Search Results

‘Anyone writing airpower theory today has a great deal of rewriting to do, because some large conceptual weeds have been allowed to prosper in airpower’s intellectual garden.’ Colin Gray, Airpower Reborn, 179. Giulio Douhet [Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons] When Giulio Douhet wrote and published Command in the Air in 1921 he did so based on the limited experience gained by airmen during the First World War and used concepts derived from a battle-focused view of military operations. His theory of airpower suffered as a result. By portraying airpower as a revolutionary technology but framing it’s potential employment within an existing Western, essentially Napoleonic, view of war, Douhet and his contemporaries could not create the paradigm-shift in strategic thought that the ability to operate in the third-dimension demanded. Instead, their works became a millstone around the necks of future airpower theorists and practitioners who have wasted considerable time and intellectual effort seeking to reconcile the experience of airpower with the unrealistic expectations created by the early theorists. In Airpower Reborn: The Strategic Concepts of John Warden and John Boyd, Norwegian Air Force Colonel and prolific airpower scholar, John Andreas Olsen has assembled five essays from five leading airpower and strategy scholars for the purpose of recaging the discussion on airpower. Olsen’s introduction clearly and succinctly lays out the issues that the book seeks to address. Since the First World War airpower professionals and theorists have had to overcome an ‘entrenched force-on-force and battlefield-oriented war-fighting paradigm,’ and ‘have had to justify accomplishments against unrealistic expectations rather than against actual results.’ Faced with these obstacles to creating a viable and influential theory to guide and inform strategy and operations, airpower practitioners have been unable to fully realise the potential of air operations. The aim of Airpower Reborn is to break with airpower’s conceptual past and establish a new basis for airpower theory, one divorced from the land-centric obsession with the battle and built instead upon the concept of strategic paralysis. Establishing a new concept of airpower, however, cannot be achieved simply by writing a book, a fact that is tacitly acknowledged in Olsen’s introductory chapter. Instead it requires airpower professionals to think, understand, explain, and advocate for a new paradigm. Well structured and well argued, the five core chapters of Airpower Reborn guide the reader skillfully through the book’s central argument. Each chapter builds on the previous to provide a logical development of the case for a shift in the way airpower is understood, explained, developed and employed. As a result, the book hits its mark. Peter Faber begins by providing a plausible explanation for the failures of earlier airpower theories. Using Thomas Kuhn’s idea of the paradigm shift, Faber asserts that earlier theorists were seeking to force a conceptual revolution, but were frustrated by their inability to overcome the entrenched land-centric vision of war, their continued use of land-centric terminology, and by linking the conceptual shift with a threat of massive organisational upheaval. The result was that the theorist could not effect the revolution in strategic thinking that the advent of airpower required. This had to wait for the arrival of John Boyd and John Warden, the subjects of the next two chapters of the book. John Boyd’s contribution to strategic theory is often seen as limited to the OODA loop; a model of decision making that is more used than understood. But there is more to Boyd than the OODA loop, and it is Boyd’s ideas that provide the purpose of strategic paralysis: overwhelming an adversary’s ability to adapt while improving your own. Addressing this in his chapter outlining Boyd’s thoughts, Frans Osinga does an excellent job of simplifying the complexity of Boyd. By taking the reader beyond the overly simplistic strategic concept of out-OODAing the enemy, describing Boyd’s characterisation of the modes of conflict (attrition, manoeuvre, and moral) and their relationship to the strategy of ‘disintegration and collapse’, and identifying war as the confrontation between complex adaptive systems, Osinga succeeds in introducing the uninitiated reader to the complexity of Boyd’s thought in a way that is relatively easy to understand. Diagrammatic representation of Boyd’s OODA Loop. [Image Credit: Patrick Moran via Wikimedia.org] Whereas Boyd provides the purpose of strategic paralysis, John Warden provides the form. The architect of the Instant Thunder air campaign plan that provided the basis for air aspects of Operation Desert Storm, Warden is most noted for his system-approach to strategy through what has become known as his Five-Ring Model. In his chapter ‘Smart Strategy, Smart Airpower’, Warden updates this model and applies it to the modern employment of airpower. One of the strengths of Warden’s chapter is the straight forward explanation of his concepts; the reader can easily follow Warden’s logic. Identifying the four key questions that are the basic building blocks of an effective strategy (where, what, how, and exit), Warden links each part of his theory with basic strategic logic. Despite the clarity of his thought and writing, however, Warden remains a divisive figure both inside and outside of the airpower community, and the reason for this is clearly evident in this chapter. His call for airpower practitioners to become committed and vocal advocates for airpower to government and the public can be seen as validation for the charge of zealotry often directed at Warden. While this advocacy may put some readers offside, as the book’s early chapters have made clear, it is the absence of informed advocacy that has been the cause of the many false starts in airpower’s operational history, so maybe Warden has a point. Drawing together the related by dissimilar theories of Boyd and Warden, Alan Stephens proposes a ‘Fifth-Generation Strategy’ as the basis for modern airpower theory. Stephens also emphasises the importance of airpower practitioners engaging in deep thinking about the role their capabilities can and should play in modern strategy. Using examples of where innovative airpower theory has floundered when confronted by entrenched land-centric schools of strategy, Stephens illustrates how the inability of airpower strategists to be competitive in the contest of ideas has been detrimental to the ongoing development of the airpower. He argues that airpower theory and strategy must not only be innovative and effective, it must be widely understood by more than just the airpower practitioner. Integrating Boyd’s purpose and Warden’s form of strategic paralysis, and supported by a new set of terms (knowledge dominance, fleeting footprint, rapid halt) that enable the shift away from the Napoleonic concepts of the battle, Stephens’s chapter addresses the failures in previous theories outlined by Faber in an early chapter. In so doing, he provides a clear and coherent starting point from which the long-delayed but much-needed paradigm shift in strategic thought that airpower requires can commence. The book concludes with Colin Gray’s presentation of a 27 ‘dicta’ (Gray’s preferred term) general theory of airpower. Gray’s 27 dicta are clear, concise, well explained, and are generally supportive of the concepts raised in the preceding chapter. The dicta vary from the logical and well-accepted ‘Airpower has persisting characteristic strengths and weaknesses’; to the more nuanced ‘airpower has strategic effect, but is not inherently strategic’; to the abrupt ‘strategy for airpower is not all about targeting; Douhet was wrong’. Just as important as the clarity of the dicta is Gray’s warning not to use them as a replacement for independent thought. Wary that readers may have a preference to quote rather than comprehend, Gray concludes his chapter, and the book, with a statement that is worth quoting at length as it captures the book’s underlying theme: ‘Airpower theory should be permitted to educate only in how to approach the actual challenges of ever-changing airpower. The theory ought not to be raided for direct value as added authority in aid of some contestable preference today. If airpower’s general theory is deployed to do battle on the issue of the day, it is nearly certain that it will be abused, misused, and, as a result, suffer loss of authority. Airpower theory can only guide us in how to think, not what to think.’ Although well written, Airpower Reborn is challenging, as should be expected from a book that seeks to spark a paradigm-shift in military thought. Accordingly, it is not a book that can simply be read, absorbed and quoted; rather, it requires the reader to engage with the ideas, question their own assumptions and those of the authors, and debate the concepts that the authors advocate. For this reason, this book is a must read for any Air Force officer attending Command and Staff College as it will provide a strong foundation from which to understand, debate, and further develop a working knowledge of airpower theory and strategy. It also has much to offer a broader readership wishing to deepen their understanding of airpower’s history and future. Although some readers may not be swayed by the case the book presents, the quality of the chapters will challenge the engaged reader to think deeply about the points that are raised. Squadron Leader Travis Hallen is an Air Combat Officer in the Royal Australian Air Force. He is also a Sir Richard Williams Foundation Scholar and editor at The Central Blue. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect those of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government. #Douhet #Review #Strategy #AirPower #Education

Recent incidents of civilian casualties resulting from air strikes in Syria, Yemen, and Afghanistan have brought the spotlight back onto air power strategy and targeting in times of conflict. In this cross-post from ASPI’s blog The Strategist, Andrew Davies reminds the reader that, although these incidents may rightly be condemned, history provides a cautionary tale of how the ethics of liberal democracies can give way to perceived strategic requirements when they perceive that there ‘back is to the wall’. There’s been a slew of criticism recently of Russian and Saudi bombing of civilian areas during Middle East conflicts. And there’s evidence that the Russian bombing campaign in particular isn’t going out of its way to avoid destruction of civilian targets, with a predictable loss of life. If we can take Russian supplied videos of bombing missions over Syria at face value, the delivery of a stick of unguided ‘gravity bombs’ is a long way from precision targeting of targets identified by intelligence as terrorist related. In contrast, it hasn’t been unusual for missions flown by the US and its allies to return with unreleased precision weapons because targets couldn’t be reliably identified. Even with recent more permissive rules of engagement, weapons release is authorised only against IS or its support elements. That’s not to say that western air strikes haven’t also hit civilian targets in both Iraq/Syria and Afghanistan, killing non-combatants in the process. And in at least one incident, when a Doctors without Borders hospital in Kunduz was attacked by a USAF gunship, the litany of errors involved in the coordination of the attack doesn’t inspire confidence in the supporting decision making processes. That’s not to draw a moral equivalence between the Russian and coalition activities. Hitting the wrong target with precision weaponry, however tragic the outcome, is clearly less reckless and less dismissive of the established norms of warfare than delivering unguided weaponry into civilian areas. But the level of restraint shown by western forces in recent conflicts hasn’t always been the case. And it’s salutary to ponder the approach taken in the strategic bombing offensive during WW2, if only to remind ourselves how even a principled society can shift from the higher moral ground. I was taken down this line of thought by a remark made to me by an aviation writer friend recently, that the only bomber in production in Britain by 1944 should have been the De Havilland Mosquito. We’d been talking about the cost effectiveness of weapons delivery at the time, and he pointed out that the twin-engined Mosquito could deliver a significant tonnage of bombs more accurately and with fewer losses per ton of bombs delivered than the larger (and thus more resource intensive) four-engined Lancasters and Halifaxes that formed the bulk of the RAF’s Bomber Command. As well, the Mosquito had a crew of two, versus seven in the ‘heavies’. He was right, as the RAF’s own data (in a 1944 paper Note on the employment of the Mosquito aircraft in the strategic bomber offensive, reprinted in this book) shows: ‘Weight for weight, the small losses at present being incurred by Mosquito bombers give them an outstanding advantage over the heavy bomber. Mosquitoes dropped 203 tons of bombs per aircraft missing… the figure for the heavy bomber was 70 tons. [In terms of] aircrew missing per tons dropped [the advantage is ten to one]’. The Mosquito also had superior availability due to lower maintenance requirements and could fly twice as many sorties per month per aircraft. They were also capable of higher precision than the heavy bombers—which is why Mosquitoes were often used as ‘pathfinders’, laying flares to guide the other aircraft to the target. The relative precision achieved by the Mosquito made it ideally suited for challenging targets such as Amiens Prison, the POW Camp targeted during Operation Jericho. This image, taken from an accompanying reconnaissance aircraft (also a Mosquito), shows the strike Mosquito with bomb bays open. [Image Credit: Imperial War Museum] So why wasn’t my friend right—why was the significantly less efficient heavy bomber force kept flying right to the end of the war in Europe? One answer might be that it would disrupt production to swap types being produced in the aircraft factories, but the much lower materiel input requirements for Mosquito production would tend to offset that. The RAF’s answer can be found in the same document: ‘The Mosquito is not at present capable of carrying a useful load of incendiary bombs. Up to 70% of the damage in area attacks is caused by fire and the attack of cities by [high explosives] alone would normally be unprofitable.’ In other words, the Mosquito was less useful when the aim was to raze a city to the ground, killing and displacing its civilian population, rather than directly attacking military targets and industrial plants producing weapons. Britain started WW2 believing that bombing civilians was wrong. But in the first years of the war British bombers struggled to find German cities, let alone conduct strikes against industrial areas within them. So the strategic bombing campaign evolved into a campaign to level German cities, destroying industrial capacity in the process and, by killing a great many people, to break the will of the German people to resist. While there was a big effect on industrial output, civilians paid a high price. The aptly named 1943 Operation Gomorrah created a firestorm that killed 40,000 people in Hamburg, and as late as February 1945 another firestorm killed 30,000 people in Dresden. Physicist Freeman Dyson, who worked for Bomber Command in operations analysis, describes how far the British moral compass had swung (video interview here): ‘The Germans had good air raid shelters and warning systems and did what they were told. As a result, only a few thousand people were killed in a typical major attack. But when there was a firestorm, people were asphyxiated or roasted inside their shelters, and the number killed was more than 10 times greater. Every time Bomber Command attacked a city, we were trying to raise a firestorm…’ So in opting against a Mosquito-based force, Bomber Command effectively opted for the widespread destruction of civilian areas over a more focused approach of attacking war-supporting industrial targets, even when the technical means to do so had emerged. That all happened in a time of total war against an iniquitous enemy, and while we might think we’re better than that now (and I think we’re right to criticise the Russian approach in Syria), we don’t know what might happen in a ‘backs to the wall’ war. The lessons of history tell us that we need to be on guard, because it’s possible to slip into a regime where the proscriptions against abhorrent behaviour give way. Andrew Davies is senior analyst for defence capability and director of research at ASPI. This post first appeared on APSI’s blog The Strategist on 14 Oct 16 #Strategy #AirPower #Targeting #CivilianCasualties #CollateralDamage

Though a work of fiction, Ghost Fleet stimulates the reader’s thinking about a broad range of ideas and issues, encouraging open-mindedness and innovation. This is the type of thinking necessary for the success of the Royal Australian Air Force’s Plan JERICHO. [Image Credit: Amazon.com] Ghost Fleet has attracted extensive attention among military commentators since it was published in 2015, culminating in co-author August Cole’s presentation to at the 2016 Air Power Conference. While well-researched and very well marketed, the extent to which the book offers value to military professionals will ultimately be determined by the reader themselves. The book’s overarching plot is not in itself particularly surprising. Set in the near future following a range of global socio-economic crises, the People’s Republic of China is now ruled by a military-industrial consortium known as the Directorate. Facing petroleum resource pressure, Directorate geophysicists discover gas reserves in the Marianas trench, within United States Exclusive Economic Zone protection. In coalition with Russia, the Directorate then mounts a surprise military attack on Hawaii and deployed United States Pacific forces, the rapid success of which leads  to the collapse of NATO and redefinition of the world order. Central to the success of the Directorate’s offensive was the integration of their use of their extensive space, cyber, and drone capabilities, coupled with other unconventional warfare techniques, which rendered the modern capabilities of the US and its allies impotent. The regularly quoted example of the tactics employed relates to the processors within US systems such as the F-35. These processors were designed in China to contain latent malware, then introduced into the marketplace to be eventually sourced by Defence contractors for use in the F-35 program. As the Directorate attack unfolds, the malware is activated to generate a homing signal for Directorate missile systems, rendering the JSF’s stealth features worthless. From a purely critical perspective, the reader could be distracted by a focus on literary aspects: Is the plot unrealistic with respect to China’s attack even in the context set? Is the response of the other geo-strategic players artificially shaped to lead to the plot’s climactic battle for Hawaii rather than reflecting any likely shift in the global balance of power? Are the characters (on both sides) somewhat stereotypical in their morals and motivations? In a similar manner, a military reader could also be distracted by the validity of the strategies applied by the protagonists, or the limited depth to which Sun Tzu’s and Thayer-Mahan’s strategic concepts are explored and explained. Both approaches miss the real utility of the book – this piece of fiction is a platform to stimulate readers’ thinking about a broad range of ideas and issues. Singer and Cole themselves have been at the forefront of highlighting this intent, emphasising in a range of forums how fiction offers the opportunity to explore military concepts without any of the constraints of physical and technical realities. Critics might argue that this is nothing new for the military; fictional scenarios involving a potential adversary have been central to our professional development from the tactical to the strategic level in war-games throughout history. And while a key limitation of those war-games has historically been resource constraints, recent developments in live, virtual and constructive (LVC) simulations have partially addressed this issue, allowing far greater reality in training than had previously been the case. The counter-argument in favour of fiction is that it doesn’t suffer the same tight controls as exercises and war-games, in which availability of people, funding, time and technology still provide limits to what can be achieved, even with LVC. In writing Ghost Fleet, Singer and Cole were not constrained by a limited set of objectives defined and prioritised by a higher command and nor are their readers. They were free to raise ideas and concepts that some organisations may find unwelcome or confronting or from which some organisations might genuinely benefit; ideas and concepts that the reader can then choose to explore to attain a deeper level of understanding themselves based on which of these interests or appeals to them. The prime example in Ghost Fleet is centred on Western militaries’ reliance on their technological edge. Singer and Cole ask what would happen if this were denied to them or if they found themselves at a disadvantage. In an Australian sense, given the F-35’s centrality to our concept of air superiority, its immediate irrelevance in the opening stage of this conflict cannot help but stimulate thinking. True, we could simply deny the likelihood of such a compromise, but the fact this is fiction forces us to consider what we might do in such a situation without the need to commit any resources beyond the open and innovative minds of our people. This highlights an important aspect of Singer and Cole’s work. They have researched thoroughly the technologies described to show that the events they describe are at least possible in the future, even if we might find them implausible. From space-based systems to industrial sabotage planned years in advance, unconventional attacks using civilian-flagged merchant militia and extensive cyber-warfare, the Directorate’s attack provokes thought on the security and capability of our platforms and networks. This extends beyond the technological aspect to take into account a range of tactics, techniques and procedures developed in response to this attack. Denied the technological advantage they had assumed for so long, the US and their allies find themselves forced to innovate. Retired platforms with more secure, self-contained systems are recalled into service, while the remnants of US military forces in Hawaii mount an insurgency based on the lessons they had learned through the Iraq and Afghanistan campaigns. I would argue that this theme, of open-minded and innovative thinking, is the key takeaway from Ghost Fleet for Air Force. Plan JERICHO looks to leverage the technologies offered by the advanced platforms we will acquire over the next ten to fifteen years. However, JERICHO also challenges us to think about our operational concepts and the vulnerabilities of our organisation, rather than simply assume this technology coupled with our current paradigms will assure us victory. JERICHO demands that we ‘red-team’ the way we do business so that we can innovate and improve. Ghost Fleet provides an example of how that red-teaming can be achieved through fiction. WGCDR Jason Begley is an Air Combat Officer in the Royal Australian Air Force. He is also a Sir Richard Williams Foundation Scholar and PhD candidate at the University of New South Wales. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect those of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government. #China #F35 #Fiction #Strategy

In the right circumstances Ground-Based Air Defence can be a game-changer. Given that the Australian Defence Force invariably deploys when it fights, it is a capability our defence planners need to take more seriously. The popular image of the fight to win control of the air is one of scores of fighters locked in swirling dogfights, epitomised by the Battle of Britain in World War II and MiG Alley in Korea. A less well-known method of asserting air control is Ground-Based Air Defence (GBAD), which in certain circumstances has been very successful. GBAD incorporates all or some of surface-to-air missiles, anti-aircraft artillery, early-warning systems, and command and control centres, almost invariably in fixed locations. It has often been the choice of technologically modest and under-resourced forces opposed to superior opponents. The battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954 was a prime example. Despite not even having an air force, the Viet Minh (North Vietnam) were able to assert control of the air over their technologically-advanced French enemies using an ad hoc GBAD system. Dien Bien Phu was one of a number of remote fortified camps the French established hoping to draw their elusive enemy into “meat-grinder” set-piece battles. Because of the camps’ isolation, their airstrips were vital for resupply, reinforcement, and launching close air attack missions, which in turn made local control of the air essential. The French believed their airstrip at Dien Bien Phu could not be threatened. But the Viet Minh confounded French expectations by using 30,000 peasant labourers to man-handle two regiments of artillery and heavy mortars though the jungle onto the hilltops overlooking Dien Bien Phu. The Viet Minh now dominated the airstrip, which they made almost unusable. With their lifeline cut, the French were eventually over-run. Egypt similarly employed GBAD to negate Israel’s overwhelmingly superior air force during the first week of the October 1973 Arab-Israeli War. In the June 1967 Six-Day War, the Egyptian Air Force had been destroyed on the ground by the Israeli Air Force in a matter of hours. Learning from that experience, in 1973 Egypt’s leaders essentially kept their air force out of harm’s way and relied instead on an intensive GBAD system of missiles and AAA, especially along the Suez Canal. Complacent after its 1967 victory, the IAF was caught unprepared for this different threat and in the first few days lost about 15 percent of its strike/fighters. The loss rate was unsustainable. It was only after Israeli tanks and paratroopers had smashed a gap in the Egyptians’ GBAD barrier through which Israel’s jets could safely fly that the IAF was able to assert its usual dominance over the battlefield. Egypt’s use of GBAD was a clever tactic which succeeded for a week against a technologically and operationally vastly superior force. An even more striking result was achieved by mujahideen guerillas fighting against Soviet invaders in Afghanistan between 1979 and 1989. Initially the Soviets enjoyed uncontested air supremacy, which enabled their Mi-8 and Mi-25 heavy-lift and attack helicopters to play an apparently war-winning role, with the guerillas being unable to cope with the manoeuvre and firepower the helicopters provided. However, the situation changed dramatically in 1986 when the US supplied the mujahideen with Stinger shoulder-launched anti-aircraft missiles. In the next three years the guerillas shot-down some 270 Soviet helicopters, creating a decisive shift of momentum in the war. Australia’s post-World War II experience with GBAD has been slight. The Army has operated small numbers of short-range, point-defence-only weapons which could scarcely be described as a system. The RAAF went much further in 1961 when it established No. 30 Squadron at Williamtown, equipped with Bloodhound surface-to-air missiles and early-warning radars. With an intercept envelope of 45 kilometres range and 9000 to 50,000 feet altitude, the Bloodhound was typical of its generation. It was also typically inflexible. Even with a (dubious) claimed kill-probability of 90 percent for each salvo of four missiles fired, scores of batteries would have been required to defend Australia’s many high-value targets. Following No. 30 Squadron’s disbandment in 1968, the RAAF has shown little interest in GBAD systems. Indeed, applying the maxim that attack is the best form of defence, the RAAF’s approach to the broader issue of control of the air has been active rather than passive. Of note here is the recent acquisition of twelve EA-18G Growler electronic attack aircraft, which can detect and jam most – some commentators say all – known forms of surface-to-air threats. Australia’s 2016 Defence White Paper flagged an intention to acquire a new short-range GBAD system for the Army “by the early 2020s” and a medium-range system by the “mid-to-late 2020s”. These are good intentions but, to state the obvious, the time-frame is relaxed. As the experiences outlined in this article illustrate (and there are more), in the right circumstances GBAD can be a game-changer. Given that the Australian Defence Force invariably deploys when it fights, it is a capability our defence planners need to take more seriously. Cody Stephens is a law graduate who works in technology and innovation research #Afghanistan #IsraeliAirForce #GBAD #AirPower #Stingermissiles

Air Force needs to embrace the potential of fiction in the development of the minds of its airmen. Not only will it make Professional Military Education and Training slightly more enjoyable, it may also give rise to a career-long engagement with professional development that will serve Air Force far beyond the immediate needs of individual promotion courses. Let’s face it, Air Force Professional Military Education and Training (PMET) is boring. This is an unfortunate reality, but a reality nonetheless. Part of the reason for the tedium of professional development is an understandable organisational belief in the importance of doctrine, policy, and history in shaping the mind of the professional airman and future leader. Though these are undoubtedly important, excessive focus on them in the development of an airman’s mind has the negative consequence of associating PMET with a form of purgatory; a necessary period of suffering that must be endured before one can attain the pleasures of promotion. Although it is impossible, at least to my mind, to make the majority of airmen delight in the prospect of PMET, it is possible to make it a little more interesting, engaging, and therefore ultimately more bearable. One way this can be done is through the increased use of fiction in the curriculum. HG Wells’s ‘The War in the Air’ demonstrates the utility of fiction in exploring novel concepts. [Author’s tagged copy] The use of fiction in education is by no means a novel idea (no pun intended). I’d be surprised if any of the readers of this post didn’t have fond (or perhaps not so fond) memories of the fiction they were required to read throughout their schooling. In my case, The Grapes of Wrath, To Kill a Mockingbird, Hamlet, and The Shiralee seem to have left an indelible imprint on me. But in terms of professional military education, the role of fiction is more contested. Recently The Strategy Bridge reposted an article it had originally published in mid-2015 that looked at the role of Fiction for the Strategist. In that article Diane Maye highlighted three roles for fiction in a strategist’s development: enabling a sense of feeling of others’ experience, providing a tool for social experimentation, and improving the understanding of the complexities of decision making. Maye’s post was itself a response to another blogger’s assertion that ‘in the realm of strategy, fiction is far less wonderful than it is dangerous.’ The recent reinvigoration of this debate led me to contemplate the role fiction plays in the development of the professional airman, something that I have not seen nor heard discussed in any of the forums in which I am engaged. I have come to the conclusion that there currently does not appear to be a place for fiction in Air Force PMET. This must change. In looking at the role of fiction in air power education I am not limiting myself to the novel format, nor even to the written word. Fiction takes many forms, from short stories, such as those found on The Art of Future Warfare, to multi-episode film series, the ever expanding Star Wars franchise being the exemplar here, and many things in between. Each style of fiction has its own utility in expanding the mind of the consumer, and each consumer has a preference for different formats. It is therefore important when exploring the role of fiction not to default to a position that classic literature is the only useful fiction in educating the mind; requiring junior airmen to read War and Peace would be unlikely to achieve the desired effect of PMET engagement. The selection of the works to be used must therefore balance appeal, accessibility, and educational utility; not an easy balance to find given the scarcity of fiction relating to air power. But this process will be made easier by bearing in mind the effect that fiction is intended to have on an airman’s intellectual development. Ghost Fleet has become the exemplar of modern military educational fiction [Image Credit: Amazon.com] I see there being two distinct but related effects that should be explored. The first is educational and aligns with the traditional view of PMET. The best way to explore this effect is through the lens of the PMET themes, the five areas that PMET aims to address at each rank level: communications, military management, air power, leadership, and values and ethics. Although there are some areas that are not conducive to the use of fiction (Defence Financial Management being an excellent example) many are. Well written novels or short stories are excellent tools for improving a person’s communication skills, particularly the quality of their writing; sure we don’t want briefs turned into literature, but this does not mean that Defence writing cannot be improved by some exposure to quality narrative writing. Understanding air power is one area where Air Force has actively embraced fiction. Ghost Fleet: A Novel of the Next World War has become the exemplar of military educational fiction due to its examination of the changing character of modern/near-future warfare and its implications for military force development. One of the co-authors, August Cole, was even invited to present at the 2016 Royal Australian Air Force Air Power Conference, where he used his novel as the basis for examining 5th Generation air power concepts.  Similarly, fiction offers a wide array of options to explore concepts of leadership, values, and ethics. Examples here include Ender’s Game (both novel and movie) to explore the many dimensions of leadership and Catch 22 as an interesting medium to explore military values and ethics. These are but a few examples that spring to mind when considering the current PMET construct. A deeper more considered examination of what is available will undoubtedly uncover a wealth of previously underappreciated fiction that could play a role in reshaping the way Air Force develops the minds of its airmen. This leads me into the second, longer term effect and the one that is more difficult to achieve and quantify; changing the attitude of airmen towards continuous professional development. By getting airmen to engage with interesting material and products that require them to think laterally, PMET may actually encourage a career-long engagement in learning. By this I do not mean creating a generation of bookworms (though that is not necessarily a bad goal to have), but rather by making airmen look deeper into the subtlety of fiction and identify leadership, ethical, military or strategic lessons they develop a skill whereby they may well continue to look for these lessons (consciously or subconsciously) whenever they engage with fiction. This form of continual learning holds benefits for Air Force far beyond the immediate understanding of ever-changing policy and doctrine publications. In closing, I’d like to open this topic up and draw on the wealth of experience and diversity of perspective among the readership. I invite readers to provide comment on some of the questions raised in the post above, namely: Does fiction have a role in professional military education? What are the works of fiction that have contributed to their professional development? What works could/should be included at the various rank levels within Air Force? Would fiction indeed make professional military education a more ‘enjoyable’ endeavour? It is my hope that this post and the discussion it generates will lead Air Force to re-examine its approach to PMET. For PMET to be truly effective it must do more than focus on ensuring airmen read policy and doctrine, it must inspire an engagement with career-long professional development. Increasing the use of fiction in the continuum can go a long way to achieving this. The suggestion here is not that policy and doctrine should be excised from PMET, nor that fiction must play a part in every aspect, both would be unwise, but rather to look beyond the dry texts and embrace the potential that the richer and more entertaining world of fiction offers. If nothing else, fiction holds the potential for airmen engage with their own professional development in a way that policy and doctrine cannot hope to compete. That alone justifies the effort involved in exploring a role for fiction in PMET. Squadron Leader Travis Hallen is an Air Combat Officer in the Royal Australian Air Force. He is also a Sir Richard Williams Foundation Scholar and editor at The Central Blue. The opinions expressed are his alone and do not reflect those of the Royal Australian Air Force, the Australian Defence Force, or the Australian Government. #AirPower #Education #Fiction #PMET

Dr Ross Mahoney responds to Robbin Laird’s post referring to the F-35 as a 1st Gen flying combat system. Using a platform to define air power concepts is not a new phenomenon, and while we need to encourage innovative thinking about air power we must be willing and able to critique the rise of new buzzwords and the ideas underpin them. In a previous post, The F-35 and the Transformation of Power Projection Forces, Robbin Laird suggested that rather than describing the F-35 Lightning II as a 5th Generation aircraft, we must think of it as ‘a first generation information and decision making superiority “flying combat system”.’ (Emphasis in original) Arguably, this is an important shift in how we think about the capabilities of this new platform and the implications this has regarding how we think about air power. However, this labelling of platforms and capabilities raises several interesting observations and what follows are some personal opinions on the issue of ‘labels.’ I have heard similar phrases before namely Giulio Douhet’s ‘battleplane’ concept [Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons] First, and while we should always be careful of generating faulty parallels, as a historian, I am quite certain I have heard similar phrases before namely Giulio Douhet’s ‘battleplane’ concept. In short, in the second edition of his seminal work Command of the Air, published in 1926, Douhet argued that the roles of combat and bombing should be combined with a single type of aircraft, the ‘battleplane.’ This was a move away from his thinking outlined in the 1921 edition of Command of the Air, but as Thomas Hippler has noted, at a conceptual level, the ‘battleplane’ was important because it allowed Douhet to reconcile the ideas of war in the air and war from the air.[1] For Douhet, both were synonymous and one, though whether this proposed platform would have solved that challenge remains debatable. This was clearly a lesson derived from Douhet’s views of the First World War. Nevertheless, the problem with the ‘battleplane’ idea is that it was a solution to one set of circumstances and would not have applied to all situations where the use of air power might have been called upon. Could we end up in the same situation if we think of the F-35 in a similar vein? Second, a broader issue with Laird’s description is that of buzzwords or phrases. Buzzwords tend to be created to support someone’s vision of the future, and they are unhelpful if not grounded in some form of intellectual rigour. Indeed, buzzwords and phrases are certainly not something limited to air forces but pervade the military more broadly. For example, in the last few days, it has been reported that the US Navy’s Chief of Naval Operations has decided to shelve the use of Anti-Access/Area-Denial as a ‘stand-alone acronym’ primarily because it ‘can mean all things to all people or anything to anyone.’[2] This is an important point, and the same can be said of effects-based operations, which was fashionable in the late 1990s and early 2000s.[3] Both of these strategies are ideas that have history, and we should be careful about trying to re-invent the wheel. As I recently heard from one colleague, if you want a new idea, read an old book. As such, is the description being applied to the F-35 helpful when thinking about the application of air power? It is indeed being linked to the idea of 5th generation strategy, but we must continually ask the question within the question and seek to understand what is underpinning such statements. For example, is the platform important or the ideas about their use? Also, should we be careful about linking platforms to strategy? Nevertheless, while I would advocate the need to critique statements, such as Laird’s, there is certainly always a case to build new language and ideas to explain future challenges. This is particularly important for air power because, since the end of the Cold War, it has become, arguably, the West’s preferred way of war.[4] Nevertheless, as Tony Mason reflected, ‘while our technology is lifting us into the 21st century, our formative concepts remain rooted in a bygone age.'[5] This comment remains as relevant today as it did in 1998. While today’s core air power roles can be identified in the activities of the First World War, it is perhaps an axiom that as with any field of human endeavour, the language and ideas about the use of military aviation should and must evolve as time goes by and situations change. ‘While our technology is lifting us into the 21st century, our formative concepts remain rooted in a bygone age.’ [A Number 1 Squadron RAAF F/A-18F Super Hornet in formation with an F2B, the type flown by the Squadron during the First World War. Image credit: David White of www.canvaswings.com] This, however, raises my third point of how we improve and encourage the conceptual thinking that underpins many of the statements made by commentators and practitioners. It is ok to have opinions and advocate them; however, they must be derived from the intellectual study of the field. Indeed, while advocacy can create friction, that friction, in turn, can generate innovation, which is important if organisations are to adapt to changing strategic, operational and organisational shifts. However, it should also be recognised and understood that such friction needs to be managed so that it does not become divisive as it arguably did at the strategic level between the RAF and Royal Navy in the inter-service debates of the 1920s. This is clearly an issue of education, and how that process is utilised and retained by air forces. This is difficult for western air forces primarily because they have been involved in sustained operations for at least the past decade. This has not given air forces significant time to think and reflect on their craft as their focus has been elsewhere. Nevertheless, air forces have, where possible promoted thinking. For example, the modern RAF runs a fellowship to encourage study and expand the Service’s ‘intellectual capacity.’ However, this intellectualising of air power needs to filter back into the development of thinking, policy and doctrine and refresh the lexicon while providing the necessary foundations to attempts to redraw conceptual boundaries. Just to conclude, this is clearly a thought piece and does not propose any solutions to the challenges of today; however, we should be very careful about the labels we apply to platforms, capabilities and concepts. Terminology, as the discussion section of Laird’s piece, illustrated, matters and has a tendency to carry cultural baggage. In developing effective thinking about the application of air power as part of the solution to strategic challenges, air forces need to think about their place in the pantheon of options open to policy makers. I would argue that in an age of austerity and uncertainty, this requires air forces an investment in the organisation’s human element to generate the capacity to think effectively about the conceptual component. This post originally appeared on From Balloons to Drones on 9 October 2016. Dr Ross Mahoney is the resident Aviation Historian at the RAF Museum, UK. A specialist on air power, he is currently writing on social and cultural history of the inter-war RAF. He is also researching the culture, ethos and ethics of the RAAF and command and staff training in the RAF. He is the editor of ‘From Balloons to Drones.’ The views presented here do not represent those of my employer, the Royal Air Force Museum, or the Royal Air Force or the Ministry of Defence. [1] Thomas Hippler, Bombing the People: Giulio Douhet and the Foundation of Air-Power Strategy, 1884-1939 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), p. 147. [2] Sam LaGrone, ‘CNO Richardson: Navy Shelving A2/AD Acronym,’ USNI News, 3 October 2016. Also, see: B.J. Armstrong, ‘The Shadow of Air-Sea Battle and the Sinking of A2AD,’ War on the Rocks, 5 October 2016. [3] For a useful discussion of effects-based warfare that takes account of historical and contemporary views as well as a multi-domain approach, see: Christopher Finn (ed.) Effects Based Warfare (London: The Stationary Office, 2002). [4] For useful views on future air power thinking, see: John Andreas Olsen (ed.), Airpower Reborn: The Strategic Concepts of John Warden and John Boyd (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2015). [5] Air Vice-Marshal Professor Tony Mason, ‘The Future of Air Power,’ RAF Air Power Review, 1(1) (1998), p. 42. #AirPower #Battleplane #Douhet #F35

Dr Robbin Laird summarises interviews he recently conducted with the RAAF’s chief of staff, Air Marshal Leo Davies; the commander of the RAAF’s Air Combat Group, Air Commodore Steven Roberton; and the USAF’s commander of Air Combat Command, General Herbert J. “Hawk” Carlisle. Dr Laird: “Your Super Hornets flew for the first time in combat in the Middle East with F-22s. What was the experience and what did you learn from that?” AIRMSHL Davies: “We have flown in Red Flag with F-22s and that training was crucial to operations in the Middle East. The pilots came back and said “it was just like in Red Flag”. For us, at the moment the F-22 is a surrogate for the F-35, although with regard to combat systems and roles the F-35 will be superior to the F-22. But the point is to get the operational experience.” Air Commodore Steven Roberton, who was also the first commander of Australian Air Task Group 630 in the Middle East in September 2014, highlighted the impact of the F-22 on the RAAF and its operations, and noted that his recent combat experience with the F-22 highlighted the transition to a fifth generation-enabled concept of operations as a core contributor to the way ahead for the RAAF: AIRCDRE Roberton: “In broad terms (the F-22s) have the fifth generation sensor package which can help provide information you wouldn’t otherwise get from something standing off. “We’ve got great capabilities in Wedgetail (AEW&C), but sometimes you really need a penetrating capability that can use the full spectrum and pass on information closer to the target. “Operating our Super Hornets with the F-22s and receiving their data allowed us to operate more effectively. Our training with the F-22s in exercises like Red Flag has been crucial not only to prepare ourselves for combat but also to rethink how we operate our own fighter fleet. “We have adapted a lot of our tactics and procedures to do that same sort of leverage that the F-22 practices with the [F-15] Eagle community but clearly at lower levels between our Super Hornet to Hornet. That becomes pretty important for us to get the most out of our classic Hornets. “In other words, we are adapting our concepts of operations anticipating the entry into service of the F-35 and the readjustment of the role of the Super Hornet. We are preparing ourselves thereby for the transition to the F-35 enabled force. The Super Hornets and Growlers are enhancing our current capabilities, and we can work through how the F-35 will redefine their roles in the evolving force. We know we’ve got a lot to learn. “One problem with how people interpret the F-35 is thinking fifth generation is only about stealth; it is about data fusion and the capability to make the other air combat assets more viable and effective. It is a significant force multiplier.” In other words, the RAAF is working a fifth generation warfare transition under the impact of their own experience and that of operating with the F-22 in the Middle East. Although it was interesting to discuss this transition in Australia, it made a great deal of sense to go to where the F-22s are based to generate the Australian operations. Subsequently, during a visit to Langley AFB, I was able to interview General Herbert J. “Hawk” Carlisle, the Commander of the USAF’s Air Combat Command. General Carlisle discussed the implementation of a fifth generation warfare approach, the impact of the F-22, and the coming of the F-35 upon the re-working of fleet ops seen in the Middle East and elsewhere. Throughout our meeting he emphasised the importance of the training transition throughout the fleet, not simply the operation of the F-22 and the coming of the F-35 as in and of themselves. The issue is one of force transformation, not simply the operation of fifth generation aircraft. GEN Carlisle: “It is important to look at the impact of the F-22 operations on the total force. We do not wish, nor do the allies wish, to send aircraft into a contested area without the presence of the F-22. “It’s not just that the F-22s are so good, it’s that they make every other plane better. They change the dynamic with respect to what the other airplanes are able to do because of what they can do with regard to speed, range, and flexibility. “It’s their stealth quality. It’s their sensor fusion. It’s their deep penetration capability. It’s the situational awareness they provide for the entire fleet which raises the level of the entire combat fleet to make everybody better. “The shift is to a new way of operating. “What is crucial as well is training for the evolving fight, and not just remaining in the mindset or mental furniture of the past. “The F-22s … make the Eagles better, and the A-10s better, and the F-16s better. They make the bombers better. They provide information. They enable the entire fight. And it’s information dominance, it’s sensor fusion capability, it’s a situational awareness that they can provide to the entire package which raises the level of our capabilities in the entire fight. This is not about some distant future; it’s about the current fight.” General Carlisle emphasised the need to shift from a fourth generation mentality where a large combat force is moved to enable any single platform, such as the A-10. It entails a change of mentality to fifth generation thought. GEN Carlisle: “It’s the way we train the airman and the crews. It’s the scenarios we put them through. It’s the Red Flags and the integration phase of weapon school. What we teach right now is fifth generation con-ops. That includes the Raptors and what they bring to the fight, and the F-35s and what they bring to the fight, and what the cyber systems bring to the fight. “How do you bring space into that environment? How does C2 operate inside of an information flow that is inside of anything the adversary can do? How do you put the C2 at the point that it can execute at a rate and with information superiority that is far greater than an adversary can react to? “And then it’s the way we train our airmen to think in fifth generation terms, rather than just flying a new platform.” General Carlisle also emphasised that in the current Middle Eastern operations, F-22s because of their multi-mission flexibilities are pressed into duty across the spectrum of operations and perform a variety of missions for the force, ranging from C-2 to ISR to strike to air defense to other tasks. Dr Laird: “How important to the evolution of fifth generation enabled warfare is the ability to fly low observable aircraft against each other?” GEN Carlisle: “We think it is very important. We are shaping tactics and approaches for LO aircraft to fight LO aircraft, and to think in terms of LO enabled forces to fight against LO enabled combat forces. “The F-35 brings incredible EW and other capabilities into the fight and how do we operate those capabilities in a jamming and non-jamming environment for legacy systems or LO-enabled legacy systems? How do we build a realistic threat to be able to do that? We are working on it.” Dr Laird: “Training to leverage fifth generation capabilities is crucial to the modernization and training of the other elements of the air combat force so that those elements are adjusting their thinking and approaches as well. How do you view this challenge?” GEN Carlisle: “With the need to use our training funds to prepare for the threats we are facing and will face, we need our airmen and crews to think forward not backwards towards yesterday’s concepts of operations. Training for the concepts, which enabled the legacy aircraft is simply not what we need to do going forward. “And with our young and innovative airmen, they are going out there and reinventing approaches to warfare. “Fourth generation systems can operate much better and more effectively when enabled by fifth generation SA and information, but that will not happen by itself, and requires rethinking how fourth generation systems will operate going forward. We have young airmen who are flying F-15Es or F-16CJs and they’re going, hey, the Raptor can give me a particular capability. “The Lightning can provide an additional capability, which means I can do something which I could not do before. It’s designed for this but I can make it do something different, and make it even better. “And that thought process really is a fifth generation dynamic of change, but it does not happen if you do not put fifth generation in the driver’s seat driving that process of change. It is not about improving the techniques of what we used to do; it is about rethinking fundamentally how we shape and execute information dominance in a fluid battlespace.” Dr Laird: “How important are key allies like Australia in shaping an innovative approach going forward?” GEN Carlisle: “The F-35 is a global aircraft and will provide significant opportunities for cross-cutting learning. The RAAF is at the cutting edge of rethinking warfare, under the influence of fifth generation capabilities. “I think the RAAF because their size comes with a relative lack of bureaucracy and a more open approach are actually leaning further forward in some areas than we are. “But I think the joint aspect of the F-35 will be a powerful engine of change for the air services in the US as the Marines, the USAF and the USN work through lessons learned going forward from using their F-35s and reshaping on joint concepts of operations. In this sense the F-35 really is a central part of our broader effort to transformation jointness.” Dr Robbin F. Laird is a military and security analyst who has taught at Columbia, Princeton and Johns Hopkins universities, and has worked for the Center for Defense Analyses and the Institute for Defense Analyses.

The shift from analogue to digital technology that started in the late-1950s and gained serious momentum in the 1970s has now reached lift-off speed. Innovations based on this radical development include advanced computing, the internet, robotics, and artificial intelligence. Such is the magnitude of the change that these and similar technologies are driving that many commentators believe we have entered a “Third Industrial Revolution”. Like its predecessors, the Third Industrial Revolution is expected to create dramatic social and economic change, in this instance by hollowing-out workforces by up to 80 per cent as people increasingly are replaced by robotics. Because air power is an intensely technological business, its practitioners are well-placed to prosper in this new environment. Air forces have always substituted machines for manpower. This approach will become even more pronounced as the current industrial revolution continues to enhance the already formidable capabilities of UAVs and other unmanned weapons (for example, loitering ISR and strike systems). The emphasis air forces have placed on technology has created a distinctive employment model. Whereas the nature of land and sea warfare has made it necessary for armies and navies to take large numbers of people into the field or out to sea, only a very small proportion of an air force takes to the skies. The RAAF, for example, has a “warrior” clique of only 700 pilots, less than 100 of whom fly strike/fighters. In other words, compared to armies and navies, air forces will be relatively unaffected by the inexorable replacement in warfare of people by machines. The Third Industrial Revolution has also increased the likelihood that land and sea power will be replaced to an even greater extent by air power. This ongoing process evokes the controversial “substitution” debate in British defence circles in the 1920s and 1930s. When the (British) Royal Air Force was formed as the world’s first independent air force in 1918 it faced bitter opposition from the British army and navy; consequently, the RAF was constantly looking for new ways to justify its existence. The most contentious of these was the proposal made by the RAF’s first chief of staff, Sir Hugh Trenchard, that air power could be substituted for land and sea power. Trenchard won support from the influential politician Winston Churchill, and in 1922 the RAF was “substituted” for the British Army in the task of policing the British mandate of Iraq. Using a strategy known as “Air Control”, the RAF kept watch over vast expanses of territory. If a tribe was detected behaving against British interests, a note would be air-dropped advising them to desist, otherwise aircraft would return at a specified time and destroy crops, herds, water supplies, and so on. The method was remarkably successful. Furthermore, it was economical: by replacing 33 Army battalions with five RAF squadrons, the British Government reduced the annual cost of its garrison in Iraq from £20 million to £2 million. Air Control was subsequently applied successfully in other remote areas of the British Empire. The notion of “substitution” extended into the equally-heated debate of whether aircraft could sink warships. In trials off the US coast in 1921, flimsy bombers commanded by the outspoken American air power advocate William “Billy” Mitchell had sunk the captured German battleship Ostfriesland. But despite that and similar impressive tests, many navy officers refused to accept that aircraft constituted a threat to capital ships. The skeptics were given the most brutal rebuke on 10 December 1941, when land-based Japanese bombers sank the British warships HMS Prince of Wales and Repulse off the coast of Malaya. Six months later near Midway Island, American carrier-based aircraft sank four Japanese aircraft carriers, effectively ending Japanese expansionism. This was one of history’s defining battles: the fleets never came within sight of each other, and all the fighting was done by aircraft. From then on, warships operating without air cover had to be considered at risk, a reality of warfare that remains applicable today. The trend towards substitution has gained momentum as Western political leaders have finally realised that their armies cannot win so-called “counter-insurgency” wars. Fifty years of persistent failure (Algeria, Vietnam, Iraq, Somalia, Afghanistan, etc) and unacceptable levels of casualties have popularised the notion of substituting air power for land and sea forces. Thus, US president Barack Obama’s strategy for combating the Islamic State in Iraq, Syria and Libya is based on advanced (Western) air power and local ground forces (the latter receiving expert assistance from small numbers of Western Special Forces). It’s also noteworthy that Saudi Arabia is employing air strikes as the primary means of attacking Houthi rebels in Yemen. The substitution of technology for human labour has been a dominant feature of previous Industrial Revolutions. As the consequences of the Third Industrial Revolution become more widely experienced and better understood, air power’s standing as the weapon of first choice for developed states is likely to strengthen. Cody Stephens is a law graduate who works in technology and innovation research #Robotics #ThirdIndustrialRevolution #Strategy #AirPower #Substitution #UAV

Anti-access/area denial is not as new as you might think. Commonly known as A2/AD, “anti-access/area denial”  has become a hot topic in recent years. Many have detailed the threats that A2/AD weapons systems pose to the US military, especially its aircraft carriers. But those threats aren’t new; A2/AD campaigns have been waged since the Greco-Persian War. They aren’t even new threats to American aircraft carriers, which faced a similar threat from the Soviet Navy during the Cold War. The Soviet Navy had two main objectives during the Cold War. One was to protect the Soviet Union’s ballistic missile submarines (SSBNs) to guarantee their survival as credible nuclear strike platforms. The other was to protect the Soviet homeland from strikes from NATO aircraft carriers and submarines. A glance at a map reveals the challenge faced by the Soviet Navy in achieving these objectives. While the Soviet Union spanned the Eurasian landmass, its access to the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans was limited. Both the Baltic Sea and the Black Sea – each home to a Soviet fleet – had single entrances, creating chokepoints easily monitored by NATO forces. In the north, Soviet Northern Fleet vessels had to sortie through the Barents Sea and Norwegian Sea – areas of intense NATO naval activity – and then pass through the Greenland –Iceland -United Kingdom gap before they could reach the Atlantic Ocean. The Soviet Pacific Fleet had easier access to the ocean from its bases in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, but vessels based in Vladivostok had to transit Japanese waters to quickly reach the Pacific Ocean. This was both a blessing and a curse for the Soviets. NATO naval vessels had to travel long distances to the Soviet Union’s littoral region to threaten the Soviet homeland or its SSBN bastions. Those positions were well within range of Soviet Naval Aviation aircraft. On the other hand, the same distances also made it difficult for the Soviet Navy to project power with its surface vessels. Soviet naval doctrine in the early part of the Cold War called for the Soviet Navy to challenge NATO vessels for control of the open ocean. However, various developments forced the Soviet Navy to fall back to an A2/AD strategy. To protect the homeland and to secure its SSBN capability in the event of conflict, the Soviet Navy planned to deny NATO access to its littoral region and SSBN sanctuaries by creating a defensive perimeter up to 3,000 kilometres away from its shores. Defending the perimeter would have involved attacking NATO bases on the Soviet periphery, interdicting NATO submarines attempting to access Soviet SSBN sanctuaries, and attacking NATO surface vessels and carrier battle groups (CBGs) before they could access the Soviet littoral. NATO naval and air bases encircled the Soviet Union, giving NATO naval forces jumping off points to the Soviet littoral. Striking those bases with cruise missiles launched from long range strike aircraft or submarines, as well as attacks by Special Forces, ietwas seen as a good first step in limiting NATO naval access. The NATO submarine threat required a different set of countermeasures. The Soviet Navy deployed maritime patrol aircraft and anti-submarine warfare (ASW) task forces, comprised of ASW surface vessels and aircraft carrying vessels with strong ASW capabilities, to patrol the SSBN bastions while Soviet attack submarines defended their approaches. The bastions were also lined with underwater sensors and heavily mined to further limit NATO submarines access. Tracking CBGs at sea during the Cold War was difficult. To do that, the Soviet Navy created an extensive ocean surveillance system comprised of radar ocean reconnaissance satellites, electronic intelligence ocean reconnaissance satellites, surveillance surface vessels, and maritime patrol aircraft. These platforms were used to create a “kill chain” that fed targeting data to Soviet strike aircraft and submarines, which could then attack NATO vessels with long range anti-ship cruise missiles (ASCMs) and torpedoes. If that all sounds familiar, it’s because China is currently attempting to do something very similar with its military modernisation programme. It appears to be creating a bastion for its growing fleet of SSBNs by building artificial islands, developing advanced sea mines, deploying underwater sensors, and investing heavily in improved ASW capabilities. It is also developing a variety of long range anti-ship ballistic missiles (ASBMs) and ASCMs to threaten US forces in the Pacific and limit US access to its littoral region. The concept’s the same, though new technologies have changed aspects of the execution. Developments in missile technology and maritime reconnaissance systems have made China’s ASBMs and ASCMs more accurate than their Soviet counterparts. And cyberspace and space-based assets, which were in their infancy during the Cold War, now play an increasingly critical role in modern day conflict. Whether China’s A2/AD strategy will work is something we’ll only find out in the event of conflict. We still don’t know how effective the Soviets’ A2/AD strategy would have been because it was never tested in wartime. That’s not to say it wasn’t tested at all, as various American submarine commanders will tell you over a drink. Let’s hope that close encounters discussed at a Navy bar remain the only way these strategies are tested. Christopher Cowan is a research intern at the Australian Strategic Policy Institute. This post first appeared on ASPI’s blog, The Strategist. #A2AD #China #NATO #SovietNavy #CBG #SSBN

Dr Robbin Laird Rethinking Strategy: Warning Time, Events and Crisis Management Defense Info, 7 June 2021 Paul Dibb, the well-known Australian strategist, has recently published a piece with his co-author on warning time. The focus of his report was on how to defend Australia in an environment with reduced warning time. Although obviously about Australia, the discussion in the report raises a broader set of questions of how to know when an event can set in motion a chain of events which provide a direct threat to a liberal democratic nation and the challenge of responding effectively. It also raises the question of shaping capabilities which can be inserted into a crisis early enough to provide confidence in an ability to have effective escalation management tools available as well. Put another way, the focus of Dibb’s report is upon ways for Australia to enhance the government’s and public’s ability to better understand the events which affect them from the standpoint of providing warning time to deal with those events to prepare for and manage crises. To further discuss his thinking about warning time and crisis management, I followed up with an interview with him. A key example of the interpretation of events and the warning time challenge is the current posture of China towards Australia. It is important to understand what China can and cannot do from a standpoint of pressuring Australia, including the question of the use of military force in terms of what Paul Bracken has labelled exemplary attacks. It is widely understood, that both China and Russia have expanded their ability to operate in the so called gray zone and to conduct hybrid war. But what Is not recognized by using these terms, is that these are attacks to achieve a desired effect in terms of escalation management. According to Bracken: A particular area of focus should be exemplary attacks. “Examples include select attack of U.S. ships, Chinese or Russian bases, and command and control. “These are above crisis management as it is usually conceived in the West. “But they are well below total war. Each side had better think through the dynamics of scenarios in this space. “Deep strike for exemplary attacks, precise targeting, option packages for limited war, and command and control in a degraded environment need to be thought through beforehand. “The Russians have done this, with their escalate to deescalate strategy.” Bracken argued for moving beyond binary thinking, namely, peace or war, and focusing on the use of exemplary attacks to achieve desired political effects or escalation dominance. Dibb and I discussed a particularly noteworthy development in the current Chinese ramp up of pressure on Australia, namely, directly threatening the use of force against Australia. This is how Dibb put it: “The Chinese have been clearly communicating for some time that it is now time to teach Australia a lesson. “They used similar language against Vietnam in 1979 prior to their invasion. “And there are many ways they could generate force to pressure Australia, without directly striking the country, such as take us on in our 200-mile Exclusive Economic Zone, threatening our offshore energy platforms. And by so doing put the challenge directly to Australia.” In the long term, the Australian government is committed to building long range strike, and has committed to spending serious money in this area. But that is in the mid-term, what does Australia do now? Dibb underscored that he thought Canberra should have a sense of urgency about being in such a situation and that this was part of the larger argument he is making about warning time and preparing options to have escalation control. It is clearly important not to overstate Chinese military or diplomatic capabilities, for that only distorts the ability to shape effective policy responses. But it is clear that simply coming up with terms like the gray zone grossly distorts the broader challenge, identified by Bracken which are the impact of exemplary attacks on crisis management and deterrence. It is clear that Dibb’s focus on shaping effective means to manage time in a crisis is convergent with Bracken’s thinking as well. For the warning time report, see the following: Warning Time, Events and Crisis Management | Defense.info For my article which highlights the warning time report, see the following: Warning Time, Events and Crisis Management - Second Line of Defense (sldinfo.com)

Despite its futuristic feel, the first space war has already been fought, and by some decades. In 1991, in fact – the Gulf War[1]. While not fought in the physical domain of space, the conflict itself relied heavily upon space-based assets. Such reliance utilised satellites for precision navigation, space situational awareness, global communications, ISR and early warning ballistic missile defence. Even with that characterisation of being the first space war, only eight percent of munitions were guided and none by GPS[2]. Fast forward to the second Gulf War only a little over 10 years later and 70 percent of munitions were guided, mostly by GPS[3]. Further, up to 60 percent of bandwidth in the 2003 Iraq war was provided through commercial (non-military) satellites[4]. Space has become critical for terrestrial military capability. Therefore it comes as no surprise that space is a domain in its own right, and an important one indeed. In 2017 the US Air Force Secretary, Heather Wilson explicitly stated that ‘we must expect that war, of any kind, will extend into space in any future conflict, and we have to change the way we think and prepare for that eventuality’. Subsequently, in 2019, NATO recognized the critical nature of space-based military operations and formally declared space as an operational area[5]. Australia is equally clear in its recognition of the criticality of the space domain, solidifying its intent in the 2020 Defence Strategic Update (DSU). Within this key document, the government specified that ‘assured access to space is critical to ADF warfighting effectiveness, situational awareness and the delivery of real-time communications and information’, and that it will ‘significantly increase investment in Defence’s space capabilities. This includes plans for a network of satellites to provide an independent and sovereign communications network and an enhanced space control program.’ The Defence Force Structure Plan supports the strategic update stating that: Our space services and space control programs, along with the Geospatial Information and Intelligence program, contribute to Defence operations by providing assured access to space capabilities, enabling situational awareness and delivering real-time communications and position, navigation and timing information. Further: Continued investment and development of space capabilities will be required to further improve Defence’s resilience and enhance a large number of space-dependant capabilities across the Joint Force. Investment of around $7 billion in space capabilities over the next decade, which includes investment in sovereign-controlled satellites, will provide assured access to these services when needed. This investment will be critical if Australia is truly serious about protecting vulnerabilities associated with satellite systems – of which there are many; Anti-Satellite Weapons (ASAT), Co-Orbital ASAT, directed energy weapons, cyber weapons, electromagnetic pulse (EMP) or proximity operations are a few. Also critical to protecting our interests in the space domain is the application of space law. Australia is a party to all five existing space treaties (‘space law treaty series’). Perhaps the key treaty – the Outer Space Treaty (‘Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Other Space, including the Moon and other celestial bodies’), came into effect in 1967 and forms the basis of all international space law. This treaty specifies a number of key rules relating to military activities as follows: No Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) in full orbit or stationing WMD in space or installation of WMD on the Moon or other celestial bodies No military installations, bases or fortifications on the Moon or other celestial bodies No military manoeuvres on the Moon or other celestial bodies No weapons testing on the Moon or other celestial bodies. The OST also forbids claiming sovereignty over space, the Moon or other celestial bodies. Interestingly however, mining is allowed or, at least is not prohibited, and several States, including the United States, have started enacting national laws permitting the mining of the Moon, asteroids and other celestial bodies. Such efforts are designed to produce raw materials, including, in particular, water to enable humanity to reach further into the solar system. Indeed, there are multiple projects planned by Governments and private companies in the near future to settle semi-permanently on the Moon and Mars and this inevitably requires planning for mining activity to sustain such endeavours. It is clear that security issues will emerge as humanity starts undertaking mining activity, as well as ongoing exploration and semi-permanent settlement in space. Despite the aforementioned military prohibitions, there is still a lot of scope for military action, and it is indeed increasing. With the increase of military space objects and systems being deployed there is also a corresponding reaction by other States in testing and probing such systems[6]. Recent unclassified reporting points to jamming, close proximity operations, ASAT testing and the use of remotely piloted space shuttles remaining in orbit for over a year. The 2020 DSU notes that the legal frameworks and boundaries underpinning planned activities in space are not as clear as they could be. Moreover, it also notes the likelihood of countries taking advantage of the legal and policy uncertainties to advance their own interests at the expense of others is a real possibility. Within this uncertain operational and legal realm there is a real risk of strategic miscalculation. While the United Nations Charter applies to space and the law relating to the use of force (and its prohibitions) also apply, it is very unclear where the thresholds for crossing lines relating to the Use of Force and Armed Attack apply in space. In the absence of territorial boundaries and even temporary land/use legal rights there is a potential for overreach. Coupled to this is the criticality of space-based systems for existing terrestrial operations in land, sea, air and cyberspace and there is a genuine set of strategic risks that must be navigated carefully. It is also abundantly clear that under existing legal rules concerning the Law of Armed Conflict (LOAC) that many Global Navigation Satellite Services such as GPS and GLONASS may well be lawful targets in any armed conflict to the extent that they are used in support of a State’s military actions (indeed this is what they were originally created for!). If this were to occur, then the digitalised world in which we all live in at present would generally cease to exist. The world would be plunged back in a 1970’s type analogue world and there would almost certainly be severe impact upon the world’s financial system as well as cognate impacts on transport, communications, agriculture, medicine and a wide range of other services. So ubiquitous has global space infrastructure become to modern living that its loss would have a convulsive impact upon modern living. Remarkably, LOAC provides very few prohibitions on targeting such infrastructure that has military application and where the loss of life to civilians and expected damage to civilian property is not expected, or is not excessive to the military advantage anticipated. To date, the legal positions of States regarding the thresholds and limits of the law in space operations via-a-vis the Space law treaty series are not generally publicly stated, indeed they are probably still evolving. While no doubt there is internal Governmental legal analysis occurring, there is precious little public articulation. To date, only the U.S. in its Law of War Manual[7] has presented any public views and these are general in their scope and short in their application. There is no corresponding statement of legal and policy position from Russia, China, India, the UK or indeed even Australia. Such a void has allowed many academic views to proliferate that are sometimes inimical to Australian security positions and these should be challenged and countered with a principled legal response. At the present time, the current legal and policy realities are these: Space is militarized and is being weaponized Military activity is permitted outside of those specific prohibitions contained in Article IV of the OST (no WMD etc) Mining and human settlement will occur in space in the near future The legal limits and thresholds under the Law relating to the Use of Force in space are not publicly stated or agreed and there is a genuine risk of strategic miscalculation It is unclear how the Law of Armed Conflict would be applied to space to ameliorate the consequences of such armed conflict on civilian society, though under existing rules it is almost certain that the digitally integrated world that we have come to know over the past 30 years will cease to exist. The 2020 DCU is correct in its focus to encourage better understanding of the legal thresholds applicable to military activity in space. Government supported, though University led efforts like the Woomera Manual Project[8], which seek to identify the law currently applicable to military operations in space are helpful and useful in providing a common understanding of what law does apply. However, despite the optimistic efforts of such projects to reliably inform decision making, it is critical for Governments themselves to articulate their own views of what laws apply to condition military activities in outer space. Additionally, there is much to be said for the role of military diplomacy in establishing dialogues and understandings between military counterparts. This currently occurs in the land, sea and air military command environments but has yet to be initiated in the military space environment. It is time that military space commanders of the key space powers and their allies started constructive dialogue to better locate and articulate the accepted legal and policy boundaries of military activity in space. While it may be nostalgic for some to re-live the 1970’s, a return to bell bottomed flares, disco and analogue communications is ‘life Jim’ …’but not as we know it’ (apologies to Spock and Star Trekkin’ music video creators). This post was developed as the output from a recent Adelaide Drink & Think event. Adelaide Drink & Think is an informal, community-based network that holds monthly events in Adelaide to encourage national security discussion & debate. For details on upcoming events check out twitter @DrinkThinkADL or email adldrinkandthink@gmail.com to get on the mail list. Dr Dale Stephens is a Professor of Law at the University of Adelaide. He was previously a permanent Navy Legal Officer and served multiple positions during his time in the ADF, including Director of Operations and International law. He is currently an Editor of the Woomera Manual on the International Law of Military Space Operations. Squadron Leader Jenna Higgins is a Royal Australian Air Force aviator who specialises in ISREW. She has a Masters in Strategy and Security and a Masters in Aerospace Systems. She is an editor of the Central Blue Blog. Follow her on Twitter @Jenna_Ellen_ The views expressed are the author’s alone and do not reflect the opinion of the Royal Australian Air Force or the Department of Defence. Image credit: SpaceX [1] Yasushito Fukushima, ‘Debates over the Military Value of Outer Space in the Past, Present and the Future: Drawing on Space Power Theory in the U.S.’ (2013) 14(1) NIDS Journal of Defense and Security, 42; Larry Greenemeier, ‘GPS and the World’s First Space War’ Scientific American, Feb 8, 2016 found at: https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/gps-and-the-world-s-first-space-war/ [2] See GAO report at 5.2.2 found at: https://www.govinfo.gov/content/pkg/GAOREPORTS-NSIAD-97-134/html/GAOREPORTS-NSIAD-97-134.htm [3] http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/2950403.stm; see also Peter L Hayes, Space and Security: A Reference Handbook (ABC-CLIO, 2011), 51 [4] https://www.militaryaerospace.com/home/article/16709259/satellite-communication-key-to-victory-in-iraq [5] https://www.nato.int/cps/en/natohq/topics_175419.htm [6] For an outline of current space and counter space capabilities see https://swfound.org/counterspace/ [7] US DoD LoW Manual (Dec. 16) at : https://dod.defense.gov/Portals/1/Documents/pubs/DoD%20Law%20of%20War%20Manual%20-%20June%202015%20Updated%20Dec%202016.pdf?ver=2016-12-13-172036-190 [8] The Woomera Manual on the International Law of Military Space Operations, see https://law.adelaide.edu.au/woomera/

This is the third in a series of posts by Air Vice-Marshal Brian Weston (Retd.) describing the RAAF’s transition through five generations of fighter aircraft. In this post, Weston outlines how the RAAF plans to transition from the F/A-18A to the F-35A without the loss of combat capability. Australia’s first Lockheed Martin, F-35A Lightning II Joint Strike Fighter on its inaugural flight on 29 September 2014. [Image Credit: Lockheed Martin] Following the earlier RAAF fighter transitions from Avon-Sabre to Mirage IIIO, then to F/A-18A, the RAAF, as evidenced by the deployment of its first two F-35A fighters across the Pacific for the 2017 Avalon Airshow, has already commenced its transition from a fourth generation to a fifth-generation capability. Like the two previous fighter transitions, each with their unique characteristics, the introduction of the F-35A will pose some new problems especially given the large step-up in capability. Like previous transitions, this change will also require the RAAF to maintain a credible level of combat capability throughout the change, and possibly require it to sustain concurrent operational deployments. But aside from this, most of the issues arising from the transition can be categorized as related to either the management of the increased resources and personnel needed for the transition, or to the introduction of significantly increased levels of technology and capability. Previous transitions certainly have stressed both resources and personnel during the phase out of the preceding fighter, the phase in of the new fighter, and during the period of overlapping operations and sustainment of the two types. However, unlike earlier fighter transitions, the RAAF now can exploit the availability of overseas F-35A training rather than conduct all of the transitional activities in Australia. No 3 Squadron will be the first RAAF unit to convert to the F-35A with some personnel already in the USA for training. This progressively expanding group will further consolidate their F-35A training by remaining in the USA for some time, with some pilots gaining further experience as instructional pilots (IPs in USAF jargon) in the USAF F-35A training unit. Soon after, personnel earmarked for future Australian-based F-35A fighter instructional duties will join 3 Squadron personnel in the USA. As this cohort of Australian F-35A instructional staff builds overseas, 2 Operational Conversion Unit (2OCU), the RAAF’s dedicated fighter training unit, will cease F/A-18A operational training. Once 3 Squadron has built to a critical mass it will return to Australia where it will further mature into Australia’s first operational F-35A unit. Shortly after, the cadre of instructional staff, that had also been building in the USA, will return to Australia to reconstitute 2OCU as the dedicated Australian F-35A training unit. From this US-trained cadre, 2OCU will build its F-35A training capacity and expertise, at a measured rate, until the unit takes on the responsibility for converting pilots from the remaining two F/A-18A squadrons onto the F-35A, as well as commencing the training of pilots direct from the RAAF Lead-in Fighter Program. With the phase out of the F/A-18A, and with 6 Squadron becoming an EA-18G Growler unit, there also will be consequences for the training of Australian F/A-18F and EA-18G aircrew. The option of including a training organization for F/A-18F and EA-18G aircrew, within both 1 and 6 Squadrons, would come at the cost of eroding the operational capabilities of both squadrons. Hence the decision to train future Australian F/A-18F and EA-18G aircrew in the US, with ‘C’ Flight of 1 Squadron being tasked only with the conduct of RAAF F/A-18F refresher and standardization activities. Apart from managing the personnel and resource aspects of the transition, the RAAF must also manage the technological advances which are core to the operational effectiveness of the F-35A. Stealth, sensors, sensor fusion and connectivity, all involve technological leaps which will be periodically advanced through software and hardware upgrades. These evolving technologies will generate substantial changes in roles, operational doctrine, tactics, and procedures which will impinge on not just other air force capabilities, but also on army and navy capabilities. The evolutionary expansion of the unparalleled connectivity of the F-35A to other ADF capabilities will presage an expansion of F-35A roles well beyond the roles traditionally espoused for combat systems with a ‘Fighter’ (F) designation. So the Air Force seems well-placed in its transition to a new air combat capability, which is not surprising given Australia’s long and deep involvement with the JSF program as a Level 2 Partner Nation, as was evident by the presence of the two Australian F-35A aircraft, and their RAAF pilots, at Avalon. The transition from F/A-18A Hornet to the F-35A Lightning II is well underway, with the RAAF on the verge of a new operational era, with its combat force of three F-35A squadrons, an F-35A operational conversion unit, one squadron of F/A-18F Super Hornets and one squadron of EA-18G Growlers. It would seem to be a good time to be a junior air force Australian Defence Force Academy cadet, with the prospect of earning wings on the spirited Pilatus PC-21, followed by lead-in fighter training on the capable Hawk, and then converting directly to the F-35A. This article was first published in the August 2017 issue of Australian Aviation Air Vice-Marshal Brian Weston (Ret’d) was Commander of the Tactical Fighter Group from July 1990 to July 1993.  He is currently a board member of the Sir Richard Williams Foundation. #Training #RAAF #AirPower #technology #AirForce #F35