Tag Archive for: White Paper

Thinking through submarine transition

Executive Summary

The transition from the Collins-class submarines to the future submarine fleet will be more complex than any previous capability transition that Defence has undergone. The submarine enterprise will be in constant transition, rather than completing a short, bounded transition process. Traditional distinctions between design and build, between upgrade and sustainment, and indeed between different classes of vessel won’t be as absolute, requiring Defence and its industry partners to think differently.

Overall, Australia’s submarine capability must be treated as a single enterprise, not two distinct fleets.

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 Australian 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.

…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 some life of type extensions and serve for at least another 20 years, so maintaining ASC’s ability to sustain and upgrade Collins 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. This will allow it to balance the workforce between Collins and the future submarine as well as to 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 of the future submarine design necessary to sustain and upgrade the boat throughout its service life, it would be beneficial to bring ASC into the design and build of the future submarine. 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 is, however, not yet proven. However ASC is brought into the build, it will require careful negotiation.

Bringing ASC into the design and build of the future submarine would also allow it to apply its considerable expertise in sustaining submarines under Australian conditions with Australian industry partners to the design of the future submarine. This 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 test-bed for potential future submarine systems—provided that did not reduce Collins’s capability or availability.

Moving Collins full-cycle dockings (and then conducting future submarine dockings in Western Australia) could also address sustainment workforce risks, but a decision to do so will need to balance the short-term disruption against longer term gain.

Growing the size of the submariner trade is another key challenge, as it will be much larger than it currently is—potentially over three times as large. 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. Potentially, Collins could evolve into being 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 an east coast submarine base to provide access to Australia’s largest population centres. Without this, 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 the location is made, the more time Defence, industry and those members of the community who are affected will have to prepare. We should also not assume that it will be the last future submarines delivered that go to the east; since the point of having an east coast base is to recruit and retain the workforce, it may be necessary to gain access to that workforce sooner rather than later, by basing either some Collins or early future submarines there.

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Tag Archive for: White Paper

Australia and War To-Day (part 2)

Last week, I argued that Australia needs stronger defence. Today I suggest how that might be achieved.

Current plans strengthen Australia’s defences slowly. For example, the first of our ‘future submarines’ won’t enter service until the early 2030s, and we won’t have twelve boats until the early 2050s. The glacial pace of strengthening the ADF is consistent with 2016 Defence White Paper‘s assessment that ‘the United States will remain the pre-eminent global military power over the next two decades’—a critical judgment that the latest US National Intelligence Council assessment calls into serious question.

That’s giving the DWP more credit that it deserves. We know that neither the scale nor pace of plans for the ADF has anything to do with balancing strategic risks and costs, let alone soothsaying about where the US will be in 20 years. Instead, today’s plans are the consequence of an ad-hoc decision to spend 2% of GDP on defence by an arbitrary date. To pretend otherwise is to mistake numerology for strategy.

What’s more, today’s plans are little more than a re-hash of the Rudd government’s abandoned 2009 plan. Not only do today’s plans have their genesis in far less challenging times, but we’re starting seven years late.

There are limits to what can be done to adapt existing plans to looming challenges. Woe betide anyone who upsets the cosy political economy of naval shipbuilding. And Defence would strongly defend the current inter-service division of spoils. Absent a major crisis, existing misallocations and inefficiencies are baked in; our only option is to add to existing plans.

The quickest and most cost-effective way to strengthen our defence would be to enhance the readiness and sustainability of existing capabilities. Stockpiles of munitions and spare parts should be made sufficient for prolonged independent operations, and additional personnel should be signed-up to increase the availability of existing platforms for deployment. We should analyse where and how we can get the most worthwhile boosts to capability for each extra dollar spent. Plans to upgrade the ADF’s airfields and port facilities should be brought forward.

Next, we should examine the feasibility of keeping selected existing platforms in service beyond their planned retirement date—even if only as reserve capabilities. Our 71 classic Hornet fighters would be a perfect candidate, but we’ve probably passed the point of no return. If only we’d had the foresight to complete the centre-barrel replacement program.

What about new capability? Naval platforms might seem an obvious solution, but they take too long to build. At the beginning of WWII, Australia planned to build eight 2,500 ton Tribal-class destroyers—only three were delivered prior to war’s end. And, although the Army can expand quickly, I think we have adequate land forces for the moment. So it’s to the RAAF we must turn.

Aircraft are supremely useful in our part of the world, and mature designs are available from existing production lines. We should investigate expanded purchases of current and planned ADF combat aircraft. Think of it as an insurance policy—a contingency plan—with any final decision contingent on a further deterioration in the strategic outlook.

Even with the cautious approach outlined above, strengthening the ADF would cost money, and that would pressure the government’s finances. But a triple-A credit rating will be of little solace if we enter a major conflict unprepared.

Australia’s security depends on more than its military defence. So, here are three further areas for priority action:

First, we need to revitalise our diplomatic capacity. After years of cuts and growing demands for consular services, the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade is stretched to the limit. Australia’s diplomats are the government’s eyes, ears and voice in foreign capitals. Now, more than ever, the government needs the unique insights and influence that only well-staffed and properly resourced embassies can deliver.

Second, Australia’s resilience to geopolitical disruption should be bolstered. Sophistry around Australia’s non-compliance with the requirement to hold 90 days of fuel has gone on too long. If it’s good enough for China, Japan, South Korea, the EU and the US to maintain strategic fuel reserves, what makes Australia think that it can rely on foreign markets in a crisis? A strategic reserve of oil and other critical commodities should be created without delay.

Third, the government needs to practice its decision-making and crisis management skills. The National Security Committee should commence a program of structured simulations (wargames) to hone the government’s response in a strategic crisis. No ADF unit would ever deploy without having competed an extensive exercise program to confirm its readiness, and no lesser expectation should prevail for the government’s higher decision-making processes.

Alongside a strengthened defence force, those three measures would better position Australia to deal with the challenges of an increasingly unstable and uncertain world. But there’s one more thing: we need a strategy.

For what it’s worth, I’d double down on the US alliance. It’s true that the relative strength of the US in North Asia is declining, but the US will continue look to Australia as an anchor on the western side of the Pacific even if it is pushed from North Asia. Nothing would please me more than a squadron of US Virginia-class nuclear submarines operating from an Australian port, except perhaps the boats being dual-crewed by RAN sailors. But I know that a great many people would disagree with me; barely a day goes by without a call for Australia to take a ‘more independent’ position—which is code moving away from the United States. We should be talking about the choices we might have to make. It’s possible, and even likely, that in the ‘dark and difficult near future’ an Australian government will have to makes rapid decisions with profound consequences for generations to come.

The forthcoming Foreign Policy White Paper is an opportunity for the government to put forward its narrative for Australia in the 21st century. I wish them luck. Even a half-truthful rendering of our current situation would include grave uncertainties and unpalatable truths. But anything less than that will be a missed opportunity to spur on the nation-defining debate we need to have.

*In 1935, ex-prime minister William ‘Billy’ Hughes wrote a book with this title arguing against appeasement and in favour of rearmament, he was forced to resign from the Lyons government for his efforts.

Australian strategy: hold US, bet Asia

Image courtesy of Pixabay user Unsplash.

Australia’s strategic hope is to hold tight to what it has with the US while seeking new chances in Asia.

To use the language of poker: hold, not fold on America, bet big Asia. At the multi-dimension poker table, Australia is playing two hands simultaneously, with diverging strategies for the alliance and Asia, all for a single jackpot.

The hold-America, bet-Asia formula has lots of moving parts. The beauty is that it hews to the key themes Australia has been using for decades: alliance, Asian engagement and global rules. Unfortunately the new US leader dislikes these great themes. And the Narcissist-in-Chief’s hand might be more busted flush than full house.

Australia confronts an America First President who rejects alliances and renders economics in primary colours of protectionist, mercantilist hue. Enter ‘the most unpopular and least prepared’ US president of modern history. And Canberra thought the going was tough when Oz merely faced a new world where its top trading partner wasn’t also an ally. Oh, for simpler times.

The Foreign Policy White Paper Australia will produce this year will be the institutional expression of the hold-America, bet-Asia strategy.

On the hold’em side, Australia will seek to Trump-proof the alliance with multiple layers of history and commitment. After the Trump-Turnbull telephone turmoil, Foreign Minister Julie Bishop zoomed to Washington for talks with Vice President Mike Pence. The White House readout on that February 21 meeting gives the proper hold’em flavour:

‘The two reaffirmed the strong alliance between the United States and Australia and committed to maintaining the close ties of friendship between our two countries. The Vice President thanked the Foreign Minister for Australia’s multifaceted partnership with the United States around the globe.’

Expect lots more of that hold-hard and hope language in the White Paper. What will drive the bet-big Asia side of the Paper will be the need for insurance against Donald Trump’s core belief that America gets a lousy return from the international order it created. A succinct summary of Trump’s mindmap is offered by Thomas Wright, arguing that over three decades Trump has displayed ‘a remarkably coherent and consistent world view’, embracing antiquated, 19th century American notions of power:

  1. Trump is deeply unhappy with America’s military alliances and feels the US is overcommitted around the world.
  2. Trump feels that America is disadvantaged by the global economy. Note the striking vision of ‘American carnage’ at the centre of Trump’s inauguration speech: ‘We’ve made other countries rich, while the wealth, strength and confidence of our country has dissipated over the horizon.’ Thus, Trump’s America First promise: ‘Protection will lead to great prosperity and strength.’
  3. As evidenced by the President’s sympathy for authoritarian strongmen, Wright says, ‘Trump seeks nothing less than ending the US-led liberal order and freeing America from its international commitments’.

Using the Wright analysis, Jessica Mathews comes from the other direction to argue that the new President rejects the few fundamentals American neocons, realists and liberal internationalists agree on:

  1. The immense value to the security of the US provided by its allies and worldwide military and political alliances.
  2. The global economy is not a zero-sum competition but a mutually beneficial growth system built on open trade and investment, using a set of rules.
  3. Democracy is best. ‘Dictators have to be tolerated, managed, or confronted, not admired.’

What Trump believes and what he wants to discard will be a significant, unstated subtext for Australia’s White Paper. Without naming Trump, Australia will be arguing against him by emphasising the arrival of Asia’s new order, the deep foundations of the alliance, the central US role in Asia and the vital interests in a rules-based international order.

With his usual smarts, Hugh White offers draft language for the Paper; although don’t expect the statement to be as explicit as Hugh about the need for an Asian order to ‘ensure that Australia does not face an impossible choice between America and China in the future’. Like the virtual argument with Trump, this will be implicit not explicit.

If the history of Oz foreign policy is ‘a chronicle of efforts to avoid unwanted choices’, as Allan Gyngell remarks, then the attempt at playing two different poker hands with different tactics is a familiar bit of Canberra policy dissonance. Trouble is the size of the stakes and the confusion of forces at play in multi-dimension poker, as Allan concludes:

‘No one now working in Canberra has had to contend with systemic uncertainty on this scale…The drafters of the Australian foreign policy White Paper and their policy bosses have their work cut out. The post-war global era is over.’

Australia can’t fold. It has to play. And face the fear that it’s two hands—hold America, bet big Asia—are in conflict. What we want to hold tight threatens to jeopardise our big bets.

Australia’s Foreign and Trade White Paper: time to get real

Realists argue there’s only one genuine philosophical principle to guide a nation’s foreign policy.  In the first recorded debate between realists and idealists, Thucydides reported the Athenians telling the Melians, ‘the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must’. Thucydides foreshadowed the realist worldview that nations, ‘are concerned with their own security, act in pursuit of their own national interests, and struggle for power’. Realists believe that the international environment is anarchic and that, consistent with their capacity and opportunities, states will always act in their own economic, ideological and security interests. Philosophically, the new Foreign and Trade White Paper (FTWP) should be firmly based in realism.

An overriding, one size fits all, ‘philosophical framework to guide Australia’s engagement, regardless of international events‘ will either prove to be unworkable—and be ditched at the first intractable crisis or problem—or, if followed irrespective of the specifics of a situation, lead to increased tensions and conflict as other nations pursue their own interests with vigour. Effective implementation of foreign policy involves compromise and accommodation, as well as pursuit of objectives. Sometimes avoiding harm to one’s national interest and mitigating or minimising harm is a good outcome.

The realist paradigm that drove Cold War strategies appeared to be outdated after the fall of the Soviet Union. In the aftermath, George H.W. Bush spoke of a new global order: ‘A world where the rule of law supplants the rule of the jungle’; adding that ‘No peaceful international order is possible if larger States can devour their smaller neighbours’. But political realists are feeling smug these days. The underlying anarchy of the international environment appears to be pushing through the thin veneer of the post-Cold War order. Nations are increasingly ignoring the web of conventions, norms and rules governing the behaviour between states that seemed largely settled.

The rules-based order—or liberal internationalism—pursued by the US and its allies appears to be fraying. The international law governing interstate conflict has been flouted with impunity on numerous occasions so far this century. The US-led invasion of Iraq is considered by many to be a breach of international law.  The case is strong that ‘no international or domestic legal act can justify’ the Russian invasion of Georgia in 2008 or the creation of the separatist states. Similarly Russia’s annexation of Crimea is demonstrably ‘a fundamental breach of international law‘. Russia’s actions in Aleppo are seen as beyond the rules of war governing attacking civilians. The Saudi air campaign in Yemen has shocked its allies.  That the Arbitral Tribunal found China’s South China Sea claims to be extinguished has had no tangible effect, as China refuses to acknowledge its jurisdiction and continues its activities. But those a just the tip of the iceberg.

The neoliberal consensus underlying globalisation and the advance of free trade and liberalisation of capital is breaking down. Financial liberalisation and globalist economics are being questioned in the wake of the 2008 Global Financial Crisis.  The Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP) and the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), both of which were touted as vehicles for economic growth and greater security are—if not fatally woundedunlikely to come to fruition in their current forms. More significantly for our foreign policy formulation, the vigorous pursuit of those trade arrangements has produced a nativist reaction in the US and has been a rallying cry for nationalist opponents of the EU project. The Brexit vote was as much a rejection of the rules-based European Union as it was a rejection of Brussel’s continued advocacy of free trade agreements.  The British reaction put nationalistic considerations first.

To drive Australia’s foreign policy on the assumption that we possess the only legitimate organising principles for the world and that our policy should be to ‘shape the thinking of other nations’ not only sounds like cultural and political imperialism, but is more crusade than policy. Russia and China are revisionist powers—a fact neither hides—with realist approaches to foreign affairs. China’s success in Africa is directly related to realist policies. The spread of liberal democracy has been halted or reversed in countries like Thailand and Turkey, and around the world putative democracy is a screen for sham elections and authoritarianism. The ardent pursuit of liberal internationalist norms is likely to be unproductive policy.

If the FTWP is to be of long-lasting benefit in the conduct of Australian foreign policy—rather than a liberal internationalist wish list—it must be firmly based in a realist understanding.

Oz Foreign and Trade White Paper and Liberal sacred cows

Image courtesy of Flickr user Ted & John Koston

Australia’s Foreign and Trade White Paper—expected next year—will have several sacred cows grazing through its pages, and the holiest of beasts will be the US alliance, a cow of a bipartisan colour.

On the partisan side of the yard will be the herd draped with Liberal Party ribbons:

  • ‘national interest’ used as badge and justification and incantation
  • bilateralism, as both building block and realist understanding
  • ‘economic diplomacy’, the new beast—the fatted cow of growth and prosperity—twinned by Foreign Minister Bishop, with the need to strengthen and preserve the existing strategic order.

Sacred cows tend to be worshiped, not questioned. In the White Paper, though, the US alliance cow will be pushed and probed because of Asia’s shifting balance of power and the China conundrums. The analysis will need to think about the dragon in the same paddock as the alliance cow.

The new beast, ‘economic diplomacy’, will be so wonderfully groomed it’ll stand as its own justification—more anointed than examined. This cow is central to the Liberal story about how diplomacy, trade and aid should be done.

Here’s Julie Bishop’s proposition: ‘If the goal of traditional diplomacy is peace, then the goal of economic diplomacy is prosperity’. The quote (and emphasis) are from the DFAT discussion of economic diplomacy and its four pillars: trade, growth, investment and business.

The big boast of economic diplomacy is the three trade deals the Coalition government clinched with Japan, South Korea and China. The bilateral magic is to be re-worked in future from Indonesia to India to the Brexiting Brits.

The economic diplomacy cow will be one of the bigger animals in the White Paper. Yet there’s a bunch of academic economists sharpening weapons to slit its throat. The professorial posse calls for DFAT to lose its grip on the centrepiece of trade diplomacy: negotiation of Free Trade Agreements (FTAs). The old arguments throb: FTAs are preferential, discriminatory and diversionary—they give benefits to the FTA partner and deny them to others.

Shiro Armstrong’s assessment of Australia’s 2005 FTA with the United States is that trade diversion caused ‘a fall in Australian and US trade with the rest of the world’. The modelling says the cumulative effect of the AUSFTA was to reduce or divert US$53 billion of trade with other economies.

The attack on the ‘free trade mythology’ by the academic posse is that DFAT’s secret negotiation of FTAs involves a misleading process ‘used to create an unreal public perception’ where proclaimed economic gains are ‘without any basis in fact’. No basis in fact! Holy cow!

The posse wants to embrace the rigour of the Productivity Commission and give more power to Parliament: ‘DFAT’s grip on trade policy has proved impervious to public challenge and will be removed only by strong political direction’.

A tacit understanding of the limits of existing economic diplomacy was expressed in Malcolm Turnbull’s G20 call to use bilateral building blocks to strengthen the multilateral system:

  • G20 nations should ‘ensure that future bilateral and regional trade agreements are notified to the WTO and that they include provisions for regular review and for countries to join on mutually agreed terms’
  • proliferating regional and bilateral agreements must ‘lead to a more open global trading and investment system.’

The professorial posse challenges more than one sacred cow because the economic diplomacy theme flows though much of the Liberal government’s foreign policy, from bilateral deals to the big change in the way Oz does development aid.

In its first term, the Liberal government under Tony Abbott: killed off a golden aid consensus that lasted only a decade (completing the Oz journey from aid superpower to aid superwimp); ordered the greatest revolution in Australia’s foreign policy bureaucracy since 1987 (integrating AusAID into DFAT as Pre-FaT ate WasAID), and quietly killed an iron law of Coalition governments that stood for nearly seven decades (previously the wombats—the National/Country Party—always got the Trade portfolio).

The economic diplomacy theme burnishes the Liberal ‘national interest’ badging. Thus, the first two principles for the integration of AusAID into DFAT stated:

  • Australia’s aid program will promote Australia’s national interests through contributing to international economic growth and poverty reduction. It will be designed and implemented to support Australian foreign and trade policy. Its geographic priority will be the Indo-Pacific region, especially the South Pacific and South East Asia
  • The outcome of integration will be a transformed Department that aligns and implements foreign, development, and trade policies and programs in a coherent, efficient and effective manner, in pursuit of Australia’s national interests.

The 1997 Howard government DFAT White Paper (In the National Interest) devoted one of its five chapters to bilateral relationships as ‘the Basic Building Block’, while the 2003 paper (Advancing the National Interest) grouped five of its 12 chapters under the heading ‘Consolidating and expanding our bilateral and regional relationships’.

Behold the sacred cow herd, grazing through the realist bilateral bush and the lush economic diplomacy pasture, contented in the national interest paddock. The sacred beasts do far more than ceremonial duty. They frame the Liberal understanding of the world, defining policy choices and driving political arguments.

To be continued…

It’s time for a transformational foreign policy

Image courtesy of Flickr user andy wagstaffe

Australia needs a forward-looking foreign policy to guide the efforts of our hardworking diplomats. Foreign Minister Julie Bishop’s intention, as reported recently, to commission a Foreign Policy White Paper is timely. As Graeme Dobell’s post notes, we need a political document with a policy punch.

The procession of largely disappointing Defence White Papers over the past decade masks the fact that it is 13 years since Advancing the National Interest and over a quarter of a century since Australia’s Regional Security (a Ministerial Statement rather than a White Paper) saw the light of day.

For the past two decades, Australia’s foreign ministers and their department have dealt competently with the day-to-day issues and occasional crises. They’ve been good at transacting the business of diplomacy. But one has to go back to Gareth Evans to find a foreign minister who set an agenda, worked at it tirelessly with his department, and delivered results. The Chemical Weapons Convention, the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation Forum, the ASEAN Regional Forum and the Canberra Commission on the Elimination of Nuclear Weapons are enduring testaments to a transformational foreign policy.

A transactional foreign policy deals with things as they occur. It has no plan. It’s pragmatic rather than purposive, reactive rather than visionary. A transformational foreign policy, on the other hand, is targeted, preferring principle to pragmatism, direction to simple responsiveness, enduring benefits to activity for its own sake.

The incoming Secretary of the Department of Foreign Affairs, Frances Adamson, may well have her work cut out, the greatest brake on progress being, perhaps, her own minister. During the Deputy Leaders’ debate held at the National Press Club on 21 June 2016, Julie Bishop had this to say. ‘In our pragmatic approach to foreign policy we deal with the world as it is, not as we would wish it to be.’ This observation goes to the heart of the narrowly transactional approach to foreign policy that has characterised Australia’s foreign policy for the past 20 years.

For all her energy and undoubted hard work, Bishop has neither identified nor advanced any of Australia’s longer-term interests and hopes. She hasn’t sought to create a world as Australia might wish it to be—surely the principal goal of a foreign minister who wants to make a difference. Here are a few issues that she could consider for inclusion in a transformational foreign policy agenda.

The strategic relationship (or contest, perhaps) between the US and China is the force that will shape the Asian region for the rest of this century. Australia’s security and prosperity depend on how that is managed: if tension and a consequent arms race is the result, Australia will spend ever more on defence and our standard of living will drop. If, on the other hand, the US and China are able to accept that each has legitimate strategic interests in Asia and that cooperation rather than competition is the relationship paradigm, the entire Asian region (including Australia) will be well served. We have to work at this, however. It won’t just happen, especially while the US represents itself as the setter and arbiter of ‘the rules-based international order’ and China continues to employ aggression as the salve for ‘the century of humiliation’.

The greatest assets we have in managing this complex relationship between China and the US are our neighbours, who are affected just as much as we by a competition for strategic dominance. And Indonesia, a nation with a bright economic and political future, will inevitably take centre-stage in a transformational approach to regional strategic affairs. It’s in Australia’s interests to work closely with Indonesia to achieve this.

In terms of Australia’s international reputation and image, our refugee policy, in the guise of a border security policy, has been a disaster. We are seen in the UK and the US as lacking both compassion and smarts. The plight of some 60 million refugees globally is a major international problem—one that Australia needs to address in company with like-minded countries. We need a totally transformed diplomacy towards countries of first resort—particularly Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand—and a completely re-engineered approach to the UNHCR. We need to work more energetically with the UN to tackle the main cause of the global refugee problem—civil war. And we have to stop exploiting economically indigent countries like PNG and Nauru. The global community needs a transformational approach to refugees. So do we.

In the newly-minted anthropocene era, the consequences of global warming are increasingly entrenched, no matter how much we hide behind the fact that other economies are bigger carbon polluters than we are (though there’s no escaping the fact that we are the biggest carbon emitter on a per capita basis). The scrapping of the Clean Energy Future package in 2013 may have played well for some on the domestic political scene, but it damaged Australia’s international reputation as a serious player on global warming issues. We have a responsibility as much to our regional neighbours as we do to future generations to mitigate the effects of global warming and to adapt to the inevitable environmental changes.

Closer to home, Australia’s relationship with Indonesia remains formal and brittle, Papua New Guinea is teetering on the brink of social collapse, Timor Leste is locked in litigation with us on sea bed boundary issues and our relationship with New Zealand is supercilious where it isn’t dismissive. We need to invest in these relationships: exchanging emojis isn’t enough.

Of course, we can continue to deal with the world as it is, staggering from issue to issue, crisis to crisis, without much of a sense of what it is all about or where we might be headed. But the challenge for a government that likes ‘to live in exciting times’ is to manage the excitement rather than being overcome by it. That demands planning and strategy. That’s why a contemporary and purposive Foreign Affairs White Paper is so important.