Stephen DeCasien, a Ph.D. candidate at Texas A&M University studying Nautical Archaeology, discusses his team’s effort to build a naval ram based on ancient techniques. The ram DeCasien and his team produced is the first of its type built in 1,500 years.
When I attended a small Catholic high school in the early 1980s, several teachers tried to dissuade me from pursuing a military career. In the shadow of the Vietnam War, some questioned whether military service could be reconciled with the moral demands of the Catholic faith, while others simply opposed me serving on social or political grounds. A Jesuit reassured me that a military protecting a free society must be led by virtuous men and women of conscience—the type the high school endeavored to cultivate.
Today, the U.S. military’s strongest domestic critics are not on the political and social left, but the right. There is a growing chorus of voices who claim the military is too “woke,” that it has become a vehicle for progressive social experimentation at the expense of developing warfighting toughness and skills.
Historically, woke was a term used in Black communities to signify a general social consciousness. Today, when I hear or read critics of progressive policies using the term as a pejorative, it is rarely clear what they actually mean. What I do know is that there is no such thing as a coherent woke ideology, just as there is no such thing as “woke capitalism.” Opponents of change in the military—specifically, diversity and inclusion initiatives—often ascribe whatever bothers them to the term. And they often fail to realize that many of their preferred politicians are deliberately capitalizing on the acute outrage the term “woke” provokes in certain constituents, and how these politicians are purposefully repeating and cultivating the term to simply harness these constituents’ outrage for political benefit. The supercharged emotions the term “woke” incites among its critics has proven ripe for political exploitation.
It is hard to make an argument against such generalized, unspecific attacks. In fact, as an editor it is not my job to do so. But it is my job to carefully consider counterarguments to articles promoting diversity and inclusion initiatives, and we will continue to publish well-considered, thoughtful counterarguments. We will not publish fact-free rants. What we get is mostly the latter.
Social policies are always being debated across the country. In that sense, the U.S. military has always been changing. And many, if not most, changes were vigorously opposed by traditionalists, who viewed them as paths to warfighting incompetence, indiscipline, or moral destitution (or all the above). All too often, however, resistance to change rested on strawman arguments, and traditionalists wound up arguing with themselves while the country moved on. This is true of momentous changes, such as racial and gender integration, and those of less consequence and controversy (although, I assure you, plenty of mid-1800s Navy officers believed abandoning “the lash” would lead to a plague of indiscipline and mutiny). In any event, the military adapted and moved forward, responding, as it must in a representative democracy, to the demands of the public as articulated through their elected representatives.
What is important, I believe—and I make this case as a retired Navy officer and not as an editor—is to address the ostensibly growing call from many on the right to discourage young people they know from joining the military. While reliable, hard data is never presented, in recent months some commentatorsclaim progressive social policies are at least partially responsible for the military’s recent struggles with meeting recruiting goals. In October, Meghann Myers at Military Times dug into this problem. As you can read for yourself, while the charges of a “woke” military float free of any factual basis, the myth is gathering legs.
Recently, former Navy officer J. A. Cauthen attacked the U.S. Naval Academy’s diversity, equity, and inclusion policies and directivesas “ideological (re)education” and “wokeness.” The essay is poorly supported by real data, embarrassing in its frequent digressions into partisan jeremiads, and infused throughout with absurd assumptions and well-worn exaggerations, such as that they are teaching that America is “irredeemably racist.” It also features non-sequiturs, such as how any diversity training is at the expense of warfighting training and weakens warfighting culture (while there is a multitude of other things the Navy has done that have come at the expense of its warfighting training and culture). Former naval officer and undersecretary of the Navy Seth Cropsey made a similar argument more recently in the National Review.
Since I also teach an ethics course at the Academy, I found both Cauthen and Cropsey’s description of its curriculum and culture completely unrecognizable. And they, like so many likeminded critics of the Academy, dismiss the Brigade of Midshipmen, some of the brightest college students in the nation, as incurious followers incapable of earnestly considering all sides of an issue, thinking critically about it, and making up their own minds.
The Training Sailors Actually Get
Curious about what had changed in the Navy that is triggering charges of wokeness, I looked at what a typical sailor gets in terms of formal training in his or her first two years in service. Between eight weeks of basic training, follow-on special skills training (what the Navy calls A-school, or military occupational specialty training), and one full year of mandatory general military trainings (GMTs) at their first ship or command, I could not locate anything that qualified as “woke” training beyond annual equal opportunity training (EEO training). Perhaps some would include sexual assault prevention and domestic abuse training, but I have never heard or read a complaint against those in the context of wokeness.
EEO training is one of seven mandatory GMTs (another 11 can be assigned at commanding officers’ discretion, and most are probably held annually). EEO training is a thorough reviewof current U.S. law, Department of Defense, and Department of the Navy policy on equal opportunity and discrimination (based on race, color, religion, gender, age, etc.). It would be hard to argue that sailors and officers should not be educated on what the rules are, and what they can and should do if they believe the rules are being violated. Perhaps the only part of EEO training that could be controversial is the final barriers section, which aims to illuminate more subtle obstacles to minority opportunity and advancement. In a rough approximation, in the first two years in the Navy, less than two percent of a sailor’s formal training could even be remotely described as progressive social training.
Then there is Task Force One Navy, established in 2020 in the wake of nation-wide social justice protests to take a comprehensive look at the Navy’s progress and continued challenges in diversity and inclusion. It is beyond the scope of this essay to comment on the entire report. It contains many recommendations along five lines of effort. Not all will be implemented, but many will have at least some effect on Navy policies and processes in the future. It should be noted that the report contains many positive findings, acknowledging much progress the Navy has made in the past 20 years. Its fiercest critics seem to anchor on implications the service still harbors systemic barriers to inclusion, as evidenced by disproportional equity outcomes in promotion demographics and the like. However, for the Navy to acknowledge these outcomes and continually examine itself seems a responsible and unavoidable approach, not one beholden to any ideology. Warfighting in defense of a free society is not just about competence, training, and technology. It is about the will and support of the population, and that requires a military in whose ranks the population is more broadly represented.
Service before Politics
Whatever one thinks of the Navy’s diversity and inclusion initiatives, attempting to equate patriotism and service with partisan politics is wrong and harmful to national security. Unfortunately, it is becoming all too common by those who should know better. Anti-woke warriors such as Cauthen give away the game when he writes the following to explain the Naval Academy’s implementation of diversity and inclusion policies and programs, “Willing collaborators all too eager to appease their political masters are accomplishing this transformation through directives, policy, training, and the creation of new offices and positions staffed to advance the agenda of wokeness.” It seems Mr. Cauthen would have no problem if the Navy’s willing collaborators appeased political masters for whom he voted and approves. In his warped understanding of civil-military relations, civilian control is conditional—it depends on the political masters’ affiliation and viewpoint.
That a Naval Academy graduate who took a commission and swore an oath to support and defend the Constitution would write such a line is unfortunate. But he is one of many who cannot see, or refuse to see, the problem with such a view. My generation of Academy graduates from the 1980s has no business lecturing on this point. The shift to an all-volunteer force nearly 50 years ago always had the potential of a military gradually cultivating leaders who supported the political party that favored it more, both fiscally and culturally. This seems to have happened during the Reagan years.
Indeed, what today’s right wing seems most furious about is that they can no longer count on the military being a reliable constituency for their political positions and views. For years it counted on this, routinely trotting out claims that a socially conservative military would be weakened and possibly even destroyed if progressive policies infect it (never were such claims based on anything remotely close to real evidence). There is some truth to the view that military personnel tend to be socially conservative, but that often obscures how the views of servicemembers shift over time in step with society’s shifting views. The drastic change from the early 1990s until the 2010s of the percentage of Americans in favor of gays serving in the military is a case in point. As young Americans from different backgrounds join year after year, the military is constantly changing its makeup in many ways. The military is not some monastery insulated from society. It is society.
For those that claim wokeness is hurting recruiting, they should examine the demographic data from the 2022 midterm elections, even in the reddest states. Younger voters skew progressive, in some states more than 60 percent. Also, as Risa Brooks recently noted, 41 percent of military personnel identify as coming from a minority group. Not all minorities favor progressive policies of course, but they are statistically more likely to at least be more open to them. The notion that the military can solve its recruiting problem by renouncing wokeness and targeting red constituencies is fanciful, and a move that would harm its nonpartisan ethic.
What the Navy needs—what it has always needed—is patriotic Americans from all walks of life willing to serve with the comfort of knowing their personal political views are irrelevant. Servicemembers are free to believe what they want and vote any way they want. They are not free to cherrypick the policies and initiatives they will support.
Yet so little of what happens in the daily life of a Navy sailor can be attributed to a woke agenda. Even those with the most socially conservative views should have no trouble elevating the virtue of service above partisan politics. That many conservative commentators believe they should not (or cannot) do so speaks far more to those commentators’ fragile sensibilities than to a real problem.
It is worth reminding those who claim a woke military is a hostile place to serve the nation that at one time many Black Americans still chose to serve their nation in a segregated military, where discrimination was overt, entrenched, and legalized. Yet today, are socially conservative Americans actually going to refuse to serve because they must take EEO training or an FDA-approved vaccine, or are encouraged to use a gender-neutral pronoun as an act of respect, or must report to a ship or base no longer named for a Confederate traitor to the United States? While critics of wokeness in the military often claim they want to depoliticize the military, what they really want is to politicize it in their favor. This can even feature partisan loyalty tests, particularly for senior officers. This is inappropriate and dangerous, and military leaders have correctly resisted it.
In the 1970s and early 1980s, it was not uncommon to find critics on the left disparaging military servicemembers in terms that cast them as immoral and bloodthirsty agents of the American war machine. These attacks were unjustified and well beyond reasonable debate about the size and shape of, or even the need for, the armed forces. They fed a distorted narrative about American military life that deterred many young people from even considering service. Critics on the right who claim without evidence that the military is now corrupted by wokeness are committing the same sin. In fact, the military is full of smart, dedicated, and tough men and women. The true corruptors are those who refuse to rise above partisan politics to serve the nation and a greater cause.
Bill Bray is a retired Navy captain. He is the deputy editor-in-chief of the U.S. Naval Institute’s Proceedings magazine.
Featured Image: Sailors man the rails aboard the aircraft carrier Gerald R. Ford in June 2021. (U.S. Navy photo)
The U.S. Navy’s history is rich with inspiring achievements in information warfare, from Station Hypo’s successes in World War II to supporting raids against high-value targets during the Global War on Terror. Inspiring as U.S. Naval Intelligence history has been, achieving victory in the next fight will require specific training focused on developing the skills required to cope with all the data available to today’s information warriors.
Since the end of the Cold War, the U.S. Navy has greatly expanded its data-technology and collection capacity to meet analytical needs, creating a challenging paradigm: a data glut and an information deficit. Data literacy is key to reducing the disparity.1
Data literacy centers on reading, analyzing, and communicating with data. It is not a science:2 Reading requires understanding what data is and the aspects of the world it represents. Analyzing data refers to aggregating, sorting, and converting it into useful information. Finally, communicating with data means using that data to support a logical narrative to a particular audience, and is of the utmost importance to any navy’s information warriors.3 A naval intelligence example of data literacy at work is determining adversary reconnaissance aircraft sortie schedules and maintenance days, and then effectively communicating the derived intelligence to improve and better inform the Warfare Commander’s decision space.
Operational Intelligence Center
Pressured by advances in the speed, precision, and destructive force of naval weapons, operational intelligence (OPINTEL) is critical, and empowering U.S. Naval Intelligence through data literacy may be the key. This is not a new concept. Analysts harnessed these techniques during the Cold War when Navy Ocean Surveillance Information Centers (NOSIC) developed and employed databases of prior Soviet activities to inform analyses of ongoing operations.4 These successes in data literacy facilitated a favorable Cold War OPINTEL asymmetry that proved a key advantage over the Warsaw Pact.5 Available battlespace awareness technology is already making this task easier. However, making sense of the battlespace requires more than just using automated OPINTEL applications.
Data literacy, not science or analytics, is the answer, as it provides Naval Intelligence professionals with the ability to synthesize information and further aid tactical commanders in making informed decisions. OPINTEL centers can become tailored centers of excellence through data literacy. To streamline scouting the positions of Soviet forces in the 1970s, Fleet Ocean Surveillance Information Facility (FOSIF) centralized collection, exploitation, analysis, and dissemination, as scouting is not complete until the collected information is delivered to the tactical commander. Fusing information from national and tactical sensors, FOSIF’s dedicated support provided the intelligence needed for the fleet to operate further forward resulting in more efficient scouting.6,7,8
What and Why … Data-Driven Decision Making
Advances in digital technology produced exponential data growth, and the private sector began to develop essential technology and skills to understand this ever-expanding resource. This development mirrored similar operations analysis and research advances during World War II. Adding data and analysis in the private sector built an innovative school of thought: data-driven decision-making, emphasizing data literacy over science.9
Data literacy is an essential component of an organization’s strong data strategy. It promotes understanding and fosters workforce incorporation of data into daily operations. Not laying such a foundation and skipping right to higher-end approaches like data science will not achieve the macro-level result of making data more useful across the entire organization. The “godfather” of data literacy, Jordan Morrow, notes: “One doesn’t go from not being a runner to racing a 50-mile ultra-marathon the next day.” 10
Instead, Morrow emphasizes the three Cs: Curiosity, Creativity, and Critical thinking. Morrow’s proven approach promotes literacy and data “democratization.”11 An entire workforce using data can lead to a more adaptive and successful organization, as highlighted by a ThoughtSpot and Harvard Business Review study. The report found that successful companies enable all employees through data literacy to make more informed decisions resulting in higher customer and employee satisfaction and higher productivity.12 This increased productivity reduces the glut and bottlenecks by enabling data use among frontline workers.
Data experts recommend a three-step framework: defining literacy goals, assessing the workforce’s current skills, and laying out a learning path.13 Naval Intelligence’s goal should be to create a confident and curious force that can critically think with data to support better and faster decisions throughout the spectrum of conflict. This simple goal focuses on people, as they matter most.
The assessment process aims to set measurable goals and lay the foundation for making Naval Intelligence more data literate. Assessing baseline data skills begins with examining how Naval Intelligence uses data in battlespace awareness, assured command and control, and integrated fires. Understanding how data is applied across the community identifies core skills and helps foster a culture that appreciates the value of data literacy.
The assessment process should also include examining data tool usage and functionality. Experts believe such analysis is crucial to improving return on investment and developing a tailored learning path that fully leverages technology. The final part of the assessment process is surveying the force by testing a sample of personnel on their ability to read, work with, analyze, and communicate with data in ways that support better warfighting.
Informed by the assessment, the data literacy-learning path will align with the Naval Intelligence training continuum. A data-literate cadre begins with exposing personnel to data during accession schools. Initial instruction will teach new personnel the value of data by introducing common concepts and language. The foundational education cultivates the three Cs by building confidence and demonstrating data’s possibilities while reducing barriers. Training will continue throughout accession and intermediate schools as personnel will receive instruction on data tools and functionality.
The learning path will not end at the schoolhouse. Each step of the Fleet Response Training Program (FRTP) will reinforce data literacy by teaching information warfare teams afloat how to use data.
The Three Cs: Applied to a Taiwan ADIZ Case
Data literacy empowers a workforce to see the world differently. Economist Tim Harford wrote: “Whatever we’re trying to understand about the world, each other, and ourselves, we won’t get far without statistics.” 14 Applying these skills to publicly available Taiwan Air Defense Identification Zone (TADIZ) data can exemplify the power of data literacy.
Since September 2020, Taiwan’s Ministry of National Defense has publicly reported on the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) air operations inside the TADIZ. The PLA flew 3158 TADIZ sorties as of 5 March 2023, likely as part of a larger effort to erode Taiwan sovereignty and message against outside interference. 15,16,17 This begs the question, is there an operational objective that aligns with the strategic intent?
PLA aircraft reportedly entered the TADIZ on 67% of days between 9 September 2020 and 5 March 2023.18 Most (77%) of the daily incursions involved less than the mean number of aircraft (5.04), and about a third (34%) of daily incursions had only one aircraft enter the TADIZ. The majority of single sortie missions (63%) occurred between October 2020 and September 2021. Reconnaissance aircraft primarily (95%) flew these missions. Such domain awareness sorties also normalized incursions and reinforced Chinese interests while challenging Taiwan’s ability to enforce its declared ADIZ.19
These actions likely forced Taiwan to choose between either not responding to the incursions or expending finite military resources (aircraft and pilot hours), thereby achieving China’s goal of pressuring Taiwan, according to Dr. Ying Yu Lin.20 If Taiwan did not respond, the flights could be perceived as legitimizing Chinese claims and eroding those of Taiwan.
The PLA transitioned to predominantly fighter incursions (a mean of 64% of monthly TADIZ activity) in September 2021, further bolstering its claims of control over the airspace while increasing the pressure on Taiwan. Fighter sorties also accounted for an even more significant portion (89%) of TADIZ incursions in reaction to then Speaker Pelosi’s 2 August 2022 Taiwan visit.
During the month-long response to the Speaker’s visit, the PLA persistently flew a larger volume of incursions. The daily mean (15) number of aircraft throughout the response was well above the mean (11) number of aircraft flown in reaction to other international engagements with or exercises near Taiwan. Previous reactions also only lasted 1-3 days. The PLA likely increased its sorties to explicitly demonstrate airspace control and force Taiwan to expend more resources as punishment.
The Need for Data Literacy
Applying the Three Cs to recognize patterns like the transition to predominantly fighter TADIZ incursions increases operational awareness in near real-time and can support ongoing analysis similar to the NOSIC’s databases. This renewed emphasis on data can improve fleet operations by providing tactical commanders with objective facts, increasing OPINTEL support and understanding of adversary objectives.
Achieving such an OPINTEL advantage requires a data-literate U.S. Naval Intelligence community that can rapidly turn the glut into usable information. An entire force able to discover critical insights and efficiently communicate will tightly couple intelligence and analysis to the engagement of targets during distributed maritime operations. As ADM Gilday noted: “Information has become the cornerstone of how we operate.”21 Gaining favorable OPINTEL asymmetry enables the decision advantage by providing commanders with the information required to “…decide and act faster than anyone else.”22,23,24
Andrew Orchard is a U.S. Navy intelligence officer and selected Mansfield Fellow, currently serving as the Officer in Charge of the Joint Reserve Intelligence Center New Orleans.
The views expressed in this article is that of the author and does not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the U.S. Navy, Department of Defense, or the U.S. Government.
1. Sharman, CAPT Christopher. China Moves Out: Stepping Stones Toward a New Maritime Strategy. Washington D.C.: Nation Defense University, 2015.
2. Morrow, Jordan. Data Literacy – The Human Element in Data United Nations Office of Information and Communications Technology. 25 November 2020.
3. Brown, Sara. “How to Build Data Literacy in Your Company.” 9 February 2021. MIT Sloan Management School. https://mitsloan.mit.edu/ideas-made-to-matter/how-to-build-data-literacy-your-company.
4. Rosenberg, Christopher Ford and David. “The Naval Intelligence Underpinnings of Reagan’s Maritime Strategy.” The Journal of Strategic Studies (2005): 397.
5. Ibid, 402.
6. Hughes, CAPT (ret) Wayne. Fleet Tactics and Coastal Combat. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2000. 175.
7. Rosenberg, Christopher Ford and David. “The Naval Intelligence Underpinnings of Reagan’s Maritime Strategy.” The Journal of Strategic Studies (2005): 402.
8. Ball, Desmond Ball and Desmond. The Tools of Owatatsumi: Japan’s Ocean Surveillance and Coastal Defence Capabilities. Canberra: ANU Press, 2015. 93-96.
9. Stobierski, Tim. “The Advantages of Data-Driven Decision-Making.” 26 August 2021. Harvard Business Review. https://online.hbs.edu/blog/post/data-driven-decision-making.
10. Morrow, Jordan. Data Literacy – The Human Element in Data United Nations Office of Information and Communications Technology. 25 November 2020.
11. Morrow, Jordan. Jordan Morrow and Qlik’s Mission to Create a Data-Literate Workforce. 15 April 2020. https://medium.com/digital-bulletin/jordan-morrow-and-qliks-mission-to-create-a-data-literate-workforce-c450a01714f5.
12. ThoughtSpot and Harvard Business Review. The New Decision Makers. Cambridge: Harvard Business Review, 2020.
13. Brown, Sara. “How to Build Data Literacy in Your Company.” 9 February 2021. MIT Sloan Management School. https://mitsloan.mit.edu/ideas-made-to-matter/how-to-build-data-literacy-your-company.
14. Harford Tim. The Data Detective: Ten Easy Rules to Make Sense of Statistics. New York: Penguin Random House, 2021. 16.
24. The author wishes to thank Christopher Underwood and Ryan Meder for advice on this article.
Featured Image: SOUTH CHINA SEA (Feb. 6, 2023) U.S. Navy Ensign Bradley Davis stands watch aboard the Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer USS Wayne E. Meyer (DDG 108). (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Mykala Keckeisen)
Read Part 1 on defining distributed maritime operations. Read Part 2 on anti-ship firepower and U.S. shortfalls. Read Part 3 on assembling massed fires and modern fleet tactics.
By Dmitry Filipoff
Modern naval combat can consist of forces firing dozens if not hundreds of missiles at one another’s fleets and salvos. These volumes of fire can be unleashed within mere minutes as forces look to launch offensive and defensive salvos that are large and dense enough to kill and defend warships. Yet these sophisticated weapons are available in limited numbers and require long lead times to produce.1 Only a fraction of these inventories are available for immediate use given how the magazines of the operating force’s platforms are distinct from the weapon stocks they draw from. Militaries can be limited to using the weapon stocks they had shortly before conflict broke out, and a short conflict may be decided by what was mainly fielded in platform magazines. Unless the conflict becomes especially prolonged and the industrial base grows significantly, the inventory of precision weapons will steadily diminish and pose critical constraints. A core operational challenge is how to carefully manage weapons depletion while still unleashing massed fires.
Weapons depletion is in its own right a powerful force for shaping warfighting behavior and securing major operational advantage. The larger consequences of depletion can include steep decreases in unit availability and overall operations tempo on a theater-wide scale. This challenge is especially severe for the U.S. Navy given how long it would take a depleted U.S. warship to travel out of a Pacific battlespace, rearm in safe havens, and return to the fight.2 In a short, sharp conflict featuring intense salvo exchanges, a warship that depletes itself only once may very well miss the rest of the war.
The concentration and distribution of a force will flex and evolve as its platforms suffer depletion. As commanders look to employ mass fires, they must be mindful of how to spread depletion across the force, how to interpret the adversary’s expenditures, and how inventory pressures can be manipulated through the last-ditch salvo dynamic.
Distribution and Depletion
One of the critical advantages of massing fires from distributed forces is the ability to more effectively manage depletion. A distributed force fielding a vast array of overlapping firepower makes for an especially large and shared magazine. This offers a much greater chance of mustering enough firepower to overwhelm robust defenses while achieving a better spread of depletion. Depletion can be spread across a broader scope of platforms and occur more gradually across the force, rather than all at once for individual strike platforms and force packages. Spreading depletion prolongs distribution, because every depleted asset makes the remaining force less distributed and more concentrated.
Some platforms and force packages certainly have sufficiently deep magazines to launch large enough volumes of fire on their own, with less of a need for outside contributing salvos. But large standalone salvos diminish a core tenet of distribution – maintaining many spread out threats to complicate adversary targeting. Forces that fire large standalone salvos can quickly give away that they just depleted most of their offensive firepower, reducing their value as targets and diminishing the distribution of the broader force.
The more a platform has to discharge a large number of missiles to contribute fires, the more easily an adversary can ascertain the composition and depth of their remaining inventory. A U.S. destroyer that fires 30-40 Maritime Strike Tomahawks in a single large salvo can give away that it has little remaining long-range anti-ship weaponry. By comparison, massing fires from a broader array of distributed forces makes it harder for an adversary to ascertain when platforms and formations have depleted their individual magazines.
Aggregation allows firepower to be combined in smaller portions from individual launch platforms. Ideally each launch platform can afford to expend only a small fraction of its magazine at a time, if many other platforms are doing the same with proper timing and coordination. Individual platforms will be able to sustain distributed offensive threats for longer than if they had fired off large, independent salvos of their own.
However, as inventory begins to dwindle across a distributed force, mass fires can cause larger portions of the force to reach the end of their magazines around a similar timeframe. This could radically collapse the offensive posture and capability of the distributed fleet if not carefully managed. By delaying magazine depletion at the individual platform level, mass fires risk magazine depletion across a broader portion of the force at a later time.
Consider a fleet that has four distributed warships available for contributing fires. If one warship emptied its entire offensive inventory per strike, then the remaining force becomes increasingly concentrated and predictable as to where the next several strikes may come from. Instead, if those four warships combine fires to launch a quarter of their offensive inventory per strike, the distributed force posture endures for more time and across more attacks. But all of those warships would deplete at a similar time, triggering a larger drop in force distribution compared to depleting only one platform per strike through the first scheme. By spreading depletion to prolong distribution, mass fires trade smaller decreases in distribution earlier in the fight in exchange for larger decreases later on.
Having deeper magazines or more strike platforms reduces the share of magazine depth each attacker must deplete to contribute to mass fires, and further delays the broader depletion of the force. A distributed force posture can be preserved by having a large number of assets with overlapping firepower, or rotating assets quickly enough to replace those that have depleted their magazines. The goal is to maintain enough available firepower over time so the distribution of the force can endure.
Asymmetric Weapons Depletion and Operational Risk
There are important asymmetries in how warships can deplete their offensive missile firepower versus their defensive firepower. One asymmetry is that commanders may be deeply uncomfortable keeping large surface warships in the battlespace when they are low on defensive firepower but fuller on offensive firepower compared to the reverse situation. Another key asymmetry is that defensive firepower is mostly drawn from the local magazines of the naval forces under attack, while offensive firepower can be drawn from the many magazines of a broader distributed force. Leveraging these key asymmetries can secure operational advantage.
Even if a ship survives an intense attack, being on the wrong side of firing effectively first can take the form of being low on defensive firepower while still full on unused offensive firepower. These units can still remain offensive threats, but the volume of fire required to overwhelm their defenses is substantially lowered. This can force commanders to pull these units out of the fight for the sake of survival and replenishing their defenses.
In this sense, firing effectively first is not only defined by scoring successful hits and kills, it can also mean depleting enough of the adversary’s defenses that commanders no longer feel confident in pressing their attack or maintaining warships in a contested battlespace. If those depleted warships are in escort roles and are responsible for defending other ships, then those ships could be forced to withdraw as well. By depleting defensive firepower to the point that warships must be withdrawn before they can attack, those warships’ offensive inventory can be removed from the fight before it can be used, thereby suffering depletion indirectly.
The battle of nerves in naval salvo warfare is partly a function of accepting risk for the sake of minimizing weapons depletion. A more efficient missile exchange tolerates more risk, demanding stronger nerves on the part of commanders. Otherwise, the desire to build more confidence into offensive or defensive engagements can make commanders waste their munitions. A defending warship that fires too many anti-air weapons per incoming missile wants to bolster its odds of near-term survival, but it can deplete itself earlier than warranted and increase risk in follow-on engagements. A warship that fires an excessive amount of anti-ship weapons can risk too much overkill and leave it with little offensive capability for later in the fight.
But commanders who attempt to precisely optimize their offensive salvos in a bid to just barely overwhelm targets with enough fire will risk much greater uncertainty than those willing to accept overkill by expending more volume. Indeed in a form of combat featuring salvos with dozens of missiles that only need to strike a single hit, overkill is more likely than not. Instead, it is the degree of overkill that separates what is sufficient from what is wasteful. Achieving a small degree of offensive overkill can be the more efficient outcome, since attacking with an insufficient volume of fire can lead to waste by making follow-on salvos once again pay the price of breaking through strong defenses to threaten a target. With too much overkill, a unit or commander witnessing a heavy volume of fire pouring into a dead or dying friendly warship may take some small satisfaction in knowing the enemy just suffered depletion far out of proportion to their target.
A key asymmetry is how the risk of depletion through overkill is much more manageable for offensive fires because of the greater ability to mass those weapons from across many forces. Defensive inventory has far less margin to work with because of the isolating effect of the radar horizon on ship self-defense, where there is little ability for ships to leverage a broader shared magazine against sea-skimming threats. An attack on a naval formation can consist of fires pulled from a wide variety of forces, but the formation will often have only its own magazine to defend itself. And with that magazine, the formation may not only have to match the incoming volume of fire, but exceed it to ensure survival. Matching the attacking volume with only one interceptor fired per incoming missile may not be enough to confidently survive a dynamic where a warship cannot afford to take a single hit, yet the attacker can afford to have every attacking missile take a hit except one.
For defensive volume of fire, there can be a thin line between what is sufficiently dense and what is wastefully excessive. Firing just one more interceptor per incoming missile can dramatically increase expenditure in a single engagement and result in a warship facing follow-on threats with a far more depleted magazine. But as mentioned, defensive depletion not only increases risk to the individual platform, it threatens to take that platform’s offensive fires out of the fight prematurely. The broader offensive inventory that is available for massed fires can therefore be threatened by the localized manner of defensive engagements and their especially depleting nature.
Range advantages convert to depletion advantages, where forces with longer-ranged weapons can inflict asymmetric depletion against their shorter-ranged opponents. These threatening dynamics are more probable for navies that can be up against anti-ship weapons with much greater ranges than their own, such as the current range disparity the U.S. Navy is suffering against many Chinese anti-ship missiles.
If two opposing forces have a major disparity in the range of anti-ship weapons, then the forces with less range can be forced to travel hundreds of miles while under fire before they can finally be in a position to attack. These warships can be depleting their defensive firepower while still pressing forward in an increasingly risky bid to bring their offensive firepower to bear. By comparison, the longer-ranged side will deplete far fewer defenses to make their attacks, if they have to deplete those defenses at all. Warships with a significant offensive range advantage are not only in a much better position to fire first, they can fire their salvos and then simply reverse course to keep themselves out of reach while preserving their defensive firepower. The outranged fleet can be pressing forward without much of its defensive firepower left, while the other fleet can be in the much more comfortable position of pulling back with most of its defensive firepower remaining. It is unlikely that the fleet with shorter-ranged weapons would be in a position to catch up to the opposition in many circumstances. Because of the vast distances involved and the large speed differential between anti-ship missiles and warships, it seems improbable that surface warships will run each other down on the open ocean in the age of missile warfare.
Increased payload range can also translate into increased reload speed, where shifting more of the burden of maneuver onto the payload shortens the logistical lifeline of the platform. The longer the range of the weapon, the less the platform has to travel between its launch areas and rearmament points, shortening the episodic drops in force distribution while offering higher rates of fire. This effect is especially potent for aviation, such as how aircraft firing JASSMs at 230 miles can have much lower reload rates and availability of fires compared to aircraft firing the 1,000-mile extreme range variant of JASSM (Figure 1).3An asymmetry in weapon range between opposing forces can translate into asymmetry in reload speeds, and make the distribution of a force more resilient against depletion than its adversary’s.
Massed Fires and Uneven Depletion Across Platform Types
As waves of massed fires ensue, the distribution of depletion across the platforms of a force can become uneven. A distributed force may prefer to prioritize its longest-ranged fires, its most common weapons, or other payloads for other reasons, which depletes the specific platforms that launch them. This sets the stage for operational tradeoffs and an evolving risk profile, since one type of platform’s fires can preserve the inventory of another’s, and different platforms have different magazine depths and timeframes for reloading. Uneven depletion can gradually shift the burden of massing fires onto platforms that must assume more risk to continue the fight, encouraging a force to carefully consider how to distribute weapons depletion across platforms over time.
The anti-ship Tomahawk will offer long range and broad magazine depth across many platforms, making it an ideal weapon for massing fires. But heavily prioritizing the use of the anti-ship Tomahawk can make surface forces and submarines among the first to deplete their anti-ship missile inventories, and where these platforms can take many days to reload and return to the fight. The weapons that can contribute the most to mass fires can suffer the most depletion, putting the distribution of the force at risk down the line.
As the fight continues and warships become more depleted, more of the U.S. burden of assembling mass fires against warships can gradually accrue to aviation because aviation can reload much faster than warships. This is especially true for carrier air wings, and carriers have the deepest magazines of all afloat combatants, potentially making them the last warships standing when it comes to remaining inventory after intense exchanges.4 Yet this would pose an especially concentrated posture to an adversary and force air wings to take major risks in deploying the remaining firepower. Preserving the anti-ship inventory of warships is therefore critical in forestalling a need to rely more heavily on aviation-based strikes, which would tie down numerous aircraft to muster volume of fire, pull carriers deeper into the battlespace, and assume more risk.
Yet this relationship is paradoxical. Preserving warship-based inventory can also take the form of leaning more on aviation fires earlier in the fight. Therefore a balance can be defined between the proportion of fires to come from different platform types at different phases of the fight, in order to manage how the risk profile of depletion evolves. A commander that carefully balances a combination of air wing depletion and warship depletion earlier in the fight can better delay the prospect of air wings shouldering more of the burden. Or a commander could heavily favor bombers in the opening phases, which can preserve warship-based fires for later phases, which preserves carriers. Depletion does not necessarily mean firing options have to get far worse as time goes on, depending on how commanders balance risk with regard to what combinations of launch platforms they favor depleting at different periods of the fight.
Submarines offer one of the most critical advantages in managing depletion through the highly favorable tradeoffs that come with sinking ships with torpedoes instead of missiles. The undersea domain is far less saturated with warship defenses compared to above the waterline. The cost of a missile salvo large enough to credibly threaten a group of several warships could easily exceed $100 million and require expending dozens of missiles.5 Credibly threatening the same group would require only several torpedoes, which could cost ten percent or less of the missile salvo.6 A single lethal torpedo strike can substitute for the dozens of missiles that could be required to overwhelm the same warship from above water.
By sailing far into contested littorals and laying near ports, bases, and maritime chokepoints, submarines are much more likely to be in a position to sink ships with fuller magazines compared to other platforms and deprive the adversary of inventory. However, closing the distance for torpedo strikes increases risks to submarines. The operational implications include weighing tradeoffs in the amount of risk commanders are willing to accept for their valuable submarines, versus the risk that could be incurred by depleting the broader missile magazine of the distributed force. Risking submarines in torpedo attacks can spare broader missile inventory and vice versa.
Aircraft and ground-based launchers certainly carry far fewer missiles per loadout compared to a large surface warship. Their shallower magazine depth substantially shortens the interval between launching fires and reloading, even if each of their fires is limited to a few missiles. But these platforms can typically access weapons stocks to rearm at a fraction of the time it takes a warship to do the same. Their shallow magazine depth can make their availability for fires more episodic than warships, but their episodes of depletion are not nearly as steep or prolonged. Land-based forces in the form of Chinese launchers on the mainland would have particularly more endurance than expeditionary stand-in forces that heavily depend on lengthy logistical lifelines to sustain their fires in a long fight.
The nature of uneven depletion will make for especially challenging command decisions. Commanders may face pressure to maintain depleted assets in the fight for the sake of posing some semblance of a distributed posture to the adversary. Commanders weighing such decisions would have to consider whether the adversary’s tracking of expenditure may have been accurate enough to provide the critical insight that portions of the distributed force are depleted. Operational behavior may significantly change based on one’s estimate of an adversary’s depletion and if asymmetric depletion has emerged between opposing forces.
Tracking adversary depletion is a critical operational imperative, but the desire to understand the specific composition and volume of missile salvos can place major demands on ISR and decision-making. Forces may struggle to distinguish between different types of anti-ship or anti-air missiles at long range and in the midst of battle. But knowing the type of launch platform narrows down the potential type of fires, where the tracking challenge is simplified by how certain weapons are exclusive to certain kinds of platforms. An F/A-18 firing on a warship is most likely firing Harpoons or LRASMs, and a Chinese warship firing on a ship is most likely firing YJ-83s or YJ-18s. Weapons that have longer range and are compatible with a broader variety of launch platforms will complicate the adversary’s ability to track expenditure and form estimates of depletion.
Defying Destruction and the Last-Ditch Salvo Dynamic
The adage of “firing effectively first” may be better described as striking effectively first, since two opposing naval formations can still destroy each other even if one fires after the other. In defining what it means to fire effectively first, an ideal kill of a warship or platform can include putting it out of action before it had a chance to use its offensive firepower. Similar to how it would be ideal to destroy a carrier while it is still embarking its air wing, it is ideal to destroy a warship before it has depleted its magazine of offensive missiles. This creates profound psychological and operational pressures that come into play when commanders of individual platforms and formations feel on the cusp of being destroyed. The critical phenomenon of last-ditch fires can threaten to destabilize distributed fleets and massed fires.
Commanders can be extraordinarily pressured to unleash most if not all of their offensive firepower if they believe there is a real risk of imminent destruction. Once a ship or fleet realizes that a potentially fatal salvo is incoming, enormous pressure can quickly force commanders to discharge their offensive firepower soon or else risk losing it permanently. Similar to how a carrier commander would be tempted to launch the air wing before the salvo hits the carrier, warships can make similar decisions with their missile magazines.
Last-ditch salvos are meant to deny the enemy one of the most critical benefits of firing effectively first. Launching a last-ditch salvo right before ships could be destroyed gives those offensive weapons a final chance of somehow contributing to the fight and deprives the adversary the benefit of sinking ships with fuller magazines. Last-ditch fires aim to ensure that archers are never destroyed before they can fire arrows. Concerns over losing limited weapons inventory are sharply intensified by lethal inbound salvos, making the last-ditch salvo a critical protocol for making the most of friendly losses moments before they are incurred.
A last-ditch anti-ship salvo cannot be an act of self-preservation. Commanders can be completely confident that an incoming salvo is dense enough and capable enough to overwhelm their defenses and destroy their warships. Launching their own anti-ship salvo in response is not going to change such an outcome. Anti-ship missiles cannot save warships from anti-ship missiles that are already incoming. These weapons can only save warships from anti-ship missiles that have yet to leave their magazines.
Many platforms that can threaten warships with anti-ship missiles cannot be threatened by those same missiles in return. This creates an asymmetric dynamic where some forces can enhance the effects of distribution by threatening to trigger last-ditch salvos that are futile. Since airborne aviation, submarines, and land-based forces cannot be directly attacked by anti-ship missiles, a warship launching a last-ditch salvo could very well be firing at perceived targets it can do nothing against. Even a single incoming torpedo from a submarine attack could trigger a last-ditch salvo fired in futility. Warships must strive to maintain awareness of candidate targets they can actually threaten with last-ditch salvos if a fatal attack comes from a domain they cannot effectively retaliate in.
A last-ditch salvo may be fired despite a lack of quality targeting information, since the method of simply firing down a line of bearing suggested by the incoming attack may be more than enough for a desperate warship. But warships ideally need broader situational awareness to launch effective last-ditch salvos, and especially to know whether they are under attack by a last ditch salvo themselves. If a warship does not recognize it is facing down a last-ditch salvo and simply reciprocates the attack, it could be firing on a warship with an empty magazine or even a warship that was already destroyed minutes earlier. This is even more wasteful than firing on a depleted warship, and a worthy result for warships whose final actions caused an adversary to waste precious firepower.
Last-ditch salvos are therefore a double-edged sword. This desperate act is meant to prevent precious weapons inventory from being permanently lost, yet this desire can be manipulated to prompt wasteful fires. An adversary can be made to take self-defeating actions in the crucial battle of nerves that infuses salvo warfare.
The simple appearance of an inbound volume of fire can be enough to trigger last-ditch firing protocols. Weapons with longer range and waypointing ability will have more opportunity to feint attacks on the way to their true target, multiplying the combat potential of salvos. If a weapon has enough range, attacking salvos may be waypointed to appear to threaten multiple targets in succession and provoke last-ditch fires from each (Figure 2).
Figure 2. A waypointed salvo triggers last-ditch fires from multiple formations by feinting attacks along the way to its true target. (Author graphic via Nebulous Fleet Command)
The U.S. may eventually have a substantial advantage in this regard by fielding a cruise missile with especially long range. The Tomahawk has enough range to where a salvo can threaten multiple naval formations through waypointed feints, even if those formations are distributed across hundreds of miles. If several Chinese naval formations are concentrated within 300 miles so they can mass YJ-18 missiles, then it becomes even more feasible to waypoint Tomahawks to trigger last-ditch fires within this radius. If one side’s naval formations have to concentrate within shorter distances to mass their fires, they become more susceptible to this waypointing tactic than their opponents, and they may not even have the range to launch viable last-ditch salvos at all.
Salvos used to trigger last-ditch fires may have to risk a degree of attrition by allowing themselves to be seen by warships. Networked missiles could coordinate pop up maneuvers to rise above the horizon and make themselves known, but only briefly enough before they can be struck by defensive fires. Otherwise the salvo could suffer enough attrition that it loses both its psychological and kinetic potency. Decoy weapons that can project the signatures of multiple aerial contacts, such as the ADM-160 MALD, can be used to inflate the appearance of mass while reducing the ability of defensive fires to chip away at the salvo.7
Posing the appearance of significant mass may not be a hard requirement for inducing last-ditch fires from a target. There may be a significant disparity in the volume of fire required to actually kill a platform, versus the volume of fire that is enough to manipulate it into firing prematurely. This disparity can stem from commanders being uncertain about the capability of enemy salvos or their ability to defeat them, or the strain of combat operations taking its toll on decision-making. The last-ditch dynamic can therefore magnify the tactical value of salvos that lack enough volume of fire to destroy targets. Commanders that are limited to local awareness may struggle to differentiate between a small salvo that was only launched as a standalone attack, versus a small salvo that is a harbinger of incoming mass fires. A small salvo can leverage these uncertainties to score outsized tactical benefit by triggering last-ditch fires despite not being able to actually threaten the target.
Even if a salvo cannot strike a target due to limited range or other constraints, it may still provoke emissions, signatures, and other reactions that could be exploited. Commanders may struggle to distinguish between different types of incoming missiles in real time, where last-ditch salvos consisting of low-capability, short-range, or non-anti-ship weapons can still manipulate reactions. A warship launching a last-ditch salvo could certainly fire its land-attack cruise missiles toward an enemy warship, who either can’t tell the difference or won’t take the chance. The prospect of wresting any sort of non-kinetic benefit can encourage platforms under heavy attack to launch last-ditch salvos regardless of capability or volume of fire.
And non-kinetics can prompt last-ditch fires themselves. Actions such as heavy jamming, blinding attacks against networks, aggressive posturing, and other methods that could be interpreted as a prelude to an imminent attack could also provoke last-ditch salvos. Last-ditch fires can be triggered by much more than just other fires.
The act of firing last-ditch salvos is extremely sensitive to timing given how warship launch cells are often carrying both offensive and defensive firepower, and how some cruise missiles require a minimum amount of lead time to be programmed for launch.8 A warship under attack from a subsonic anti-ship missile fired at a range of 250 miles has barely more than 20 minutes to react. And this assumes the target warship has knowledge of the launch. If the warship becomes aware of the incoming salvo only after it crosses the horizon, it can have roughly two minutes or less to prosecute an intense anti-air engagement while simultaneously discharging the whole of its offensive firepower in a last-ditch salvo. Those final moments would be characterized by an intense outpouring of the ship’s firepower in all-out offensive and defensive warfare. But these vast volumes of firepower would be bottlenecked by the rate of fire, of how many missiles can be fired by a warship’s launch systems in short periods of time. The volume of outgoing offensive and defensive firepower would be diminished as missiles of both types are primarily being fired from the same sets of launch cells, making them compete with each other for brief launch windows.
These challenges can be mitigated by having situational awareness over sea-skimming spaces that go beyond the radar horizon of a warship. Aircraft can provide early warning of incoming salvos and help warship commanders determine whether they must initiate a last-ditch salvo. Effective warning can allow commanders to discharge their last-ditch salvos early enough so that offensive missiles are not competing with defensive missiles for launch windows when it comes time for the warship to defend itself. In any case, warship commanders should strive to have a variety of pre-programmed responses at the ready so they can initiate last-ditch fires as fast as possible, and to have the subjective tactical judgement to know when it is time.
Warships under attack could be forced to fire their final salvos alone and in isolation from the broader distributed force. Yet last-ditch salvos may hardly be enough on their own to overwhelm concentrated defenses. This can put pressure on other combatants and commanders to add contributing fires in the hopes of growing enough volume to credibly threaten targets. A cascading domino effect could threaten to unravel a distributed force’s firepower as last-ditch salvos prompt hasty contributing fires from other platforms. The pressured nature of last-ditch salvos will exacerbate the timing challenges associated with combining fires and potentially rule out a variety of options for growing the volume of fire.
A commander of a distributed force must weigh the risks of attempting to combine fires with a last-ditch salvo. A last-ditch salvo may force a commander’s hand in adding contributing fires to a salvo that was fired on insufficient targeting data, lacks the volume to penetrate defended targets, or features other deficiencies. A commander could hold off on launching contributing fires, conserve the inventory of weapons, and allow the last-ditch salvo to play out on its own. But this may come at the risk of failing to support a salvo that could have effectively put opposing warships out of action if it had received just enough outside fires to tip the scales and cross the thresholds needed to overwhelm defenses. Commanders have to be ready to weigh these options as missile exchanges unfold in real time, and decide if a last-ditch salvo should remain a standalone attack, or leverage it through adding contributing fires.
As distributed forces unleash massed fires against one another, their desire to decisively overwhelm the opposition will be tempered by the need to minimize depletion. Depletion can threaten to break naval operations and yield major advantage to an adversary. Effectively massing fires from distributed forces can help manage depletion, but the need to achieve overwhelming volume of fire will make this risk a pervasive consideration at all levels of warfare.
Part 5 will focus on missile salvo patterns and maximizing volume of fire.
2. For one example, a warship on a one-way trip and traveling at 20 knots would take nearly two weeks to reach the Philippine Sea from U.S. naval infrastructure in San Diego. This assumes a straight line path, which may be less realistic under wartime conditions.
6. MK 48 MOD 7 torpedoes have an average unit cost of around $5 million, but have far less of a requirement to be salvoed in large numbers because of the less saturated nature of undersea warship defenses.