Tag Archives: unmanned systems

Law of Warfare

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

1 Comment

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

Employing Unmanned Surface Vehicles To Guard Ports and Harbors

Leave a comment

By George Galdorisi

“Globalization” instantly brings to mind the flow of international trade that has both lifted hundreds of millions out of poverty and delivered abundant choices to consumers. Almost all of this thrumming trade moves on the high seas, which is where I thought of it throughout my career as an active-duty U.S. naval officer. That blue-water framing changed in August 2020, when deadly explosions rocked the harbor in Beirut, Lebanon. Lost among the headlines that dominated the international news for weeks was the importance of ports and harbors to global commerce.

I live in an American city astride a major U.S. port, and now see it for what it is: a critical node for global trade. While many people focus on the importance of ships in carrying this seaborne trade, they often forget that the critical nodes that support globalization and world trade are the world’s ports and harbors. From Shanghai, to Antwerp, to Rotterdam, to Shenzhen, to Los Angeles, to other mega-ports, as well as hundreds of smaller ports, these ports are critical to world prosperity.

A disaster in one of these ports similar to what happened in the harbor in Beirut—an explosion in port, a fire on a large oil tanker, or any of a host of other events—could close one of these ports indefinitely, with catastrophic economic and ecological effects. More recently, the supply-chain backups at the U.S. ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach demonstrate the ripple effects of even a slowdown at a major port. A complete closure of one of these ports for even a few days would have dire consequences that would be difficult to mitigate without extraordinary effort.

The repercussions of slowdowns and stoppages justify wide-reaching preventative measures, but the magnitude of providing comprehensive security for an average size port—let alone some of the world’s mega-ports—can lure port authorities into wishing away the challenge. Ports present an all-too-inviting target for terrorists, other non-state actors, and even state-backed sabotage, and so ports must be vigilantly defended.

Faced with this challenge, port authorities must ensure security twenty-four hours a day, every day. This task includes continuous inspection of port assets, threat detection and security response, as well as on-demand inspections after storms or other disasters, ongoing surveys to ensure navigable waterways, hull inspections, and a wide-range of other missions.

Unmanned surface vessels can fill this gap better than legacy approaches.

The Current State of Port and Harbor Security

Port and harbor security has changed little in a generation. Most large ports rely on cameras placed at strategic locations and monitored by watch-standers to spot trouble. Port officials also provide security with a variety of manned surface vessels on regular patrols. This traditional approach is good, but it stresses the ability of port authorities to provide around-the-clock security and can lead to gaps in coverage, rendering ports less secure than they could be. 

Cameras seem to offer a cheap and effective solution, but someone — often several people —must monitor the video feeds. A port maintaining scores of cameras requires a command center and enough watch-standers, in rotating shifts, to monitor the video in real-time, twenty-four hours a day.

Similar issues accompany the use of manned craft to patrol a harbor of any size—let alone mega-ports. Manned vessel operations are increasingly expensive, are often limited by weather and water conditions. These small craft must be manned, typically by two or more people at a time, who must cope with the physical toll of riding a small vessel for hours on end. Unlike watch-standers on land who might be able to work shifts as long as eight or even twelve hours, pounding through an often-choppy harbor in a RHIB or other small craft means that a watch rotation of three to four hours is about all most people can endure.

With such short watch rotations, providing round-the-clock security is a costly endeavor under ideal conditions. Add rain, wind, waves, fog and other natural phenomena that often reduce visibility and slow patrol speeds, the need for more craft and more people can multiply significantly, often without warning, thereby further driving the need for standby crews. All-in-all, this is an expensive undertaking.

Additionally, there are many shallow areas throughout ports that are beyond the reach of typical manned vessels. Even limited draft craft like RHIBs draw some water when they are loaded with people, communications equipment, weapons and the like. A manned vessel pushing too close to shore also runs the risk of impaling itself—as well as its crew—against visible or invisible hazards. This risk is compounded at night and during dense fog and other adverse weather conditions.

Given the manifest challenges of providing adequate—let alone comprehensive—security for ports with current state-of-the-art systems and capabilities, it is little wonder that port officials are searching for technology solutions that will enable them to provide better security, at lower costs, and importantly, without putting humans at risk.

The Port of Los Angeles: A Mega-Port with a Mega-Challenge

The Port of Los Angeles (POLA) is the busiest port in the United States. This mega-port comprises 3,200 acres (42 square miles) of water, 43 miles of waterfront, 26 passenger and cargo terminals and 86 ship-to-shore container cranes. POLA handled over 9.3 million twenty-foot equivalent units (TEUs) of cargo last year (up from 8.8 million TEUs the previous year and predicted to increase year-over-year).

Current capabilities to secure the Port of Los Angeles’ 42 square miles of water involve monitoring the video provided by 500 cameras throughout the port, as well as patrolling the ports’ expanse of water with a fleet of manned vessels. This methodology stresses the ability of POLA authorities to provide the necessary 24/7/365 security. Additionally, POLA has a large number of shallow areas throughout its 43 miles of waterfront that are beyond the reach of any of the manned vessels.

For these reasons, Port of Los Angeles officials decided to explore the use of unmanned surface vehicles to enhance the security of the port. To that end, port officials invited Maritime Tactical Systems Inc. (MARTAC) to visit and demonstrate the capabilities of their MANTAS USV. MANTAS is a high-performance, commercial off-the-shelf USV built on a catamaran-style hull, and comes in a number of variants ranging in size from six-foot to 50-foot. A demonstration was conducted using a 12-foot MANTAS.

The 12-foot MANTAS (otherwise known as the T12) has a length of twelve feet and a width of three feet. It is fourteen inches high and draws only seven inches of water. The MANTAS can be equipped with a wide variety of above-surface sensors (EO/IR/thermal video) and below-surface sensors (sonars and echo-sounders), as well as other devices such as chem/bio/nuclear sensors, water quality monitors, and above/below surface environmental sensors.

Leveraging Previous Successful Demonstrations

POLA authorities requested the MANTAS demonstration principally because the system had performed so well in an earlier port security demonstration, the Mobile Ocean Terminal Concept Demonstration in Concord, CA, conducted by the U.S. Army’s Physical Security Enterprise & Analysis Group.

For these missions, three MANTAS vessels, T6, T8 and T12, were used to perform different operations. The MANTAS T6 was utilized as an intercept vessel to quickly address potential threats at high-speeds of up to 55 knots. This T6 was equipped with a standard electro/optical camera focused on rapid interdiction and threat identification. The second vessel was a MANTAS T8 equipped with a FLIR M232 thermal camera. Its role was as a forward-looking harbor vessel situational awareness asset. The final vessel was a MANTAS T12 tasked with prosecuting above and below surveillance operations to detect and identify intruder vessels, or other threats to harbor assets. The sensor kit included a SeaFlir 230 for above surface ISR capabilities and a Teledyne M900 for subsurface diver/swimmer detection.

The Port of Los Angeles Unique Requirements

During the visit to the Port of Los Angeles, MARTAC representatives provided a comprehensive briefing on MANTAS capabilities, took a three-hour boat tour to observe the entirety of POLA authorities’ span of operations, and then provided a remote demonstration where port officials controlled and observed a MANTAS T12 operating off the eastern coast of Florida. The demonstration validated the going-in assumption that employing a thoroughly tested and proven USV is a viable solution that POLA is keen to pursue.

The Devil Ray USV (Photo by Jack Rowley)

After observing the MANTAS remote demonstration, officials from the Port of Los Angeles determined that the capabilities of this USV met the requirements for the port’s wide variety of missions. That said, port officials asked MARTAC to scale-up the MANTAS to a 24-foot and 38-foot version, reflecting a concert that the 12-foot MANTAS was so stealthy that ships in transit would not see it. Additionally, the larger T24 and T38 could operate for longer periods and carry additional sensors. The T38 MANTAS has now been demonstrated in several U.S. Navy exercises, and conducted another port security demonstration in the Port of Tampa with similar results.

MANTAS has an open architecture and modular design, which facilities the rapid changing of payload and sensor components to provide day-to-day port security as well as on-demand inspections. Additionally, if a longer endurance or an increased mission payload sensor profile was desired by the port, the modularity of the MANTAS system will easily allow for increasing the size of the craft from the battery powered electric motor 12-foot T12 to a marine diesel fueled 24-foot T24 or 38-foot T38. This transition would eliminate the necessity for battery replacement/recharging on the T12 after each of the shorter missions.

This demonstration certified that commercial-off-the-shelf unmanned surface vehicles can ably conduct a comprehensive harbor security inspection of a mega-port such as the Port of Los Angeles. As a facility with a longstanding need to augment its manned vessel patrol activities with emergent technology in the form of unmanned surface vehicles, the Port of Los Angeles demonstration provided a best practices example of the art-of-the-possible for augmenting port security.

 

Enhancing the Effectiveness of Port and Harbor Security

The reliable, adaptable and affordable USV support to port security as described in this article has only been evaluated recently because the technology simply did not exist just a few years ago. 

In an article in the January 2020 issue of U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, Commander Rob Brodie noted: “When the Navy and Marine Corps consider innovation, they usually focus on technology they do not possess and not on how to make better use of the technology they already have.” Extrapolating his assertion to the multiple entities responsible for port and harbor security at mega-ports such as the Port of Los Angeles, one must ask if maritime professionals are to slow to leverage an innovative solution that can be grasped immediately.

This technology is available today with commercial off-the-shelf unmanned surface vessels, and these can be employed to increase the effectiveness of port protection if we do as Commander Brodie suggests and “make better use of the technology we already have.” And given the enormous personnel costs associated with monitoring cameras and patrolling with manned vehicles, this innovative solution designed to supplement current capabilities will drive down acquisition and life cycle costs while resulting in shorter times for a return on investment (ROI).

This Port of Los Angeles demonstration and subsequent Port of Tampa validation certified that commercial-off-the-shelf unmanned surface vehicles can ably conduct a comprehensive security inspection of a mega-port. As a facility with a longstanding need to augment its manned vessel patrol activities with emergent technology in the form of unmanned surface vehicles, the Port of Los Angeles demonstration provided a best practices example of the art-of-the-possible for enhancing port security.

As the world continues to come to grips with the human and economic impact of the Beirut harbor disaster, all nations would be well-served to leverage emerging technology to enhance the security of the ports and harbors that make the global economy hum. To fail to do so would be inviting a disaster that is eminently preventable.

Captain George Galdorisi (USN – retired) is a career naval aviator whose thirty years of active duty service included four command tours and five years as a carrier strike group chief of staff. He began his writing career in 1978 with an article in U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings. He is the Director of Strategic Assessments and Technical Futures at the Navy’s Command and Control Center of Excellence in San Diego, California. The views presented are those of the author, and do not reflect the views of the Department of the Navy or Department of Defense.

Featured Image: The Devil Ray USV (Photo by Jack Rowley)

Drones

Unmanned Mission Command, Pt. 1

3 Comments

By Tim McGeehan

The following two-part series discusses the command and control of future autonomous systems. Part 1 describes how we have arrived at the current tendency towards detailed control. Part 2 proposes how to refocus on mission command.

Introduction

In recent years, the U.S. Navy’s unmanned vehicles have achieved a number of game-changing “firsts.” The X-47B Unmanned Combat Air System (UCAS) executed the first carrier launch and recovery in 2013, first combined manned/unmanned carrier operations in 2014, and first aerial refueling in 2015.1 In 2014, the Office of Naval Research demonstrated the first swarm capability for Unmanned Surface Vehicles (USV).2 In 2015, the NORTH DAKOTA performed the first launch and recovery of an Unmanned Underwater Vehicle (UUV) from a submarine during an operational mission.3 While these successes may represent the vanguard of a revolution in military technology, the larger revolution in military affairs will only be possible with the optimization of the command and control concepts associated with these systems. Regardless of specific mode (air, surface, or undersea), Navy leaders must fully embrace mission command to fully realize the power of these capabilities.

Unmanned History

“Unmanned” systems are not necessarily new. The U.S. Navy’s long history includes the employment of a variety of such platforms. For example, in 1919, Coast Battleship #4 (formerly USS IOWA (BB-1)) became the first radio-controlled target ship to be used in a fleet exercise.4 During World War II, participation in an early unmanned aircraft program called PROJECT ANVIL ultimately killed Navy Lieutenant Joe Kennedy (John F. Kennedy’s older brother), who was to parachute from his bomb-laden aircraft before it would be guided into a German target by radio-control.5 In 1946, F6F Hellcat fighters were modified for remote operation and employed to collect data during the OPERATION CROSSROADS atomic bomb tests at Bikini.6 These Hellcat “drones” could be controlled by another aircraft acting as the “queen” (flying up to 30 miles away). These drones were even launched from the deck of an aircraft carrier (almost 70 years before the X-47B performed that feat).

A Hellcat drone takes flight. Original caption: PILOTLESS HELLCAT (above), catapulted from USS Shangri-La, is clear of the carrier’s bow and climbs rapidly. Drones like this one will fly through the atomic cloud. (All Hands Magazine June 1946 issue)

However, the Navy’s achievements over the last few years were groundbreaking because the platforms were autonomous (i.e. controlled by machine, not remotely operated by a person). The current discussion of autonomy frequently revolves around the issues of ethics and accountability. Is it ethical to imbue these machines with the authority to use lethal force? If the machine is not under direct human control but rather evaluating for itself, who is responsible for its decisions and actions when faced with dilemmas? Much has been written about these topics, but there is a related and less discussed question: what sort of mindset shift will be required for Navy leaders to employ these systems to their full potential?

Command, Control, and Unmanned Systems

According to Naval Doctrine Publication 6 – Command and Control (NDP 6), “a commander commands by deciding what must be done and exercising leadership to inspire subordinates toward a common goal; he controls by monitoring and influencing the action required to accomplish what must be done.”7 These enduring concepts have new implications in the realm of unmanned systems. For example, while a commander can assign tasks to any subordinate (human or machine), “inspiring subordinates” has varying levels of applicability based on whether his units consist of “remotely piloted” aircraft (where his subordinates are actual human pilots) or autonomous systems (where the “pilot” is an algorithm controlling a machine). “Command” also includes establishing intent, distributing guidance on allocation of roles, responsibilities, and resources, and defining constraints on actions.8 On one hand, this could be straightforward with autonomous systems as this guidance could be translated into a series of rules and parameters that define the mission and rules of engagement. One would simply upload the mission and deploy the vehicle, which would go out and execute, possibly reporting in for updates but mostly operating on its own, solving problems along the way. On the other hand, in the absence of instructions that cover every possibility, an autonomous system is only as good as the internal algorithms that control it. Even as machine learning drastically improves and advanced algorithms are developed from extensive “training data,” an autonomous system may not respond to novel and ambiguous situations with the same judgment as a human. Indeed, one can imagine a catastrophic military counterpart to the 2010 stock market “flash crash,” where high-frequency trading algorithms designed to act in accordance with certain, pre-arranged criteria did not understand context and misread the situation, briefly erasing $1 trillion in market value.9

“Control” includes the conduits and feedback from subordinates to their commander that allow them to determine if events are on track or to adjust instructions as necessary. This is reasonably straightforward for a remotely piloted aircraft with a constant data link between platform and operator, such as the ScanEagle or MQ-8 Fire Scout unmanned aerial systems. However, a fully autonomous system may not be in positive communication. Even if it is ostensibly intended to remain in communication, feedback to the commander could be limited or non-existent due to emissions control (EMCON) posture or a contested electromagnetic (EM) spectrum. 

Mission Command and Unmanned Systems

In recent years, there has been a renewed focus across the Joint Force on the concept of “mission command.” Mission command is defined as “the conduct of military operations through decentralized execution based upon mission-type orders,” and it lends itself well to the employment of autonomous systems.10 Joint doctrine states:

“Mission command is built on subordinate leaders at all echelons who exercise disciplined initiative and act aggressively and independently to accomplish the mission. Mission-type orders focus on the purpose of the operation rather than details of how to perform assigned tasks. Commanders delegate decisions to subordinates wherever possible, which minimizes detailed control and empowers subordinates’ initiative to make decisions based on the commander’s guidance rather than constant communications.”11

Mission command for an autonomous system would require commanders to clearly confer their intent, objectives, constraints, and restraints in succinct instructions, and then rely on the “initiative” of said system. While this decentralized arrangement is more flexible and better suited to deal with ambiguity, it opens the door to unexpected or emergent behavior in the autonomous system. (Then again, emergent behavior is not confined to algorithms, as humans may perform in unexpected ways too.) 

In addition to passing feedback and information up the chain of command to build a shared understanding of the situation, mission command also emphasizes horizontal flow across the echelon between the subordinates. Since it relies on subordinates knowing the intent and mission requirements, mission command is much less vulnerable to disruption than detailed means of command and control.

However, some commanders today do not fully embrace mission command with human subordinates, much less feel comfortable delegating trust to autonomous systems.  They issue explicit instructions to subordinates in a highly-centralized arrangement, where volumes of information flow up and detailed orders flow down the chain of command. This may be acceptable in deliberate situations where time is not a major concern, where procedural compliance is emphasized, or where there can be no ambiguity or margin for error. Examples of unmanned systems suitable to this arrangement include a bomb disposal robot or remotely piloted aircraft that requires constant intervention and re-tasking, possibly for rapid repositioning of the platform for a better look at an emerging situation or better discrimination between friend and foe. However, this detailed control does not “function well when the vertical flow of information is disrupted.”12 Furthermore, when it comes to autonomous systems, such detailed control will undermine much of the purpose of having an autonomous system in the first place.

A fundamental task of the commander is to recognize which situations call for detailed control or mission command and act appropriately. Unfortunately, the experience gained by many commanders over the last decade has introduced a bias towards detailed control, which will hamstring the potential capabilities of autonomous systems if this tendency is not overcome.

Current Practice

The American military has enjoyed major advantages in recent conflicts due to global connectivity and continuous communications. However, this has redefined expectations and higher echelons increasingly rely on detailed control (for manned forces, let alone unmanned ones). Senior commanders (or their staffs) may levy demands to feed a seemingly insatiable thirst for information. This has led to friction between the echelons of command, and in some cases this interaction occurs at the expense of the decision-making capability of the unit in the field. Subordinate staff watch officers may spend more time answering requests for information and “feeding the beast” of higher headquarters than they spend overseeing their own operations.

It is understandable why this situation exists today. The senior commander (with whom responsibility ultimately resides) expects to be kept well-informed. To be fair, in some cases a senior commander located at a fusion center far from the front may have access to multiple streams of information, giving them a better overall view of what is going on than the commander actually on the ground. In other cases, it is today’s 24-hour news cycle and zero tolerance for mistakes that have led senior commanders to succumb to the temptation to second-guess their subordinates and micromanage their units in the field. A compounding factor that may be influencing commanders in today’s interconnected world is “Fear of Missing Out” (FoMO), which is described by psychologists as apprehension or anxiety stemming from the availability of volumes of information about what others are doing (think social media). It leads to a strong, almost compulsive desire to stay continually connected.  13

Whatever the reason, this is not a new phenomenon. Understanding previous episodes when leadership has “tightened the reins” and the subsequent impacts is key to developing a path forward to fully leverage the potential of autonomous systems.

Veering Off Course

The recent shift of preference away from mission command toward detailed control appears to echo the impacts of previous advances in the technology employed for command and control in general. For example, when speaking of his service with the U.S. Asiatic Squadron and the introduction of the telegraph before the turn of the 20th century, Rear Admiral Caspar Goodrich lamented “Before the submarine cable was laid, one was really somebody out there, but afterwards one simply became a damned errand boy at the end of a telegraph wire.”14

Later, the impact of wireless telegraphy proved to be a mixed blessing for commanders at sea. Interestingly, the contrasting points of view clearly described how it would enable micromanagement; the difference in opinion was whether this was good or bad. This was illustrated by two 1908 newspaper articles regarding the introduction of wireless in the Royal Navy. One article extolled its virtues, describing how the First Sea Lord in London could direct all fleet activities “as if they were maneuvering beneath his office windows.”15 The other article described how those same naval officers feared “armchair control… by means of wireless.”16 In century-old text that could be drawn from today’s press, the article quoted a Royal Navy officer:

“The paramount necessity in the next naval war will be rapidity of thought and of execution…The innovation is causing more than a little misgiving among naval officers afloat. So far as it will facilitate the interchange of information and the sending of important news, the erection of the [wireless] station is welcomed, but there is a strong fear that advantage will be taken of it to interfere with the independent action of fleet commanders in the event of war.”

Military historian Martin van Creveld related a more recent lesson of technology-enabled micromanagement from the U.S. Army. This time the technology in question was the helicopter, and its widespread use by multiple echelons of command during Viet Nam drove the shift away from mission command to detailed control:

“A hapless company commander engaged in a firefight on the ground was subjected to direct observation by the battalion commander circling above, who was in turn supervised by the brigade commander circling a thousand or so feet higher up, who in his turn was monitored by the division commander in the next highest chopper, who might even be so unlucky as to have his own performance watched by the Field Force (corps) commander. With each of these commanders asking the men on the ground to tune in his frequency and explain the situation, a heavy demand for information was generated that could and did interfere with the troops’ ability to operate effectively.”17

However, not all historic shifts toward detailed control are due to technology; some are cultural. For example, leadership had encroached so much on the authority of commanders in the days leading up to World War II that Admiral King had to issue a message to the fleet with the subject line “Exercise of Command – Excess of Detail in Orders and Instructions,” where he voiced his concern. He wrote that the:

“almost standard practice – of flag officers and other group commanders to issue orders and instructions in which their subordinates are told how as well as what to do to such an extent and in such detail that the Custom of the service has virtually become the antithesis of that essential element of command – initiative of the subordinate.”18

Admiral King attributed this trend to several cultural reasons, including anxiety of seniors that any mistake of a subordinate be attributed to the senior and thereby jeopardize promotion, activities of staffs infringing on lower echelon functions, and the habit and expectation of detailed instructions from junior and senior alike. He went on to say that they were preparing for war, when there would be neither time nor opportunity for this method of control, and this was conditioning subordinate commanders to rely on explicit guidance and depriving them from learning how to exercise initiative. Now, over 70 years later, as the Navy moves forward with autonomous systems the technology-enabled and culture-driven drift towards detailed control is again becoming an Achilles heel.

Read Part 2 here.

Tim McGeehan is a U.S. Navy Officer currently serving in Washington. 

The ideas presented are those of the author alone and do not reflect the views of the Department of the Navy or Department of Defense.

References

[1] Northrup Grumman, X-47B Capabilities, 2015, http://www.northropgrumman.com/Capabilities/x47bucas/Pages/default.aspx

[2] David Smalley, The Future Is Now: Navy’s Autonomous Swarmboats Can Overwhelm Adversaries, ONR Press Release, October 5, 2014, http://www.onr.navy.mil/en/Media-Center/Press-Releases/2014/autonomous-swarm-boat-unmanned-caracas.aspx

[3] Associated Press, Submarine launches undersea drone in a 1st for Navy, Military Times, July 20, 2015, http://www.militarytimes.com/story/military/tech/2015/07/20/submarine-launches-undersea-drone-in-a-1st-for-navy/30442323/

[4] Naval History and Heritage Command, Iowa II (BB-1), July 22, 2015, http://www.history.navy.mil/research/histories/ship-histories/danfs/i/iowa-ii.html

[5] Trevor Jeremy, LT Joe Kennedy, Norfolk and Suffolk Aviation Museum, 2015, http://www.aviationmuseum.net/JoeKennedy.htm

[6] Puppet Planes, All Hands, June 1946, http://www.navy.mil/ah_online/archpdf/ah194606.pdf, p. 2-5

[7] Naval Doctrine Publication 6:  Naval Command and Control, 1995, http://www.dtic.mil/dtic/tr/fulltext/u2/a304321.pdf, p. 6

[8] David Alberts and Richard Hayes, Understanding Command and Control, 2006, http://www.dodccrp.org/files/Alberts_UC2.pdf, p. 58

[9] Ben Rooney, Trading program sparked May ‘flash crash’, October 1, 2010, CNN, http://money.cnn.com/2010/10/01/markets/SEC_CFTC_flash_crash/

[10] DoD Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms, March, 2017, http://www.dtic.mil/doctrine/new_pubs/jp1_02.pdf

[11] Joint Publication 3-0, Joint Operations, http://www.dtic.mil/doctrine/new_pubs/jp3_0.pdf

[12] Ibid

[13] Andrew Przybylski, Kou Murayama, Cody DeHaan , and Valerie Gladwell, Motivational, emotional, and behavioral correlates of fear of missing out, Computers in Human Behavior, Vol 29 (4), July 2013,  http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0747563213000800

[14] Michael Palmer, Command at Sea:  Naval Command and Control since the Sixteenth Century, 2005, p. 215

[15] W. T. Stead, Wireless Wonders at the Admiralty, Dawson Daily News, September 13, 1908, https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=41&dat=19080913&id=y8cjAAAAIBAJ&sjid=KCcDAAAAIBAJ&pg=3703,1570909&hl=en

[16] Fleet Commanders Fear Armchair Control During War by Means of Wireless, Boston Evening Transcript, May 2, 1908, https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=2249&dat=19080502&id=N3Y-AAAAIBAJ&sjid=nVkMAAAAIBAJ&pg=470,293709&hl=en

[17] Martin van Creveld, Command in War, 1985, p. 256-257.

[18] CINCLANT Serial (053), Exercise of Command – Excess of Detail in Orders and Instructions, January 21, 1941

Featured Image: An X-47B drone prepares to take off. (U.S. Navy photo)

Capability Analysis, Drones, Tactical Concepts

Trusting Autonomous Systems: It’s More Than Technology

3 Comments

By CDR Greg Smith

How will naval aviation employ unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) in the future? The answer is, of course, “it depends.” It depends on technology, on the economy and budgets, on whether we are at war or peace, and on leadership. It also depends on less interesting things like how squadrons and air wings are organized. Given the rapid advances in unmanned systems technology and the success of unmanned platforms like Predator and BAMS-D,[1] UAVs will certainly proliferate and significantly impact the future of naval aviation. If properly integrated, future manned-unmanned teams could deliver exponential increases in combat power, but integration of unmanned aircraft requires a level of trust in autonomous systems that does not yet exist in naval aviation. Building trust will require technical improvements that increase the “trustworthiness” of UAVs, but it will also require naval aviation to establish organizations that enhance trust in UAVs with the goal of fully integrating them into the fight. Indeed, organization will likely be the limiting factor with regard to the pace of integrating trusted UAVs. Therefore, naval aviation should consider the impact organization will have on the ability of aviators to trust UAVs and balance this among the competing requirements for introducing new unmanned platforms.

The Issue is Trust

Although naval aviators are perceived as natural risk-takers, they are trained to take no unnecessary risk and to mitigate risk throughout every evolution. Therefore, UAV integration will occur only when aviators trust UAVs to the same extent that they trust another aviator flying in close proximity as part of a strike package or during coordinated antisubmarine warfare sorties today. 

The proliferation and success of UAVs in the past decade belies the fact that aviators still do not trust them. The vast majority of unmanned aircraft continue to fly only scheduled sorties in pre-established air space in order to ensure separation from manned aircraft. In addition, naval aviators operate with an abundance of caution around UAVs. Aircrews are briefed on planned UAV routes and orbits prior to a mission and routinely deviate from airspace assignments or coordinate new air space in flight to ensure safe separation from UAVs. Being notified that an operator has lost communications with a nearby UAV (i.e. it is autonomously executing a pre-programmed reacquisition profile) assists manned aircraft, but it also raises the hair on the back of an aviator’s neck. In the terminal area it becomes necessary to fly closer to UAVs, which is accomplished safely with the assistance of ground air traffic controllers. Still, as with any congestion, the threat to manned aircraft increases, especially in expeditionary locations. After several, near mid-air collisions with UAVs in 2010, one task force commander grounded his manned aircraft at a remote operating location until he was assured that the local control tower and UAV operators, who were physically located half-way around the world, would improve procedural compliance. Anecdotes like these abound, demonstrating both the adaptability and skepticism of aviators flying near UAVs. After nearly a decade of sharing the sky with UAVs, most naval aviators no longer believe that UAVs are trying to kill them, but one should not confuse this sentiment with trusting the platform, technology, or operators. 

Building trust in autonomous systems should be a goal of those who will design the UAVs of the future as well as those who will employ them in the Fleet, because establishing trust in autonomous systems may be the tipping point that will unleash the revolutionary combat potential of UAVs. Naval aviation could fully integrate trusted UAVs into every mission area of every community. Unmanned tankers, wingmen (wingbots?), jammers, decoys, missile trucks, minesweepers, and communications relays could be launched from the decks of aircraft carriers, destroyers, support ships, from bases ashore, or from aircraft cargo bays, wing pylons and bomb bay stations in the coming decades, truly revolutionizing naval aviation. However, lack of trust is a critical obstacle which must be overcome before such a proliferation of UAVs can occur.

There are several technological improvements that can contribute to trust by enhancing situational awareness and the safety of both manned and unmanned platforms.  Improvements in see-and-avoid technology are needed to assist UAV operators when the UAV is flying in proximity of manned platforms. UAV command and control architectures and traffic collision avoidance systems (TCAS), as well as radars and data links, require improved reliability, security, and flexibility to ensure survivability in an anti-access environment or in the face of cyber or space attacks. Systems that provide manned platforms with increased situational awareness regarding the location of UAVs and the intended flight profile would also enhance trustworthiness. Today, the vast majority of naval aviation is not comfortable sharing an altitude block with a UAV in day, visual meteorological conditions (VMC), much less during war at sea in an anti-access environment. Technological improvements that make UAVs more trustworthy are necessary but not sufficient for establishing trust between an aviator and a machine. Sufficient trust will also require training, mission experience, and technical understanding of the system. 

Organization Matters

Given the technological enhancements described above, it is not a stretch to imagine a manned F-35 establishing a CAP station with a UAV wingman, or a P-8 crew employing UAVs or unmanned undersea vehicles (UUVs) to search for a submarine, or an E-2D using a UAV to extend the range of its radar or data link, or an EA-18G commanding a UAV to jam air defenses or deliver an electromagnetic pulse. There remain challenges to fielding these capabilities, but the technology will soon exist to safely integrate UAVs into these naval aviation missions and many more.  This level of integration raises numerous questions about UAV organizations and their personnel. 

Who would be responsible for the success, failure, and safety of the missions? Would each community operate UAVs that support its mission or would a UAV community operate all UAVs performing the full spectrum of naval aviation missions? How would a UAV operator develop the expertise to execute complex tactical tasks in close coordination with manned platforms? What tactical and technical training will be required to integrate UAVs in this manner? How are the skills of pilots and UAV operators similar? How are they different? What portions of the unmanned sorties are accomplished autonomously and which require a link with a UAV operator? From where will UAVs launch and recover? From where will they be controlled and who will control them?

The answers to these questions depend on how squadrons of the future will be organized to command, operate and maintain the UAVs. In turn, each organizational model significantly influences the amount of additional training, coordination, and experience required to achieve the trust necessary to fully integrate UAVs. Consider the issue of who controls the UAVs.  Some options include: control by the pilot of a manned aircraft themself; control by another aviator in the same aircraft or section; control by an aviator from the same naval aviation community outside the section; control by a UAV operator from a UAV community — aboard ship, ashore, or airborne; and fully autonomous operation.  The amount of trust required to execute complex missions in close proximity to UAVs is the same regardless of how the UAV is controlled, but the amount of trust inherent in each scenario varies greatly.   Decisions about these elements will significantly influence how quickly aviators will be able to trust, and therefore integrate, UAVs. As technology overcomes the challenges posed by the various capabilities implied above, organizational structures will determine how quickly UAVs can be integrated into the fight.

Beyond U-CLASS

Naval aviation’s plans for its next UAV, the Unmanned Carrier Launched Airborne Surveillance System (U-CLASS), will prudently focus on ensuring the safe introduction of a novel platform in a budget constrained environment. Yet, looking beyond U-CLASS, there is the potential for naval aviation to exponentially increase its combat effectiveness by integrating UAVs in every mission area. Technological innovation is necessary to make UAVs more trustworthy, but naval aviation should also understand how organization will facilitate or impede the integration of trusted UAVs. The optimal structure of future UAV units will maximize trust between manned and unmanned platforms and allow for innovation and growth in integration. 

Commander Smith is a Naval Flight Officer and the former Commanding Officer of VP-26.  These are his views and do not reflect the views of the United States Navy.

This article featured as a part of CIMSEC’s September 2015 topic week, The Future of Naval Aviation. You can access the topic week’s articles here.