Tag Archive for: Force Structure

Small, agile, deadly: the US Marine Corps and future war

The US Marine Corps is dramatically increasing its relevance to the war fighting capability of the United States. As the world lurches into an age of renewed strategic competition, the Marine Corps understands that it must be at the forefront of innovation in high-intensity warfare.

In 2020, it announced Force Design 2030, a major initiative for this decade. The initiative anticipates future war and forces the Marine Corps to restructure itself, placing a deliberate emphasis on expeditionary warfare.

A central concept in the reorganisation is moving small, hard-to-detect units rapidly by sea to islands—or small parts of islands—that are close to the enemy. Those highly mobile units, requiring little support, would use advanced weapons to challenge the enemy’s use of nearby sea and air space.

Beyond becoming a more capable and lethal fighting force, the Marines get a new sense of strategic relevance from the new ideas. As the US shifts to confront newly emergent peer threats, such as China, the need for a rapid-reaction aggressive Marine Corps will only grow, especially when one considers how quickly adversaries can aggregate force and execute operations. The Marine Corps must be agile and deadly.

New ideas about the structure of the force and force employment point to a healthy evolution of Marine Corps thinking around future wars and what will be essential to fight them. These innovations are aimed at enhancing operational agility and multi-domain capabilities to bolster the Marine Corps’ lethality and provide the US with a menu of combat options in an unpredictable threat ecosystem.

The Marine Corps is responding to shifting US strategic priorities in four main ways. First, it is working towards returning to its traditional mission set and enhancing its ability to execute naval expeditionary missions. For the past three decades, Fleet Marine Forces have acted as a second army and moved away from their traditional amphibious missions.

Second, competition is driving the Marine Corps to innovate and adapt its operational concepts, as shown by the emergence of expeditionary advanced base operations—sending forces to temporary locations close to the enemy.

Third, strategic competition necessitates rapid global engagement and presence. The Marine Corps plays an important role in establishing forward bases and conducting joint exercises with allies and partners to deter aggression and reassure friendly nations.

Fourth, realignment prioritises capabilities that are essential for success in high intensity engagements, such as anti-ship operations and expeditionary advanced base operations. Because it understands these dynamics, the Marine Corps can effectively prepare for the challenges posed by great-power rivals.

Transforming the Marine Corps is making it much more technologically capable and lethal while divesting it of old categories of equipment. Planning guidance emphasises capability development and pushes the service to invest in unmanned systems, advanced air defence and long-range precision strike.

These capabilities are intended to increase the range and lethality of deployed Marine combat units while enabling dispersal and distributed operations. The enemy isn’t presented with a large formation as a target.

Advanced technologies will enhance the capability of the units, and the overall concept reflects the need for constant adaptability in future war. This is a challenge that an already innovative force is well placed to meet.

A principal element of this evolution is the development of Marine Littoral Combat Regiments (MLR). MLRs are designed to fight and win against a major enemy in a littoral environment. Unlike a traditional rifle regiment, an MLR incorporates an anti-air battalion, a combat logistics battalion and a marine rifle battalion; it’s also reinforced with an anti-ship missile battery.

The transformation of the Marine Corps underscores its role as the US’s premier rapid-reaction force and enhances its ability to cope with and defeat unpredictable modern threats, military or otherwise.

In addition, new MLRs help the Marine Corps to execute operations in a more agile and modular way. They are designed so constituent units as small as platoons—hard to detect and requiring modest supply volumes—can be deployed separately. Commanders can use units with such small footprints more flexibly. This optimises the strengths of the Marine Corps and its new weapons systems while mitigating the potential weaknesses of larger formations.

The Marine Corps is breathing new life into its operational concepts and technologies. The force design initiative emphasises operational agility and multi-domain capabilities, ensuring that the Marine Corps can contribute strongly to defeating a major adversary.

The Adams-class guided-missile destroyers and the RAN

From its origins in 1901 until the late 1950s, through its deep association with the Royal Navy, the Royal Australian Navy became unmistakably British in outlook, practices and culture. It was a relationship of great value to Australia. That comfortable symbiosis had reached its zenith by 1957, when Prime Minister Robert Menzies announced to parliament that Australia would be moving towards standardising Australia’s military services with those of the United States.

The outcome of that decision was that the RAN would successfully transition to be a highly valued ally of the US Navy, already the RN’s replacement as the world’s most powerful maritime force. On that journey, the RAN progressively underwent a major transformation in virtually every dimension, the catalyst for which was its operation of the Charles F. Adams–class guided-missile destroyers.

By 1957, Australia’s government had a clear-eyed view that the nation’s security was much more closely linked with America than with Britain. The Cold War had started, and the threat of communist expansion in Asia was taken seriously. Indonesia was, for a while, regarded as a threat because of its alignment with the Soviet Union.

With the impending demise of its carrier-based aircraft in the early 1960s, the RAN needed an air-defence alternative to fighter planes and decided to acquire ships fitted with surface-to-air guided missiles. The navy’s leaders wanted an extensively modified RN County class. The British beam-riding Sea Slug would be replaced with the US Navy’s semi-active homing Tartar, and the Australian-designed Ikara anti-submarine missile system would be installed. One can only guess what the technical risk, cost and schedule implications would have been.

Fortunately for Australia, that solution didn’t fit with the government’s primary objective of having elements of its navy standardised with America’s navy for the lowest possible price to demonstrate its commitment to ANZUS and SEATO. The RAN had a Hobson’s choice: take the Adams-class guided- missile destroyers or get nothing. The US sold Australia two, and then a third (after Australia asked for it), which were named HMA Ships Perth, Hobart and Brisbane. It was the first time the US had sold its most modern warships to another country.

Soon after arriving in Australia, the Hobart joined the US 7th Fleet on combat operations in Vietnam; the Perth and Brisbane were also rotated in. The destroyers were manned by well-trained crews, with captains who were usually on at least their second command. They wore the RAN’s new white ensign and were unmistakably Australian—a distinction that mattered to both navies. That distinction and mutual respect, earned by a combination of high standards and skills, still underpins one of the great enduring naval associations of the modern era.

New methods of operational logistic support, weapons systems management, air defence, command and control and replenishment at sea were just some aspects of naval warfare brought back to the broader RAN from the destroyers’ experience in Vietnam. The RAN also adopted a much more intensive, multifaceted and independently assessed work-up regime in preparing its ships for deployment based on US Navy practices.

As the destroyers entered service in the mid-1960s, the US Navy was already introducing its digital combat system and had started work on what eventually became Aegis. The RAN was offered software at no charge for a scaled-down tactical data system, which became the RAN’s naval combat system. It was primarily an air-defence system and integrated with the digital Standard Missile system. Management of anti-submarine operations was analogue and clumsy, and electronic warfare integration was poor. All three ships later underwent further modernisation but retained the relatively short range and obsolescent SM1 missile system, making them vulnerable to emerging capabilities in Australia’s region.

Australia’s experience with the Adams destroyers led to the purchase of three, and later a fourth, Perry-class guided-missile frigates from the US. Two more were eventually built in Australia, the last of which has only recently been decommissioned. The RAN therefore operated nine ships of US origin with fundamentally the same combat system and weapons and benefited greatly from that standardisation.

Between 1976 to 2001, officers who had been a head of department in a destroyer had markedly better prospects for promotion to star rank. With two exceptions, in the 53 years from 1955 to 2008, the most senior leadership of the RAN was exercised by 17 officers who came from two distinct backgrounds.

First, for about 27 years, former commanding officers of aircraft carriers were ultimately chosen to become the chief of naval staff. Second, from 1982, for 26 years, the chiefs were former commanding officers of destroyers. Having such an influential group of senior officers ensured that there was a deepening and integration of knowledge acquired from the US Navy, enabling the RAN to unmistakably Australianise its methods and culture, born of its immeasurably valuable RN heritage.

The plan for extensive modernisation of Anzac frigates as replacements for the destroyers was cancelled because of technical risk and cost. This was matched by a drawn-out and expensive modernisation program for four of the RAN’s six Perry-class frigates. Those ships were equipped with the SM2 missile and anti-ship missile defence capabilities but lacked the command and control facilities necessary for modern task group operations. A planning failure meant that the destroyers were in service for at least a decade too long. When HMAS Brisbane was retired from the RAN in 2001, it took until 2017 for HMAS Hobart, the first of the Aegis-equipped Hobart class, to restore the RAN’s capability for advanced air defence and command and control.

For nearly 36 years, the destroyers gave naval options to Australia’s political decision-makers during cold war, limited war and peace. The Adams class empowered the RAN in developing a much greater understanding of what it means, and what had to be done, to become a distinctly Australian and self-reliant medium-power navy.

Plan C: winning below the threshold of war

In the past few months there have been several Strategist posts on a Plan B for Australia’s national security, the most useful of which have asked questions related to grand strategy. Here I explore how the changed nature of international competition might fundamentally change the way we need to think about strategy.

War has always been about changing an opponent’s mind. Clausewitz described it as a contest of wills, in which an enemy is defeated when they perceive that they have lost. Alternatively, to mix Thucydides and Sun Tzu, if an enemy considers that conceding better addresses their fear, honour or interest, then their mind is changed just as effectively.

Several strategic thinkers now suggest that ‘war’ is no longer primarily a contest of wills through military force but rather a direct contest of narratives. Traditional elements of power—diplomatic, military and economic—still matter in shaping minds but have become subordinate to information. If these analysts are correct, the real strategic contest will be won or lost below the threshold of war.

The argument posits that, even if it is necessary to cross the threshold to war, a successful grey zone campaign makes the outcome a foregone conclusion. Consider the parallel of Hitler’s annexation of the Czechoslovakian Sudetenland in 1938. Just six months after that political act Czechoslovakia surrendered to Germany without a fight because altered geography made defence impossible. The Czechoslovakian army was good, but losing in the grey zone made its capabilities irrelevant. Rendering the opponent unwilling or unable to fight is better than defeating them.

The grey zone and hybrid warfare are just new terms for old techniques, though today they are executed with contemporary tools. Cyber, economics, paramilitary forces and lawfare all have roles, but the centre of gravity, so the argument goes, is global opinion shaped by social media and international news channels.

Traditional measures of strategic power upon which past force structure reviews have focussed have been bypassed. This should be no surprise; changes in technology and sociology have always carried over into war and vice versa. Paradoxically, this could be a good thing for Australia. We cannot compete symmetrically with greater powers but we may be able to do so asymmetrically.

The first requirement for competing in the narrative space is to have one. But narrative, like strategy, is difficult. Once decided, it drives the actions of all the tools of comprehensive national power, including defence. It becomes your strategy. It requires careful drafting and broad consultation, yet recognition that it will never achieve total consensus. The considerations are different for democracies than for authoritarian regimes. A narrative has to be drafted for target audiences yet carry the domestic population along, so it has to have moral legitimacy and consistency. That may demand excluding tactically attractive options for long-term strategic success.

Fortunately, narrative, like strategy, doesn’t have to be perfect. It only has to be better than the other guy’s by a sufficient margin—and that’s not a high bar. China’s narrative of a decade ago was a skilful one, that of a ‘peaceful rise’ that satisfied the aspirations of the public, the party and the neighbours; but its strategy betrayed that narrative instead of following it.

Territorial gains in the South China Sea through the use of paramilitary force have cost China global goodwill, moral credibility and the foreseeable prospect of peaceful unification with Taiwan—a core interest. In Confucian philosophy a ruler should be strong, but also moral. The Chinese state goes to great lengths to legitimise its behaviour in the eyes of the population and invests heavily in Orwellian social control, which suggests it recognises its relative weakness in narrative compared to its strength in comprehensive national power.

Australia’s potential competitors have deeper internal fault lines than we do. Australia, for all its imperfections, is stronger in narrative potential than in hard power relative to China. Being able to compete on social media is central and democracies have had little success in pressing home an advantage in this space so far. The pace is too fast for lumbering bureaucracies. China and Russia already have both official and non-official social media units, less constrained by truth than democracies must be. For Australia to contest this space requires, among other things, trust in appropriately trained and empowered social media experts. That culture change won’t come easily.

Australia could spend itself into poverty on military acquisitions and still be unable to compete symmetrically, so concentrating resources on areas in which we have an inherent advantage is at least worth considering. Supporting the national narrative would become the driver for a force designed to ensure that Australia doesn’t lose below the threshold of war, because if we lose there, we can’t win above it. First though, we have to develop the narrative and that’s the hard bit.

Government faces tough decisions on transition to future submarines

The transition from the Collins-class submarines to the future submarine fleet will be longer and more complex than any previous capability transition the Department of Defence has undertaken. Today ASPI released a special report, Thinking through submarine transition, which examines the key risks on this journey and recommends ways to address them.

The submarine enterprise will be in constant transition, rather than a short, bounded process. Traditional distinctions between design and build, between upgrade and sustainment, and indeed between different classes of vessel won’t be as absolute as they once were, requiring Defence and its industry partners to think differently. They’ll need to address challenging risks to prevent a decline in submarine capability and, ultimately, grow the submarine force and supporting enterprise. Overall, Australia’s submarine capability must be treated as a single enterprise, not two distinct fleets.

Even if the government tries to get out of the Collins business as soon as possible, it will still need to extend at least three Collins submarines and operate them to around 2042 to prevent a capability gap. However, that approach wouldn’t provide a greater number of submarines until around 2044.

Extending all six Collins would provide more submarines from 2032 and also help to mitigate one of the key challenges in the transition: the development of a much larger number of submariners. Under this option, the last Collins would be in service until around 2048, and it would be 45 years old. Regardless of which option the government chooses, it’s likely that some Collins boats aren’t even halfway through their service lives, and some members of the last Collins-class crew haven’t yet been born.

There doesn’t appear to be any way to achieve a fleet of 12 submarines before roughly 2054 without breaking out of the two-year future submarine production drumbeat. Doing so would require even greater spending on submarine construction and disrupt the continuous build cycle that the government is committed to.

At least three, and probably more, Collins boats will need to undergo ‘life of type’ extensions and serve for at least another 20 years, so maintaining ASC’s ability to sustain and upgrade them is essential to a successful transition. If ASC can’t preserve its Collins sustainment workforce, there will be a capability gap.

One way to preserve ASC’s viability is to decide now that it will also be the sustainment entity for the future submarine. That will allow it to balance the workforce between the Collins and the future submarine as well as provide its current workforce with career certainty and development as part of a planned transition from one fleet to the other. It will also help to ensure sovereign sustainment of Australia’s submarine capability.

However, to provide ASC with the understanding necessary to sustain and upgrade the future submarine throughout its service life, it would be beneficial to bring ASC into the boat’s design and build process. One potential commercial model for this could be similar to that adopted by the government for the future frigate project, in this case with Naval Group taking on ASC’s submarine arm as a subsidiary that may revert to full government control at some point. This model, however, is not yet proven. Whichever way ASC is brought into the build, it will require careful negotiation.

Bringing ASC into the future submarine’s design and build process would also allow it to apply its considerable expertise in sustaining submarines under Australian conditions with Australian industry partners. That approach would also allow greater coordination between the upgrade and extension of the Collins and the design of the future submarine. Collins could serve as a testbed for potential future submarine systems—provided that didn’t reduce the capability or availability of the Collins.

Moving the Collins’ complex two-year maintenance procedures (known as full-cycle dockings) to Western Australia and then conducting future submarine dockings there could also address sustainment workforce risks. But a decision to shift such work will need to balance the short-term disruption against the longer term gain.

Growing the size of the submariner workforce is another key challenge. It will need to be much larger than it is now—potentially more than three times the size. Two measures can help to address this. One is to extend the life of all Collins boats, as the navy will need more boats to train more submariners. The Collins could become a dedicated training fleet as more future submarines enter service, meaning that the government wouldn’t need to invest as heavily in maintaining the Collins’ regional capability edge.

But the most important measure to grow the uniformed workforce will be to establish a submarine base on the east coast to provide access to Australia’s largest population centres. Without that, it’s very difficult to see how the navy could ever crew the future submarine fleet, rendering the massive investment in the vessels nugatory.

There are no clear, stand-out options for an east coast base and all viable locations are currently occupied. Therefore, the earlier a decision on a location is made, the more time Defence, industry and those members of the community who’ll be affected will have to prepare. We should also not assume that it will be the last future submarines delivered that go to the east. Because the point of having an east coast base is to recruit and retain the workforce, it may be necessary to access that labour source sooner rather than later and base either some Collins or early future submarines there.

The government has some hard decisions ahead, and they can’t be put off indefinitely.

Should Australia develop its own nuclear deterrent?

Australia’s deteriorating strategic outlook raises the question under what conditions should we develop a nuclear weapon of our own? This option was seriously considered by Australian governments in the 1960s, and the Department of Defence kept the technological lead time for an Australian nuclear weapon under review until the early 1980s. That was at the height of the Cold War and, as one of America’s closest allies, we faced a real risk of Soviet nuclear attack.

We face no such risk these days. Nevertheless, we now have the prospect—for the first time since World War II—of a potential major-power adversary threatening us with high-intensity military conflict in our neighbourhood. This is not to identify China as an inevitable adversary, but prudent defence planning needs to accept that Beijing is developing the conventional military capabilities to threaten us seriously—were its intentions to change. Military developments in our region of primary strategic concern now require a change to our assessments about intelligence warning time.

President Donald Trump’s attitude towards US friends and allies has been negative, which raises important questions about the need for us to become more self-reliant. Because of the uncertainties now surrounding America’s commitment to its allies, we may also need to revisit the reassurance about extended nuclear deterrence that we have enjoyed since the creation of ANZUS in 1951.

So far, Trump hasn’t been critical of Japan on alliance matters. However, Tokyo spends only 1% of its GDP on defence and could become a target for his criticism of allies that allegedly don’t pay their way on defence. A looming uncertainty for Tokyo is whether Trump will do a deal with North Korea on its ICBMs but leave its short- and medium-range nuclear weapons untouched. That would create grave uncertainty in Tokyo about the dependability of America’s extended nuclear deterrence. Japan has the latent capability to develop its own nuclear weapons relatively quickly.

Such a development in Japan would necessarily have repercussions on Australia’s own trust in US extended nuclear deterrence. Even without that development, Canberra may need to focus on just how dependable the US nuclear umbrella is to us these days. This will be especially the case if China continues aggressively to expand its military presence into Australia’s strategic space in Southeast Asia and the South Pacific.

In any case, we need to prepare for the prospect that we will come under increasing pressure from the Trump administration to spend more on defence and to become more able to defend ourselves—if necessary from a heavily armed China. If, in extremis, we can no longer depend upon the US to defend us from threats from a nuclear-armed China, Australia might have to revisit the technological lead time we need to develop an independent nuclear weapon.

This would be a momentous step to take, requiring us to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty by claiming that extraordinary events had jeopardised our supreme national interests.

In the classified guidance of Australian defence policy in 1968, the defence committee’s recommendation to the government was, ‘should a serious breakdown in the international order appear likely to develop, Australia might wish to reconsider the possibility of a requirement for a nuclear capacity’. The question now is whether we have arrived at such a breakdown in the international order. My answer to that is: not yet, but we need to monitor events very closely.

Let me be clear: just by raising the nuclear option I recognise it’s a highly contentious matter. There are grave moral issues involved in going nuclear, as well as likely severe international ramifications. And although it may be relatively easy for Australia to develop a nuclear bomb within, say, five years of a decision to do so, there would be perhaps insurmountable difficulties in acquiring a deliverable weapon system.

The two most obvious delivery options are ballistic missiles launched from a nuclear-powered submarine, or a long-range nuclear cruise missile carried by a strategic bomber. Neither of those options would be cheap and there are important questions about who would provide us with the technology. Even the UK depends on the US to supply it with the Trident D5 intercontinental ballistic missiles carried by its four strategic nuclear submarines (SSBNs).

The UK Ministry of Defence estimates the cost of its next-generation Dreadnought SSBNs at about $55 billion for four boats, plus a contingency of $20 billion. It also estimates the cost of sustaining the Trident missile replacement program over 35 years to be $300 billion.

The only other credible option short of such hugely expensive ballistic-missile-firing submarines would be the new US stealth strategic bomber, the B-21 Raider, which is still under development. Either way, our dependence on American technology would have serious implications for the national sovereignty of an independent nuclear deterrent.

The most sensitive question, however, would be the precise purpose of such an Australian nuclear capability. To have an effective nuclear deterrent against a major power, we would need to acquire a weapon that has both the range and destructive power to be a survivable second-strike option.

So, we face a stark dilemma: increasing uncertainty about US extended nuclear deterrence versus the daunting alternative of acquiring our own nuclear deterrent. The other alternative is to simply accept (as we did in the Cold War) that we are a nuclear target and take our chances.

My view is that Australia should at least be looking at options and lead times. Doing so doesn’t commit us to proliferating.

The only other credible option is for us to develop a strong conventional force capable of denying the approaches to Australia to any well-armed adversary. That would demand a substantial increase in our defence budget, but it would leave us vulnerable to Trump’s ambiguous ‘America First’ version of extended nuclear deterrence.

Building the integrated joint force

Image courtesy of the Department of Defence.

Building the joint and integrated ADF goes to the heart of how we must position the ADF of the future. My aim is to provoke discussion by proposing that we need to shift gears on a couple of key conceptual and intellectual points. More of the same won’t work for us.

We have come a long way since the department first started to embrace the concept of ‘One Defence’. We are about to enter a new phase of reform with the stand up of the Joint Capabilities Group next month. Since early in this process, I’ve felt we need to change our language. ‘Joint’ doesn’t cut it today given the ubiquitous involvement of the civilian component of the Department and other Government agencies in just about all we do. ‘Joint’ is an inherently military term and while the notion was confronting and challenging a few decades ago, it is now, in my view, a limiting descriptor. We need to talk about the integrated force, integrated at an organisational level and integrated technically and culturally.

In the Middle East I was privileged to watch our E7 Wedgetail Airborne control aircraft crew on one of their 14-hour missions over Iraq and Syria, operating one of the most advanced air battle space management capabilities in the world. This capability typifies an integrated capability rather than a joint one given the multitude of feeds it relies on, the different actors it advises, manages and controls.

Integration has often been seen through the somewhat superficial lens of platform and system connectivity but this is no longer good enough. Our people also need to be increasingly sophisticated in the way they assess, interpret and interact across both our currently interpreted and the emerging war fighting domains. A real behavioural shift is required because those domains are blending, and we have been forced out of our respective comfort zones. The three traditional domains of Air, Sea and Land are what we know best; they are what we have studied, what we have trained to operate in, and they are where we have traditionally prioritised our capital investment. We’ve added space and cyber in recent years and they’ve gained a firm foothold in the domain debate.

We are moving, inexorably, towards a single warfighting domain. Our ability to operate effectively across this ‘One Domain’ will depend on our ability to build an Integrated Joint Force by design. We need a new intellectual focus on the single domain concept so we understand what it means and what it looks like. First Principles is helping us in this regard. The strengthening of the strategic centre and the establishment of a single end-to-end capability development function is reshaping how we think and act. The challenge to gaining superiority across the contemporary battlespace is effective integration not just across our own force but also across government and with our key ally and partners, in the context of both global and regional security.

The challenges we face are increasing complex and they come in an increasingly contested operating environment. At the heart of the FRP implementation has been the Capability Life Cycle redesign, which is heavily focused on tailoring, streamlining and better integrating our capability solutions. It is equipping us to take that conceptual journey towards a single domain.

The Joint Force Authority has been boosted by the stand-up of Force Design Division and the transfer of full C4ISR Design Authority to me, with the resources to enable it. Having a dedicated Force Design workforce within VCDF Group cannot be overstated. Force Design has become a business as usual function; an almost continuous ‘Force Structure Review’ focused on identifying potential capability and integration gaps before they arise. In this they are supported by a robust contestability function that in my view is adding real value.

Integration is the force multiplier that allows the relatively small force like the ADF to maintain a higher operational tempo, optimal agility and superior manoeuvrability. As programs advance we are ensuring integration remains front of mind, not just for current platforms but across the ADF capability development process. As challenges arise and solutions are developed, knowledge is now flowing both forward into planning and back into the force design process. This feedback process is particularly important, because it is forces us to think about how a program fits into the bigger picture, rather than simply assessing just the task at hand. It is a major behavioural shift. As I mentioned earlier, up until now we have often viewed integration as a largely technical endeavour.

True integration is far more than just technical. Those aspects of increasingly complex, congested and contested environments means we have to find better ways of integrating across our Force, and across the warfighting Domain. Technical integration is certainly important, I am not denying that and the 5th generation capabilities coming into service will test that. But integration at its core is not about primacy of one aspect – it’s about how it all works together. So how we integrate with our people, how we train, and how we use whole of nation capability to produce more efficient, effective and agile outcomes cannot be overlooked.

Essentially, what we need is to step back and think about what integration for a force of our scale means. We need to face up to the fact that previously when we spoke of domains, sea, land, air, it was really giving us an ability to continue to talk about the services while looking like we weren’t. I think we were all guilty of it. But our scale, and the complexity of our operating environment means staying in that particular comfort zone is no longer viable.

The emergence of cyber and space has certainly challenged this service-orientated mindset a little and in our doctrine we even have the human domain. Left unchecked, further domain proliferation will muddy the waters even more and undermine the utility of the domain construct. Is Space, at this time, in the Australian context (please note those very deliberately chosen caveats), a domain or is it an enabling function like logistics, critical to the fight but for us, right now, hardly a warfighting domain. Until we move from being a ‘customer’ of space products (including the bearers it provides) to possessing serious space capabilities, its status as a domain in the Australian context is contestable. Cyber is a different story, we have real capabilities and are generating effects from them. We have a clearer and more sophisticated view of the role we want to play, how we operate in it and where we can influence.

I am not an adherent to the multi-domain warfare construct, its smacks a little of a fad. The bottom line is that as long as we talk and think in a segmented framework (such as domains) we inevitably think in a sectorial way, one that leads to a focus on the ‘seams’ rather than the system as a whole. That’s the leap we need to make, that’s why a One Domain concept is intellectually important if we are to design and build an Integrated force.

Our specialist and Service building blocks will always be crucial and I think the post First Principles Review era has absolutely reinforced the crucial role of the Service Chiefs. Our geo-strategic realities setup an inherent tension between our ultimate role in the physical and self-reliant defence of our homeland and that of our daily operating reality which sees us working collaboratively in coalitions far from home to ensure the former is never required.

In a small force such as ours we need appropriate levels of horizontal interoperability across the services, particularly when it comes to ensuring effective C4ISR. But, we do not need everything to talk to everything else. Of course the majority of our war fighting and our day-to-day operations, is conducted within a coalition in a component based construct where what I would call vertical interoperability up the component chain is crucial. There is a challenge in getting the investment balance right between the vertical and horizontal demands as we struggle to understand what ‘appropriate’ means on both axes. This is complex work but the sophistication of the force we are acquiring demands innovative and deep intellectual engagement, open communication and collaborative behaviours across all stakeholders who are a part of our Defence Fundamental Inputs to Capability, including industry.

Assessing and prioritising gaps and opportunities is always front of mind, with designing our response as force options and deciding, with Government approval, our future force structure. Certainly there is no perfect plan; no matter how much thought that goes into design it is inevitable that we will need to make trade-offs as the dynamic strategic environment and the budget envelope change. Discussions in the Investment Committee are becoming deeper, more intellectual, collegiate and strategic.

The conversation is significantly enhanced by the presence and contribution of very senior representatives from Departments of Finance and the Prime Minister and Cabinet. That presence and participation has also transformed the dynamic between central agencies and Defence which has had a materially positive impact on the capital investment approval process in both time taken and providing government a more strategic view of force structure decisions outside of the formal White Paper process. We still have a way before we can realise all the benefits that true, and appropriate, integration brings to our force.

Defence policy and industry: balance and options

Aerial view of Russell Offices in Canberra, taken from one of 723 Squadron's Bell 429 helicopters.

We’ve had two timely contributions to the current defence policy debate in Australia: the first by ANU’s Professor Hugh White; and the second by Innes Willox, Chief Executive of the Australian Industry Group.

Starting with White’s sound advice on how to ‘do defence policy better’, inputs, outputs and outcomes are critical but I believe the start point in the process is a clear and consistent vision of Australia and its role in the world. That context enables us to determine more directly the type of outcomes we as a nation see for ourselves. They’ll necessarily be long term in nature and contestable but they’ll provide the framework around which the broader security and defence debate can then take place.

Australia’s policymakers’ task is made more interesting because of its location; the size of its land mass, population and economy; and—of increasing importance—the perception held by others of Australia’s role both regionally and globally. Together those factors create a unique set of policy challenges. The input element is also made more complex because governments, notwithstanding their occasional fiery rhetoric, seem to dislike restricting the capability or output options available to future governments. Read more

Biding their time: the Opposition’s defence statement

MQ-4 TritonThe Opposition’s defence policy (PDF) released yesterday was perhaps more notable for commitments it didn’t make rather than ones it did. It’s a cautious document, light on for hard timings for major decisions. But that’s no bad thing—taking the time to get decisions about complex issues right is eminently sensible. And when it did make a firm commitment with a date—the promise to increase defence spending to 2% of GDP in ten years—the outcome is both difficult to achieve and divorced from a coherent strategic framework.

It’s hard for oppositions to make defence policy as issues require detailed knowledge of costings, technical performance or intelligence that simply isn’t available to them. In part, this is an unavoidable consequence of the secrecy attached to national security matters. But it also reflects the tendency of incumbent governments, and indeed Defence itself, to withhold information from the public. Doing so creates an information asymmetry that protects the government from scrutiny and confers considerable power to Defence in advising government. Then there’s the sheer volume of information. Even incumbents have difficulty sifting through all of the open source, commercial-in-confidence and classified information. The net result is that oppositions often don’t know what they don’t know. Read more

Reader response: more force structure options – take two

Marcus Fielding’s response to my force structure post raises several interesting points, in particular, that ‘…it’s entirely appropriate for Australia to restructure to be able to lead and provide force-level support to regional coalitions.’

In terms of force structure I think that option is an integral part of the joint force alternative. If we can field an independent joint force with its own command and control structure, others can join in later if operational circumstances require. Conversely, if we develop a force that’s optimised as part of someone else’s joint force, then our ability to form the core of some regional coalition becomes more problematic.

Marcus also makes an interesting point on the Timor-Leste deployment in saying, ‘many of the force-level capabilities, including a Deployable Joint Task Force Headquarters, have [since] withered away…’. This reflects the shift that my post discussed of more emphasis being placed on the ADF being able to form a part of a larger American combined force. Accordingly, the need for a DJTFHQ declined. Some in Army considered the Defence of Australia (DOA) construct unhelpful to their service in favouring air and naval forces, and thought this focus responsible for land forces being ill-prepared for East Timor. Marcus’s observation would suggest that this interpretation needs re-thinking as the DJTFHQ provided the land force element in with the capability to command a multi-national force. As noted in an earlier post, Timor-Leste did find the force structure lacking in sustainability, but perhaps the DOA construct was more land force friendly than critics allow. Read more

Force Structure 103a: joint or combined?

Maj. Gen. Roger F. Mathews Deputy Commanding General U.S. Army, Pacific (USARPAC) and Australian Defense Force Maj. Gen. Richard M. Burr, Headquarters U.S. Army Pacific Deputy Commanding General of Operations salute as the US and Australian National Anthems are played during a Jan. 17, 2013 Deputy Commanding General flying V Ceremony at the Historic Palm Circle on Fort Shafter, Honolulu, Hawaii. The ceremony held to welcome Burr and his family as the first foreign military officer to be assigned at this level of leadership in the U.S. Army. Burr’s appointment as the USARPAC Deputy Commanding General of Operations signifies the continuing strong relationship between the United States and Australia and further shows the support by both countries for the National strategy of ensuring stability and security throughout the Pacific Region. (Department of Defense photo by U.S. Air Force Tech. Sgt. Michael R. Holzworth/Released)

For Australia, force structure decisions don’t solely revolve around national considerations. The alliance with America has a major influence. In thinking about force structures we have two choices at either end of a continuum: either develop an independent national joint force or instead field tactical units able to fit seamlessly into a larger American joint force. In practice we try to a bit of both, although this potentially builds two different and incompatible forces.

The heyday of the national joint force option was in the late 1980s and early 1990s under the Defence of Australia (DOA) rubric. A national command and control structure was established with the necessary communications systems that allowed independent operations. That proved handy in East Timor when Australia ended up providing the bulk of the forces and running the operation. Perhaps surprisingly, not all middle powers have such a command and control system. Many NATO nations, for example, don’t have a large national command structure that allows them to undertake distant independent operations. Instead, they are part of the NATO command and control system. Read more