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Education

Adapt and Overcome: USNA’s Adaptive Leadership in Response to COVID-19

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By Philip Garrow, Ed.D.

From major universities to community colleges, the COVID-19 pandemic necessitated innovative thinking and flexible changes at American institutions of higher learning. In the span of two weeks, the United States Naval Academy (USNA) went from never before offering a remote course to shifting its entire undergraduate curriculum online. To accomplish this, it can be surmised that USNA’s most senior leaders employed adaptive leadership techniques to accomplish its primary mission of safely graduating and commissioning midshipmen on schedule. The rapid pivot to an online learning environment reflected the positive aspects of adaptive leadership theory, especially with respect to defining an institutional vision and incorporating feedback from faculty. Yet other actions exposed some of adaptive leadership’s dangers, such as administrators’ tendencies to favor policy uniformity at the expense of instructor autonomy as well as the proclivity to rush decisions in the face of time constraints. In the end, USNA’s transition to remote instruction is best characterized as a missed opportunity to reexamine minimum professional competency levels (i.e., “commissioning standards”) for military service. Although USNA leadership successfully harnessed adaptive leadership to meet its graduation objectives, it failed to see the pandemic response as a larger chance to assess, evaluate, and revise commissioning requirements and faculty practices.

Adaptive leadership 1 is a relatively new subject in leadership theory; in Dinh et al.’s 2013 review of 752 articles published in ten widely-cited academic journals, adaptive leadership was only explored in five pieces.2 While Nelson and Squires contend that adaptive leadership was originally developed for commercial applications,3 Heifetz and Linsky outlined its uses in the realm of education.4 A more concise framing from Campbell-Evans et al.5 summarized Heifetz et al.’s 2009 book on adaptive leadership by asserting the term explains the skills and strategies necessary to address gnarly situations, immediate problems, and changing conditions.6

With its wide-ranging impacts across all industries and professions, the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic represented a challenge of the highest order.7 Contending with it on “the Yard” (USNA’s informal nickname for its campus) fell primarily to USNA’s Superintendent and Provost. The Superintendent is a generally a three-star, active duty Navy Vice Admiral whose positional responsibilities are similar to those of a university president.8 The Provost, meanwhile, oversees curriculum design and delivery for the entire campus as well as personnel issues such as faculty hiring, review, and promotion.9 From March to August 2020, both released a series of emails notifying USNA personnel of institutional virus response efforts and remote learning support options. The plan as promulgated kept the institution on track to meet its annual timelines but did not offer a chance to reflect on which aspects of the traditional commissioning path were truly necessary.

USNA leaders displayed adaptive leadership by promulgating a cautious, flexible model for remote classes by clearly articulating an organizational vision.10 In light of rising COVID-19 cases nation-wide, in early March 2020 the Provost sent a pandemic-related email to faculty, simply passing along information on international travel.11 The day after, approximately 4,500 midshipmen left the campus on what they expected to be a week-long spring break. A few days later, the Provost sent another email, asking faculty to brainstorm strategies for shifting courses to online formats (such as Zoom or GoogleMeet) and to push those ideas up through their department leadership.12 Also, acting on information received firsthand from Maryland’s governor, the Superintendent announced that students would remain off campus for an additional two weeks.13 The decision was intended to give the faculty time to adjust their lesson plans for remote learning, which was employed for the rest of the semester and the summer term that followed.

ANNAPOLIS, Md. (May 20, 2020) The U.S. Navy Flight Demonstration Squadron, the Blue Angels, flies over Bancroft Hall as midshipmen sing the Alma Mater, Navy Blue and Gold, during the fifth socially-distanced, swearing-in event for the United States Naval Academy Class of 2020. (U.S. Navy photo by Stacy Godfrey)

One Provost email update acknowledged the challenges presented by a world-wide virus and admitted to looking to models from other institutions across the country.14 This made the decision-making process transparent and “user-centric”15 by soliciting faculty feedback – an improvement-science approach to adaptive leadership. The Provost exhibited a clear belief that unforeseen challenges required unprecedented solutions. But all emails were in service of a simple goal defined by the Superintendent: safely completing the semester (from a public health perspective) and getting midshipmen commissioned on time.16 As campus operations were streamlined, there did not seem to be much organized reflection about how minimal commissioning standards had long been defined and perpetuated. With Physical Fitness Assessments paused Fleet-wide for the second cycle of 2020, how defensible were the traditional USNA higher-than-the-Fleet standards for running, swimming, and the like?

Despite the laudable efforts outlined above to meet Fleet manning requirements safely, two drawbacks of the adaptive model emerged in USNA’s transition to online learning: the process became less user-centric and more directive over time, and last-minute changes in the name of improvement resulted in unnecessary staff and student burdens. Both the spring and summer 2020 terms were executed with students residing off-campus and completing only online coursework. Although the Provost solicited and acted on faculty feedback initially, as evidenced by his decision to shift school hours to the right in consideration of students living in the Pacific Standard Time zone,17 requests for suggestions from staff dwindled as the weeks wore on. Faculty autonomy with respect to attire18 or meeting synchronously or asynchronously19 were increasingly restricted by prescriptive directions. Rather than ask why the institution did things the way it traditionally had, the focus was on returning to pre-COVID standards and practices as soon as possible.

Educational systems are prone to return to previous methods and ways of operating,20 while leaders often face great temptation to issue unilateral solutions when achieving group consensus proves difficult.21 The ever-increasing volume of additional written instructions – in the form of USNA Academic Dean Notices – demonstrated that the adaptive flexibility of the early weeks of the pandemic gave way to the institution’s natural inclination to codify and standardize. The transparency of the thought process behind the early emails mutated into less forthcoming initiatives, such as a process for students to share course concerns with Associate Deans directly while bypassing the faculty and the chairs of academic departments.22

The extended nature of the pandemic eventually encouraged a tendency to think about how to return to old ways of doing things in the new environment, rather than stimulate improvement-science driven initiatives to ask what procedures deserved to be permanently eliminated.23 After expending considerable funds to outfit classrooms with remote learning tools like OWL camera and microphone devices, faculty were forbidden post-pandemic to use such devices rather than arrange for in-person substitutes. The insistence on returning to pre-COVID business-as-usual denied faculty the chance to refine and hone remote teaching skills they acquired during the crisis. At the very least, a better adaptive leadership approach would suggest faculty be given autonomy to decide when an in-person sub versus a remote session best suits their needs. The administration’s quiet shift from adaptive leadership to a more directive style caused problems that might otherwise have been avoided.

Another problem with adaptation and flexibility is that it can prove too tempting to continue to tinker with changes past the point where further adjustments are no longer optimal. After weeks of changes, a plan was made to teach remotely for the first two weeks of class and then divide students into “blue/gold” sections in order to decrease class sizes by half and facilitate six feet of separation between student desks.24 A week later, that plan was heavily modified such that only the first two days of class were mandated as remote and departments were under increased pressure to find teaching spaces large enough to accommodate regular class-sizes.25 Worse, student assignments to course sections were constantly in flux, with some First Year Composition English courses experiencing a full 50% change in assigned students as late as the afternoon before the first day of class.26 Such adjustments meant that some students were making two or three return trips to the campus bookstore in order to ensure they possessed the correct text for the instructor they were assigned.27 Curiously, most texts on adaptive leadership do not warn that flexibility can be carried too far. By failing to recognize the point at which further changes, even in the interest of optimization, were likely to cause unnecessary frustration and stress, USNA administrators placed too great a premium on top-down adaptation at the expense of efficiency and common sense.

The COVID-19 pandemic is the sort of gnarly, “multifaceted”28 problem that adaptive leadership is well poised to resolve. Yet USNA leadership delivered a mixed result, properly emphasizing shared goals and stakeholder buy-in during the initial response stages but succumbing to centralized and directive solutions as time progressed. The chance to question what elements of commissioning were truly required was overlooked and the opportunity to afford faculty greater voice in post-pandemic teaching options was missed. While it is important not to judge too harshly in light of the pandemic’s complexity, it is clear in retrospect that a summer stand down to reflect on the process and jointly reevaluate the options for the fall semester would have been well-advised, as would a similar reflective session at the conclusion of the COVID-19 crisis. USNA is a model of adaptive leadership; sometimes it just does not know when to stop adapting.

Lieutenant Commander Philip Garrow, USN, is a career Surface Warfare Officer and has completed guided missile cruiser, frigate, littoral combat ship, and destroyer squadron afloat tours. He holds a B.A. from Tulane University, M.A. degrees from Salve Regina University, the U.S. Naval War College, and the University of Maryland: College Park, and a doctorate in Entrepreneurial Leadership in Education from Johns Hopkins University. He currently serves as an Assistant Professor of English at the United States Naval Academy.

All views expressed and comments provided in this article are my own thoughts and opinions based on my professional and academic experience and expertise. They do not constitute (nor should be construed as reflecting) DOD, DON, or USNA official policy or endorsement.

Endnotes

1 Ali Baltaci and Ali Balci, “Complexity Leadership: A Theoretical Perspective,” International Journal of Educational Leadership and Management 5, no. 1 (2017): 30-58, doi: 10.17583/ijelm. 2017.2435; Glenda Campbell-Evans, Jan Gray, and Bridget Legett, “Adaptive Leadership in School Boards in Australia: An Emergent Model,” School Leadership & Management, 34, no. 5 (2014): 538-552, doi: 10.1080/13632434.2014.938038; Tenneisha Nelson and Vicki Squires, “Addressing Complex Challenges through Adaptive Leadership: A Promising Approach to Collaborative Problem Solving,” Journal of Leadership Education 16, no. 4 (2017): 111-123, doi: 1012806/V16/I4/T2.

2 Jessica E. Dinh, Robert G. Lord, William L. Gardner, Jeremy D. Meuser, Robert C. Linden, and Jinyu Hu, “Leadership Theory and Research in the New Millennium: Current Theoretical Trends and Changing Perspectives,” The Leadership Quarterly 25, (2014): 36-62, doi:10.1016/j.leaqua.2013.11.005.

3 Nelson and Squires, “Addressing Complex.”

4 Ronald Heifetz and Marty Linsky, “When Leadership Spells Danger,” Educational Leadership 61, no. 7 (April 2004): 33-37, https://www.wisconsinrticenter.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/6.3-When-Leadership-Spells-Danger.pdf.

5 Campbell-Evans et al., “Adaptive Leadership.”

6 Ronald A. Heifetz, Alexander Grashow, and Marty Kinskey, The Practice of Adaptive Leadership: Tools and Tactics for Changing Your Organization and the World, (Boston, MA: Harvard Business Press, 2009), 251.

7 Charles A. Goldman and Rita T. Karam, “College in America could be changed forever,” CNN, July 7, 2020, https://www.cnn.com/2020/07/07/perspectives/higher-education-pandemic/index.html; Annie Grayer, “Administrators prepared for Covid-19 to change life on campus, but students partied anyway,” CNN, August 21, 2020, https://www.cnn.com/2020/08/21/us/ university-college-covid-19-partying-quarantine-pandemic/index.html.

8 United States Naval Academy 2015 Faculty Handbook, 2015, https://www.usna.edu/ Academics/Faculty-Information/Faculty%20Handbook/ 15%20Faculty%20Handbook.pdf.

9 United States Naval Academy 2015 Faculty Handbook.

10 David J. O’Connell, Karl Hickerson, and Arun Pilluta, “Organizational Visioning: An Integrative Review,” Group & Organization Management 36, (2011), 103, doi: 10.1177/1059601110390999.

11 Andrew T. Phillips, personal communication, March 5, 2020.

12 Phillips, personal communication, March 11, 2020.

13 Sean S. Buck, personal communication, March 12, 2020.

14 Phillips, personal communication, March 11, 2020.

15 Anthony S. Bryk, Louis M. Gomez, Alicia Grunow, and Paul G. LeMahieu, Learning to Improve: How America’s Schools can Get Better at Getting Better, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press, 2015).

16 Sean S. Buck, personal communication, March 12, 2020.

17 Andrew T. Phillips, personal communication, March 20, 2020.

18 Andrew T. Phillips, personal communication, May 22, 2020.

19 Sharon Hazelton, personal communication, May 9, 2020; Jennifer Waters, personal communication, June 1, 2020.

20 Nelson and Squires, “Addressing Complex.”

21 Heifetz and Linsky, “When Leadership.”

22 Michelle Allen-Emerson, personal communication, April 20, 2020.

23 Bryk et al., Learning to Improve.

24 Samara Firebaugh, personal communication, August 4, 2020.

25 Samara Firebaugh, personal communication, August 11, 2020.

26 Philip Garrow, personal communication, August 18, 2020.

27 Temple Cone, personal communication, August 19, 2020.

28 Campbell-Evans et al., “Adaptive Leadership,” 542.

Featured Image: The U.S. Naval Academy holds the fourth, socially-distanced swearing-in event for the Class of 2020 on May 18, 2020. (U.S. Navy photo by Stacy Godfrey)

Law of Warfare

Unmanned Maritime Systems and Warships: Interpretations Under the Law of the Sea

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By Takeo Imura

Introduction

Unmanned systems technologies possess great potential for changing the landscape of military operations. Today’s unmanned systems include aircraft, ground vehicles, and surface and subsurface vessels.

Military forces are experimenting with unmanned systems, which are expected to help the military reduce casualties and increase mission endurance. The U.S. Navy enumerates various missions expected for unmanned systems and plans to substitute them for some existing manned platforms.1

Treating unmanned vessels as warships requires examining whether they meet the definition of a warship under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). The legal status of naval vessels under UNCLOS varies widely depending on whether a navy operates its ships as warships, non-commercial government vessels, or accessories to conventional warships.        

This paper discusses whether unmanned systems can be considered warships under UNCLOS, especially with today’s voracious appetite for developing the technology; however, the legal status of unmanned vessels as warships remains uncertain. International agreements on the legal status of unmanned vessels would help establish the legitimacy of naval operations employing them.

Unmanned Vessels and Warship Status

Article 29 defines a warship as:

“A ship belonging to the armed forces of a State bearing the external marks distinguishing such ships of its nationality, under the command of an officer duly commissioned by the government of the State and whose name appears in the appropriate service list or its equivalent, and manned by a crew which is under regular armed forces discipline.”2

Accordingly, four conditions must be met to determine whether unmanned vessels can be considered warships under UNCLOS. They are defined as a “ship,” bear “external marks” of the possessing flag state, are “under the command of an officer,” and are “manned by crew.” Each of these conditions is considered in the following analysis.

Ships

UNCLOS does not provide a specific definition of what constitutes a ship. Article 91 states, “[s]hips have the nationality of the State whose flag they are entitled to fly.”3 Further, article 92 provides “[s]hips shall sail under the flag of one State only…[and a] ship may not change its flag during a voyage or while in a port of call, save in the case of a real transfer of ownership or change of registry.”4 Accordingly, UNCLOS declares that all ships must maintain a genuine link with their state and fly their flag to show who possesses jurisdiction.5 Article 94 mandates that “[e]very State shall effectively exercise its jurisdiction and control in administrative, technical and social matters over ships flying its flag.”6 There are certain requirements the flag state must meet to maintain a genuine link between the ship and the State, such as undertaking measures “to ensure safety at sea.”7 Paragraph 3b of the same article requires flag states to regulate “the manning of ships, labour conditions and the training of crews, taking into account the applicable international instruments.”8

In the case of unmanned vessels, it would be difficult for a flag state to fulfill these requirements since they are unmanned. However, if the word “manning” is considered part of a greater flag state duty to ensure safety at sea, then this requirement can readily be met. Manning should not simply mean individuals being physically aboard. Additionally, the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, Article 31, states, “any subsequent practice in the application of the treaty which establishes the agreement of the parties regarding its interpretation” is included in the meaning.9 Accordingly, the states party to UNCLOS may recognize unmanned vessels as ships unless such interpretation is contrary to the treaty’s terms, its object, or purpose and is evidenced by the subsequent practices of the parties. Evidence that many states are moving to accept unmanned vessels as ships can be found in the maritime transportation domain. Specifically, the International Maritime Organization (IMO) developed the maritime autonomous surface ship concept, or MASS.10 Considering the latitudes provided by the provisions of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, the IMO’s development of MASS demonstrates the definition of “manning” is not an obstacle to accepting unmanned vessels as ships under UNCLOS if flag states fill their requirements.11

UNCLOS is not the only treaty that defines what constitutes a ship. For instance, the International Convention for the Prevention of Pollution from Ships (MARPOL) defines a ship as “a vessel of any type whatsoever operating in the marine environment.”12 Also, the Convention on the International Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea (COLREGs), Part A, Rule 3a states, “[t]he word vessel includes every description of watercraft… being used as a means of transportation on water.”13 Similar to MARPOL, this definition encompasses a wide variety of vehicles, with the main difference being whether the vehicle is used for transportation on water. However, a ship without transporting something is difficult to imagine. Even unmanned vessels carry payloads that are not essential for navigation. For example, the SD1045 unmanned vessel is used for maritime environment research and can change payloads to adjust to user demands.14

Finally, the 1972 Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter (London Convention) defines a ship more broadly as a “waterborne…craft of any type whatsoever….”15 Based on this provision, a vessel can be interpreted as any vehicle that operates in or above water.

In conclusion, unmanned vessels can be recognized as ships under UNCLOS or other treaties, given the broad definition of a “ship.” Therefore, a flag state has the legal authority to decide what device it will regard as a ship, provided it meets the minimal requirements of UNCLOS.16

External Marks

Generally, a flag, referred to as a naval ensign, is used as an external mark to show the status and nationality of a warship. Setting up a naval ensign on unmanned surface vessels may be possible. In the case of unmanned underwater vessels (UUVs), this requirement probably would need to be fulfilled by painting a flag or other substitute markings.

Under the Command of an Officer

There is no unified definition of the word “command.” One paper discussed the subject and stated, “…being in command does not require the person to make every decision and guide every action, and that the commander can be removed from the action to some extent.”17 This view is based on the military doctrines of the United States, Netherlands, France, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. This approach can be applied to the command of unmanned vessels, but the outcome may depend on the vessel’s degree of autonomy. There are three levels of human participation in the command of unmanned systems: “in the loop,” “on the loop,” and “out of the loop.”18

The concept of “in the loop” is that a human is continuously and significantly involved in the actions of the unmanned vessels, operating it remotely.19 The concept of “human on the loop” is one in which humans monitor unmanned vessels and influence autonomous decisions without directly operating the system.20 The human has veto power over the actions of the unmanned vessels, which otherwise operate independently.21 “Human out of the loop” applies when humans are not involved in autonomous decisions – the system has full operational autonomy. Human control relates to the software programming that governs the unmanned vessel’s actions in such cases.22

Unmanned vessels with “humans out of the loop” are controlled by high-end autonomous algorithms. Such unmanned systems equipped with weapons are categorized as lethal autonomous weapons systems (LAWS). Rules governing the operation of LAWS are currently one of the most controversial subjects in international law. Advocates for using LAWS in military operations focus on their contribution to military advantage as a moral justification.23 LAWS can reduce the loss of human life and expand operations into previously inaccessible areas.24 Further, they argue LAWS meet the requirements of morality because “autonomous robots in the future will be able to act more “humanely” on the battlefield […because] they do not need to be programmed with a self-preservation instinct.”25 Those who oppose the use of LAWS focus on the problem of accountability.26 Given the system’s autonomy and the unpredictability of decisions made by machine learning, it would be hard to identify the cause of flawed decisions and assign accountability. As one article puts it, “Where a human being makes the decision to use force against a target, there is a clear chain of accountability, stretching from whoever actually ‘pulled the trigger’ to the commander who gave the order.” 27 This is not the case with LAWS. While the commander can be identified and held accountable for the operation of unmanned systems with “in the loop” or “on the loop,” this is not the case with “out of the loop” systems.

Some propose that “[s]ince a commander can be held accountable for an autonomous human subordinate, holding a commander accountable for an autonomous robot subordinate may appear analogous.”28 If so, commanders that employ unmanned systems cannot escape the responsibility for their operation, whether a human is in the loop or not. Traditionally, command responsibility is only implicated based on reasonable foreseeability of an untoward action, and the commander failed to prevent it.29 The possibility that a commander can reasonably foresee what LAWS will do is remote. Even if unmanned systems were only operated for non-combat missions, such as information gathering in peacetime, responsibility for non-lethal violations of UNCLOS or domestic law would remain an issue. Usually, in the case of manned warships, the responsibility falls on the tactical-level commander, such as the commanding officer.

One solution some have proposed is to incorporate a recording function to provide a detailed operational log against which to hold a commander responsible. But is the tactical commander best positioned to reasonably foresee what the LAWS will do? Whether command responsibility lies with the tactical commander who deployed the system, the operational level commander who allocated the system to the tactical commander, or the commander responsible for the design and introduction of the system into the fleet remains unclear and the subject of debate. However, for the “command” requirement of UNCLOS Article 29 to be fulfilled, a commander must be aware of the operations conducted under his or her command. Since it is possible this will not be the case with LAWS, with humans “out of the loop,” it is an issue that remains unaddressed by international law.

Manned by a Crew

“Manned” is generally understood as a crew aboard a vessel. However, other laws that regulate or define ships do not include the condition of a crew being aboard. For example, U.S. code Title 33, section 4101 states unmanned systems are “…designed to function without an on-board human presence…”30 Other scholars point out in regard to the safety of life at sea (SOLAS),

“SOLAS relies on states to ensure the safe manning of their ships. There is no minimum number of persons required to be on board so long as the primary safety concern is met. It can, therefore, be argued that a crew numbering zero is technically ‘adequate’ provided the operation is safe.”31

At least in the private sector, crews are not required to be physically aboard unmanned vessels. Also, a boarded crew is not required in COLREG or MARPOL. That said, the history of the definition of warships might be different from ordinary ships.

A warship has a specific definition derived from the history of privateers in the 16th to mid-19th centuries.32 A privateer “…was a privately-owned vessel, outfitted as a warship, authorized by a recognized national government, through the issuance of a commission to attack.”33 On the one hand, privateers did not always come under the control of the government, and abuse of its rights and abnormal practices occurred. Ultimately, privateering was abolished in 1856 by the Paris Declaration.34 Nevertheless, the use of civilian ships in wartime continued. The Hague Convention No. VII, on International Convention relative to the Conversion of Merchant-ships in Warships of 18 October 1907, provided regulations about converting merchants to warships. A merchant ship converted to a warship was given the rights of a warship (mainly belligerent rights).35 The Hague Convention influenced the drafting of UNCLOS, specifically the requirements in Article 29.36 The key to properly reading UNCLOS Article 29 is to focus on the requirement that “crews [be] under the appropriate discipline.” Physical manning is not the primary point of the article.37 Thus, while some form of human control of the warship is needed to fulfill the condition of the existence of a crew, physical manning is not required.

Conclusion

This analysis discussed whether navies should operate unmanned vessels as warships under the provision of UNCLOS Article 29. Considering the discussions above, one can say that unmanned vessels with “human in the loop” or “human on the loop” fulfill the conditions of Article 29. However, unmanned vessels with “humans out of the loop” do not fulfill the current conditions of Article 29 and do not acquire the status of warships.

Undoubtedly, details of how to fill the requirements of “under the command of an officer” and “manned by crew” will be controversial with “out of the loop” unmanned systems. Concerning the command requirement, this paper concludes that commanders are at least responsible for the decisions to deploy unmanned systems, but the level of command responsibility remains unclear. Concerning the requirement that a ship has a crew, while some form of involvement of a ‘crew’ in the operation of the unmanned systems can fill the condition of Article 29, it might be difficult to meet the condition if autonomy develops to such a level that no crew involvement is required once the system is deployed; to be accorded the status of a warship requires “a crew which is under regular armed forces discipline.” Accordingly, navies that want to operate unmanned systems should carefully evaluate their desired missions and how to manage the command and crew requirements, especially in cases where unmanned systems will be fully autonomous.

Takeo Imura is an operational legal advisor for the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force. He previously served as a faculty member in the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force Command and Staff College Operational Legal Office and as a military professor at the U.S. Naval War College Stockton Center for International Law. Before transitioning into law, was a submarine officer for nine years.

References

1. DEPARTMENT OF THE NAVY, OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF NAVAL OPERATIONS, HEADQUARTERS U.S. MARINE CORPS, DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY AND U.S. COAST GUARD, THE COMMANDER’S HANDBOOK ON THE LAW OF NAVAL OPERATIONS, NAVY WARFARE DEVELOPMENT COMMAND (Mar 2022), pg., 2.3.4.

2. United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, art 29, Dec. 10, 1982, 1833 U.N.T.S. 413, pg., 408.

3. Ibid. pg., 433.

4. Ibid.

5. No article in UNCLOS stipulates that a ship without nationality is itself illegal. However, the fact that stateless vessels are listed among the vessels subject to on-site inspection under article 110, along with pirate ships and unauthorized broadcasting ships, suggests that non-nationality ships are not positive entities. Besides, in chapter 5 of Maritime Law Enforcement, page 56 of “Maritime Crime: A Manual for Criminal Justice Practitioners” by the United Nations Office on Crime and Drugs in 2017 said ” States were traditionally opposed to the idea that a ship might have no nationality because this would imply that there is no jurisdiction applicable to that vessel. This would be against the desire of States to ensure that proscribed conduct is subject to some level of jurisdiction in all places…” Thus, a ship without nationality would understood as an unacceptable existence.

6. United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, Supra note 2, pg., 434.

7. Ibid.

8. Ibid.

9. Vienna Convention on The Law of Treaties, art 31, May 23, 1969, 1155 U.N.T.S. 332. pg., 340.

10. Autonomous shipping, International Maritime Organization, https://www.imo.org/en/MediaCentre/HotTopics/Pages/Autonomous-shipping.aspx (last visited Jun 27, 2024).

11. These requirements are found in UNCLOS Articles 91, 92, and 94.

12. International Convention for the prevention of pollution from ships, 1973, art 2(4), Feb. 17, 1978, 1340 U.N.T.S. 184, pg., 185.

13. Convention on the international regulations for preventing collisions at sea, 1972, Part A Rule 3, Oct. 20, 1972, 1050 U.N.T.S. 18, pg., 22.

14. THE WORLD’S MOST CAPABLE USVS, SAILDRONE, https://www.saildrone.com/technology/vehicles (last visited Jun 10, 2024).

15. Convention on the prevention of marine pollution by dumping of wastes and other matter, art 3(2) Dec. 29, 1972, 1046 U.N.T.S. 138, pg., 140.

16. Natalie Klein, How should the law treat underwater maritime autonomous vehicles?, The Strategist (May 4, 2023), https://www.aspistrategist.org.au/how-should-the-law-treat-underwater-maritime-autonomous-vehicles, (last visited Jun 11, 2024). (Discusses the legal challenges for the Australian Defence Force to adopt Maritime Autonomous Vehicles).

17. Rain Liivoja, Eve Massingham, and Simon McKenzie, The Legal Requirement for Command and the Future of Autonomous Military Platforms, 99 Int’l L. Stud. 638, 652 (2022) (discussing the definition of the word “command”).

18. Paul Scharre, Michael C. Horowitz, Working Paper: An Introduction To Autonomy In Weapon Systems, Center For a New American Security (Feb 13, 2015), https://www.cnas.org/publications/reports/an-introduction-to-autonomy-in-weapon-systems (last visited Jun 10, 2024), pg., 6.

19. Christof Heyns (Special Rapporteur), Report of the Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial,

summary or arbitrary executions, U.N. doc A/HRC/23/47 (2013), 39, 41, at 8.

20. Ibid.

21. Christof Heyns, Supra note 19, pg., 8.

22. Ibid.

23. Amitai Etzioni, Oren Etzioni, Pros and Cons of Autonomous Weapons Systems, Military Review 72, 72 (May-June 2017), https://www.armyupress.army.mil/Journals/Military-Review/English-Edition-Archives/May-June-2017/Pros-and-Cons-of-Autonomous-Weapons-Systems/,(introducing opinions about discussion of Autonomous Weapons Systems).

24. Ibid.

25. Ibid. pg., 74.

26. Ibid. pg., 75.

27. Amitai Etzioni, Oren Etzioni, Supra note 23. Pg., 75.

28. Christof Heyns, Supra note 19, pg., 15.

29. Ibid.

30. 33 U.S. Code § 4101 (2024).

31. Robert Veal, Michael Tsimplis and Andrew Serdy, The legal status and operation of unmanned maritime vehicles, Ocean Development & International Law (2019), https://doi.org/10.1080/00908320.2018.1502500 (last visited Jun 10, 2024), pg. 36.

32. Rain Liivoja, Eve Massingham, and Simon McKenzie, Supra note 17, pg. 660.

33. David J Bederman, Max Planck Encyclopedias of International Law(Subject: “Privateering”), Oxford Public International Law (Oct 2008), https://opil.ouplaw.com/display/10.1093/law:epil/9780199231690/law-9780199231690-e382?rskey=pMAj9J&result=1&prd=MPIL (last visited Jun 10, 2024).

34. Ibid.

35. Rain Liivoja, Eve Massingham, and Simon McKenzie, Supra note 17, pg., 662.

36. Myron H. Nordquist, Neal R. Grandy, Satya N. Nandan, and Shabtai Rosenne, United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982, Volume II A Commentary, 249, Martinus Nijioff Publishers(Aug 1993). Note that these were already included in the draft of articles made by the International Law Committee in 1956.

37. Malgorzata Materna, Adjusting the Aperture: The International Law Case for Qualifying Unmanned Vessels as Warships, 100 Int’l L. Stud. 472, 452 (2023) (discussing differences in crew condition of warships between HC7 and UNCLOS).

Featured Image: A Seahawk medium displacement unmanned surface vessel participates in U.S. Pacific Fleet’s Unmanned Systems Integrated Battle Problem in the Pacific Ocean, April 21, 2021 (Photo by Chief Mass Communication Specialist Shannon Renfroe/U.S. Navy)

Capability Analysis

The Queen Sacrifice: Use the Carrier for Naval Deception

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This piece was originally written and submitted as part of an essay contest in September 2023.

By Trevor Phillips-Levine and Andrew Tenbusch

A large Japanese force emerged from the San Bernadino Strait, comprised of battleships and heavy cruisers, including the flagship Yamato. All that stood between them and the vulnerable U.S. landings at Leyte were the escort carriers, destroyers, and destroyer escorts of Seventh Fleet. Admiral Halsey’s Task Force 34 was ostensibly tasked to guard the San Bernardino Strait, a strategic approach north of the amphibious landings. But Halsey was then hundreds of miles away, steaming northward in dogged pursuit of a decoy Japanese carrier force. Urgent radio traffic from Commander Seventh Fleet did little to throw Halsey from pursuing the Japanese carriers until he received a pointed inquiry from Admiral Nimitz, Commander in Chief, Pacific Fleet and Pacific Ocean Areas.1,2 The Japanese fleet successfully deceived Halsey and obfuscated their actual center of gravity for the operation by offering up some of their most prized assets as bait.

In chess, “The Queen Sacrifice” is well-known. The queen is one of the most important pieces and possesses wide mobility. In a queen sacrifice, a player risks their queen to gain a key advantage later, leveraging the perceived importance of the piece with their opponent.3 The U.S. Navy viewed its carrier forces as its center of gravity. If given the opportunity, the Japanese predicted that the U.S. Navy would pursue their aircraft carriers because the Navy would assume them to be similarly vital to the Japanese. Like chess, the battlefield is becoming an arena of persistent observation from robust satellite constellations.4 In a world of near-perfect information, deception becomes crucial, and the more believable the ruse, the higher the chances of success. Ruses can be made more believable by capitalizing on an adversary’s cognitive biases, such as their perceptions on what platforms are especially crucial to naval operations.

China already possesses the world’s largest navy, and the U.S. is unlikely to match China’s industrial capacity and speed in shipbuilding.5 Therefore, deterring and, if necessary, defeating China in naval combat will require deception to minimize U.S. vulnerability to the heavy attrition that can be quickly inflicted in a war at sea. For deception to be effective, the U.S. Navy must first be aware of how its enemies perceive its centers of gravity and then possess the willingness to use its prized assets in unconventional ways. Rather than try to force a traditional use case of the carrier onto an unprecedented threat environment, the Navy should consider novel approaches to carrier employment. Based on the currently limited reach of the Navy’s air wings, the carrier’s best use may be as a decoy force.6 

Enduring Truths 

Since Fleet Problem IX in early 1929, the U.S. aircraft carrier has been recognized as an invaluable asset. However, surprise encounters with submarines and surface combatants revealed its vulnerabilities. The short range of the carrier air wings required the aircraft carrier to maneuver perilously close to the objective.7 Much depended upon accurate intelligence, the boldness of commanders, and luck. Some naval leaders remained unconvinced by tactics that placed the aircraft carrier at great risk. Others felt that the risk and loss of the carriers were completely justified if in the pursuit of “decisive” results.8

Fleet Problem IX and subsequent Fleet Problem exercises informed the development of U.S. carrier tactics for World War II. It also reinforced the desire among commanders to eliminate the enemy carriers first.9 Carriers remained vulnerable to shore-based air and susceptible to submarine attack. The debut of the missile age by the Kamikaze showcased the carriers’ vulnerabilities when forced within range of shore-based air and the difficulty of defending against guided munitions.10 By the war’s end, the U.S. had lost three escort carriers to Kamikazes and nine fleet carriers had taken Kamikaze hits. However, the fleet experienced greater losses among support and picket ships as they were often the first ships Kamikaze pilots would encounter.11

The U.S. Navy aircraft carrier USS Essex (CV-9) is hit on the flight deck amidships by a Japanese Kamikaze, during operations off the Philippines, 25 November 1944. (U.S. Navy photo)

Submarines continued to be a persistent threat. During World War II, the Japanese lost eight carriers to submarines.12 The British lost five, while the U.S. lost four.13,14 Decades later, during the 1980s Falklands Campaign, the British deployed 11 destroyers, six submarines, and 25 helicopters to hunt down an obsolete Argentine submarine threatening its carrier task force.15 That Argentine submarine still managed to fire torpedoes against the British fleet and survive the war. Submarines present an asymmetric threat and are costly to defend against, requiring great resources to find and track. Over the years, the Navy hollowed out the carrier’s organic anti-submarine warfare capability, leaving the air wing dependent on inorganic assets like the P-8A Poseidon to find lurking submarines across wide areas. Yet these are assets that may not be able to follow the carriers into heavily contested seas, and and the effects of climate change will likely increasingly constrain detection ranges.16

The threats to aircraft carriers are enduring and intensifying with technological advances. The necessity for carriers to maneuver within enemy weapon engagement zones to deploy offensive combat power has remained true for much of history, except in some recent regional wars. What has changed is that the carrier is less equipped to defend itself than in the past, and there is a perceived lack of willingness by U.S. leadership to stomach the loss of an aircraft carrier for the sake of employing its air wing.17

Neutering the Aircraft Carrier

Symbols of American power projection, U.S. aircraft carriers prominently featured as American options for political messaging and de-escalation. President Bill Clinton dispatched two carrier strike groups to “monitor” saber-rattling after the U.S. approved a visa for Taiwan’s leader in 1996, during the “Third Taiwan Strait Crisis.”18 The dispatched U.S. carrier strike groups were to reassure allies and bolster regional credibility. At the time, a broad consensus existed that the People’s Liberation Army was “not in a position to take Taiwan.”19 The carriers’ successful interference in China’s campaign of intimidation against Taiwan during the crisis marked a seminal moment for the PLA. Since then, China has substantially improved its area denial capabilities, joint force integration, amphibious capability, and ocean surveillance. Today, analysts acknowledge that the People’s Republic of China is better positioned to mount an invasion – and threaten carriers – than at any other time in its modern history.20

The People’s Liberation Army emphasizes neutering U.S. power projection capabilities by fielding precision weapons like the Dong Feng-21D and Dong Feng-26 ballistic missiles. Besides conventional strike capabilities for infrastructure targets (i.e., airfields or ports), the Dong Feng series of weapons also possesses maritime strike capabilities to target warships.21 The ranges of these weapons exceed the striking range of a carrier’s current embarked air wing.22 If the carrier is to utilize its striking power in a Pacific scenario, it must close to well within range of powerful shore-based capabilities.

DF-26 missiles on parade. (China Daily photo)

The accuracy of long-range precision weapons depends upon extensive, over-the-horizon cueing networks and mid-flight retargeting capabilities.23 China’s long-range weapons are credible because of their supporting targeting infrastructure, including over-the-horizon radars, terrestrial and aerial surveillance assets, and satellite constellations.24, 25 The vastness of the Pacific theater and the number of ships plying the ocean at any given time impart data processing delays, where analysis must sift through benign data and isolate contacts of interest. The speed of a decision cycle is referred to as the “OODA” loop, where a speed advantage relative to the adversary is a critical component of victory.26 Accelerating decision cycles will likely drive artificial intelligence integration, which can sift copious amounts of data at speeds and accuracy exceeding human analyses.27 China desires to lead in artificial intelligence, and reporting indicates that its military is heavily involved in its development. The PLA views artificial intelligence as key in “intelligentized” warfare environments and disrupting the decision-making pace of adversaries.28 Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that China will likely mate its extensive ocean surveillance capabilities with artificial intelligence to sift through benign noise to find carriers and other warships.

Artificial intelligence may also be used to determine operational strategies. Some algorithm training sets use historical data. Historical data composed of human decision-making and behavior are imbued with human biases. These use cases can impart latent bias to the algorithm and, in the case of the U.S. carriers, potentially cause those algorithms to inherit an affinity for carriers’ centrality to U.S. naval operations.29, 30 In fact, biases may manifest more significantly in algorithms, and humans’ trust in their output permanently skew their perceptions in future decision-making.31 Indeed, carriers played a central role in Japan’s naval campaigns before the Leyte operations, much as they did in the interwar period during the Fleet Problem exercises, reinforcing perceptions of their continued importance to Halsey.32 Artificial intelligence that learns from training data from the past 80 years of U.S. naval operations could develop similar perceptions and become self-reinforcing for human users.

Naval Deception

At the tactical level, paint schemes during both world wars on Allied shipping were designed to break up outlines, making identification and targeting by the enemy more challenging.33 New paint schemes on Russia’s Black Sea fleet may be an attempt to thwart target recognition algorithms and image-processing seeker heads.34 Other historical tactical deceptions took on more elaborate forms, as with Britain’s Q-ships during World War I. Masquerading as merchant ships to lure submarines to the surface, submarines were then ambushed by their not-so-helpless prey.35

Today, arguments for the U.S. Navy to reintroduce decoys to divert attention and complicate surveillance are gaining favor.36 While China’s surveillance apparatus is formidable, it is finite, and each diversion or false target saps resources from finding the true one. The PLA’s weapon allocations are impacted by this uncertainty by tying down warheads. A weapon must be reserved for a perceived threat, eliminating it as an option for striking a different target. As such, fleets-in-being require considerable diversions of resources and capabilities kept in reserve, whether those fleets are a direct participant in an operation or not. For example, Ukrainian forces were forced to divert precious resources to monitor troop concentrations in Belarus and a Russian amphibious fleet in the Black Sea, despite the unlikelihood of either force launching a successful attack.37 Forcing China’s military to expend attention and munitions on ghost fleets and attractive diversions will be an essential element of operational art during conflict.

Magruder’s Principle is a concept in deception that states it is “easier to exploit the enemy’s beliefs than to alter those beliefs.”38 An enemy may be completely blinded by target fixation and confirmation bias if the deception is adequate. When Halsey pressed his attack against Japan’s carrier force, there were signs it was a diversion. Navy carrier scout planes reported empty flight decks and little fighter cover over the Japanese carriers, an anomaly that should have raised many red flags. But convinced of their importance, likely influenced by the carrier’s importance to him, Halsey continued his pursuit. And despite increasingly desperate radio traffic from the commander of Seventh Fleet, he remained convinced that the destruction of Japan’s carrier force took priority over all other efforts.

Japan’s desire to use the carriers as a decoy force may have stemmed from how their air wings were previously decimated in the “Great Marianas Turkey Shoot” in the Battle of the Philippine Sea. There Admiral Spruance made a different calculation than Halsey, opting to shape the deployment of his task force in such a way as to give priority to protecting the beachhead rather than fully committing to a chase against Japanese carriers. The Japanese sent hundreds of their carrier aircraft into the teeth of American fleet defenses only to inflict negligible damage against U.S. capital ships. Unknown to the Americans, the massive losses they inflicted against Japanese aircraft removed Japan’s carriers as a credible force for the foreseeable future. When Japan opted to use its flattops as decoys, they were good for little else.

While there has been much contemporary debate on the survivability of the carrier, the Navy should also consider how the survivability of the air wing may affect future roles for flattops. An aircraft carrier is most vulnerable during aircraft launch and recovery operations when forced on predictable headings. To find a beehive, one needs only to find a bee to follow, a tactic Kamikazes used well by following returning Navy fighters.39 Unknown surface contacts that are launching and recovering multiple jet aircraft may strongly stand out against the backdrop of maritime traffic to an adversary’s ocean surveillance network. However, an aircraft carrier unburdened with flight operations is free to use a variety of frustrating tactics against the enemy. In either case, a diversion requires the devotion of more surveillance for increased scrutiny by the enemy, slowing their decision processes and diverting attention.

Overcoming the Institutional Barriers

Using the carrier in non-traditional ways, like a diversion in a deception campaign, will probably meet strong resistance within the Navy. The aircraft carrier remains one of the prominent symbols of American power and prestige. Despite the occasional essay questioning the value proposition of carriers in robust peer environments or advocating unconventional uses, the U.S. Navy overwhelmingly views its carrier fleet as its crown jewels.40, 41 These viewpoints ossified after the end of World War II as the battleship’s fate had been sealed and the aircraft carrier took its place as the world’s premier capital ship. Over the decades, carrier aviators pervaded the Navy’s ranks and the halls of industry and government, cementing a strong advocacy network into place.

In 2015, former Navy captain and strategist Jerry Hendrix pointed out that some planners and leaders appear focused on protecting a traditional use case for the aircraft carrier and are not invested in war-winning strategies.42 Discussions and efforts to change the naval force through carrier reductions to fund alternative and likely more relevant and effective capabilities, like submarines, are met with stiff political resistance.43 If an adversary is aware of the herculean efforts the Navy will undertake to protect its most prized assets, then it has identified an exploitable vulnerability. Their assumptions and investments in fielding anti-carrier systems are correct and will always be cheaper and easier to deploy than the platform they target.

In chess, the objective is to capture the opponent’s King, not protect its queen at all costs. But there is evidence that is exactly what is occurring.44 Naval planners appear unwilling to consider a role for the carrier as anything other than the main effort of any naval campaign.45 Such closed-mindedness is unlikely to result in lucky outcomes, but rather short-sighted and costly sacrifices.

Japan’s decision to use its carriers as diversions was in accordance with Magruder’s Principle and preyed directly upon Halsey’s psyche. Before discovering the Japanese carriers, Halsey remarked, “If this was to be an all-out attack by the Japanese fleet [referring to attempts to disrupt the Leyte landings], there was one piece missing from the puzzle – the carriers.”46 While Campaign Plan Granite and Nimitz’s orders prioritized the destruction of the Japanese fleet, Halsey, ultimately pursued because these were important pieces – important because carriers were important to him.47 Admiral Kurita ultimately made the same mistake and shifted his focus toward the escort carriers that were near the path to his main objective because he mistook them for fleet carriers. Subsequently entranced by his own carrier target fixation, even when there was abundant evidence that he was not facing fleet carriers, Kurita wasted his opportunity to exploit the decisive opening the Japanese decoy carriers had created for him.

Winning is the main objective, not forcing a use case that does not conform to reality. To outsmart your opponent, one must first know how that opponent perceives your centers of gravity. U.S. narratives, writings, and real-world operations extolling the importance of aircraft carriers do much to reinforce the perception that these queens are the U.S. Navy’s prized possessions and that they will be the main effort for any coming maritime war. Navy commanders should be ready to exercise a break with precedent to exploit this narrative by entertaining the idea that the carrier might be better suited for other roles, especially as a decoy force. If not, they risk falling victim to their own mythology.

Trevor “Mrs.” Phillips-Levine is a U.S. naval aviator and a special operations joint terminal attack controller instructor. He currently serves as the Joint Close Air Support division officer at the Naval Aviation Warfighting Development Center and as an advisor for weaponized small drone development in a cooperative research and development agreement.

Andrew “Kramer” Tenbusch is an F/A-18F weapons system officer and a recent Halsey Alfa research fellow at the U.S. Naval War College. He is a graduate of the Navy Fighter Weapons School (TOPGUN) and previously served as a carrier air wing integration instructor at the Naval Aviation Warfighting Development Center.

These views are presented in a personal capacity and do not necessarily represent the official views of any U.S. government department or agency.

References

[1] Nimitz’s Gray Book. Pg. 2246. Messages from CTF 77 began coming in on October 24th at 2207. At 2235, messages grew more desperate, “Under attack.” By 2239, CTF 77 made a desperate plea to Halsey, “Fast battleships are urgently needed immediately at Leyte Gulf.” At 2329, CTF 77 once again radioed Halsey, “My situation is critical.” At 0044, Nimitz sends Halsey the fateful message, “Where is task force 34?”

[2] C. Vann Woodward. “The Battle for Leyte Gulf,” Skyhorse Publishing, Inc. 2017.

[3] No Author. “Chess Terms: Queen Sacrifice,” Chess.com, No date. (Accessed May 19th, 2023)

[4] Gerry Doyle & Blake Herzinger. “Carrier Killer: China’s Anti-Ship Ballistic Missiles and Theater of Operations in early 21st Century,” 2022. Pg. 39.

[5] Brad Lendon and Haley Britzky. “US can’t keep up with China’s warship building, Navy Secretary says,” CNN Online. February 22, 2023. (Accessed May 19th, 2023)

[6] Dr. Jerry Hendrix. “Retreat from Range: The Rise and Fall of Carrier Aviation,” Center for a New American Security, October 2015. Pg. 51.

[7] I Cutis Utz. “Fleet Problem IX: January 1929,” Naval History and Heritage Command, no date. (Accessed May 20th, 2023)

[8] Ibid.

[9] Scot MacDonald. “Evolution of Aircraft Carriers: The last of the Fleet Problems,” National Museum of the U.S. Navy, accessed August 28th, 2023. (history.navy.mil) Pg. 36

[10] Thomas G. Mahnken. “The Cruise Missile Challenge,” Center for Strategic and Budgetary Analysis, 2005. Pg. 12-13.

[11] No Author. “Loss of USS Wasp,” “Loss of the USS Block Island,” “USS Yorktown,” “The Sinking of the USS Liscome Bay,” National Museum of the U.S. Navy, accessed August 6th, 2023. (https://www.history.navy.mil)

[12] William P. Gruner. “U.S. Pacific Submarines in World War II,” Reprinted by the San Francisco Maritime National Park Association, Accessed August 6th, 2023. (https://maritime.org/doc/subsinpacific.php#pg6)

[13] No Author. “Naval-History.Net,” Accessed August 6th, 2023. (https://www.naval-history.net/WW2aBritishLosses02CV.htm)

[14] No Author. “Loss of USS Bismarck Sea,” “Loss of the USS St. Lo,” “USS Ommaney Bay,” National Museum of the U.S. Navy, accessed August 6th, 2023. (https://www.history.navy.mil)

[15] Chris Hobson and Andrew Noble, Falklands Air War (Hinckley, UK: Midland Publishing, 2002), 157–58; John Lehmann, “Reflections on the Special Relationship,” Naval History 26, no. 5 (September 2012).

[16] Andrea Gilli, Mauro Gilli, Antonio Ricchi, Aniello Russo, and Sandro Carniel. “Climate Change and Military Power: Hunting for Submarines in the Warming Ocean,” Texas National Security Review 7, no. 2 (Spring 2024): 16-41. https://doi.org/10.26153/tsw/52240.

[17] Craig Hooper. “The Navy Is Ill-Equipped to Come to the Rescue,” Forbes, February 28th, 2023. https://www.forbes.com/sites/craighooper/2023/02/28/when-an-american-carrier-needs-help-what-will-us-navy-do/

[18] Dana Priest & Judith Havemann. “Second Group of U.S. Ships Sent to Taiwan,” The Washington Post, March 11th, 1996.

[19] Kristen Gunness and Phillips C. Saunders. “Averting Escalation and Avoiding War: Lessons from the 1995-1996 Taiwan Strait Crisis,” China Strategic Perspectives, December 2022. Pg. 23.

[20] David Lague & Maryanne Murray. “War Games T-Day: The Battle for Taiwan,” Reuters, November 5th, 2021.

[21] Gerry Doyle & Blake Herzinger. “Carrier Killer: China’s Anti-Ship Ballistic Missiles and Theater of Operations in early 21st Century,” 2022. Pg. 12, 29, & 35.

[22] Dr. Jerry Hendrix. “Retreat from Range: The Rise and Fall of Carrier Aviation,” Center for a New American Security, October 2015. Pg. 51.

[23] Gerry Doyle & Blake Herzinger. “Carrier Killer: China’s Anti-Ship Ballistic Missiles and Theater of Operations in early 21st Century,” 2022. Pg. 35.

[24] Henk H.F. Smid. “An Analysis of Chinese Remote Sensing Satellites,” The Space Review, September 26th, 2022. https://www.thespacereview.com/article/4453/1

[25] No author. “Project 2319 Tianbo [Sky Wave] Over-the-Horizon Backscatter Radar [OTH-B],” Global Security Organization, No Date. (Accessed May 24th, 2023) https://www.globalsecurity.org/wmd/world/china/oth-b.htm

[26] Alastair Luft. “The OODA Loop and the Half-Beat,” The Strategy Bridge, March 17th, 2020. https://thestrategybridge.org/the-bridge/2020/3/17/the-ooda-loop-and-the-half-beat

[27] Alex Hern. “Computers now better than humans at recognizing and sorting images,” Guardian, May 13th, 2015.

[28] Yuan-Chou Jing. “How Does China Aim to Use AI in Warfare,” The Diplomat, December 28th, 2021. https://thediplomat.com/2021/12/how-does-china-aim-to-use-ai-in-warfare/

[29] Based on an interview with Laruen Kahn, an artificial intelligence researcher and a policy advisor at Force Development and Emerging Capabilities at the Department of Defense.

[30] Annie Brown. “Biased Algorithms Learn From Biased Data: 3 Kinds of Biases Found in AI Datasets,” Forbes, February 7th, 2020. (https://www.forbes.com/sites/cognitiveworld/2020/02/07/biased-algorithms/?sh=19897ab76fc5).

[31] Lauren Leffer. “Humans Absorb Bias from AI – And Keep It after They Stop Using the Algorithm,” Scientific American, October 26th, 2023. https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/humans-absorb-bias-from-ai-and-keep-it-after-they-stop-using-the-algorithm/#:~:text=She%20cites%20a%20recent%20assessment,tools%20than%20to%20other%20sources.

[32] The Battle of the Philippine Sea devastated the Imperial Japanese Navy’s pilot cadre. Unable to train pilots fast enough, the decision was made to use the Japanese carriers as diversions, and carrier aircraft would be flown off to be land-based. Meanwhile, US commanders were frustrated that Japan’s carrier force was left relatively intact after the battle and still assumed them to be threats.

[33] Sam LaGrone. “Camouflaged Ships: An Illustrated History,” U.S. Naval Institute News, March 1st, 2013.

[34] Mia Jankowicz. “Russia is painting dark strikes on its warships to make them look smaller and confuse Ukrainian drones, says expert,” Business Insider, July 5th, 2023. (https://www.businessinsider.com/russia-warships-paint-camouflage-confuse-ukrainian-drones-usvs-2023-7)

[35] Miriam Bibby. “Britain’s WWI Mystery Q-Ships,” The History and Heritage Accommodation Guide, No date. (Accessed May 28th, 2023)

[36] Gary Anderson. “How Navy Decoy Drones Could Thwart China’s War Strategy in the Pacific,” Military.com, September 6th, 2022.

[37] Andrew Higgins, “Russian Troops in Belarus Spur Debate Over the Threat to Ukraine,” New York Times, October 21, 2022, https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/21/world/europe/ukraine-belarus-russian-troops.html

[38] Donald P. Wright. “Deception in the Desert: Deceiving Iraq in Operation DESERT STORM,” Army University Press, 2018.

[39] Trent Hone. “Countering the Kamikaze,” Naval History Magazine Vol. 34, No. 5, October 2020.

[40] Lieutenant Commander Jeff Vandenengel, USN. “100,000 Tons of Inertia,” Proceedings Vol. 146/5/1407, May 2020.

[41] Lieutenant Commanders Collin Fox & Dylan Phillips-Levine, USN. “Launch Big Missiles from Big Ships,” Proceedings Vol. 149/1/1439, January 2023.

[42] Jerry Hendrix. “The U.S. Navy Needs to Radically Reassess How it Projects Power,” The National Review, April 23rd, 2015. https://www.nationalreview.com/2015/04/age-aircraft-carrier-over-jerry-hendrix/

[43] David Axe. “This U.S. Navy Aircraft Carrier Won’t Be Headed to the Scrapper,” The National Interest, March 3rd, 2019.

[44] Gerry Doyle & Blake Herzinger. “Carrier Killer: China’s Anti-Ship Ballistic Missiles and Theater of Operations in early 21st Century,” 2022. Pg. 10.

[45] Dr. R. B. Watts. “The Wrong Lessons from a Century of Conflict,” Modern War Institute, February 15, 2022.

[46] C. Vann Woodward. “The Battle for Leyte Gulf,” Skyhorse Publishing, Inc. 2017. Pg. 41.

[47] No Author. “Campaign Plan Granite,” Pg. 2.

Featured Image: South China Sea (Oct. 9, 2019) Multiple aircraft from Carrier Air Wing (CVW) 5 fly in formation over the Navy’s forward-deployed aircraft carrier USS Ronald Reagan (CVN 76). (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Kaila V. Peters/Released)

Strategy

Strategic Military Public Affairs: Safeguarding U.S. Naval Supremacy through Narrative Control

3 Comments

By Richard Rodgers

In an era marked by the complexities of global politics and evolving information landscapes, the role of military public affairs becomes increasingly significant in shaping and safeguarding a nation’s strategic interests. The United States, with its longstanding commitment to naval supremacy, recognizes the importance of effectively controlling the narrative surrounding its military actions. The concept of military public affairs, particularly in the context of U.S. naval supremacy, is the public facing image that controls the warfighter narrative, that holds both allies and adversaries accountable where the lines between truth and misinformation become blurred or even completely eroded. The ability to hold both adversaries and allies accountable is a crucial factor in maintaining U.S. naval dominance. The symbiotic relationship between military public affairs and naval power projection is imperative to generate a narrative control that can serve as a strategic tool for U.S. national security interests.

At its core, military public affairs disseminates information, manages perceptions, and the shapes narratives about military activities both domestic and international audiences. The U.S. Navy, as a key component of the country’s military apparatus, relies on effective public affairs strategies to not only inform the public but also to project strength and maintain influence on the global stage.

Naval supremacy, characterized by the ability to project power across oceans and dominate maritime spaces, requires more than just technological superiority: it necessitates the construction of narratives that underscore the importance and legitimacy of U.S. naval activities. These narratives not only serve to rally public support at home but also influence how foreign nations perceive and respond to U.S. naval operations. The intersection of military public affairs and naval supremacy is grounded in the recognition that perception and information can be as powerful as the hardware itself to maintain maritime dominance.

In the contemporary information landscape, the challenge of navigating competing narratives, especially when allies and competitors may not prioritize objective truth, poses a significant hurdle to effective military public affairs. While transparency and truthfulness remain ideals, strategic interests often necessitate molding narratives that may not always align with objective reality. In cases where the U.S. and its allies may have divergent interests, a unified narrative that serves U.S. strategic goals becomes paramount.

It is crucial to acknowledge that the deliberate manipulation or distortion of information can erode trust, both domestically and internationally. The ethical dimensions of military public affairs must be carefully balanced against the imperative of protecting national security interests and the objective reality and transparency deserved by the public both at home and abroad. This calls for a nuanced approach that requires a balance between narrative control and maintaining credibility.

Narrative control, despite its ethical complexities, provides the U.S. with a strategic instrument to maintain naval supremacy amidst divergent interests. Through skillful public affairs management, the U.S. Navy can shape perceptions of its capabilities, intentions, and achievements, which in turn influence allies and potential adversaries alike.

Effective military public affairs can contribute to deterrence by signaling resolve and capability. Through carefully curated narratives, the U.S. Navy can underscore its preparedness to defend its interests and respond decisively to any threat. Such narratives serve as a deterrent against potential adversaries and discourage hostile actions through conveyance of the perception of as the preeminent naval force.

In an era of information abundance, credibility is a sacred asset that cannot be sacrificed. Misinformation or deliberate manipulation, especially when uncovered, damages both public trust and international partnerships. To avoid erosion of credibility, military public affairs strategies should be underpinned by a commitment to accurate and responsible communication. The challenge of maintaining narrative control becomes particularly pronounced during times of crisis. While the impulse to shape narratives in favor of national interests remains strong, crises demand a degree of transparency to manage public perceptions effectively. To illustrate the complexities of military public affairs in the context of U.S. naval supremacy, two case studies can provide valuable insights: the First Gulf War during the early 1990s and the current disputes in the South China Sea.

During the Gulf War, the U.S. military engaged in comprehensive public affairs campaigns to shape the narrative surrounding its intervention in Kuwait. The portrayal of U.S. actions as a response to aggression and a defense of international norms served instrumental in building a coalition of international support. Public affairs carefully constructed a narrative to garner global backing, efforts to maintain credibility were challenged by controversies such as the reporting of “baby incubator” incidents, which were later debunked. This highlights the delicate dance between narrative control and ethical communication during conflict.

The territorial disputes in the South China Sea involve varying narratives from different nations involved, including U.S., its allies, partners, and competitors. The U.S. Navy conducts Freedom of Navigation Operations (FONOPs) in the region to challenge excessive maritime claims, maintaining a consistent narrative is crucial to strengthen alliances to uphold adherence to the norms set forth by the United Nations Conventions Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), which helps counterbalance Chinese Communist Party (CCP) influence. However, divergent interests among allies can complicate efforts to maintain a unified narrative, underscoring the challenge of narrative control in a multilateral context.

The realm of military public affairs is a multifaceted landscape where the necessity of narrative control intersects with the ethical imperative of truthfulness. In the pursuit of maintaining U.S. naval supremacy, the ability to shape narratives that align with strategic interests becomes an indispensable tool for projecting power, deterring adversaries, and building alliances. Yet, this must be tempered by a commitment to credibility and transparency, recognizing that the erosion of trust results in dire consequences. As the information landscape continues to evolve and geopolitical dynamics shift, the role of military public affairs in safeguarding U.S. naval dominance will remain crucial. The lessons from historical case studies underscore the need for careful calibration of narrative control and ethical communication. In an age where perception and information are as influential as military might, mastering the art of military public affairs will be a key to unlock U.S. naval supremacy in the 21st century.

Richard Rodgers previously served as a noncommissioned officer in U.S. Navy Public Affairs. He worked at the Creative Director for Navy Public Affairs Support Element East, the Navy’s premiere expeditionary public affairs command, Communications Director for Carrier Strike Group 10 Public Affairs, and a content developer at Defense Media Activity. He currently studies at Harvard University and works as a writer. The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the position of any institution.

Featured Image: (Feb. 15, 2023) – Ships and aircraft from Nimitz Carrier Strike Group (NIMCSG) and Makin Island Amphibious Ready Group (MKI ARG), with embarked 13th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU), operate in formation in the South China Sea.  (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Kenneth Lagadi)