls and women when space-based technologies are interrupted, interfered with or attacked in grey-zone and conflict situations. These show early examples of WPS principles in action in space security that could be further built on.

Given that Australia has now committed to a First Nations foreign policy agenda and evidences an increasingly ‘feminist’ foreign policy, integrating WPS principles and tools may benefit the space sector in many ways. Australia’s second WPS national action plan released in 2021 provides a legal and policy framework well suited to space security. The plan foreshadows the need to apply WPS to emerging and cross-cutting issues like climate change, health pandemics and violent extremism. Space security fits strongly within these lines of approved and resourced policy action, and there’s an opportunity for Australia to take a lead on explicit application of the WPS agenda to space Security.

Potential WPS mechanisms include engaging in consultations and co-design with those who benefit from a stable space environment and responsible space governance; ensuring basic targets are met regarding women, First Nations communities and other key diversity groups; and embedding a gender perspective in space policy and programming. Joan Johnson-Freese and Sahana Dharmapuri note that adhering to and capitalising on existing international and national WPS commitments will provide another avenue in the global pursuit of a more stable and sustainable space environment.

If we take Australia’s defence and foreign policy white papers as guides, space security should follow a values-based international activity that advances Australian interests in maintaining a global rules-based order and protecting our democracy, freedoms, equality and our sovereignty. The mandate therefore already exists—the 2017 foreign policy white paper embeds gender equality as a critical element of foreign policy, stating that ‘Australia’s foreign policy pursues empowerment of women as a top priority’ and ‘gender inequality undermines global prosperity, stability and security’.

Ultimately, Australia is proud to have signed all five of the core space treaties, which only a small handful of nations have done. We also have a history of having been norms entrepreneurs in security issues in the past. Since we are now asserting ourselves as a serious space player, it is incumbent on us as a responsible space nation to be proactive about embedding gender perspectives and gender inclusivity domestically in our space sector and internationally in our diplomacy efforts on responsible behaviours in space. The WPS agenda may be one such avenue where we can gain traction in space security.

Flashy donations don’t pave the way to being Solomon Islands’ partner of choice

Solomon Islands is now more than 60 police vehicles and 60 semi-automatic rifles richer. In a demonstration of Prime Minister Manasseh Sogavare’s leverage of geostrategic competition, he squeezed in handover ceremonies from both Australia and China in one week. But the influx of kit has left lingering questions about the benefit of this equipment, including if sustainment costs aren’t supported. It leaves Australia in a tricky situation—how do we maintain our position as security partner of choice, manage strategic competition and ensure the best outcomes for the people of Solomon Islands?

It’s worth recalling how rapidly the Solomons’ relationship with the People’s Republic of China has changed. Honiara switched diplomatic recognition from Taipei to Beijing in 2019. Since then, the relationship has entered uncharted waters with the signing of a bilateral security agreement in March 2022 to enhance security cooperation. A Chinese police liaison team has trained a cohort of officers of the Royal Solomon Islands Police Force on riot control, using methods that would make Australia uncomfortable if they were used to quell civil unrest, particularly if Australian equipment were used in the process. In October, more RSIPF officers travelled to China for training.

It’s easy to see what Sogavare gets by playing Australia and China off against each other. He claims that the new vehicles and equipment—60 guns and 13 vehicles from Australia and two water cannon and 50 vehicles from China—are important for social and economic growth and for national sovereignty. But this is as much about protecting himself as it is the country—his own house was burned during the November 2021 Honiara riots, and his position as prime minister was jeopardised. Having lost faith in his security forces during the riots, he urgently wants to enhance their capabilities and have powerful friends to call on if civil disorder resumes.

Australia will have confronted some difficult questions before making this donation, which should be seen in the context of longstanding policy and not simply as a response to Chinese moves in the region. Rearmament of the RSIPF has been an ongoing collaboration with the Australian Federal Police since the Regional Assistance Mission to Solomon Islands ended in 2017. The historical basis for Australia working with the RSIPF doesn’t fully mitigate our concerns today, but Canberra would have done some due diligence. The Australian government would have been mindful of the misuse of police weapons and unprofessional police conduct during Solomon Islands’ ethnic tensions (1999–2004)—the reason most of the RSIPF is currently unarmed.

On balance, Australia’s donation to the RSIPF’s police response team was probably conducted as responsibly as it could have been. This group already holds weapons—albeit a lesser calibre than this most recent delivery—and have all been trained by Australia on how to use them. This matters, because Australian trainers combine technical skills with education on the appropriate, proportionate and lawful use of force, in line with international standards. While we can’t rely on the RSIPF to meet these standards all the time, we should be confident that officers trained by Australia will act with greater restraint than if China were training them in our stead.

Now the arms have been delivered, the pertinent question is what happens next. How do we sustain ongoing and healthy engagement with Solomon Islands in a way that truly supports its people, earns their trust and cements Australia as the security partner of choice?

Research conducted by ASPI’s International Cyber Policy Centre shows that many people in the Solomon Islands are concerned by the foreign donations to the country’s security services. In this case, their concerns are mainly about sustainability, misuse and government priorities, not whether the material comes from Australia or China.

Analysis of 264 Facebook comments on 12 posts sharing media content relating to the Chinese and Australian aid showed that Solomon Islanders hold three key concerns: how the equipment will be sustained, how the weapons might be used, and what the government’s priorities are. Of the comments, 117 had an identifiable issue with the aid delivered, while 56 were positive (Australia = 20, China = 15, Australia and China = 3 and Solomon Islands = 18), and 91 were neutral or unrelated. Thirty percent of comments with an identifiable issue raised concerns that vehicles wouldn’t be adequately fuelled or maintained, which would fail to improve the response capability of the RSIPF in the long term; 24% were concerned about police discipline and the use of weapons by police; and 19% called for greater investment in hospitals, medicine and road infrastructure, often in lieu of additional security equipment.

If Australia wants to improve its relationship with Pacific island countries, it needs greater awareness of the Pacific’s concerns—at the government and public levels. Canberra needs a positive working relationship with Honiara, whoever the government of the day may be, but also needs to address issues important to Solomon Islands citizens—something that China isn’t as adept at doing.

Sometimes, it’s a quick fix. Concerns about the amount of security aid in comparison to infrastructure and development aid is simply an issue of messaging. Australia has provided more than $2.6 billion in development aid to Solomon Islands since 2008. It is by far the largest contributing country in the Solomons and across the region. But many of these projects are ongoing and fade into distant memory in light of attention-grabbing security kit. Australia regularly provides Solomon Islands with fuel for previously gifted vessels through its long-running Pacific Maritime Security Program, demonstrating commitment to long-term usage and benefits.

Taking a moment to reiterate the effort and importance of Australia’s other aid during a handover ceremony or in an opinion piece in local media can remind Solomon Islanders of Australia’s long-term support for their country. Finding ways to share accessible infographics like Lowy’s Pacific aid map more widely might also help.

And for more controversial Australian assistance—such as the weapons recently provided—Canberra needs to make it clearer that it has thought about what it’s doing, and to explain how it will support the RSIPF and the Solomon Islands government to ensure the best possible outcomes for the country. In this instance, Australia should be demonstrating deep integration with the RSIPF—including ongoing training for professionalism and proper use of weapons and equipment and enhancing sovereign capabilities for maintenance and sustainment of equipment.

China’s security assistance to Solomon Islands is outside Australian control. But how Australia engages Solomon Islands with its security assistance determines our partnership. As a genuine partner seeking to enhance the capabilities and resilience of our Pacific neighbours, Australia needs to continue its security engagement with Solomon Islands with the full understanding that China will also provide assistance.

Regardless of Sogavare’s wish to enhance capabilities, Australia’s knowledge of and commitment to Solomon Islands’ requirements will avoid any appearance of Australia engaging for the wrong reasons. Australia won’t win by trying to provide the flashiest donations. But through ongoing support packages, engagement with police professionalism, and working with Solomon Islands to sustain equipment, Australia provides the value proposition that China can’t compete with.

Boosting cyber defences must be a top priority for Australia

Australia has been suffering a long death by a thousand cuts.

We’ve had cybercriminals slowly bleeding our companies by forcing them to pay ransoms. We’ve had nation states stealing our intellectual property, robbing future generations of prosperity. We’ve had escalating attacks on our information ecosystem, undermining the integrity of our democracy.

And we’ve had countries infiltrating our critical infrastructure, posing a latent threat that can be activated when needed. We’ve seen it happening and talked about it and taken some incremental measures to try to address the situation, but things have never seemed bad enough to warrant decisive action.

With war returning to Europe and the spate of high-profile cyber incidents here in Australia, has the situation finally become bad enough to act?

Consider the dramatic change in circumstances we’ve experienced. A year ago, Europeans would have proudly thought of themselves as living in a haven of peace.

Today, a plucky Ukraine is all that is protecting them from an even greater calamity on their continent and they are pondering the risk of nuclear war. In our own region, China’s president-for-life Xi Jinping has committed himself to a ‘no limits’ partnership with a Russian regime that stands for the complete rejection of established international borders.

In case anyone was in any doubt about the risks China poses in our region, the outgoing head of the Australian Secret Intelligence Service, Paul Symon, gave a very rare public speech this month warning that there were some ‘very alarming signs’ in Asia and the Indo-Pacific.

On the prospect of war, he said that ‘history won’t be kind to us if we’re underprepared’ and that it would be hard to be ‘overprepared for conflict’.

Beyond the threat posed by authoritarian states willing to destroy the international order, there’s also a persistent threat from cybercriminals, the human parasites of the 21st century.

The damage they can cause has reached absurd proportions. The recent Optus hack saw what could be a single criminal threaten around half the adult Australian population with the spectre of identity fraud.

The Medibank data theft was just as big and involved the release of information that for some customers might be so sensitive that it could be life-threatening.

With the head of Australia’s secret intelligence agency imploring us to be ‘overprepared for conflict’ as we witness single individuals hold half the population hostage and rogue regimes upend the global order, we have finally reached a point where decisive action is both required both for and by the public.

In this context, news that Minister for Home Affairs Clare O’Neil is preparing a new national cyber strategy is immensely timely.

The minister has been vocal in both calling out lax cybersecurity from companies that have been breached and telegraphing that she intends to take forceful action to ensure we are not the soft target we are at present. It’s action we should all embrace.

There are a multitude of things we can do now to better protect ourselves. The biggest challenges are company motivation to take action and governments’ ability to make tough decisions.

For example, to protect ourselves against ransomware gangs, the policy action most needed is to ban ransom payments (with very few exceptions). A ban would, in a very short period, see Australia abandoned as a target for ransomware gangs because they would be wasting time for no payoff.

As we’ve seen in the Medibank case—where the company refused to pay the ransom—this is not an easy decision to make. For a few months during the phase-in period, companies that are hit would need a lot of support to stay afloat as they work to overcome the attacks.

In some cases, like Medibank, highly sensitive records could be released. But the payoff of a ban would be a boon for citizens’ physical safety and privacy and save companies billions.

Protecting ourselves against nation states is tricker. They have more resources, are more determined, are more secretive, and target a broader breadth of organisations. State actors like China are targeting the private sector and academia (for example, to steal intellectual property) as well as government.

But we can still do a lot more to harden our defences. After the Optus and Medibank attacks, there should not be a board in Australia that isn’t actively interrogating its cybersecurity posture and whether it has a suitable level of cybersecurity expertise represented among its directors.

Because even if the prospect of having the company brand trashed is insufficient motivation, there is every prospect they will be called on to do more to secure themselves in the coming months and years, as the minister is foreshadowing.

But there’s also a need for government intervention to align incentives. At present, a company that has data stolen by a nation state, instead of a cybercriminal, might see it as a bonus because the nation-state actor won’t ask them to pay a ransom. But the damage to the national interest from the data theft could be far worse than anything a cybercriminal might do with the data or charge for it.

The incentives for companies and universities to protect some sensitive datasets of use to nation states are not yet adequate.

Then there is government uplift. Report after report from the national auditor shows that federal government departments are not match fit for protecting critical government data from cyberattackers. Fixing government security is going to be very expensive and require the government to send the very clear message to department heads that this is a top priority.

For government (and industry), cybersecurity should be made a leadership responsibility, just like all other aspects of organisational culture through which performance is judged and for which there are real consequences for negligence.

As we enter this extremely challenging security environment, cybersecurity is going to take on even greater importance. Failure to put in place protections for citizens wouldn’t be tolerated in other fields of security, so why should we continue to excuse inaction in cyberspace?

We must seize the opportunity presented by this challenge to make some tough and bold decisions.

Australia’s extraordinary budget windfall could presage a painful return to earth

Treasurer Jim Chalmers may talk about the tough times that Australia confronts, but the fine print of his budget papers reveals the extraordinary bounty which the global energy crisis is delivering to the federal budget and the Australian economy at large.

Since the budget handed down by the previous government in March, Treasury has upgraded its estimates of the revenue that the government will receive this year by an extraordinary $57.3 billion, thanks to unanticipated improvements in the economy. Most of this comes from higher company taxes generated by resource exports.

What makes this all the more remarkable is that in that last budget, only seven months ago, Treasury had already upgraded its estimates of revenue this year by $39.5 billion from the estimate it made four months previously in the budget update released in December last year.

That mid-year update had itself added $21.6 billion to the revenue forecast made in the May budget last year. And, you guessed it, last year’s budget had already upgraded its estimate of 2022–23 revenue by $19.4 billion.

These are all described in the budget papers as ‘parameter variations’ and reflect improvements in the economy—mostly higher commodity prices—rather than government decisions.

Adding it up, the cumulative improvement in budget revenue this year is a phenomenal $137.8 billion or about 22% since the end of 2020. True, this followed what proved to be unduly pessimistic forecasts for the impact of Covid-19 in 2020, but total revenue this year is still expected to be $68 billion or 12.6% ahead of what Treasury anticipated in December 2019, before the pandemic.

Not many countries enjoy this kind of bonanza, handed to them on a plate. For most countries, the prices they receive for their exports are much the same from one year to the next. The price of nearly everything is going up at the moment, but, in general, the prices of manufactured goods and services are not subject to big swings between boom and bust, as are commodities.

For most countries, improvements in the returns they get from their exports, relative to what they must pay for their imports, have to come from gains in productivity. Countries (and companies) can only achieve greater profits from their exports if they achieve greater efficiency. Improvements in productivity are hard won: gains of 1% or 2% a year are about as much as can be expected in a well-performing economy. Over the past five years, Australia’s productivity performance (using the broadest measure of productivity) has been a dismal 0.35% growth a year, but average export prices have more than doubled in this time.

The spiralling price of energy may be a crisis for households and manufacturers around the world, but it is a windfall for energy exporters. Among the handful of significant economies in this fortunate position are the United States, Russia, Saudi Arabia and Norway.

The breakdown of relations among this foursome is a large part of the reason why energy prices are soaring. Russia has unilaterally cut exports of gas to Europe, while the US and Europe, along with much of the advanced world, are imposing economic sanctions that affect Russia’s energy exports.

The US is trying to make the most of the shortfall in Russian supplies to the market by boosting its own shale-derived oil and gas exports. The US’s emergence as a net exporter of energy means it is a competitor of rather than a customer for Saudi Arabia, which is instead forging common cause with Russia. As for Norway—a founding NATO member—it is having to focus on the threat of sabotage to its energy infrastructure from its neighbour, Russia.

Australia sits gloriously remote from this miasma and has no geopolitical agenda. It is simply raking in the money. While China may order discriminatory bans on Australian commodities that are illegal under World Trade Organization rules, Australia has made no move to retaliate and is content to keep shipping as much liquefied natural gas, iron ore and any other commodities that China will accept as it can.

No other economy has had such a sustained run of good fortune as Australia. It has enabled governments to introduce the National Disability Insurance Scheme, increase aged care funding, boost the share of GDP spent on defence to 2% and cut taxes. There are inevitably calls for the government to spend yet more, but there is danger ahead.

The key economic measure is the ‘terms of trade’, which compares the price received for exports with the price paid for imports. It is measured as an index. A rising terms of trade adds to national income.

For most of Australia’s history, the index measure has hovered at around 60 points. There have been brief spikes to 70 or 80 points, during the nickel boom in the 1960s and through the commodity boom that accompanied the oil crisis in the early 1970s. There was a slump to around 50 points in 1986–87—when then-treasurer Paul Keating proclaimed that Australia would become a ‘banana republic’ unless it tackled its balance-of-payments deficit.

But starting in the early 2000s, the terms of trade started climbing to unprecedented heights, as Australia became the supplier of choice for the extraordinarily resource-intensive burst of growth in China. The terms of trade surpassed 100 points in 2008, as the resource boom peaked ahead of the global financial crisis, and then rose further to reach 120 points in 2011. It slipped back to 80 points by 2016, but has since zoomed back past 120 points, or around double the long-term average.

To get a sense of what that means in dollars, Australia’s exports in the past 12 months were $550 billion. If the terms of trade index went back to its long-term average, that would strip about $275 billion of annual income out of the economy. The federal budget would lose around $90 billion.

How likely is that? Treasury is in fact forecasting a big fall in Australia’s export commodity prices. By March next year, it assumes prices for a tonne of iron ore will drop from US$91 to US$55, for steel-making coal from US$271 to US$130, for thermal coal (for power stations) from a hard-to-believe current price of US$438 to US$60 and for LNG from US$934 to US$630.

The budget anticipates the terms of trade dropping back to around 95 points next year. That’s still about 50% higher than the long-term average. Treasury comments that the war in Ukraine may prolong the boom in energy prices while the downturn in China may depress iron ore prices.

Historically, the terms of trade has always reverted to somewhere around its long-term average of 60 points. Until the China boom came along in the early 2000s, it was often said that Australia’s terms of trade was destined for a long-term decline. As mining became more capital intensive, costs per tonne would fall and prices would follow. On the other hand, it was expected that an increasing share of income would be spent on ever more sophisticated and expensive manufactured goods and high-cost services.

The China boom turned that logic on its head—the world did not have enough resources readily available to meet China’s ravenous demand, so more marginal and higher cost resources had to be tapped, pushing resource prices higher across the board. China’s unrivalled scale, on the other hand, meant the cost of manufactured goods fell.

It’s too soon to say definitively that the China boom is over, but it looks entirely possible, as the property boom that fuelled its meteoric growth deflates. There’s a risk that Australia’s terms of trade will drop back towards its long-term average, with the prices of the commodities we export returning to their traditional relationship with the manufactured goods we import.

Geopolitics may keep energy prices higher for longer, but there would be a hangover and some very hard decisions if the Chinese punchbowl were whisked away.

Defence budget shows the government is keeping its powder dry—for now

The Albanese government just released its first budget, but it’s the second one for 2022–23. In this article I’ll focus on what’s changed between the March budget (B1) and the October one (B2). The key takeaway is that the government is keeping its powder dry on defence spending until it hears back from the strategic review it has commissioned. The review’s independent leads, former Australian Defence Force chief Angus Houston and former defence and foreign minister Steven Smith, have been instructed to work out what the Australian Defence Force should look like as we enter an era of uncertainty and strategic competition—and to tell the government what it will cost.

Until then, the government is sticking with the defence funding line it inherited from the previous government. That was itself an artefact created for the 2016 defence white paper. It’s well past time to revisit that funding line, but we’ll have to wait until March when the strategic review’s report is due to see whether the government is willing to do that. So, for now, the defence budget is in a holding pattern with little difference between B1 and B2.

But there are a few developments of interest in B2 below the top-level stasis. First, there are the mandatory adjustments to compensate for the plummeting Australian dollar. The foreign exchange adjustment is a surprisingly (to me, at least) small $382.3 million in 2022–23, but that grows to more than $1 billion by 2025–26, the last year of the budget’s forward estimates. When you are the fourth biggest arms importer in the world, a weak Aussie dollar brings a lot of pain.

That’s the main increase, but there are also decreases. Defence must find $144.6 million in ‘savings from external labour and savings from advertising, travel and legal expenses’. At only 0.3% of the department’s budget, that’s nowhere near the most challenging efficiency dividend it’s ever had to deliver.

But that comes on top of paying back $113.3 million in ‘no win – no loss’ supplementation for operations it was overpaid for last year. It’s also had to absorb another $98 million in support to Ukraine on top of 2021–2022’s $87.6 million, although most of this appears to be ‘in kind’ rather than cash. In fact, there’s about $250 million in various measures, including transfers to other departments, that Defence has to absorb over the forward estimates. It’s certainly nowhere near the $3.6 billion over the forward estimates that it had to provide to the Australian Signals Directorate for the REDSPICE program in B1, but it all adds up.

When all adjustments are taken into account, B2’s consolidated defence spending (the Department of Defence and the Australian Signals Directorate combined) is $48,699.7 million. That’s only $84.7 million more than B1’s despite the $382.2 million foreign exchange increase. That means B1 and B2 are virtually identical in all the key cost categories of workforce, acquisition, sustainment and operating. However, because GDP predictions have increased dramatically by around 8%, Defence spending as a percentage of GDP has fallen from 2.11% in B1 to 1.96% in B2.

That gets us to the nub of the problem for Defence. A key factor behind that increase in GDP is inflation which is running hot. When the 2016 white paper funding line was developed, planners assumed annual inflation of 2–2.5%. In 2020–21 it was somewhat higher at 3.8%. It jumped to 6.1% last year and the budget papers predict 5.75% this year. So while B2’s funding line is a 7.1% increase on 2021–22 in nominal terms, once we take inflation into account, it may be around 1% in real terms. That translates into billions of dollars of lost buying power.

Of course, Defence doesn’t bear the full, immediate brunt of inflation—its employees don’t get automatic pay raises with every adjustment to CPI, for example. But the optimistic predictions in the last two budgets of inflation quickly returning to normal have been replaced by B2’s view of high inflation until at least 2023–24. It’s hard to see Defence being able to afford the ambitious acquisition program in its force structure plan with its budget stagnating in real terms. And while one of the government’s key aims in the budget was to address cost of living pressures on Australians, Defence is getting no relief from the corrosive effects of inflation. At some point, this will have an impact on capability—and that’s before we contemplate anything new out of the strategic review.

For those who follow Defence capability there are a few points of interest in B2’s top 30 acquisition projects. There’s the usual mix of projects spending more or less than planned for the year. The Boxer combat reconnaissance vehicle, Hunter-class frigate and offshore patrol vessel projects are spending more than predicted in B1. Generally that’s a good thing; if you are spending money, you are getting work done. In contrast, the F-35A and the MC-55A Peregrine aircraft projects are spending less. The Peregrine’s first in-service flying hours have slid by a year, as have the Triton uncrewed aerial vehicle’s.

A number of new projects appear in the top 30, including Abrams tanks and Apache attack helicopters. While we haven’t heard much about the MQ-28A Ghost Bat since its first flight early last year, it now appears in the top 30 with an encouraging explanatory note that states ‘during 2022–23, the project will continue to mature the Generation 2 MQ-28 design and begin manufacture’.

SEA 1000, the Attack-class submarine, was in B1’s top 30 even though it had been cancelled, and has now gone from B2, but there’s nothing there to say what the final cost was. When we add up the project itself, cancellation payments, earlier phases of the program and funds spent on the shipyard, it could well be $4 billion.

There’s also another example of new capabilities being approved and acquired with no public announcement, although it’s not clear which government approved it. Apparently Defence is acquiring an ‘undersea support vessel’ for $155 million. B2 notes ‘this project seeks to deliver a Navy capability to support trials and integration of undersea warfare and surveillance systems.’ There’s nothing of this name in the 2020 force structure plan. Presumably it is part of the ‘integrated undersea surveillance system’ mentioned in that document. Since the full $155 million is being spent this year, one can only assume we are buying an existing ship. That’s probably why there was no announcement; as was the case with the Pacific support vessel, ships that aren’t built in Australian shipyards show up with little fanfare.

Finally, a thought about the situation looming in March when both the strategic review and the nuclear-powered submarine taskforce are set to report their findings. The government has identified defence as an area requiring additional spending. But the competition for resources isn’t going to ease up: the National Disability Insurance Scheme, health and an ageing population all require substantial increases in funding, likely much more than defence will ever get. Meanwhile, the government’s fiscal position is still very challenging. It got a big revenue windfall this year, reducing the $78 billion deficit predicted in B1 to $36.9 billion. But for the remainder of the forward estimates, B2’s anticipated deficit is virtually the same as B1’s. Put another way, for the next three years, the government is borrowing an amount almost equivalent to the entire defence budget. Smith and Houston are unlikely to be given a blank cheque.

Australia should join the moratorium on anti-satellite missile tests

Tensions have been rising in outer space in recent years, leading to a covert arms race and what some perceive as the brink of space warfare. Space-based technologies such as communications satellites are an integral part of people’s daily lives and are key strategic assets for military and intelligence operations.

The first Gulf War in the 1990s is often referred to as the first space war because of the asymmetric advantage that space-based navigation, targeting, communications and intelligence gave to the US-led coalition. Modern militaries depend as much on space as they do on cyber technologies. The best way to compromise an adversary’s eyes and ears is to target its space capabilities.

Space has become a contested strategic domain and if an armed conflict were to extend there, it would be catastrophic for millions of civilians because of the extent to which global civil services also depend on space.

The UN open-ended working group on reducing space threats held its second session in Geneva last week. The establishment of the working group followed decades of roadblocks on striving for space arms control. Its shift to articulating norms of responsible behaviour rather than trying to define what capabilities or weapons should be prohibited is a valuable and hopeful one. It may be easier for states to agree on bottom-line behaviours that are irresponsible, such as the deliberate creation of space debris, which poses threats to all space assets.

Last year, Russia destroyed one of its own satellites using a surface-launched anti-satellite missile, or ASAT. This wasn’t the first such incident; over the past several years, China, the US and India have each destroyed their own satellites in space. The Russian test was notable for creating thousands of pieces of debris, putting at risk Russian and other nations’ space-based assets as well as the Russian, American and German crew aboard the International Space Station.

Developing space norms may have obvious beneficial outcomes, yet many nations are still stuck in a ‘prisoner’s dilemma’ pursuing their own interests to the detriment of all, including themselves. The main thrust of the prisoner’s dilemma is that each party is unaware of and incapable of knowing what the other will do, creating an environment of mistrust that prevents cooperation and encourages self-interest, even if it leads to disadvantageous outcomes for all parties.

This has been at the heart of a security dilemma in space. Various governments’ establishment of military space branches, for example, has been justified by the threats posed by perceived malign actors, further raising the risk of more counterspace capabilities threatening the technologies we all depend on.

The prisoner’s dilemma could be countered by shifting the perspective towards a ‘stag hunt’. A hunter can hunt a hare by themselves without help, but hunting a stag is more lucrative. However, a successful stag hunt requires cooperation with another hunter. In our case, achieving agreed space norms represents the stag, requiring cooperation among all nations.

In April, timed to coincide with the UN working group’s first meeting, the US announced a unilateral commitment not to conduct destructive direct-ascent ASAT tests. On its own this was laudable, but more importantly it opened the door for others to follow suit. Canada and New Zealand joined the US with their own unilateral commitments. Last week, Japan and Germany announced similar commitments, highlighting that they don’t have and are not pursuing such capabilities in the hope of developing agreed space norms. And the US has announced that it will bring a draft resolution to the UN General Assembly calling on all states to make this commitment, a vote on which would resemble a real stag hunt.

Australia’s statement at last week’s working group meeting indicated strong support for this initiative, saying that ‘intentional, reckless or negligent generation of long-lived debris fields [is] a significant threat to the space domain’ and noting the importance of the US commitment not to test destructive direct-ascent ASATs. The Australian government’s commitments to addressing climate change, to ensuring regional stability and to increasing sovereign capabilities would all be served by joining this stag hunt to make space more stable, secure and sustainable. It now needs to move to the full commitment not to conduct such tests.

The countries that have made this commitment are key space partners for Australia. The Australian Defence Force’s newly established space command is in a similar position to the military space branches in these partner countries, and it must seek opportunities to shape the development of agreed space norms. Committing to a moratorium on destructive direct-ascent ASAT tests would expand the coalition working towards an agreed set of space norms. It would allow Australia to become a regional leader along with New Zealand and help reduce escalating tensions in space.

The US government has recently made a start on formalising the framework for responsible military norms in its space policy. Aggressive language has been removed from internal Pentagon documents to signal to allies, partners and adversaries that it is willing to cooperate to achieve agreed norms of behaviour in space. Space-faring nations need to remain vigilant about the language used in their space strategies and doctrines to support the stability of space as an operational domain.

To establish an agreed set of space norms, space-faring nations must view space like other complex social environments. Treating it as a prisoner’s dilemma will be detrimental to all. Australia has a big role to play, starting with collaborating with other states in agreeing to a moratorium on destructive direct-ascent ASAT tests. There are precedents for such an agreement, starting with the laws of armed conflict, which were developed incrementally over time.

Declaring a moratorium on destructive direct-ascent ASAT tests is another step along this long journey for the benefit of all, and is something Australia should express without hesitation, in the coming weeks or months, to be among the global leaders in shaping norms.

Should governments buy into blockchain-enabled infrastructure?

Governments will always be outpaced by technological innovation. The internet, or more broadly cyberspace, is a unique domain that governments have yet to successfully navigate as they have with land, sea, air and space. It was the first technology to mature into an intangible commodity that couldn’t be manufactured, distributed and regulated in the traditional sense.

There’s growing evidence that current policy strategies don’t work with cyber and, more specifically, with blockchain technology. Blockchain is creating an unbreakable, enduring and largely permissionless system that negates the traditional foundations of trust that government authorities and large corporations provide. Key to understanding this phenomenon is that, while blockchain technology is closely associated with decentralised finance and cryptocurrency, its utility extends beyond those arenas.

IBM defines blockchain technology as ‘a shared, immutable ledger that facilitates the process of recording transactions and tracking assets in a business network’. The fundamental innovation of blockchain is that it enables a peer-to-peer network with a shared history of messages and no central authority. A blockchain message content can be anything a network agrees is valid and can even include program installation and execution messages.

Governments need to recognise that their traditional strengths and regulatory capabilities are not as effective in this digitalised world. Instead, they are increasingly reliant on private-sector innovation to protect national interests. Simultaneously, the private sector is becoming less dependent on governments. This operational shift is occurring as strategic global power competition overshadows a realistic assessment of these changes and their implications.

Blockchain is enabled by a network of nodes that crosscheck and verify information and operates as a distributed ledger that is a constantly growing record of all transactions. The technology enables high transparency without compromising anonymity. Stored data cannot be altered or deleted—all information can be traced and verified as true and accurate by the user community. Crypto wallets, for example, allows users to remain largely anonymous without compromising the integrity of transactions. Smart contracts are protocols run on the blockchain to ensure transactions occur with certainty when predetermined conditions are met.

Central to understanding the long-term implications of blockchain technology is that the network can’t be broken or taken down by a single authority. It would take an event affecting the operation of the internet globally for it to cease working, something that is highly unlikely.

These functions of blockchain technology have facilitated the creation of hyperstructures, defined as ‘crypto protocols that can run for free and forever, without maintenance, interruption or intermediaries’. Hyperstructures fundamentally challenge the traditional role of governments, multinational corporations and critical national infrastructure providers because these services and platforms can be operated and maintained without them.

The permanence of hyperstructures also affects how some public goods are created, maintained and owned. A hyperstructure typically functions as a decentralised autonomous organisation, or DAO—a legal structure with no governing body. Ownership and decision-making are shared by the DAO’s members, which make decisions benefiting the community at large as opposed to individual interests.

There is huge potential for hyperstructures to operate as a public good in the form of a digital backbone for critical national infrastructure such as water-processing plants, power plants and other utility providers. Hyperstructures limit the risk of human error and cyberattack and remove the onus of responsibility and ownership from a single provider by functioning as a DAO. These facilities can operate independently and perpetually.

While the technology is still in its infancy, hyperstructures demonstrate the potential that blockchains hold for social, political and economic organisation by changing the currency of trust. Trust enables reliable, effective and truthful exchanges in society and is often facilitated by an intermediary such as a government body or a corporation. Trust has not always been guaranteed by governments.

For example, the Soviet Union’s failure to provide adequate trust in its institutions gave rise to an effective mafia culture. Criminal organisations were able, through brute force and protection services, to ensure alternative avenues of trust in economic, political and social exchanges where the state failed. Now, although trust in states is not necessarily failing, blockchain and hyperstructures offer an alternative. However, while the continuity of the mafia’s success in the Soviet Union couldn’t be guaranteed, the enduring, permissionless and unstoppable features of blockchain technology are ensured. This reflects a shifting balance of power between the public and private sectors.

The popular non-fungible-token (NFT) marketplace Zora is an example of a functioning hyperstructure that has been used to influence global events. In March 2022, an NFT of the Ukrainian flag was auctioned by social advocates, including the Russian protest group Pussy Riot, using the Zora marketplace in aid of the Ukraine crisis. The NFT sale raised €6 million. The auction couldn’t be stopped by participants, adversaries or Zora administrators. The event illustrates how instantaneously the technology can be used to achieve a goal without the need for intermediaries, such as governments, to support or facilitate the allocation of funds or aid. The funds were then able to be directly and transparently traced to their intended recipient.

Blockchain’s ability to enable trust in the authenticity and provenance of information is used by organisations such as Starling Lab, which captures, stores and verifies information. Its research and experimentation ensure ongoing trust of digital information. Starling Lab has used the technology to document and secure the integrity of digital evidence of Russian war crimes in Ukraine. That the public can use blockchain to hold states accountable demonstrates how the technology is likely to lessen reliance on government to validate and provide trust.

The same principles are applied by the Decentralised Identity Foundation, which uses blockchain to develop protocols enabling individuals to be securely and accurately identified without the need for a centralised system or authority. The successful application of these protocols could even reduce reliance on governments to provide items such as drivers’ licences and passports to authenticate personal information, if a digital identity is equally as trusted.

The Decentralised Identity Foundation’s concept involves a singular digital identity interoperable among service providers and organisations, reducing the amount of personal data stored in individual profiles with each company. The digital identity can reliably plug in and out of their systems with trusted authenticity. Debates on data sovereignty and the security of personal information are set to be impacted by this concept, because blockchain would provide individuals with transparency about how their data is used.

These examples show how the private sector can use changes in public trust infrastructure to distance itself from government. Blockchain technology is transforming the way we store data, communicate it and control it. Being decentralised, it provides an alternative to the traditional role of the government and large corporations in providing trust between two agents.

Because blockchain is in its formative stages, there’s an opportunity for governments to consider how involved they want to be in shaping its development, domestically and globally. Canberra needs to consider buying into DAOs so it can interact effectively with public infrastructure and represent Australia’s broader security interests in governance structures. Without ownership in the DAOs’ governing hyperstructures, governments would have little ability to influence their operations. Practically, this would initially involve identifying hyperstructure projects that hold value for critical national infrastructure or are already being used by providers.

The government also needs to consider too whether actively engaging with decentralised infrastructure and governance systems aligns with the liberal democratic tenets of Australian policy. This opens an opportunity for discussion on how radically the government is willing to expand its regulatory toolbox.

The 2020 national blockchain roadmap outlines Australia’s preliminary investment in research to ‘capitalise on opportunities and address challenges’. However, this is a rapidly changing field, and the technology’s use during the Ukraine crisis demonstrates how quickly and ingeniously it can be adapted to meet different needs. How Canberra can be informed, active and creative during this period of innovation needs to be at the forefront of discussion. Regulation needs to be less short term and reactive, and instead should proactively consider the long-term relationship with the private sector.

Key to this is learning how to adapt to the shifting balance of power between the private sector and governments. Ultimately, as the mechanisms of social trust change, so too must the government’s outlook on its domestic and international capabilities and intentions.

Australia must do more to secure the cables that connect the Indo-Pacific

In January, the UK’s defence chief, Tony Radakin, warned that Russian submarine and underwater activities were directly threatening subsea cable systems. There’s speculation that Russia could cut cables if it further escalates the war in Ukraine.

In July, the former head of Mauritius Telecom accused the country’s prime minister of having bypassed processes to grant access to a ‘technical team’ from India to install a device that would monitor internet traffic at the landing station of the South Africa Far East submarine cable at Baie Jacotet in Mauritius.

Closer to home, the president of the Federated States of Micronesia, David Panuelo, wrote to his fellow Pacific island leaders in May about the regional risks of the China – Solomon Islands security agreement, pointing out that the ‘bulk of Chinese research activity in FSM has followed our nation’s fibre optic cable infrastructure’.

In a recent paper, we argue that a comprehensive approach is required to address the resilience of undersea communications cables. There are more than 430 subsea cables that may be targets for anyone wishing to disrupt global connectivity. These cables transfer more than 95% of international communications and data globally. They are core critical infrastructure and underpin the internet, financial markets and digital economies.

All it takes to damage a cable is a merchant ship or fishing boat dropping its anchor on a cable not far from the coast. In January, an underwater volcano shattered Tonga’s internet infrastructure—a single cable connecting the archipelago to the global internet. It took five weeks to fix. Fishing and anchoring incidents account for approximately 70% of cable faults globally. Divers, submersibles or military grade drones could place explosives on the cables or install mines nearby, which could then be detonated remotely. Cable repair ships could be attacked.

Several nations in the Indo-Pacific operate submarines capable of stealthily tampering with cables, although it’s technically challenging to do and there are easier ways to obtain data. But cable-laying companies can potentially insert backdoors or install surveillance equipment. By hacking into network-management systems, attackers could control multiple cable-management systems. Terrorists and criminal organisations could exploit cable vulnerabilities for different purposes.

But the bigger threat is cable interference at data points or landing stations. Sydney and Perth are the primary points where cables land in Australia. Power could be cut to those sites or explosive devices detonated. Missile attacks are possible. Landing station locations are vulnerable because data can be intercepted and ‘mirrored’ (that is, copied while the sender and receiver are none the wiser).

While US, French and Japanese corporations have dominated the subsea cable market for many years, Chinese firm HMN Tech (formerly Huawei Marine Networks) now has a global market share of about 10%. Recognising China’s hunger for data, in 2021 the World Bank–sponsored East Micronesia Cable tender was cancelled for fears HMN Tech would win. Last year a consortium of companies including Google and Facebook ditched the Hong Kong conduit of the Pacific Light Cable Network due to data integrity concerns. It was to be a super-fast direct fibre-optic link between the US east coast and Hong Kong.

When it comes to the Pacific, Australia and its partners should continue to fund and co-fund cable projects to fend off Chinese-backed alternatives. This includes monitoring HMN Tech proposals and tenders and seeking to encourage and facilitate alternative suppliers where possible. In May, a draft maritime cooperation agreement between China and Solomon Islands was leaked. China’s goal, it stated, is to develop ‘a maritime community with a shared future’ by building wharves, shipyards and submarine cables for Solomon Islands.

Australia is already a part owner of the Coral Sea Cable Company, which connects Papua New Guinea and Solomon Islands to Australia. The Australian government also partnered in 2020 with Japan and the US to finance an undersea cable to Palau. More can be done together with these partners, as well as India, the UK and the EU, to fund and back new cables in the Pacific.

There’s no international treaty to protect against physical or cyberattacks on undersea cables, but at a national level Australia’s submarine cable protection regime is considered a regional gold standard. Australia’s Telecommunications Act 1997 declares ‘protection zones’ around cable routes, restricts potentially damaging activity, criminalises cable interference and requires permits to lay new cables. While each country’s geographic circumstances are different, promoting the adoption of similar legislation by Pacific island nations would better safeguard their vulnerable cables from accidental damage and breaks.

Australia can work with its Pacific partners to facilitate greater information sharing on threats to the undersea communications network and strengthen limited regional cable-repair capabilities. We should work with regional maritime agencies to integrate cable surveillance into national and regional maritime domain awareness systems and establish national registers for government and industry points of emergency contact on cable resilience. Should China ink more security deals with Pacific island nations, the battle to lay, operate and repair this critical infrastructure will intensify. We should prioritise cable diplomacy in the Pacific to safeguard this essential international public good.

The Australian government should also back the commitment made by the Northern Territory government to connect Australia to the trans-Pacific cable. Last year’s AUSMIN communiqué noted that both sides ‘welcomed the Northern Territory government’s commitment to connecting Australia to the trans-Pacific cable, which will enhance digital connectivity between Australia and the United States and support critical infrastructure in the Indo-Pacific’.

The mooted branch line to Darwin would cost around $100 million. It would be the only undersea cable connecting the US to Singapore with a national-security-rated capability that doesn’t transit the South China Sea. It’s a secure, low-latency, high-speed data link to the US and Asia. Building a connecting branch to Darwin would be a vital enabler for the Australian Defence Force, for national security more broadly and for digital access to Southeast Asia’s fast-growing market of 680 million people.

Despite the boom in undersea communications cables, Antarctica is the sole remaining continent without fibre-optic communications connectivity. But there’s now bold talk by the Australian Bureau of Meteorology of running a subsea data cable connecting the Mawson, Davis and Casey stations on the Antarctic continent, and the Macquarie Island research station, to Tasmania. Such a connection would pose challenges, mainly in the form of icebergs. But if it went ahead, it would provide unprecedented speed of communications and reliability and strengthen Australia’s position in our geopolitically contested southern flank.

And in the near future it won’t just be undersea communications cables and infrastructure that will require protection. As we push ahead on clean energy, we’ll see more undersea transnational electricity cable connections to solar farms and offshore wind farms, with significant environmental and energy security benefits. Infrastructure Australia recently provided its endorsement for the economic benefits of the Australia–Asia PowerLink project. Commencing in 2024, it would export solar power from the Northern Territory to Singapore via a 4,200-kilometre submarine cable from Darwin and provide up to 15% of Singapore’s power supply. The Indonesian government has already approved the cable route and granted a permit to conduct subsea surveys in Indonesian waters to map the underwater route to Singapore.

Can Australia get nuclear-powered submarines this decade?

In 2009, Kevin Rudd’s government decided to increase Australia’s submarine capability. It wrote in its defence white paper: ‘The Government will increase the size of the submarine force from six to 12 boats. The doubling in size of the submarine fleet recognises that Australia will face a more challenging maritime environment in the decades ahead.’ The goal was to start getting new boats by around 2025.

While the precise numbers, the preferred design and the timelines have changed over the past 13 years, no Australian government has walked back from the basic assessment that we need more submarine capability. But even though subsequent strategic assessments have emphasised that our ‘more challenging maritime environment’ is becoming more dangerous even more rapidly than we had expected, we’re still no closer to having more submarine capability.

When the previous government announced in September 2021 that Australia would acquire nuclear-powered submarines (SSNs), it said it expected the first ones to be delivered in the late 2030s. Richard Marles, the minister for defence in the new government, has said the mid-2040s is more likely. Throughout that long period, Australia’s submarine capability will continue to comprise two deployable Collins-class submarines—the same capability we had back in 2009 when the long, meandering journey first started. It’s like saying on the eve of the First World War that you need more military power and not getting anything until after the Second.

We need to investigate every possible option to get more submarine capability sooner. Which brings us to the recent comments of Peter Dutton, former defence minister and current leader of the opposition. Despite being a member of the government that said we could expect the first SSNs in the late 2030s, Dutton now says he had a ‘plan’ to acquire two US Virginia-class SSNs off an existing American production line by the end of this decade. A further eight boats would be built in Australia.

It’s not really a plan, since nobody involved in delivering it, least of all the US government, has signed up to it. So it’s an idea or a concept. But is it a good concept? At one level, we would say it is, because it’s virtually the same as one we discussed last year in our detailed study of the issues that the government needs to address in order to establish an SSN capability. We considered four build strategies. The third we termed ‘kickstarted continuous build’. Under that approach, the first SSN would be built wholly overseas, the second would be partially built overseas but integrated in Australia, and eight boats would be built here.

We noted that Australia could aim for 2030 for the first boat, with the second in the mid- to late 2030s. There were two key challenges. The first was that the US Navy would have to provide us with one of its own boats. The second was that it ‘would require … rapid development of the enabling systems to support the operation of the boat once it’s delivered’ and ‘an early ramp-up of the uniformed workforce’.

Let’s look at how that gels with the USN’s own plans. Congress requires the navy to publish its shipbuilding plan every year. Over the past several administrations, the goal has been to increase the number of SSNs. That’s because submarines are one of few assets the USN has that can avoid the Chinese military’s anti-access capabilities such as anti-ship ballistic missiles. The precise target number has varied, but it’s consistently been around 60 to 72 by the middle of the century.

In the shorter term, however, the USN is experiencing a submarine capability crunch. First, this decade the number of boats falls below 50, to as few as 46 in 2028, and it doesn’t get back to 50 until 2032. That’s because the older Los Angeles–class SSNs are retiring as their nuclear fuel runs out. The Los Angeles boats were delivered at around three per year and consequently are retiring at a similar rate. But for over a decade the USN was acquiring only one new Virginia-class boat per year. Now, after significant investment to improve the US’s industrial base, they are being delivered at two per year. But the USN is still playing catch-up.

Second, the capability shortfall is exacerbated by the planned retirement in the next few years of the USN’s four SSGNs, former ballistic missile submarines that have been converted to carry 154 Tomahawk missiles each. To compensate for the missile launch cells that are going out of service, the latest batch of Virginias, the Block V variant, have a hull-lengthening ‘plug’ inserted that will increase their number of Tomahawks from 12 to 40. But since they also need to account for the 12 Tomahawks on each of the retiring Los Angeles boats, they won’t completely compensate for the SSGNs.

There’s been discussion in the US about expanding its industrial base to produce more SSNs. That’s not straightforward. The USN has stated it would take investments of US$1.5–2 billion to do that and require an increased workforce. The USN’s shipbuilding plan is already facing affordability pressures. Moreover, the USN has also started construction on a new class of ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs), which are its highest priority, and the competition for resources is causing delays to the Virginias.

There have been suggestions that Australia could help pay to set up a third production line. But even if we made those investments today, they wouldn’t produce any additional boats this decade. It’s currently taking US yards seven or eight years to build an SSN (even before we factor in the delays in production of Block V boats). The last boats scheduled for delivery in the 2020s—the boats in the Hellyer–Nicholls/Dutton concept—have in fact already started construction. So even if we helped invest in developing more construction capacity in the US, it would likely be close to the mid-2030s by the time they could deliver any additional boats beyond those currently planned by the USN.

In short, for Australia to get any US SSNs this decade, the USN would have to give up some of the boats baked into its own plans at a time when it needs every single one it can get to stop any further decline in boat or missile numbers.

That’s before we get to the second challenge: the rapid ramp-up of the enabling systems. As we and others have written, there are many other elements to an SSN capability than the boats. Vice Admiral Jonathan Mead, the head of the nuclear submarine task force, has emphasised that Australia will need to demonstrate that it can exercise ‘responsible stewardship’ of the nuclear technologies. This will require a larger uniformed workforce, which will require substantially different qualifications. A Collins-class submarine has one engineer-qualified officer; all 15 officers on a Virginia are nuclear-qualified. It will also require the maintenance infrastructure as well as the safety and regulatory ecosystems. That takes time.

Does that mean we have no hope of accelerating an SSN capability? We’ll look at what can be done in the next post.