Imagine the following scenario:

The pilot officer was concerned that, in just 60 seconds, he had lost 50% of his drone swarm platforms. Although the communicative integrity of the swarm was still intact, this loss rate was unsustainable for more than another minute or two. The AI-command system recommended two courses of action:

1. Continue, in order to absorb the potentially limited fires available to the enemy; or

2. Break left and hug the ground to ensure as many of the drones survived as possible at a very low altitude. The AI had calculated that losses due to obstacles would be in the region of 10.5% against the ‘sure thing’ loss of around 89% at the present bearing and speeds.

The human operator did not hesitate, but put the swarm into a ground-hugging mode. Ground fires inflicted more attrition, but the swarm’s remnants passed through the kill zone and headed rapidly towards their target field. At the pre-appointed junction, the swarm split into individual elements and dived onto an array of enemy platforms – dismounted troops, vehicles, a supply ship, a drone container vehicle, and, ironically, an air defence battery.

Meanwhile, a few miles away, a Royal Navy warship was releasing its second wave of drone swarms – a cloud of around 2,000 miniature platforms – while simultaneously shooting down incoming missiles and implementing its deception measures; an Electronic Warfare (EW)-chromatic interference ‘shield’ which made it seem that the vessel was several hundred metres north of its actual location. Several hostile missiles plunged harmlessly into the sea, and AI-enabled Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (ISR) assets, high above the ship, reported the grid was once again ‘green’, at least for the next three minutes.

Into this window of opportunity, the commander could assess the threat, and use his AI array to scan for additional targets, including the source of the incoming missiles. AI had already tracked the trajectory and worked back along the flight path to discern the likely launch points, even for moving platforms. Identified, the AI agent ‘goalkeeper’ reported that there were no innocent elements within the kill zone.

As a result, it had not waited for any human intervention – it was pre-programmed to destroy any threats where the targeting was unambiguous. The commander, relieved that the Self-Defence (SD) system was functioning as expected, was free to search for targets in greater depth.

Heading into view were four autonomous maritime supply pods, nicknamed ‘whales’ by the six-strong crew of the warship. They were initiated automatically when weapon stocks on board reached a certain level. The AI calculated water, munitions, rations, fuel, and all manner of crew needs on a real-time basis, and dispatched a steady loop of uncrewed and fast-moving boats to conduct automated resupply and reloading at sea. A large air drone touched down on the rear deck too, with a specific air defence payload that was needed more urgently.

The commander reflected that in 1842, his ancestors had also defeated the Chinese navy. The technological edge of the Royal Navy then, as now, had been the single most important factor in the United Kingdom’s (UK) latest naval victory.

How does AI impact combat in the 2020s and 2030s, and how should the British Armed Forces train for it as an ‘in contact’ phenomenon?

Advancements in AI will reshape almost every aspect of war, and the British Armed Forces will have to learn how to adapt ‘in contact’ as well as preparing for the potential ‘first contact’ between AI systems. Today, AI is already embedded within smart sensors and some autonomous platforms, but in the near future, AI will drive weapon systems; enhance real-time decision-making; govern logistics; conduct defensive and offensive cyber-operations; and offer augmentation to personnel in terms of situational awareness, nearby weapons, and counter-targeting. What follows are eight applications for ‘in contact’ consideration.

Application 1: Autonomous weapon systems

AI-guided loitering munitions and swarming drones will execute precision strikes with minimal human input at the outbreak of war, but within weeks, fully independent sensor-shooter areas will be created – initially geographically prescribed and then increasingly as thematic matters, such as counter-ambush defence.

Uncrewed ground and maritime vehicles will navigate complex terrain or very long distances at sea, using satellite or loitering Uncrewed Aerial Vehicle (UAV) precision, navigation, and timing. They will identify threats and engage adversaries under AI control. After initial exchanges, rapid adaptation will be required to overcome physical obstacles, electronic counter-measures, and adjustments to their sensing and shooting capabilities. An evolution of systems will require agile engineering development, rapid experimentation, and equally speedy deployment.

Machine learning models will continuously refine targeting accuracy, reducing collateral damage and reaction times, and human operators will need to utilise a generic training model and then adapt to new systems rapidly, adding to the feedback loop between targeting; countering deception measures; assessing payload effects and damage assessment; and the speed of delivery.

Application 2: Enhanced ISR

AI will fuse data from satellites, signals intercepts, UAVs and ground sensors into unified battlespace pictures almost instantaneously. In contact, some systems will quickly become redundant. On the whole, visibility and slowness will be the death knell of certain systems. Personnel will have to become used to acting in dispersed environments, with mutually supporting area denial assets – as independent call signs – using AI to enable their survival against detection and their flow of munitions and logistics.

Computer vision and deep-learning algorithms will highlight enemy movements, concealed assets and their logistic hubs in real time, enabling deep strike capabilities as well as tactical actions.

Quantum-accelerated processing on AI-enabled drones promises near-instant analysis of vast sensor streams, vastly outpacing current systems, while AI will filter data into meaningful targets and prioritise them in terms of engagement and payloads. Human training will need to prepare for this ISR environment, knowing when to intervene and when to permit AI to discern and strike. Speed will be of the essence.

Application 3: Decision-making and Command and Control (C2)

Agentic AI ‘assistants’ in command posts, or on the bridge of a combat vessel, will generate courses of action, run multi-domain simulations, and help commanders weigh risks and opportunities. Predictive analytics will anticipate adversary manoeuvres hours and even days in advance, enabling proactive posture adjustments. This will be vital when the UK’s own platforms are more limited in number, and losses have been taken.

AI-driven ‘digital twins’ of theatres of operation will allow leaders to rehearse scenarios and optimise force deployment before committing troops, in a form of real-time wargaming.

Application 4: Cyber EW and combat communications

Defensive AI will detect and block sophisticated intrusions by discerning anomalous network patterns faster than human analysts, while offensive AI tools will autonomously probe adversary networks, craft bespoke malware, and conduct denial-of-service campaigns with adaptive strategies in great depth.

AI agents will constantly search vast data fields for anomalies and ‘giveaways’, update the deployed ‘field AIs’, and locate opportunities. Electromagnetic Spectrum (EMS) management AI can dynamically jam or deceive enemy radars and communications while preserving friendly links, hopping channels and bursting communications in miniaturised but dense packets.

Application 5: Logistics, maintenance, and supply

AI will predict equipment failures via pre-installed sensor-derived prognostics, scheduling maintenance just before most breakdowns occur and thereby maximising readiness and reducing repair burdens. However, battlespace damage will be discerned rapidly using onboard sensors, and component parts scanned to see if systems can be rendered operative and battle-ready, or whether they are fit only for cannibalisation.

Autonomous convoys or dispersed individual Uncrewed Maritime Systems (UMS) guided by AI pathfinding will reduce exposure of supply lines to surprise attack and air threat. Machine-learning optimisers will balance fuel, munitions, stores, water, and rations distribution across dispersed units for leaner support chains.

Application 6: Personnel augmentation and medical support

Embedded AI in helmets, Heads Out Displays (HODs), and exoskeletons will offer real-time hazard alerts, target acquisition cues, and load-carriage assistance. Wearable biosensors feeding AI models will monitor combat stress and health, triggering medical evacuation (medevac) or rest cycles when vital signs indicate risk. Haptics will offer warnings of threats, and in-built alarms will warn personnel when resting of inbound threats. Robotic combat medics will traverse contested terrain to administer basic life-saving care under AI guidance, while serious cases will benefit from rear area senior professional medical operatives via Virtual Reality (VR) headsets.

Application 7: ‘In contact’ adaptation lessons process and planning

AI will review situations and effects in real time, and feed back to those in contact on what has been discerned in enemy patterns of behaviour. AI-driven simulations will conduct mission rehearsals in vast multi-domain conflicts, drawing on real-time data to stress test plans and doctrines, identify the most likely options to succeed and brief command teams on the options available.

Application 8: Ethical and legal focus

The acceleration of operational tempo by AI can allow human decision-makers to concentrate on the handful of cases where there is legal ethical ambiguity before a target can be engaged. This will not apply to unambiguous weapons-free kill zones.

Conclusion

By 2030, AI will span the full spectrum of warfare, from operations to tactical autonomy and decision support. Mastering the integration of AI will generate a tactical and operational edge. British personnel must ‘learn to learn’, focusing on adaptability in contact rather than trying to learn traditional ‘content’.

The ability to adapt to a changing and often deteriorating battlespace, where attrition and supply are major challenges, will be essential. Human operators will face the same conventional pressures of morale, cohesion, and casualty support, but their role will be greatly enhanced by the AI enablement of autonomous systems, ISR, C2 communications, cyber EMS operations, logistics and repair, personnel support, real-time combat learning, and the moral dimension.

Dr Robert Johnson is Director of the Oxford Strategy, Statecraft, and Technology (Changing Character of War) Centre and an Honorary Fellow at the Council on Geostrategy. He is also a Senior Research Fellow at Pembroke College, University of Oxford, and a Professor at the Norwegian Defence University Staff College. Prior to this, he was the first Director of the Office of Net Assessment and Challenge in the Ministry of Defence.

This article is published in partnership with Capita Plc.

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The British Armed Forces’ ability to deliver precision fires and effects is being brought under the integration of all domains, sensors, assets, and weapon systems for rapid decision-making and execution of operations. This new battlespace requirement carries significant new training objectives for the use of Artificial Intelligence (AI)-enabled systems.

Training objective 1: Inculcate cooperation

The first training objective, therefore, of the approach to operational design is cooperation. The ‘tribal’ loyalties of the British Armed Forces have their place in creating identity, and thereby foster cohesion under conditions of great stress. However, in the modern battlespace, there is no room for service or ‘cap badge’ preferences. Every asset, every platform, and every call sign must focus entirely on the mission. Misplaced loyalty to an organisation could cost time and lives.

Training objective 2: Knowledge of friendly forces and the enemy

In the conditions of all-domain operations, where time is limited, it is vital that personnel intimately know the platforms and capabilities of their own forces, their allies, and their adversaries. Failure to recognise and differentiate the units of the enemy (which will be trying to conceal themselves, their movements, and their intentions), to spot anomalies, and to know what capabilities allied forces possess could cost the British Armed Forces dearly. Knowledge of these elements gives significant operational advantage.

Training objective 3: Prepare personnel for AI-enabled targeting and the application of the Law of Armed Conflict (LOAC)

It is clear that the British Armed Forces need to be able to integrate AI into targeting workflows. AI has proven its value in Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance (ISR) data processing, decision support, and the operation of autonomous, uncrewed systems. The bringing together of assets for a task is exemplified in experiments such as the use of the ‘uber platform’ to request assets, see how far away they are (and therefore what timings are available), and to know when they have been delivered. Battle Damage Assessment (BDA) is a component that can be fed into the same system, ready for further tasking onto the target if necessary.

AI only provides the options and selections of targets. For the near term, human operators and commanders will need to decide when to release lethal ordnance. However, in the event of a major war against Russia, Iran, or the People’s Republic of China (PRC), it is unlikely that peacetime rules of engagement will survive contact for long. The pattern of past major wars suggests that, at best, the most egregious levels of destruction could be minimised, but recent armed conflicts in Ukraine and the Middle East suggest that unrestrained and less discriminate targeting will occur in a dynamic, escalating situation.

Training objective 4: Training for learning to adapt under time pressure

Time is the most limited resource in war, and AI enhancements to the targeting process mean that survival will depend on the ability to act, react, and adapt faster than adversaries. Instead of content-learning, AI-enabled war suggests that British personnel should train for adaptation. They should focus on how to learn new things, the skills of adaptation, and rehearse with speed tests and improvisation. AI enables scaling; to cascade effects, the processing of much larger volumes of data to give a wider field of view, and acceleration in decision-making.

Training objective 5: Decisions and leadership of AI-enabled teams

Leaders require training in the handling of AI agents in the battlespace, and of the human teams which support the execution of operations. One of the critical aspects of AI-enabled conflict is that senior commanders will need to devolve tasking to junior levels because of the speed of operations and the sheer scale of the battlespace. Strategic assets will come under their direct command in rear zones (homeland defence will be the direct responsibility of national governments and their military commanders), while forward-deployed elements will be autonomous.

For senior commanders, the greatest challenge will be feeding assets, primarily munitions, into the forward and deep battlespace. For junior commanders, there will be responsibility for much greater areas and volumes of resources than in the past. Training for this new requirement can build on older forms of Command and Control (C2), such as mission command, but will need to be rehearsed in simulations.

Some threats can be managed entirely by AI, where there is no ambiguity about the validity of the targeting. In some areas, such as dense urban areas populated by civilians or where maritime resources for neutral actors are concerned, greater targeting discernment will be necessary. By practising zooming into the AI-enabled detail, rapid decisions can be made and damage assessed while overall situational awareness is maintained.

Decision-makers will be able to rehearse on simulators, with AI offering immediate real-time feedback. With AI learning directly from each mission rehearsal, and by gradually increasing levels of difficulty and complexity, command teams can become more experienced in a variety of scenarios.

AI enablement will greatly assist in identifying the adversary, fixing and targeting it, offering engagement options, and assisting in the delivery of precision effects before making assessments of the effect. AI has the ability to learn from each of these tasks in action, and improve its data range and option fidelity with each encounter. This improves the assessment process, saving time and munitions as well as bringing greater clarity to the commander’s decision support. Moreover, this learning can be passed on and edited by training teams.

Training objective 6: Managing logistics of autonomous systems

Incorporating AI into the battlespace is about optimising the targeting, delivering effects rapidly with precision, and ensuring the continuous flow of assets to and from the battlespace to maintain operational tempo. In all domain operations, accelerating sensor-to-shooter kill chains, reducing the human operators’ cognitive burden, improving decision-making in a stressful environment, and making sure that the right resources arrive in good time in sufficient volume are critical. AI will seek the most efficient solutions, and can greatly assist in the delivery of combat supplies.

Like all AI, military AI requires the development of specialised agents to ensure that the practices and vocabulary specific to logistics in combat are understood. Simulations and large-scale exercises are vital for the training data needed, and all exercises and simulations require immediate deployment of AI tools for machine learning. In addition, instruction in the management of combat logistics using AI is essential.

Recommendations

It is recommended that all six training objectives are implemented immediately. The speed of AI development over the next five years suggests that an armed force unfamiliar with the use of AI in its battlespace management will fail. It is urgent that training is developed without delay in order to equip all personnel with the skills they will need in near-term conflicts.

Dr Robert Johnson is Director of the Oxford Strategy, Statecraft, and Technology (Changing Character of War) Centre and an Honorary Fellow at the Council on Geostrategy. He is also a Senior Research Fellow at Pembroke College, University of Oxford, and a Professor at the Norwegian Defence University Staff College. Prior to this, he was the first Director of the Office of Net Assessment and Challenge in the Ministry of Defence.

This article is published in partnership with Capita Plc.

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The vision of Gen. Sir Gwyn Jenkins, First Sea Lord and Chief of Naval Staff, of a New Hybrid Navy is central to the Royal Navy’s transformation to ‘warfighting readiness’. Integrating Artificial Intelligence (AI)-enabled and autonomous systems with conventional platforms – ‘uncrewed wherever possible; crewed only where necessary’ – will deliver a more lethal Integrated Force and strengthen homeland defence. This approach aims to restore competitive edge, as well as regenerate mass at pace and scale in a context of ageing platforms, and persistent recruitment and retention challenges.

This vision represents a necessary adaptation to contemporary warfare. Yet, as this concept shapes future force design, there is a risk that technology will drive strategy rather than enabling it. Building on the First Sea Lord’s speech at DSEI 2025, the success of the New Hybrid Navy and the Royal Navy’s combat readiness hinge on collaboration with industry and allies, which are essential to the planned transformation. However, cooperation also presents challenges and may create vulnerabilities, potentially limiting the Royal Navy’s ability to be fully prepared for war.

Fight tomorrow: The industry

The New Hybrid Navy presents a bold strategic direction aimed at regenerating mass and enhancing competitive advantage. However, claims that autonomy can restore mass effectively are challenged by the harsh realities of implementation. A high-low mix system continues to incur significant costs and makes industry a vital enabler, to the point that some have characterised it as the ‘sixth domain of war’.

Yet, British defence programmes frequently face delays and cost overruns, driven by under-resourced project teams, fragmented supply chains, complex integration requirements and unpredictable demand. Incentives rarely penalise delays, and structural reforms have yet to produce faster delivery times.

Likewise, while acceleration is often a stated priority, the United Kingdom (UK) lacks clear timelines for speeding procurement – underscoring a credibility gap between aspiration and executable plans. Testing and trials inevitably add time to the development of military programmes, and for autonomous and AI-enabled systems these processes are typically demanding, as trust in reliability and safe integration must be demonstrated rather than assumed. Against this backdrop, any assertion that autonomy will rapidly restore mass must be tempered: delivery depends on realistic timelines, coherent planning, sequenced decisions and sustained investment.

Wartime dynamics are likely to intensify these pressures. Britain’s production capacity is comparatively limited compared to rivals such as the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and Russia, which surpass the UK in scale and speed, and control essential resources for advanced systems. Britain’s limited direct access to critical materials creates strategic vulnerabilities for its industry, exposing it to geopolitical shocks and logistical disruptions.

Not only is the UK less competitive than its adversaries in peacetime, but reliance on these resources and supply chains could become even more problematic in wartime, potentially hindering Britain’s ability to deliver, repair and sustain advanced systems quickly. While this challenge is recognised, and steps are being taken to improve supply resilience and sovereignty through the Critical Minerals Strategy, its scope remains limited, and is unlikely to address the issue fully.

Furthermore, if the first challenge lies in the speed and scale at which industry can restore mass, the second is equally critical: even as autonomy promises to offset crew shortages, it does not eliminate the human factor. Autonomy is often viewed as a solution to the Royal Navy’s personnel shortages, which have persisted since the Cold War despite recent recruitment gains.

However, autonomy shifts demand highly specialised roles, such as engineers, cyber experts and systems integrators. These skills are scarce in both the British Armed Forces and industry. Without sufficient expertise to build, maintain and repair complex systems both at home and at sea, the New Hybrid Navy risks remaining aspirational rather than operational.

Fight tonight: The allies

The drive to fund the Royal Navy’s future force has led to the early retirement of several capabilities to ease budgetary pressure and address persistent crew shortages. While intended to protect long-term modernisation, this approach has created a vulnerable interim period in which existing capabilities are withdrawn well before replacement systems are available – a risk some argue undermines the Royal Navy’s ability to ‘fight tonight.’

This exposure is most evident in the decision to reduce amphibious lift and afloat support ahead of the delivery of the Multi-Role Support Ships (MRSS) in the early 2030s. Until those vessels enter service, the Royal Navy faces diminished secure access, sustainment, repair and medical support at sea. Rather than a seamless transition, the MRSS programme illustrates how capability retirement has outpaced capability regeneration, leaving critical functions exposed during a decade of heightened strategic uncertainty.

Beyond the operational consequences, retiring platforms before their successors are fully developed sends an unfavourable political signal. In an era where deterrence depends on visible readiness, the resulting loss of availability introduces sovereignty risks at precisely the moment that they are most likely to be tested. It also weakens the UK’s ability to set tempo independently, increasing reliance on allies at a time when the ‘special relationship’ itself is under strain following shifts in American security strategy.

Relying on allies to cover near-term capability gaps is a risky strategy which undermines deterrence. Since this interim period is expected to last longer than initially planned, owing to procurement delays and uncertainties about industry’s capacity to deliver future capabilities, it risks becoming the ‘new normal’.

Deterrence depends on what can be deployed immediately, not on future promises. Therefore, transformation must also support short-term credibility. Without interim solutions and clear readiness plans, Britain risks sending the wrong political message and being unprepared for immediate threats.

The missing conversation: The British Army

Current conversations about warfighting readiness often under-emphasise a crucial element: operational cooperation across domains. While the Royal Navy and Royal Air Force (RAF) work together on Integrated Air and Missile Defence (IAMD) – a close cooperation expected to grow via the Future Air Dominance System – there appears to be limited focus on how maritime forces coordinate with land units.

Commandos are rightly praised for agility and forward deployment, yet their role in enabling the arrival, transfer and sustainment of larger British Army formations is rarely addressed. As the Royal Navy advances its transformation, the absence of a defined joint framework is notable.

The erosion of amphibious capability – most notably the early retirement of the Albion class landing platform docks without a timely replacement – has weakened the land-sea bridge and undermined assured access. Decisions framed as efficiency measures carry strategic consequences: without credible amphibious enablers and integrated planning, the UK’s ability to project, reinforce and sustain ground forces from the sea in contested environments is uncertain.

Recent conflicts underscore why this matters. Peer engagements can still be prolonged, attritional and personnel-intensive, straining logistics and command systems. In such scenarios, initial entry forces cannot operate alone; their purpose is to enable reinforcement and maintain momentum. Yet, readiness debates seldom consider how these transitions occur, or how maritime access connects to land endurance under persistent threat.

Discussions focus mainly on autonomy and future force structures, while interoperability and joint integration are under-emphasised in the Royal Navy’s warfighting readiness discourse. Although its main mission is at sea, the Royal Navy should also support the link to land operations, ensuring maritime forces can enable, sustain and support ground combat efforts over time. Overlooking this could restrict British options and reduce readiness in a period characterised by multi-domain operations.

Key takeaways

Although the Royal Navy recognises that its transformation extends beyond technology – emphasising cooperation with society, industry and allies as crucial to success – an optimistic bias still appears to prevail, potentially overlooking significant challenges which must be acknowledged and addressed to ensure warfighting readiness. Key factors include realistic industrial planning, protecting short-term capabilities and improving interoperability with other services.

This requires clear priorities: technology should support, not drive, transformation. Even if autonomy shapes future forces, people remain central. Sustained investment in human skills (e.g., specialised training, recruitment, retention and resilient skill pipelines in areas such as cyber warfare, systems integration and maritime repair) is essential.

Shore-based infrastructure – including dock access and maintenance and repair capacity – should also be prioritised as a core enabler of readiness, since availability issues have been associated with outdated and capacity-limited dockyard facilities. Industry partnerships, not just procurement, should be viewed as integral to warfighting readiness.

Industrial timelines, integration issues, and capacity constraints lead to short term vulnerabilities.The Royal Navy should balance operational credibility with long-term investments, which may take years to realise. Additionally, Army-Navy integration should be considered in shaping the Royal Navy’s future. Without a human-centred and realistic industrial approach, the New Hybrid Navy risks becoming technologically advanced but strategically fragile.

Dr Lucie Pebay holds a PhD in Politics and International Studies from the University of Bath, where her research examined the contemporary transformation of the French Army. She currently works within the Ministry of Defence for the Naval Staff as a Research and Business Manager, supporting and coordinating research designed to inform Royal Navy planning and decision-making.

The views expressed in this article are personal to the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of the Royal Navy.

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Shipping is integral to the global economy and supply chain security, with over 90% of global trade by volume moved by sea. Much of what makes shipping unique – its mobility, reach and flexibility – also makes it vulnerable to geopolitical risk and uncertainty. These include challenges introduced by the energy transition relating to supply and infrastructure, security and safety, regulatory uncertainty, and competition and contestation.

As the energy transition gains momentum, new fuels, technologies and emerging energy powers are reshaping the energy politics and risk landscape of tomorrow. This introduces both opportunity and risk, as shipping companies navigate yet another geopolitical shift on the path towards Net Zero. Governments will need to work closely with industry to stay ahead of the challenges, and to protect national interests and ensure national security.

Responsible for 3% of global greenhouse gas emissions, shipping is often described as a ‘hard-to-abate’ industry, highly dependent on energy-dense fuels. The fuel volumes required make the transition challenging, and alternatives vary in suitability. While there is no clear frontrunner in viable Net Zero fuels and no one way forward in industry, blend-in biofuels, hydrogen, methanol and ammonia have emerged as key contenders.

Despite regulatory uncertainty and setbacks, such as the postponement of a global Net Zero framework, the energy transition is gaining momentum. The most significant regulatory pressure comes from the European Union (EU), through the inclusion of shipping in the EU Emission Trading System and the FuelEU Maritime, both of which will influence global operators. On the infrastructure side, the Alternative Fuels Infrastructure Regulation (AFIR) requires EU ports to provide onshore power supply for vessels above certain thresholds.

The United Kingdom (UK) is moving towards greater alignment with these regulations, with shipping expected to be included in the Emissions Trading Scheme in 2026. While the energy transition in shipping promises environmental benefits, the industry will remain a net-negative contributor, with the aim to minimise harm through cutting emissions and improving efficiency.

The number of ships using alternative fuels is slowly increasing, but remains a small portion of the global fleet. For existing vessels, emissions reductions depend on energy efficiency measures, including retrofitting energy efficiency applications such as air lubrication systems, propellers and wind-assisted technologies. For newbuilds, many industry leaders are opting for dual-fuel or multi-use designs to future-proof their fleets. Initiatives to secure green fuels are also ongoing, with the United European Car Carriers’ (UECC) ‘Sail for Change’ serving as one example.

Green drop-in fuels – fuels which can be used in existing systems without major technical modifications – are already in use today, and may play a greater role as production scales over the next decade. However, electrification remains limited to short-sea shipping due to high costs, insufficient energy density and a lack of port charging infrastructure. This has left the industry searching for options which provide operational flexibility, have a minimal impact on performance and are compatible with existing engine systems.

Across all options, infrastructure will have to evolve with the direction of the energy transition to accommodate new protocols and facilities. New fuels do not fit into the old infrastructure built over decades to accommodate fossil fuels. Without massive new investment in infrastructure, from grids to ports to transport networks, the scaling of alternative fuels will remain in practice a limiting factor in the transition.

In the absence of a clear pathway, certainty and guidance, options gaining traction could pose significant safety risks. As shipowners face complexity and fuel producers hesitate without guaranteed demand, there is a tendency to justify impractical – or at times dangerous – options. Some fuels are simply too hazardous, costly or inefficient to scale in a responsible manner. Human error will remain a factor at sea for the foreseeable future, making an accident, sabotage or attack involving a toxic fuel, such as ammonia, devastating for both the crew and surrounding environment.

However, this is only half the story, as the energy transition also introduces significant geopolitical complexity. As the demand for energy shifts, states which control materials and production capacity will gain influence and introduce new power dynamics in the global maritime landscape. This was the case historically, when the transition from coal to oil turned the Middle East into a key strategic centre of global geopolitics by the mid-20th century.

Shipping routes will likely reconfigure around new strategically vital hubs and regions. Shipowners and operators might be exposed to pressure or coercion as nations seek to secure their positions in emerging supply chains, introducing yet another form of instability to an industry already facing rising uncertainty. Competition is likely to spill over into tension and route contestation as states seek to secure access to resources. New tensions will surface and protectionist tendencies will intensify.

The restructuring of energy geopolitics – following a decline in demand for oil-based fuels – as a result of the transition towards renewable and alternative fuels will have a significant impact on maritime trade and security. Emerging production centres and methods, combined with shifting energy geopolitics, will create new trade hubs, chokepoints and critical routes. This will see certain regions and ports equipped with green fuels and supporting infrastructure as critical enablers and strategic assets vulnerable to contestation. In the short term, supply chain vulnerabilities and risks of sabotage and disruption may increase.

In practice, trade routes are likely to reconfigure around the transport of fuels such as methanol and hydrogen, linking ‘renewable-rich’ regions in North Africa, South America and Australia with consumption and bunkering hubs in Europe and East Asia. New east-west and south-north corridors could emerge alongside increasing traffic through existing routes to reach hubs and bunkering ports. The demand for critical minerals will also intensify, reinforcing the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) strategic advantage in refining and processing.

The PRC has, in many ways, reached its ‘oil peak’, and is moving to free itself from oil, primarily to strengthen its geopolitical position. As a non- petrostate, its critical minerals represent what oil contributes to other powers. By rapidly electrifying transportation and scaling electric vehicle production, the PRC is reducing its dependence on imported oil and tightening its grip on critical mineral supply chains. Without further action on supply chain resilience, many countries will become even more reliant on importing critical minerals from the PRC – which utilises extraction techniques that, from a sustainability standpoint, are questionable.

As fuel supply and production diversify and decentralise, complexity and risk are introduced to the system by way of new stakeholders, routes, standards, production methods, safety requirements and protocols, hubs and new alliances. The maritime energy transport infrastructure is consequently emerging as a weak point.

First, threats to energy transport routes and energy transport such as Liquified Natural Gas (LNG) tankers are magnified by the lack of security measures and standards – especially in ports – compared to other industries. Second, alternative energy carriers introduce handling risks and exposure points. The high toxicity of options such as ammonia could make ships and port facilities more attractive targets.

As fossil-free energy transportation increases, so too does the risk of critical parts being targeted. Increased exposure to disruption, both accidental and intentional, will have implications for defence planning. Understanding how other countries are approaching the maritime energy transition is critical to anticipate risks in a future operating environment.

Effective multilateral coordination on standardisation, certification and transparency is needed to prevent the escalation of tensions and to support decarbonisation efforts. For industry, the debate could be simplified by taking a step back to identify ‘non-negotiables’. Any pathway or ‘solution’ should not introduce new risks (whether security or otherwise), and there should be scalability potential.

These factors raise several questions. Are the proposed pathways safe, scalable and truly sustainable? Should the jeopardisation of seafarers’ lives be accepted in the drive to reduce greenhouse gas emissions? These could eliminate many alternatives and reduce complexity for supply chain stakeholders, whether fuel producers, Original Equipment Manufacturers (OEMs) or shipowners.

Successfully navigating this transition will require strategic direction, clarity, coordinated investment and realistic assessments; none of which is possible without closer dialogue between governments and the shipping industry. While the route ahead is uncertain, the transition is already happening, and the challenge is to ensure that new risks or dependencies are not introduced in efforts to reduce shipping’s harmful impact on the environment.

Done incorrectly, the transition could intensify geopolitical tensions and put lives at risk. If managed well, it could reshape the global trade landscape in favour of resilience and sustainability.

Charlotte Kleberg is an Adjunct Fellow at the Council on Geostrategy and an Associate Fellow at the Royal Navy Strategic Studies Centre. She holds various project and board advisory roles in the Ro-Ro shipping sector through Wallenius Lines, Wallenius Marine and United European Car Carriers.

Elisabet Liljeblad, PhD is a climate and energy transition strategist with a background in physics and sustainability. She works as a sustainability specialist at Soya Group, owner of Wallenius, with her work combining scientific expertise with strategic analysis, particularly in areas linked to sustainability and systems change.

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Beginning in November 2023, the Houthi movement in Yemen launched a sustained and deliberate campaign of attacks against commercial and military vessels transiting the Red Sea – one of the world’s most vital maritime chokepoints. Despite the Houthi frequently being dismissed as a localised or ideologically motivated insurgent effort, these attacks have become strategically important, as they disrupt global commerce and compel continuous American and allied naval operations. Moreover, the attacks have also transformed the Red Sea into an active arena of great power competition between the United States (US) and the People’s Republic of China (PRC), in which the Houthis play the role of a proxy force advancing Chinese interests at minimal cost and plausible deniability.

By January 2025, the scope of the American response underscored the intensity of the campaign. At the annual Surface Navy Association conference, the US Navy disclosed that it had expended nearly 400 munitions over the previous 15 months while defending shipping from Iran-backed Houthi attacks. This included approximately 120 Standard Missile (SM)-2s, 80 SM-6s, 160 five-inch naval gun rounds, and roughly 20 Evolved Sea Sparrow missiles and SM-3s. Such extraordinary expenditure of high-end and expensive ordnance highlights the asymmetric cost exchange imposed on the US in carrying out one of its core missions: protecting freedom of navigation.

While the US is using millions of dollars’ worth of weapons, it is the PRC that stands to benefit from this dynamic. The Houthi attacks function as a Chinese proxy strategy which degrades US naval readiness, evaluates American responses to sustained missile and drone threats, and undermines US credibility as the guarantor of maritime security. This is bolstered by the fact that the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN) group was monitoring the action for a time.

The Red Sea and adjacent Suez Canal account for up to 12% of global trade, and remain indispensable arteries linking Europe and Asia. Persistent instability in this corridor directly challenges the foundations of American-led maritime order, as well as threatening the global economy.

The Houthis themselves are not a primitive insurgent force. Since 2011, they have seized control of much of northern Yemen, including Sanaa, the Yemeni capital. With extensive backing from Iran and Hezbollah, the Lebanese paramilitary group, the Houthis have developed increasingly sophisticated military capabilities, particularly in the maritime domain. Their arsenal includes long-range ballistic missiles, cruise missiles, armed drones, naval mines, and anti-ship systems such as the Toufan ballistic missile (with a range of roughly 1,900 kilometres [km]), Quds-2 cruise missiles (up to 2,000km) and Samad-series drones with comparable reach. These capabilities allow them to threaten international shipping far beyond Yemen’s immediate coastline.

While the Houthis publicly frame their campaign as retaliation against Israel and its supporters, and resistance to American-British military actions, the strategic effects extend well beyond these stated motives. Even as the tempo of attacks declined from their 2024 peak, the threat persists, forcing sustained naval deployments and continued expenditure of scarce defensive munitions.

The PRC’s interests are served directly by this outcome. It should be noted that Chinese trade was impacted by the attacks, but at a lower rate. In fact, the Houthis expressed the intent not to target Chinese or Russian vessels using their lower-tech weapons.

Beijing’s expanding economic and political ties with Iran – the Houthis’ principal sponsor – make support for the Iranian proxy network a low-risk means of advancing Chinese influence in the Middle East. At the same time, instability in the Red Sea complements broader Chinese efforts to expand its strategic footprint across the Gulf of Aden and the Horn of Africa, anchored by its military base in Djibouti and reinforced through port access, infrastructure investment and maritime diplomacy.

Iran provides the Houthis with weapons, training and intelligence, much of it enabled – directly or indirectly – by Chinese technology and supply chains. This assistance includes dual-use components, satellite imagery, navigation systems and drone technologies which enhance Houthi targeting and operational reach. The result is a layered proxy relationship in which the PRC benefits without engaging overtly.

From an attritional standpoint, the benefits to Beijing are also substantial. Repeated Houthi attacks compel the US Navy to intercept low-cost drones and missiles with some of its most expensive air defence systems. Over time, this erodes missile stockpiles, stresses maintenance cycles, accelerates platform wear and exhausts crews operating at a sustained high tempo.

Equally important are the intelligence dividends which the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) – the PRC’s armed forces – gain from watching American operations. By provoking US and allied defensive responses – often using unsophisticated drone systems – the Houthis generate a steady stream of data which can be used by the PLA to understand defensive systems. The radar emissions, Electronic Warfare (EW) techniques, Command and Control (C2) procedures, tactics and interceptor employment patterns all are observed, recorded and analysed by the PLAN.

This information is invaluable for refining future operational concepts and countermeasures in any future operations around Taiwan. Of course, on the other side of the coin, the US Navy is getting to practise operations in a real-world environment, which is also beneficial for future operations.

Finally, the Red Sea campaign carries powerful strategic messaging worldwide. Continued disruptions to commercial shipping risk eroding international confidence in the US’ ability to guarantee freedom of navigation, a cornerstone of American global power. Every successful or near-successful attack reinforces perceptions of US vulnerability and overstretch.

Seen in this light, the Red Sea crisis may represent more than a regional security problem. Historically, great power wars rarely begin with formal declarations. They often emerge through deniable proxy conflicts which allow states to test weapons, doctrines and political will. The Spanish Civil War of 1936-1939, for example, served a similar function in the lead-up to the Second World War, in addition to the geopolitical aspects of the civil war itself.

American and allied forces are already engaged in daily combat operations against state-enabled actors in the Red Sea, even if these engagements are publicly framed as part of a regional conflict, not a wider conflict. The lack of explicit acknowledgement does not diminish their significance; it merely obscures the possibility that these encounters are shaping the opening phase of a larger systemic struggle, or at least operations to weaken the US for future operations in another theatre of operation (i.e., the Indo-Pacific).

What should the US do?

First, this is not advocating for the abandonment of the Red Sea region or the US Navy’s traditional role in guarding sea lanes. Both or either of these would be a disaster to American national security, the security of its allies, and global stability. However, Washington needs to meet this challenge in a different approach. A suggestion is for the US to use a four-pronged approach to the Houthis in the Red Sea and other similar proxy attacks.

First, a tactical reassessment. The current model of deploying billion-dollar destroyers and expending million-dollar missiles to defeat low-cost drones is not sustainable either financially or industrially, especially in the current political and economic climate. The US should expand the use of uncrewed systems, directed-energy weapons and lower-cost countermeasures such as advanced jamming and point-defence solutions. Expeditionary platforms and adapted commercial vessels should supplement high-end warships.

Second, strategic messaging. Washington must seize the narrative initiative by explicitly linking the PRC, via Iran, to regional instability. Shadow sponsors should be named. At the same time, the US should strengthen multinational naval task forces to distribute the burden and demonstrate unity – particularly with its European, Indian, Australian and regional partners.

Third, reciprocal proxy pressure. Defensive operations alone are insufficient. The US should adopt its own sub-threshold strategies, supporting countervailing pressures against Houthi, Iranian or Chinese interests in other theatres. The US could expand intelligence and logistical support to regional partners opposing Iranian proxy networks, employ targeted cyber and financial measures to disrupt sanctions evasion and proxy funding, or conduct ‘lawfare’ by leveraging maritime insurance, regulations and port-access mechanisms to raise the costs of Houthi interference in the Red Sea.

Fourth, economic and strategic redundancy. No single chokepoint should be this critical, and free and open nations should examine other potential chokepoints, and build redundancy into their strategies. While protecting the Bab el-Mandeb and Hormuz straits remains essential, Washington should also support alternative trade corridors, such as the India-Middle East-Europe route, and expand its presence in East Africa and the Indian Ocean to counter Chinese port diplomacy in the region. Doing so would be a win-win for American policy.

Conclusion

Houthi attacks on shipping in the Red Sea have evolved from a regional insurgent threat into a strategic proxy conflict between the PLA and the US military with global economic and security implications. The Houthis, while publicly framing their attacks as resistance to Israeli and ‘Western’ intervention, have imposed disproportionate costs of weapons, supplies and manpower on the US Navy. The result is an asymmetric cost exchange, which degrades American readiness and strains naval resources for operations across the world.

The PRC has emerged as the principal beneficiary from the weakened US Navy. Through their partnership with Iran, the Houthis function as a proxy force which weakens American maritime dominance while providing the PRC with valuable intelligence on US naval tactics and systems. This deniable, low-cost strategy undermines American credibility as a security guarantor and signals a broader pattern of great power competition unfolding through proxy warfare rather than open conflict.

If the US fails to grasp the deeper stakes of the Houthi campaign, it risks being strategically outmanoeuvred by the so-called ‘CRINK’ nations – the PRC, Russia, Iran and North Korea – before a broader conflict emerges fully, in Taiwan or at least in the Indo-Pacific region. For the PRC, these attacks are not merely a Red Sea crisis; it is a rehearsal for future conflict.

The US must adapt to this new form of proxy irregular warfare. Its adversaries already have.

Edward Salo, PhD, is Professor of History and Chair of the History Department at Arkansas State University. He is a former Fellow of the Modern War Institute at West Point and the Joint Special Operations University, as well as a former Civilian Aide to the Secretary of the Army. He also served as a member of New America’s Nuclear Security Futures Group.

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Call it naval soft power, maritime prestige, or – more usefully for the City of London – maritime influence capital: an asset which sits on the United Kingdom’s (UK) balance sheet whether or not it appears in the Budget Red Book.

For a medium-sized economy with finite defence resources, such an asset matters. It explains why British designs still win frigate competitions against bigger economies, why North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) allies continue to send their ships to Devonport for a bruising few weeks of training, and why a 40-year-old campaign in the South Atlantic still shapes naval doctrine from Canberra to Oslo.

If the UK wants to turn defence into a durable export engine, it should treat this maritime influence capital as deliberately as it does its tax regime or financial services rulebook.

A navy whose story is larger than its order of battle

On paper, the Royal Navy is no longer the global behemoth of 1914 to 1945. In terms of tonnage and hull numbers, it sits firmly in the tier of serious but not dominant navies. Yet, its historic narrative – from the Battle of Trafalgar to the defence of North Atlantic convoys against German wolfpacks – still shapes how allies and adversaries alike perceive British seapower.

This narrative is not just a historical romance. It has left behind a deep doctrinal and institutional legacy: concepts of task group operations, carrier aviation, convoy protection and Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) which other navies have studied, borrowed and sometimes copied outright for a century. The fact that the Royal Navy’s Type 26 ‘Global Combat Ship’ frigate has been adopted, in local variants, by Australia, Canada and now Norway – culminating in a £10 billion deal for five ships; the largest warship export in the UK’s history – is not just about steel price and radar fit. It is about confidence in a British way of operating at sea.

In other words, the Royal Navy still projects credibility disproportionate to its size. For investors and policymakers, this credibility is not a sentimental asset. It is a pricing power in export competitions, and a de-risking factor for partners buying into UK-designed platforms.

The Falklands: The last Western navy to fight a high-end war at sea

The second pillar of this influence is more recent, and far less comfortable: the Falklands War. It remains the only post-Second World War conflict in which a Western navy fought and sustained losses in a high-end maritime campaign against a capable air opponent – including up-to-date anti-ship missiles.

For all the trauma it inflicted, the 1982 campaign forced a generation of officers and engineers to learn in weeks what others have tried to recreate synthetically ever since: air-sea coordination under pressure, long-range logistics at the edge of one’s tether and layered air defence cobbled together from what was available. Analyses of the Falklands War’s lessons on air defence, missile vulnerability and operational art still circulate in professional military education across NATO and beyond.

The experience of the Falklands has had two quiet but important effects. First, it gave the Royal Navy a culture of operational realism. Warfighting is not an abstraction: ships can be hit, political guidance can be ambiguous, and the perfect solution rarely arrives on time. This mindset informs how British officers now design exercises, rules of engagement and survivability standards.

Second, the Falklands War gave foreign partners a sense that British advice is battle-tested. When Royal Navy officers talk about missile defence, damage control or operating under constrained rules of engagement, they do so with the authority of a service which has lived the downside risk. In a market where many navies are relearning the basics of high-end war at sea on paper, this lived memory is an exportable commodity.

FOST: A ‘finishing school’ for NATO fleets

The third, and perhaps most tangible, vector of British maritime influence is training. The organisation previously known as Flag Officer Sea Training – now Fleet Operational Standards and Training (FOST) – has, for decades, been the Royal Navy’s crucible of operational readiness. It is also increasingly becoming a finishing school for allied navies.

From its bases in Plymouth, Portsmouth and elsewhere, FOST provides intensive pre-deployment training and assurance for Royal Navy and Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) units. However, its reach goes much further. Over the years, NATO and non-NATO navies have routinely sent their ships to subject themselves to the same demanding serials, with permanent Dutch and German staff embedded in the training teams, and regular participation from up to a dozen partnered navies at any one time.

Foreign crews do not keep coming back because the weather is pleasant. They come because the standards are high, holistic and unforgiving: involving fighting the ship, certainly, but also damage control, firefighting, information warfare, logistics and so on – the full spectrum of what a modern task group needs to survive first contact.

For the UK, this is soft power in its most concrete form. A frigate commander who has taken their ship through a FOST work-up will tend to think in Royal Navy patterns about safety margins, readiness thresholds, and what ‘fit to deploy’ truly means. Over time, this shapes procurement preferences, interoperability choices and, ultimately, platform selection.

Turning influence into contracts without cheapening it

None of this is an argument for complacency. Influence capital can be run down if it is over-promised and under-delivered. Britain still needs credible mass, timely recapitalisation and munitions which match rhetoric. But, used intelligently, this naval soft power can underpin a broader maritime export strategy.

The Type 26 shows what is possible when a combat-proven doctrinal heritage, a modern ASW design and long-term industrial partnerships come together. With eight ships for the Royal Navy and at least 26 variants now planned or under construction across Australia, Canada and Norway, the platform has become a de facto standard for high-end ASW among allied navies. Beyond hulls, the UK is well-placed to export ‘naval readiness as a service’. This encompasses FOST-style training, exercise design, digital twins and mission rehearsal tools which package the UK’s operational practice for allies investing in new fleets.

Looking ahead, concepts such as the emerging Atlantic Net – combining crewed ships, autonomous systems and private sector maritime services to sustain presence and logistics – can turn Britain’s doctrinal and training edge into modular solutions for allies and partners who want credible seapower without recreating the entire ecosystem from scratch. For the City of London, this is not just about defence companies. It is about long-term availability contracts, export credit, blended public-private funding for infrastructure, and the analytics underpinning modern naval maintenance and training.

The UK does not need to rebuild a Victorian-era Royal Navy. Instead, it possesses significant maritime influence capital in its dense, respected web of naval experiences and standards, which other like-minded free and open nations use. In this respect, discussion matters, which is why events such as the recent International Sea Power Conference are so important. They help to shape the future direction of policy – encouraging policymakers to treat this as a strategic asset and nurturing it so the Royal Navy’s reputation continues to outpace its tonnage.

Julien Lalanne de Saint-Quentin is Adjunct Fellow at the Council on Geostrategy. Previously, he was an officer in the Marine Nationale for 27 years, commanding a number of warships. He has also served in both the British and French ministries of defence in strategy and policy roles.

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This piece was written in April 2025 for the First Sea Lord’s Essay Competition 2025, and was awarded runner up by the judging panel.

This analysis assumes that the United Kingdom (UK) must defend the North Atlantic alone; that there is no defence or joint operations to rely on, and that Britain must defend against a strategic threat by itself. In this case, the plausible threat in the Atlantic will be identified as Russia’s Northern Fleet, with concerns focused on submarine routes and uncrewed system warfare.

Due to the limited operational capacity of the Royal Navy in an alone scenario, the Greenland-Iceland-UK (GIUK) gap is key to denial and should be reinforced. Therefore, a sovereign maritime strategy which focuses on three pillars would be recommended: reactivation of Scapa Flow as a key anchorage, a development of a resilient drone-commanding battleship and deployment of semi-autonomous systems across the GIUK gap.

Strategic context

Russia’s most viable naval threat vector to Britain is through the GIUK gap and the Norwegian Sea. Therefore, the Royal Navy’s first line of defence is to be able to enforce containment along this vector. In this scenario, it is assumed that the Baltic Sea is contested, and that the Black Sea Fleet remains confined and degraded from the conflict in Ukraine.

However, if this is not the case, it is viable to extend the line to the English Channel, and use assets in Gibraltar to continue an area of denial. It is also worth noting that Canada would likely block the use of the Labrador Sea, even in an ‘alone’ scenario, due to sovereignty of borders. Therefore, the GIUK gap and Norwegian Sea approaches form the most critical zone for UK defence. Denial would be the most operationally effective option.

Recommendation 1: Reactivate Scapa Flow

Scapa Flow enables a deepwater anchorage to the north of the British Isles. Coupled with its historical effectiveness as a naval base, it creates a uniquely defensible bastion, which would be a key anchorage for the Royal Navy in any northern defence.

The proximity of Scapa Flow would serve as a key home base and linchpin in the area denial plan. Furthermore, this would be a cost-effective option due to previous development of the port, enabling the Royal Navy to project power and enforce area denial within a short time period.

The reactivation of a large northern anchorage is key for logistics, surveillance and safe mooring for the Royal Navy. Without its redevelopment, there is a large gap in defence of not only the Atlantic, but the British Isles themselves. If the UK is to stand alone, this reactivation will be key to protecting British interests and keeping the Royal Navy strong in the north due to close localised supply, which adversaries are not afforded.

A fast-track redevelopment policy, with swift implementation of Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) nets and development of the modern infrastructure is what the Royal Navy requires to be formidable in the north.

Recommendation 2: The ‘Dominion’ class ship

To reconcile issues in recruitment and naval capacity the UK would have in an ‘alone’ scenario, a new class of ship should be implemented: the ‘Dominion’ class, based on designs of USS South Dakota or a similar vessel. A modernised battleship equipped for saturation from missiles, or Underwater Uncrewed Vehicle (UUV), or Uncrewed Surface Vehicle (USV) attacks, is now needed in modern battles.

This saturation is shown in the USS South Dakota report. To ensure its ability to stay afloat, the Dominion class would be equipped with its own drone, USV and UUV launch and recovery capabilities, making it a formidable sea fortress. Based on survivability data and reports from Ukraine, missiles, USVs and UUVs pose a contemporary problem to modern navies, with the sinking of the Russian Navy’s Moskva ‘to have been preceded by days of attacks using UAVs [Uncrewed Aerial Vehicles]’ – drones – before missile strikes.

Therefore, ships need to demonstrate new survivability through robust armouring and smart modular internal design. During the naval battle of Guadalcanal in the Second World War, USS South Dakota not only endured high-intensity battles from bombardment but returned to the fight, providing support and firepower. In the age of uncrewed warfare, the ability to absorb damage and remain in the fight will be key to future naval engagements, making redundancy key due to high-damage scenarios becoming likely.

With a citadel design, a modular ship means high survivability and room for the ability to be a nerve centre for the Royal Navy. This ship would focus on command presence, and act as a drone and communications hub, meaning few are needed. Its high survivability would also meet the Ministry of Defence’s (MOD) Defence Maritime Regulations, specifically 606, 307 and 604-605.

Recommendation 3: Semi-autonomous systems

Britain should improve its semi-autonomous systems to enable uncrewed patrol and sensor nets to be deployed from Scapa Flow and Dominion class ships to the GIUK gap and Norwegian Sea. Augmenting the Royal Navy with a ‘mothership’ which would have the ability to deploy, retrieve and repair semi-autonomous systems such as Remus UUVs or MQ-9A Reapers, would reshape naval warfare in the UK’s favour, ensuring conscription is not needed to maintain high operational capability.

The Dominion class would monitor submarine and ship movements via semi-autonomous systems, relaying real-time data to Scapa Flow and other Dominion class ships, creating an effective sustained armed presence without overstretching the Royal Navy’s crewed fleet and making area denial feasible. Furthermore, this new drone-ship class would be consistent with the MOD’s Defence Drone Strategy and ideas of growing autonomous fleets.

Conclusion

In conclusion, even in a world of allies or adversaries, Britain must hold the GIUK gap-Norwegian Sea corridor. However, geography and technology give the UK the ability to develop an edge if it invests wisely. To defend the North Atlantic alone, Britain should look beyond traditional manpower and fleet ideas to embrace a new doctrine in naval innovation.

Harry Dove is an International Strategy and Policy Desk Officer at the Ministry of Defence, working to realise the potential of NATO, AUKUS and other international innovation activities. He holds an MA in International Relations and Affairs from King’s College London.

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This piece was written in April 2025 for the First Sea Lord’s Essay Competition, and was awarded Bronze at the International Sea Power Conference 2025.

An increase in defence spending to 3.5% or 4% of the United Kingdom’s (UK) Gross Domestic Product (GDP) would require a radical realignment of fiscal priorities for His Majesty’s (HM) Government, whether funded through higher taxes, heavy borrowing or a significant reduction in other departmental budgets. The only situation in which this might occur would be an unprecedented change to the geopolitical environment – most likely a complete or near-complete withdrawal of the United States (US) from the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO).

If the US downscaled its offer to NATO and other regions, the Royal Navy would likely be required to increase its commitments, especially within the Euro-Atlantic and the Middle East. Understanding the context in which a defence spending increase would occur is important for discussing the consequent implications.

It should be noted that GDP percentages are a poor way to determine defence investment. Britain has historically spent defence budgets inefficiently, best seen in comparisons with France, which possesses nuclear weapons, a larger army and roughly similar capabilities with a defence budget amounting to 79% of the UK’s in 2024. While more money is required, it must also be spent more efficiently. Nevertheless, greater funds are obviously a precondition for improvement, and would give the Ministry of Defence (MOD) a greater ability to prepare to fight both today and in the future.

How might HM Government use such an increase, especially regarding the Royal Navy? Considering the scenario, the overarching aim would be to replace partly the US’ role in NATO and European security. This in turn would require rebuilding the foundations on which the British defence enterprise is built to enable a broad expansion of capacity. Shoring up the less glamorous elements of military power would be far more valuable than simply pouring budgets into more frontline assets. The classic ‘Workforce, Equipment, Training, Sustainment’ (WETS) format is a useful model for considering this.

First, workforce. The British Armed Forces do not have enough people to fulfil current requirements, and certainly not enough for a scenario in which commitments greatly expand. The Royal Navy is no exception to this, and naval personnel are still leaving at a faster rate than they are replaced. While new technology will help to compensate for this somewhat, there is no evidence from past or current conflicts that it will negate the need for a larger workforce. Indeed, multiple reports note the critical need for manpower on both sides of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Spending unlocked funds on solving problems of recruitment and retention – including the uplift of the defence housing estate – and increasing the number of sailors available to the force (including reservists) will be key to bolstering the Royal Navy’s fighting power.

Second, equipment. The highest priority – especially if a decline in American commitment was the key driver in greater defence spending – would be the development of strategic and integrated assets. Developing the digital backbone of the MOD would be critical in ensuring that communication becomes less stovepiped, new technologies could be adapted effectively and the British Armed Forces can fight considerably more efficiently.

Similarly, developing the UK’s space assets would be a priority, especially for communication and Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR) capabilities; the criticality of these capabilities extends to the maritime as much as it does to the other domains. Fundamentally, if the basic digital and data structures are not sound, the Royal Navy will not be able to exploit the benefits of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and other novel technologies, nor will it be able to operate as part of the ‘Integrated Force’ alongside the other services.

Once funding has been secured for the adoption of emerging technologies, ship procurement can then be tackled. Although British shipyards are expanding, vessels still take time to procure, and it is unlikely that the Royal Navy would receive a major uplift in conventional advanced warships in the short term. Industrial capacity will also be discussed further down, but if a quick increase in hulls was needed, the additional funds could be spent on novel sovereign solutions or by purchasing from abroad. The former option would include procuring uncrewed vessels and aerial drones by drawing on the strengths of the UK’s Small and Medium Enterprise (SME) economy. In particular, a greater number of Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) assets would be required, as Britain could no longer rely on the support of the US Navy in a contest against the Russian Northern Fleet or to defend its nuclear deterrent.

Alternatively, ships could be procured from allies such as South Korea or Japan, which both have significant shipbuilding industries – producing approximately 29% and 13% respectively of ships built in 2024. This could include sustainment ships and more Offshore Patrol Vessels (OPVs) or fast attack craft, which would free advanced surface escorts for conventional warfare while retaining presence in areas of interest, most notably the Red Sea, Persian Gulf and Indian Ocean.

Training is an often-overlooked factor. Significant funding should be apportioned to enable rigorous and realistic training of naval personnel. While synthetic training can assist at a lower cost, nothing matches the effectiveness of live exercises. Greater live-fire practice, experimental training and formation-level (e.g., carrier battle group) exercises would ensure that the Royal Navy retains its position in employing the world’s foremost fighting sailors. Greater training for reservists should also be emphasised to mould a capable second echelon, as well as joint exercises with other arms to strengthen the Integrated Force.

Finally, none of this can occur without effective sustainment. At a tactical and operational level, ensuring ready availability of logistics for both the fleet and the Commando Force will be a pressing requirement, through the procurement of support ships and the stockpiling of consumables, such as munitions, spare parts and fuel. At a strategic level, heavy investment is required to ensure the reliable procurement and production of munitions and equipment at scale. Economically, even greater investment in the UK’s shipyard capacity could have a long-term positive impact on the Royal Navy’s ability to facilitate growth, especially if funding was unlocked to 4% of GDP by 2035.

A significant increase in spending to 3.5% or 4% of GDP would come with a commensurate increase in responsibilities. The Royal Navy could expand and modernise, but would also be expected to carry a far greater burden of European and global security. ‘Getting the basics right’ will be central to ensuring that the Royal Navy is ready to meet the challenges of a more dangerous world.

Matthew Palmer is a former British Army Officer, the Sir John Moore Adjunct Fellow at the Council of Geostrategy and a Richmond Fellow of the Royal Navy Strategic Studies Centre. He also writes in a personal capacity at Cracking Defence.

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This piece was written in April 2025 for the First Sea Lord’s Essay Competition, and was awarded Silver at the International Sea Power Conference 2025.

The United Kingdom (UK) is a strategic linchpin in global internet infrastructure, with a dense network of submarine communications cables landing on its shores – notably in Cornwall, Kent and Suffolk. These cables carry up to 95% of the world’s intercontinental data traffic, linking North America, Europe and beyond. As such, they are not only technical assets, but geopolitical chokepoints whose disruption could cripple financial transactions, military Command and Control (C2), and diplomatic communications. From the First World War, when Britain cut Germany’s global cable network on day one, to the present, control over undersea communications remains a strategic imperative.

Today, the threat landscape has evolved. Recent discoveries of Russian acoustic sensors near the UK’s Trident submarine routes and Chinese experimentation with autonomous cable-interdiction devices illustrate a growing convergence of capability and intent. Historical precedents of cable tapping, such as Operation IVY BELLS, are now joined by modern realities: plausible deniability, sub-threshold operations, and the use of shadow fleets and hybrid vessels to conduct deniable actions.

The presence of highly specialised platforms, such as the Yantar, a Russian ‘research vessel’, and the Belgorod, a Russian-flagged tanker, supported by an ecosystem of undersea platforms including Losharik, Paltus, Klavesin and Shelf, underscores the scale of the challenge. These platforms allow for precision seabed operations, cable mapping and covert sabotage, all under deep-sea concealment. The sabotage of the Nord Stream pipelines also highlights that such undersea attacks are not limited to data cables alone; critical oil and gas infrastructure is equally vulnerable.

Importantly, the strategic logic behind cable attacks is not necessarily military victory, but political disruption. Disinformation campaigns, narrative engineering and attempts to shake confidence in North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) cohesion are the true objectives. As such, free and open nations’ responses should not only be kinetic or technical, but psychological and legal as well.

Retaliating in kind, for example by cutting cables to ‘CRINK’ states – the People’s Republic of China (PRC), Russia, Iran and North Korea – would undermine Britain’s norms-based posture. Instead, its goal should be to deny adversaries the effects they seek: widespread panic, loss of services or political destabilisation. Attacks should be rendered both ineffective in outcome and prohibitively expensive in terms of operational effort and political risk.

The Royal Navy is already a capable force in this domain, with assets such as the Type 23 frigates, Merlin and Wildcat Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) helicopters, and the recently commissioned Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) Proteus offering tools for undersea surveillance and response. Complementary assets include Mine Countermeasure Vessels (MCVs), the dedicated RFA Stirling Castle and P-8 Poseidon MRA1 Maritime Patrol Aircraft (MPA).

This fleet offers layered coverage from surface, subsurface and airborne platforms. However, it remains numerically limited. Legacy procurement cycles are both expensive and slow, and readiness rates have been a consistent concern. As many within industry and defence circles suggest, what the UK needs is not only high-end capabilities, but affordable mass; to adapt, Britain should adopt a five-pronged strategy.

First, the Royal Navy should deploy a persistent network of seabed sensors, both fixed and mobile. Passive acoustic arrays; naval drones, such as the Slocum gliders trialled under Project HECLA; and technologies inspired by programmes such as the Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) Persistent Aquatic Living Sensors (PALS) should be integrated into both British and NATO undersea monitoring efforts.

Second, patrol tempo should increase in known cable corridors. While platform count is constrained, improved readiness and the development of multirole support vessels – similar to the Nordic model – can stretch existing capabilities. These vessels are not only operationally flexible, but also more efficient in capital utilisation, offering cost-effective solutions adaptable to a wide array of missions.

Third, the Ministry of Defence (MOD) should accelerate investment in uncrewed and autonomous maritime systems. This includes Uncrewed Surface Vehicles (USVs) and Uncrewed Underwater Vehicles (UUVs), from small sensor-bearing vehicles to Extra Large ‘XL’ models with persistent endurance. Artificial Intelligence (AI)-enabled maritime domain awareness systems – whose development can be coordinated by the Defence Artificial Intelligence Centre (DAIC) in collaboration with stakeholders such as the Defence Science and Technology Laboratory (DSTL) and Defence Equipment and Support (DE&S) – should be prioritised.

Additionally, supporting initiatives such as the NATO Defence Innovation Accelerator for the North Atlantic (DIANA) and the NATO Innovation Fund (NIF) can provide a strategic boost to early-stage capabilities. Overhead support from High Altitude Platform Stations (HAPS) and Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR) satellites can further relieve warships from stationary monitoring roles, allowing them to concentrate on deterrence and response.

Fourth, international collaboration is crucial. Expanding the scope of the Joint Expeditionary Force (JEF) or creating a new multilateral task force for undersea infrastructure protection would allow allied burden-sharing. Wargames and naval exercises should include cable disruption scenarios, while private sector capital and expertise can be leveraged via public-private partnerships, especially in emerging dual-use technologies. Doctrinal evolution, particularly in sub-threshold escalation management, should accompany these operational reforms.

Finally, engagement with telecom providers should become institutionalised. The majority of the cables are privately owned; thus, shared threat intelligence protocols, resilience audits and incident response plans are essential. Investments should also be made into rapid repair platforms and technologies capable of flagging and investigating cable disturbances in real time. Additionally, technical innovations in cable design could support integrated sensing capabilities to raise early alarms of tampering.

Ultimately, Britain must recognise that undersea cables are no longer just critical infrastructure – they are contested strategic terrain. The response to threats in this domain must be equally multidimensional: blending defence readiness, allied coordination, technological innovation and legal-psychological resilience. Only then can the UK ensure that future sub-threshold threats, whether from Russia’s shadow fleet or the PRC’s autonomous saboteurs, are denied the very impact they seek to achieve.

Francesco Canossi is an aerospace and defence professional, with a background in Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics (STEM). He is also a Fellow of the Council on Geostrategy’s Maritime Leaders’ Programme.

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This piece was written in April 2025 for the First Sea Lord’s Essay Competition, and was awarded Gold at the International Sea Power Conference 2025.

The United Kingdom (UK) is positioned at the heart of the North Atlantic, which ‘encompasses the area between Newfoundland-Iberia and the Eurasian Basin in the Arctic Ocean’. This peculiar geography has meant security, prosperity and sea power throughout British history. Yet, it also entails responsibilities, such as defending the area with the Royal Navy – an activity which the UK may be soon forced to carry out alone.

Although the threats made by Donald Trump, President of the United States (US), of leaving the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) may be just a strategic move to push members to increase military expenditure, uncertainty looms over the future of the transatlantic alliance. If American security guarantees really disappeared, Britain would find itself facing new scenarios.

New priorities, AUKUS review and new partnerships

Considering, as noted by the Council on Geostrategy, that ‘the UK relies on the sea for security, energy, trade and prosperity’ it cannot be disregarded that if security increases in importance, the other three dimensions may lose their centrality and see their weight diminished. Arguably, the recommended deployment of naval units in the Indo-Pacific, also aimed at strengthening British influence and trade in the area, would become infeasible with current Royal Navy equipment.

Having to defend the North Atlantic alone, the UK should rethink its ambitions to play a more prominent role in the Indo-Pacific, repositioning its fleet closer to home, and abandoning actions aimed at contrasting such illegitimate claims as those made by the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in the Taiwan Strait. In fact, since France is also directly contributing to maritime security in the South China Sea, Britain could try to propose an exchange where it relocates some of its vessels to the North Atlantic – where they would also enhance the security of French waters – to be replaced by a more substantial French presence in the Indo-Pacific. If such an option gained substance, ‘Global Britain’ would likely return to just ‘Britain’, with a more Eurocentric or Atlanticist perspective.

However, in September 2021, AUKUS established the rejection of a distinction between the Euro-Atlantic and Indo-Pacific theatres; a fact which suggests that the UK would not be entirely alone, and may receive significant support – at least from Australia. In other words, if AUKUS becomes a two-power pact, the remaining countries may split their responsibility, becoming ‘UKA’ in the North Atlantic and ‘AUK’ in the Indo-Pacific. While it is plausible that the US may overturn its strategy and alliances in the North Atlantic, it remains much more questionable that it alters its plans in the Indo-Pacific. Pacts such as AUKUS do not involve the European Union (EU), to which Trump seems to address most of his resentment. In particular, the AUKUS programme will likely be late and over budget, including the joint construction of nuclear submarines which will not be ready until 2040. This suggests that such cooperation will last for a while.

His Majesty’s (HM) Government’s 2021 Integrated Review will consequently need significant updates. The document provides insights about the future development of nuclear deterrence in Britain, mentioning enhanced cooperation between the UK, the US and France. Britain’s commitment to the nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) is reaffirmed, although the dramatic change in the international relationships with America may put this aspect under scrutiny in the future. As such, the UK should be prepared for any scenario.

Pacts such as AUKUS emphasise how Britain may reinforce its position. The UK could try to build new coalitions attempting to involve India in the Indo-Pacific, as well as with new partners in the North Atlantic. Specifically, it could volunteer to replace the US in contributing to Iceland’s defence. Not only does Iceland adhere to the Memorandum on Nordic Defence Cooperation (NORDEFCO), but it has also concluded bilateral agreements with Atlantic countries such as Canada, Denmark and Britain. For this reason, since a form of cooperation already exists, it should not be too hard for London to strengthen its relationship with Reykjavík, and replace the US as Iceland’s main partner.

This alliance building would likely require massive investments in military spending, but it could also result in an expansion of the UK’s command nodes. Such a strategy points towards a possible enlargement of Britain’s presence in non-traditional chokepoints, such as the Faroe Islands, St. Pierre and Miquelon, the Azores and southern Greenland. Yet, despite the advantage of guarding the North Atlantic from all its corners, this layout would require significant diplomatic and economic efforts. Moreover, in these operations, the UK may be stifled by the disagreement of the regions involved – presumably by the US, unhappy with leaving the control of the North Atlantic de facto to the UK.

In this framework, Greenland’s future will be pivotal. The largest Arctic island hosts an EU office in its capital and relies on Denmark for security, despite its growing hunger for independence. Britain could profit from this, with a shared insular nature and a similar view of continental Europe (Nuuk left the EU in 1985). A contribution to Greenland’s security through the Royal Navy could provide the UK with an additional ‘seapower stronghold’ at the opposite side of the North Atlantic, and therefore a more solid control of the region.

When it comes to partnerships, however, there is an even more optimistic scenario. Exercise TAMBER SHIELD, conducted in conjunction with the Royal Norwegian Navy, has been run three times, fostering a higher level of integration and cooperation between the two fleets. There may be room for negotiations aimed at a partition of North Atlantic security operations, where Norway leads the military management of the ocean’s upper portion located north of Iceland, and Britain would take care of the waters south of Iceland.

This hypothesis is also plausible because both Norway and the UK are NATO members but not EU members, and therefore have greater autonomy in the decisions they would need to make for this plan to gain substance. Furthermore, Norway would be facilitated in this task by its proximity to Svalbard: although demilitarised, the archipelago belongs to Norway, which could involve Britain thanks to the possibility offered by the Svalbard Treaty. Finally, the UK may consider expanding Project KRAKEN to an international dimension, involving North Atlantic nations.

Tough choices for the military

Along with the above, Britain should also necessarily manage an enlargement of the Royal Navy, updating its capacity of deterrence and maritime influence. HM Government may employ savings from the latest welfare cuts, not just to add laser-equipped warships, but also to develop new units which combine naval warfare with aerial. The fact that the DragonFire laser technology employed will have a very limited cost will leave a higher margin for other projects, such as the combination of ships and drones which presents remarkable opportunities for efficiency and improvements.

In other words, drones carriers may be less expensive and more lethal than aircraft carriers, with the possibility of employing nuclear drones. These are automated uncrewed instruments, whereas real people may be sent as spies on the field to acquire information and influence military maritime politics from within, as ‘CRINK’ nations – the PRC, Russia, Iran and North Korea – have traditionally done, compared to technology-leaning free and open nations.

In order not to leave the Indo-Pacific, the Royal Navy may take inspiration from the US’ ‘Two-Ocean Navy’, and it should take into account possible issues with communication and satellites. If Elon Musk’s Starlink cannot be trusted, the UK would have to find another partner such as Eutelsat, although it remains questionable whether Eutelsat possesses the necessary resources to develop a satisfactory network of satellites, and this even in a short period of time.

It is also appropriate to remark that such an attempt would require careful consideration in order to avoid the uncertainty encountered, or mistakes which have been made when Britain has tried to model its decisions or strategies according to the American standards. An example can be identified in the Advanced Research and Invention Agency (ARIA), conspicuously funded to become an independent body contributing to the UK’s security, but essentially being very similar to the American Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA).

To summarise, the possibility that Britain is left alone in defending the North Atlantic is seen as remote, although the Royal Navy should be prepared. It can do so by reorienting its priorities and resources towards the North Atlantic, and by forging new strategic partnerships with key players in the area.

Dr Emanuele Maggioli is a Doctor of Philosophy in Global Studies (Politics and International Relations) and an independent early-career researcher.

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220 years ago, British sea power broke Napoleon’s bid for continental dominance at the Battle of Trafalgar. Against superior numbers, Horatio Nelson secured not just victory, but maritime supremacy. Yet, victory at Trafalgar was not an anomaly; it was the continuation of an enduring strategic tradition – commanding the sea to shape the continent. The true anomaly was that Trafalgar required battle at all.

The United Kingdom’s (UK) historic way of warfare relied less on warfighting and more on deterrence, using economic pressure, agile coalitions and sea power. Crucially, Britain achieved this not through partaking in war, but by avoiding it. This approach eschewed protracted continental entanglements and paralysed adversaries economically, sustaining a balance of power for centuries.

Today, the balance is under threat once again. As the United States (US), the current balancer of the world order, reorients towards the Indo-Pacific, Russia continues its full-scale invasion of Ukraine while conducting sub-threshold attacks across free and open European nations. The UK should resume its historic role, and implement a ‘Balance of Power 2.0’: a modern maritime strategy combining sea power, geoeconomics and flexible coalitions to restore order to its continent.

Continental drift

European nations face their most acute security challenge since the Second World War. Russia’s revanchist ambitions drive a campaign across the full spectrum of conflict. The Strategic Defence Review, published in June 2025, underscores the Kremlin’s willingness to ‘use military force, inflict harm on civilians and threaten the use of nuclear weapons.’ Moreover, Russia’s ‘hybrid’ tactics have brought attacks below the threshold of armed conflict to British soil.

These attacks include disinformation campaigns to corrode democratic resilience, and threatening sabotage to Critical Undersea Infrastructure (CUI) – undersea cables carrying US$10 trillion (£7.46 trillion) of financial transactions daily and energy interconnectors deemed ‘necessary for a country to work.’ Meanwhile, North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) cohesion is tested by escalating airspace incursions along its eastern flank.

Compounding this is a structural shift: Washington’s pivot to the Indo-Pacific. For 80 years, the US underwrote the European balance of power. Now, as it reorientates eastward, where its economic and security interests are ‘inextricably linked’, its European allies and partners risk strategic drift. At the Munich Security Conference in February 2025, JD Vance, Vice President of the US, captured the American zeitgeist: Europe should be deprioritised in favour of regions ‘in great danger’. This shows a rational calculus for Washington, but one of strategic instability for Europe as a whole. The choice is stark: European nations must restore balance or they risk collapse.

The British way in warfare

Britain’s historic grand strategy was never about ruling Europe; it was about balancing it. For centuries, the UK projected power from the sea to influence the land, combining military, economic and diplomatic levers into a cohesive grand strategy: command the sea, cultivate coalitions and choke belligerents through economic blockade. This design endured because it rested on a distinct synthesis of principles.

First, history proves it works. As Sir Winston Churchill explained:

For 400 years, the foreign policy of England has been to oppose the strongest, most aggressive, most dominating power on the continent…we always took the harder course, joined with the less strong powers, made a combination among them, and thus defeated and frustrated the continental military tyrant.

From the War of the Spanish Succession in the early 18th century to the defeat of Nazi Germany in 1945, Britain prevented every bid for continental supremacy. Time and again it assembled flexible coalitions, aligning with or against the other powers on the European continent. This ability to coalesce smaller powers through flexible alliances was thus never about conquest; it was about preserving Europe’s balance of power.

Second, the UK used geography to amplify strategy. Surrounded by sea, it built a global maritime order predicated on trade rather than force, avoiding protracted conflicts by projecting sea power to dominate maritime chokepoints and impose economic ruin. As Prof. Andrew Lambert notes, few recall the Anglo-Russian War of 1807-1812 because it involved little fighting. Britannia’s rule of the waves drove Russia to the brink of fiscal collapse, compelling Tsar Alexander I to capitulate to the UK’s sea power and choose war with Napoleon rather than economic ruin.

A strong maritime strategy meant that Britain never needed a mass army. Instead, trade revenues subsidised coalitions of smaller powers, which substituted for the lack of a ‘grand armée’. Even in exceptions such as the First World War, sea power remained decisive. Indeed, Sir Basil Liddell-Hart, military historian and theorist, concluded that the blockade of German ports was the ‘most fundamental’ cause of its defeat.

Third, the UK did not privilege sea power over land power. Instead, it combined them. As the doyen of maritime strategy, Sir Julian Corbett, British naval historian and geostrategist, observed that ‘since men live upon the land and not upon the sea, great issues between nations at war have always been decided…by what your army can do.’

The UK created strategic dilemmas by opening unexpected fronts which fractured enemy cohesion, denying the ability to concentrate mass for decisive action. The Duke of Wellington’s Peninsular War campaign exemplified this: the Royal Navy landed 14,000 troops, dividing Napoleon’s Grand Armée to address what the Emperor of the French called his ‘Spanish ulcer’. This ability to prosecute limited campaigns in the continent’s unlimited wars used the sea as a force multiplier. Napoleon himself lamented that an army of 30,000 men could paralyse his army of 300,000 through command of the sea. Indeed, Trafalgar enabled Waterloo: what Nelson started, Wellington finished.

Britain has repeatedly demonstrated that it can shape Europe’s balance of power without succumbing to it. The lesson is clear: the antecedents of the UK’s grand strategy provides a roadmap for the 21st century. Balance of Power 2.0 should adapt these principles to a world of sub-threshold threats, both digital and physical chokepoints, and geoeconomic coercion.

From Nelson to NATO

Balance of Power 2.0 is about deterrence, not dominance. The restoration of British grand strategy does not mean resurrecting Pax Britannica. Times have changed, even if the principles have not. Balance of Power 2.0 modernises maritime grand strategy within a NATO framework. The alliance remains the strongest security architecture to preserve Europe’s stability, but it is an instrument, not a source of power. As alliances require initiative to generate order, the UK should operationalise Balance of Power 2.0 through three lines of effort:

1. The Americans in: Britain must prove that it is still a security maker, not a taker, enabling US deprioritisation without abandonment. This can be accomplished by using flexible coalitions, such as the Joint Expeditionary Force (JEF), to support NATO and secure Wider North and Baltic maritime chokepoints; safeguarding the Greenland-Iceland-UK (GIUK) gap to protect CUI vital to the British and American economies; burden-sharing proportionally, allowing the US to focus on the Indo-Pacific while providing key enablers to Europe, such as Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR), logistics and strategic lift; integrating France into a joint nuclear commitment for shared Deterrence and Defence of the Euro-Atlantic, thus reducing pressure on the US and distributing responsibility among allies; and developing minilateral procurement agreements which link European defence expenditure to American industry, thereby embedding Washington’s strategic commitment to Europe through enduring economic interdependence.

2. The Germans downstream: As the largest defence spender and economy on the continental mainland, Germany should fill the gap of US retrenchment instead of Russia. This would require securing the Baltic Sea so that Germany’s latent mass deters Russia on NATO’s eastern flank; involving Germany in drone coalition agreements, as only allied manufacturing can mass produce drones at scale to deter Russia; using the JEF and expanded Nordic-Baltic Eight (NB8++) to support Germany’s political direction over Europe while avoiding a new equilibrium of continental power; and brokering a bargain linking German defence spending to American industry, thus maintaining transatlantic integration.

3. The Russians out: The UK must deny Russia any ability to reconstitute as a counter-balancer. To ensure this, it should use legal, economic and geographic chokepoints to disrupt the Kremlin’s revenues and dismantle its ‘shadow fleet’; lead on sanction development and enforcement against the Russian hydrocarbon sector, as a petrostate cannot survive without oil and gas exports; and accept greater risk – historically, coalitions trusted British leadership because Britain was prepared to act on its word.

Balance restored?

Britain is at an inflection point. American reprioritisation to another theatre is inevitable, but the consequences for European nations are not. Before the US, Europe never had a hegemon. It had the UK. And Britain was never strong enough to balance the continent alone – it needed coalitions.

Trafalgar teaches that command of the sea is the first condition for victory; Waterloo teaches that coalitions achieve it. Today, the same principles apply. The UK’s security begins at sea. If Britain acts now, integrating all levers of power into a cohesive maritime strategy, leveraging geoeconomic power and flexible coalitions, it can restore balance and secure Europe’s future. If it waits, European nations risk fracture. Balance of Power 2.0 is not a choice. It is a necessity.

James Langan is a Royal Air Force (RAF) Officer. Previously, he was a European energy trader, where he developed deep expertise in Russian economics and energy markets.

This article is based on topics explored as part of the Maritime Leaders’ Programme.

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In light of the Yantar – a Russian ‘research vessel’ with a history of loitering near the United Kingdom’s (UK) maritime infrastructure – returning to British waters in late November, it is worth reflecting on the state of the defence of the UK’s undersea Critical National Infrastructure (CNI). Over the last 150 years, undersea CNI has been both a target and a weapon in war. Upon the outbreak of the First World War, for example, British cable ships were sent to divert and cut German cables. Today, as during the First World War, submarine cables are vital to everyday communications and transactions.

There are many similarities between how maritime CNI was defended 100 years ago and how it is defended now. Yet, given how valuable these cables are, modernisation of defence techniques is worthwhile. His Majesty’s (HM) Government’s Strategic Defence Review, published in June 2025, has made it clear that the Royal Navy will ‘play a new leading and coordinating role in securing undersea pipelines, cables and maritime traffic’. With commitments in the Indo-Pacific and the Baltic, however, the Royal Navy is already stretched in capacity. Is Artificial Intelligence (AI) the answer to this Royal Navy capability gap?

As an island nation, the UK is heavily dependent on the undersea cables and infrastructure – about 75% of all gas imports in 2024 were transported via Norwegian pipelines – but at the same time, these are surprisingly vulnerable. AI sceptics are right to warn against expecting it to be a limitless, flawless solution to all defence problems. However, the solution to undersea CNI defence lies partially in large data-processing capacity. In this case, the defence of such CNI would arguably benefit from an AI upgrade.

Surveying British undersea CNI – the approximately 60 cables which connect the UK to the rest of the world – accurately requires the fusion of over 160 million data points per day, collected from sources such as carriers, Automatic Identification Systems (AIS), Global Positioning Systems (GPS), ships, weather updates, ports and terminals. Understanding this data through traditional means is impossible, therefore making Britain reactive to threats. To understand the patterns in behaviours of vessels and maritime actors, the UK Joint Maritime Security Centre has determined it needs 14 year’s worth of these millions of data points. Accurate human understanding and processing capacity of this amount of data is impossible.

AI can process a tremendous amount of data using machine learning. Doing this enables it to learn patterns in maritime data, which can then be used to construct models able to recognise and interpret these data points, and produce analysis about maritime activity. In order to understand the maritime picture better, and to detect threats to Britain’s infrastructure, AI is essential.

Handily, AI-led maritime data fusion is already underway. Research from Thales, a French defence company, suggests that its AI-led Mi-Map sonar analysis application can process sonar data 400% faster than conventional tools. Windward, a maritime AI company, in partnership with software developer Palantir, uses its maritime AI models to interpret data and send direct alerts in response to behavioural analysis and risk detection. The Royal Navy, however, currently does not have the necessary data architecture and networks to process this amount of data, nor to support AI-enhanced processes.

Another issue facing defence of the UK’s CNI is data-gathering capacity. The frontrunner of British CNI surveillance is RFA Proteus, a CNI surveillance ship tasked with surveying the UK’s undersea CNI. RFA Proteus is capable of launching operating Uncrewed Underwater Vehicles (UUVs). However, the task of surveilling the more than 60 CNI cables connected to the UK is a huge task.

In support of surveillance operations, Royal Navy divers also already patrol British undersea CNI. An increase in Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs), fitted with onboard AI and able to feed video and sonar data back to operators, would consequently be of great assistance. ROVs developed by the Royal Navy – such as the Defender – are already expected to save lives at sea, as well as prevent adversaries from sabotaging undersea cables and pipelines. Onboard AI would allow for autonomous navigation, improved data processing and analysis, and interoperable and efficient use with valuable Royal Navy personnel.

Getting the UK to become proactive and off the back foot is essential. The North Atlantic Treaty Organisation’s (NATO) Operation BALTIC SENTRY, launched to deter damage to CNI in the Baltic Sea, has already been a major success. To detect and deter damage to the cables landed on the British coast, the use of sensors would arguably act as a huge support to future surveillance operations similar to BALTIC SENTRY.

Placing a ring of AI-enhanced sensors – able to detect the presence of ships and other maritime activity – around the British Isles would further contribute to cheaper and quicker data gathering. The United States (US) has already implemented a similar technology in the Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency’s (DARPA) ‘Ocean of Things’.

With an advanced recognised maritime picture, the Royal Navy can make quicker and more accurate assessments about vessels similar to the Yantar, which have historically threatened undersea CNI, and subsequently recognise and track them, as Windward has demonstrated. Any prevented telecommunication cable damage saves up to £1 million, and prevented energy cable damage avoids footing a bill of over £10 million.

The increase in All-Party Parliamentary Group (APPG) sessions, committees and submitted questions in Parliament relating to concerns about CNI security suggest that politicians are already banging the Corbettian ‘protect the communication lines’ drum. They are right to do so, given there are 150-200 instances of damage to the global network each year. While most damage to undersea infrastructure is accidental, purposeful damage is increasingly common, and is extremely useful as a form of sub-threshold activity by the UK’s adversaries. The Yantar’s return to British waters is a reminder of the very real deep-sea intelligence-gathering submarine-shaped muscles that the Russian Navy and the Main Directorate of Deep-Sea Research (GUGI) are willing and able to flex.

Although AI cannot replace Royal Navy patrol vessels, it has a serious capacity to multiply the effectiveness of undersea CNI surveillance and defence. Those serious about both enhancing the defence of the UK’s infrastructure and protecting the valuable cargo of data, communications, financial services and gas which are transported along this infrastructure, should look to AI to aid the Royal Navy. Adopting AI would provide two primary benefits: firstly by giving the Royal Navy the means to run its own network of AI-led data processing; and secondly, by encouraging investment by HM Government in efficient, low-cost coastal sensors.

Liberty Hunter is a Project Manager and Researcher at the Ax:son Johnson Institute for Statecraft and Diplomacy, and a Research Associate at the Hertford College Diplomacy Centre. She is also a member of the Council on Geostrategy’s Maritime Leaders Programme.

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Si vis pacem, para bellum – if you wish for peace, prepare for war – has long been the motto of the Royal Navy, symbolising the power of force and deterrence in maintaining peace. This motto also implies that the members of the service should be trained and equipped for the struggles and dangers of conflict, with such ideas having been championed by the likes of Carl von Clausewitz, Prussian general and military theorist.

With the changing pace of warfare and the growing operational requirements of the Royal Navy, the need for fast and reliable training delivery has become increasingly necessary to prepare its future warfighters. The push to utilise synthetic environments for training is becoming more and more prevalent among navies across the world, and a step which the Royal Navy should pursue more aggressively. Synthetic environments created through simulation or wargames, whether presented digitally or on paper, can help to ensure that Royal Navy personnel are, as stated by Gen. Sir Gwyn Jenkins, First Sea Lord and Chief of the Naval Staff, ‘fully equipped to meet the work they are asked to do.’

Training and wargaming

For many years, the Royal Navy has prided itself for its training at sea, especially from its Fleet Operational Sea Training (FOST) organisation, which prepares ships and their crews for the operational environment. This training helps to provide the micro-foundations for reacting to the stresses and problems of operational life, in turn helping to improve readiness and lethality in a real warfighting environment.

Although this training is world class, there is still a call for expanding training capabilities into the synthetic and digital environment, as noted by Cdre. Andrew Ingham, Commander of FOST. The ever-increasing complexity of warfare makes it harder to recreate in the real world, and has increased the demand for resources to do this. Many of these have been implemented by the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) and its member states, while the Royal Navy has fallen behind in this area.

Such synthetic training environments will create ‘safe-to-fail’ environments, allowing for the easy rehearsal and refinement of skills and responses during times of crisis. Given the Royal Navy’s lack of operational platforms, the opportunity for training at sea is also becoming less frequent. Thus, ‌a shoreside equivalent beyond the Royal Navy’s existing simulators is required to keep its entire force suitably trained for warfighting.

These issues are being dealt with by the Royal Navy through several projects currently in development, such as the introduction of Virtual Reality (VR) headsets to platforms for simulating and enhancing bridge training and preventing skills fading. A large, more cohesive plan is also in the works to link these VR platforms, sea-based units and shoreside ship and air simulators in a joint training environment under Project SPARTAN (Synthetic Platform-enabled And Realistic Training for the Adaptive Navy).

Project SPARTAN seeks to integrate synthetic elements into real-life training with the blending of virtual elements into real exercises through VR. Such a development would allow the conduct of many training serials, which depend on specific platforms that are not always available – such as anti-submarine and carrier operations – while also allowing for in-depth training for future operations. However, Project SPARTAN is far from implementing this reality, with its first tranche of development seeking first to adopt shoreside Command and Control (C2), and collective training for Battle Staff Commands becoming operational by 2027.

Interim solutions

There are many other means through which the Royal Navy can improve its operability and readiness, with many commercial, off-the-shelf capabilities being available – some of which are already possessed but underutilised by the Royal Navy. In terms of damage control, for example, there are several VR firefighting simulators, which help to enhance and supplement fire training onboard platforms. This improves reaction times and cohesion as well as preventing skill fade.

Such programmes could not only improve the skill of battle staff and bridge teams, but also that of wider ships’ crews. In the realm of warfighting and battlespace management, the Ministry of Defence (MOD) already possesses a key tool, having attained a user licence for the commercial virtual combat simulator Command: Professional Edition (PE) – able to simulate maritime and air operations – in 2024. The platform is utilised widely by the United States (US) Armed Forces, especially the US Navy and Marine Corps, who view it as a near-term tool for force design, combat experimentation and training.

Technological answers may not be the only solution. Several issues have arisen from the possibility of bringing in outside systems such as Command PE – for example, the security problems of implementing them on ships and the complexity of learning and utilising the system.

There are, however, many physical, non-digital products which can benefit training. Navies across the world have invested in Littoral Commander, a wargame developed by Sebastian Bae, a former US marine, In its two editions to date, Littoral Commander has helped to simulate littoral combat operations and their surrounding domains. As well as being low-cost compared to its digital counterparts, the game is easily modifiable to a variety of situations, and is easy to transport – meaning it can be played anywhere from shoreside to onboard a warship.

The adoption of wargaming within the Royal Navy is becoming increasingly popular, as seen with the First Sea Lord’s recent strategic wargame to help develop warfighting plans. Such strategic, high-level wargames allow the Royal Navy to determine courses of action for future events. However, the utility of wargaming goes beyond this, as it also has great potential in terms of training and education.

Creating a culture of wargaming

Wargaming has proved itself to be an effective training tool for the development of leadership and warfighting skills of naval personnel around the world. It has always had a place at the staff officer training level, but many naval training establishments are now beginning to adopt it in their junior officer and even pre-commissioning training. It has also been shown to help improve the quality of training in many respects, especially around creating neural pathways and muscle memory towards the practical application of course content – which tends to be heavily lecture and word-focused. Additionally, it fosters creative decision-making and understanding of key concepts and building morale.

Such results have been seen most recently in the Royal Canadian Navy, whose introduction of wargaming to its junior warfare officer courses saw an improvement in student performance, both in terms of completing assessments as well as establishing the building blocks to prepare them for the complexities of naval operations. Students also gained a greater understanding of the strategic aspects and utility of a variety of land, sea and air assets.

Introducing wargaming at such an early level has helped to build a cohesive wargaming culture throughout the Royal Canadian Navy. The US Navy has called for a similar robust culture across all levels of command, viewing wargaming as a perfect medium to test and develop problem-solving skills and deal with ‘black swan’ scenarios. The US Navy has also called for increased modularity in wargaming across the fleet to accommodate an adaptable game, which can be played on a variety of platforms and allow for uniform training.

This follows the idea that for wargaming to be most effective, it should consist of ‘small, regular events, flexible in their scope and focused in their outputs’. The Royal Navy and the MOD are beginning to recognise the importance of wargaming across all levels, yet still are not performing wargames on a small or regular basis.

Beyond the First Sea Lord’s grand strategic wargame, the implementation of smaller, regular games across all levels of the Royal Navy with junior officer training allows for introduction and adaptation to the wargaming process. There are small cells of wargamers within the MOD, as well as a growing wargaming culture expanding beyond the hobbyist fringes, as seen with the introduction of the Defence Wargaming Foundation and Practitioner courses at the Defence Academy in Shrivenham. These provide the necessary skills and knowledge to demonstrate the utility of wargaming and how to facilitate it within localised units.

The Royal Navy can harness this culture to create and utilise synthetic training environments without the need for a simulator, while also introducing a training environment which is cheap, mobile and adaptable, and where it can ‘think creatively under stress and flex [its] intellectual muscles in a risk-free, limited-cost environment’.

SLt Isaac Robinson is an officer in the Royal Navy and a Richmond Fellow of the Royal Navy Strategic Studies Centre. He holds a BA in History with Economic Studies from the University of Sussex and an MA in War Studies from King’s College London.

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With the de facto closure of the vital Red Sea route between Europe and Asia, 2024 proved a particularly challenging year for global maritime shipping. Houthi attacks forced shipping companies to reroute vessels around Africa, driving up costs and disrupting supply chains. There is a clear need to balance addressing persistent, non-traditional maritime security threats – such as maritime terrorism, piracy and illegal fishing – with the renewed demands of great power competition, deterrence and preparing for potential peer conflict.

Since late 2023, multinational operations in the Red Sea, such as PROSPERITY GUARDIAN, ASPIDES and POSEIDON ARCHER, have struggled to reassure commercial shipping. Warships were scarce, response times slow, and much of the burden fell to private security firms. For ASPIDES, a fraction of the planned vessels were deployed, underscoring states’ reluctance to commit limited assets to missions perceived as non-traditional. These shortcomings echo earlier responses to Somali piracy, where Combined Task Forces (CTFs) 150 and 151 and the European Union’s (EU) Operation ATALANTA faced similar criticism over cost, sustainability and strategic prioritisation.

This modern dilemma is not unprecedented. The need to protect commercial shipping in peacetime while preparing for major conflict has shaped maritime strategy for centuries. History shows that navies often delegated certain maritime security responsibilities to non-military or irregular actors to preserve high-end warfighting readiness.

One telling example comes from Dutch colonial counter-piracy operations in the Indonesian Archipelago during the 19th and early 20th centuries. There, Dutch authorities faced the same dual challenge of persistent piracy threatening trade and the need to remain ready for peer conflict. Examining how these pressures were navigated offers valuable insights for today’s naval planners and policymakers confronting the same enduring trade-off.

Historical context: The Dutch in colonial Southeast Asia

The military organisation, tasks and ministerial coordination of the colonial Royal Netherlands East Indies Army were relatively straightforward. However, the maritime domain was not, consisting of separate organisations subordinate to different departments with varying (and often rivalling) responsibilities. Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, Dutch maritime forces in the Indonesian Archipelago comprised a complex organisation of conventional national forces, a regional force and a civilian paramilitary force, resulting primarily from what were described as ‘dual pressures’.

On one hand, the Dutch sought external security against outside powers such as the United Kingdom (UK), Spain and later Japan. On the other, they faced an internal security challenge centred on persistent piracy. This was a dual challenge comparable to today’s tension between traditional maritime security responsibilities and the need to balance irregular threats.

Interestingly, the Dutch colonial administration considered concerns of foreign power encroachment on its territorial claims to be interrelated with the issue of piracy, fearing Britain or Spain could justify intrusions into Dutch-claimed territory under the guise of counter-piracy operations. As such, a successful maritime counter-piracy strategy was considered essential for various socio-economic, colonial administrative and geopolitical reasons.

Dutch colonial maritime strategy: A dual approach

To handle the dual pressures, the Colonial Navy (Koloniale Marine) was formed, primarily outfitted with conventional, but outdated, warships, converted commercial vessels and gunboats to face largely ill-equipped and asymmetric adversaries – an arrangement that today may be considered irregular maritime warfare. It was separate from the Royal Netherlands Navy’s auxiliary squadron, yet drew personnel from the regular navy. It carried out internal security and counter-piracy responsibilities, while the auxiliary squadron had the core task of protecting Dutch colonial territories against external threats.

The Colonial Navy was a conventional approach to an inherently asymmetric and irregular naval threat. As a result, it proved utterly ineffective at its primary task of counter-piracy – the slow, bulky ships were no match for the fast and agile pirate craft, which avoided direct confrontation. Accordingly, the cost was disproportionate to its benefits, and criticism grew rapidly over the use of costly naval assets for ineffective counter-piracy operations. Naval officers increasingly lamented such ineffective tasks, which they considered ‘unworthy of the navy’.

Piracy in the Indonesian Archipelago persisted despite the Colonial Navy’s best efforts. In 1821, the colonial administration changed strategy, instead recruiting and mobilising the local Javanese population for counter-piracy purposes. Their fast and manoeuvrable kruisprauwen cruisers were small indigenous sailing boats, well-suited for the environment. These units were delegated to the authority of the local ‘resident’, a high-ranking Dutch colonial official governing an administrative division, and essentially countered an irregular threat with an equally irregular paramilitary civilian maritime force. By 1861, this ‘third’ maritime force became known as the ‘Government’s Navy’.

The Government’s Navy proved more effective at countering piracy than its naval counterpart, leading to the Colonial Navy’s disbanding in 1838. Vessels were reassigned to the auxiliary squadron of the Royal Netherlands Navy, which thereafter became known simply as the Dutch Squadron – no longer serving as auxiliary to the Colonial Navy. Although the conventional Dutch Squadron officially supported counter-piracy efforts, in practice the Government’s Navy absorbed most non-traditional security tasks. Due to its semi-military status, the squadron acquired the local nickname ‘half company’ (setengah kompeni).

The division allowed the Ministry of the Colonies, which was responsible for the Government’s Navy, to focus exclusively on the provision of inexpensive, small and manoeuvrable vessels for counter-piracy purposes. Previously, the Ministry of the Navy had obstructed their purchase, considering such capabilities useless for more traditional security responsibilities.

Throughout the 19th century, the Government’s Navy maintained between 34 and 90 vessels, far outnumbering the much smaller regular naval fleets. Moreover, by recruiting locally, and increasingly under the supervision of Dutch merchant officers instead of the more expensive naval officers, the counter-piracy campaigns became more cost-effective. Thus, the Dutch colonial authorities effectively delegated and ‘civilianised’ counter-piracy away from regular military actors.

Historical parallels with today

The Dutch colonial experience offers striking parallels to the maritime security challenges confronting today’s navies – now underscored by Houthi interdiction in the Red Sea. Then, as now, maritime forces faced a persistent dual pressure: sustaining internal security against threats such as piracy or terrorism while remaining ready for external defence against powerful state rivals.

The Dutch colonial authorities also recognised that these missions were connected; suppressing piracy helped deter foreign encroachment. Similarly, today’s ‘non-traditional’ maritime threats are often closely linked to larger geopolitical competition. While the strategic contexts differ, the Houthi threat illustrates how seemingly localised maritime security challenges can be shaped and amplified by the ambitions of more powerful state actors.

The most striking analogy, however, is represented by the Dutch colonial authorities’ decision to delegate or outsource addressing an asymmetric threat to an equally asymmetric and irregular semi-military civilian force. The Government’s Navy operated with a semi-military objective, thus representing an early precursor to today’s private maritime security companies.

In a sense, this parallels 21st century counter-piracy operations off the coast of Somalia. Initially, flag states relied on naval deployments, but Somali pirates held significant advantages with fast and manoeuvrable skiffs and their ability to avoid direct confrontation. This led states to turn to irregular solutions: embarked guards and a larger number of cheaper, smaller escort vessels – utilised in counter-piracy operations in the Gulf of Guinea – provided more effective defence and deterrence than a few powerful warships.

There are further analogies regarding the apparent issue of cost-effectiveness, which played a significant role in both the establishment of the Government’s Navy and the utilisation of private maritime security companies today. Moreover, institutional conflict within naval circles concerning a navy’s ‘core task’ also represents a persistent feature regarding the delegation of security, as illustrated in 2012 by R. Adm. (rtd.) Terence McKnight, the inaugural commander of CTF-151, who said: ‘It is time for the maritime community to take responsibility for their own security and free our navies to defend our freedoms on the high seas.’ Additionally, similar to the political pressures faced by the ill-equipped and outnumbered Colonial Navy, the international naval coalitions received harsh criticism from their respective political establishments, as their attempts to suppress piracy initially had little impact and caused the diffusion of pirate activity over a larger area.

With the return of great power competition and a renewed focus on traditional security, these insights may regain relevance. Houthi attacks have increasingly become a concern for the private security industry, while states are growing more reluctant to engage in such non-traditional and irregular maritime threats. Furthermore, the mobilisation of equally irregular actors by states in countering a variety of asymmetric threats might make a return as well – as discussed regarding the use of non-military actors in the South and East China Sea disputes, where coast guards and maritime militias are progressively overshadowing their naval counterparts.

Ultimately, the maxim that history does not necessarily repeat itself but often rhymes certainly holds true, as highlighted by the Dutch colonial maritime strategy in the Indonesian Archipelago.

Pieter Zhao is a PhD Researcher at Erasmus University Rotterdam, where his research focuses on the role of non-military and irregular actors in maritime warfare and security throughout history. He is also a Non-Resident Fellow with the Irregular Warfare Initiative and part of the Maritime Leaders Programme at the Council on Geostrategy.

This article was originally written for the Irregular Warfare Initiative, and republished in Small Wars Journal. It is republished here with permission from the author and the Irregular Warfare Initiative.

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The use of asymmetric naval warfare is most often linked with small(er) navies facing numerically, and often qualitatively, superior adversaries. While perfectly logical, this association fails to account for the utility of asymmetric tactics, strategies and technologies in a number of different scenarios, including where a globally superior, but overstretched, force must deal with a locally superior and concentrated one.

Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the Black Sea has provided an excellent case study on how vulnerable a large navy can be to asymmetric methods, such as those employed by Ukraine. Kyiv’s use of aerial and surface drones, minefields and anti-ship missiles, combined with ever-evolving unconventional tactics, has repeatedly taken the Russian Black Sea Fleet by surprise and nullified its superiority, essentially pushing it to retreat into a defensive posture.

Forced by circumstance in the early stages of the conflict, Ukraine has had to invest financial and human resources into the development of asymmetric tactics and the acquisition of related technologies in order to exercise some level of sea denial against the Russian Navy. Ukraine’s success provides a useful blueprint for other militaries facing similarly unfavourable odds, but it should also come as a reminder that asymmetric warfare, and the resulting capabilities, can – and should – be embraced by much more capable navies.

The struggle for the Mediterranean

The Mediterranean theatre of the Second World War, involving the Royal Navy and the Italian Regia Marina between 1940 and 1943, illustrates how more evenly matched forces can mutually deny each other’s freedom of action in the early stages of a conflict, as well as how they can fail to incapacitate their opponent significantly even after dealing serious blows, as in the later stages of the war, following a number of British victories.

At the outbreak of the war, Italy was a regional naval power, concentrating most of its forces and assets in and around the Mediterranean. By contrast, the British Empire was an outstretched global naval power, with a Mediterranean Fleet roughly matching its Italian adversary in numbers and firepower.

In the 1930s, the Regia Marina had begun thinking about developing vehicles specially designed for penetrating enemy port defences – including human torpedoes – to complement its existing fleet of torpedo-armed motorboats, or Motoscafo Armato Silurante (MAS). Despite some scepticism among naval leadership, as the war approached, the 1st MAS Flotilla (and later its offshoot, the 10th Flotilla) focused its efforts on developing and improving explosive motorboat designs, alongside human torpedoes – Siluro Lenta Corsa (SLC) – and the appropriate delivery systems, as well as the divers’ underwater breathing apparatus.

The SLC in particular offers an interesting example of how innovation is not necessarily about making rapid technological advancements, but can often be unleashed simply by using existing technology and reimagining its applications. Indeed, the first 11 units of the initial series of SLC were built from existing torpedo parts. This type of functional innovation, as opposed to purely technological, is especially useful in asymmetric operations.

Despite the first attempts to enter British ports failing due to technical issues with the still-rudimentary SLCs, the 10th Flotilla eventually managed to inflict serious damage on the Royal Navy in the wake of the humiliation at the Battle of Taranto, where, on the night of 11th November 1940, HMS Illustrious launched 21 Swordfish torpedo bombers and surprised the Italian fleet while it was in port.

Although the opposing surface fleets were well matched numerically, the Regia Marina was increasingly vulnerable to the Royal Navy’s use of radar; in which Italy had hitherto invested few resources, deeming it of secondary importance amid other priorities. Asymmetric capabilities, such as those being refined by the 10th Flotilla, were therefore becoming a lifeline of sorts – as would soon become evident.

On the north coast of Crete, in the early hours of 24th March 1941, six Italian explosive motorboats, commanded by Lt. Luigi Faggioni, entered Souda Bay, where a Royal Navy force composed of cruisers, destroyers and a dozen merchant ships were at anchor. The Italian motorboats managed to pierce through the British defences, hitting and incapacitating HMS York, a heavy cruiser, and sinking a Norwegian tanker.

Yet, only days later, the Italian surface fleet suffered a heavy blow off Cape Matapan in the Aegean Sea, losing three heavy cruisers and two destroyers. However, this new humiliation suffered by the Regia Marina, facilitated to a degree by British code-breaking and radar technology, did not put its fleet out of action. The battle for the Mediterranean continued to rage until the Armistice of Cassibile was signed in September 1943.

On 19th December 1941, the Italians were able to deal another huge blow with the raid on Alexandria, where six Italian frogmen, equipped with three human torpedoes, disabled two British battleships (HMS Valiant and HMS Queen Elizabeth). This came at a particularly challenging time for the Mediterranean Fleet, after a series of setbacks and the redeployment of a number of Royal Navy warships to the Pacific to face the Imperial Japanese Navy.

The story of the 10th Flotilla and its actions against the Royal Navy offer a valuable example of how even a large, modern and capable force such as the Regia Marina, which in fact began the Second World War with a slight numerical advantage over the Mediterranean Fleet, ended up relying on asymmetric and unconventional methods to achieve some of its greatest victories in the war.

Italy had invested large quantities of resources in its surface and submarine fleets throughout the 1930s, and there was a degree of confidence in its ability to disrupt the outstretched British and French fleets while concentrating the Regia Marina’s efforts in the Mediterranean. Reality quickly proved the challenge was greater than anticipated, and the limited investment initially spared for developing and acquiring the 10th Flotilla’s capabilities led to an absolutely essential, and highly cost-effective, tool.

Lessons for advanced navies

Looking at NATO’s military capabilities today, and drawing lessons from the struggle for the Mediterranean in the early 1940s, as well as from Ukraine’s denial of a vastly numerically superior Russian Black Sea Fleet, it may be useful to warn against a complacent approach to capability planning. While it is true that NATO navies are in many ways still technologically superior to their Russian and Chinese counterparts, this should not prevent planners from pursuing unconventional, asymmetric capabilities at scale. Asymmetry in warfare should not be seen as a one-way street.

The highly asymmetric naval engagements of the conflict in Ukraine show first and foremost that NATO navies should be prepared to defend against asymmetric threats. The Russian fleet may indeed suffer from widespread negligence, but its demise in the Black Sea should be ascribed largely to Ukraine’s ingenuity and ability to adapt. These engagements should also serve as a reminder that superior numbers, firepower and technology can be denied, or at least blunted, if fleets are prevented from leaving port altogether; even more so if they are crippled by unconventional means while supposedly safe in their bases.

Such was the lesson inflicted by Italian pioneers against the technologically and operationally superior British Mediterranean Fleet. Conversely, the navies of free and open nations have the opportunity to start developing new approaches to disrupting potential adversaries in unconventional ways. This comes at a time when there is still an appreciable technological edge – especially with regards to Russia.

With this goal in mind, NATO navies should replicate (and adapt to fit their circumstances) Kyiv’s pioneering use of different types of aerial and surface drones against Russian ships, air defences and infrastructure. As most NATO, and especially European, navies struggle to increase hull numbers and seek to bolster the firepower of their surface combatants, there is a risk that not enough attention is being given by larger and more conventionally capable navies to instruments and methods more suitable in asymmetric contexts.

Should an adversary be able to hinder NATO naval operations significantly through the competent use of asymmetric capabilities, the ability to strike the enemy even when surface fleets are unable to leave port – or engaged elsewhere – would be invaluable. Asymmetry, therefore, should not only be measured in absolute terms while comparing two forces at a global level, but as a fluid ratio which may vary in time and place. Indeed, just because asymmetric warfare is an obligation for some, it does not mean it cannot be a choice for others.

Elio Calcagno is a defence analyst based in Rome. He currently works as researcher in IAI’s ‘Defence, security and space’ programme, where he focuses in particular on the policy, industrial, strategic and operational aspects of defence at the national, European and NATO levels.

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This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise,

This fortress built by Nature for herself

Against infection and the hand of war,

This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in a silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall

Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Against the envy of less happier lands,

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

– John of Gaunt, Richard II, Act 2, Scene 1.

It is a tragedy of geopolitical theory that William Shakespeare goes unrecognised among the great canon of strategic thinkers. Few would think to place him with the likes of Alfred Thayer Mahan, Sir Halford Mackinder, Sir Julian Corbett or Adm. Sergey Gorshkov – men of sensible ideas and scholarly research.

Yet, his majestic prose communicates the inherent advantages of British geography in a way no other strategist has captured before or since. Sir Winston Churchill, himself no stranger to high oratory, rightly claimed that John of Gaunt’s dying words ‘still thrill like the blast of a trumpet…not only because they are beautiful, but because they are true’.

Perhaps less beautiful, but certainly no less true, is the 2024 Defence Committee report on the United Kingdom’s (UK) warfighting readiness. The report’s remit covered three areas of readiness: operational, warfighting and strategic. It concluded that on all three counts, Britain fails miserably.

Current deployments are unsustainable – ‘in excess of what the force structure was designed for’ – infrastructure and munitions stockpiles suffer from a chronic lack of underinvestment and strategic readiness is lambasted as ‘more of a concept under debate…than an agreed policy’.

Such findings apply too in the North Atlantic, where the UK demonstrably lacks strategic advantage in its near ‘silver sea’. Too often, suggestions on how to fight and win wars rely heavily on adjectives – ‘innovative’, ‘lean’ and ‘agile’ solutions. Reality, however, deals in nouns: the physical cranes, ship lifts, dry docks and missile systems which will deliver either deterrence or victory.

Accordingly, achieving success in the North Atlantic requires a physical reorientation of the Royal Navy’s fleet to face the Russian threat, and the recovery of meaningful shipbuilding and repair capacity to the defence industrial base.

Move on up

The Royal Navy has a long history of repositioning home forces to combat overseas opponents. Wars against the Dutch required concentration in the South East (Chatham, Portsmouth and Sheerness), while wars against the French saw forces distributed to Plymouth (to blockade Brest) and Portsmouth (to hold the Channel). In the 21st century, there is no military posture more necessary, and indeed more popular, than that which is Russian-facing.

Seven in ten British citizens view Russia as a threat, likening Vladimir Putin, President of Russia, to Hitler and holding Russian aggression in contempt. If there is a universal conviction in the UK today, it is that ‘Britain is a European military power and can help deal with Europe’s main military problem: Russia’.

Were the UK in a position wherein it was required to defend the North Atlantic alone, it should learn ‘how to acquire and wield [hard] power’, repositioning its naval forces to deter the Russian threat. Given Russia’s two entry points into the North Atlantic are the Øresund Strait (the Sound) and the Greenland-Iceland-UK (GIUK) gap, the Royal Navy should prioritise basing the next generation of frigates in ports with the most direct access to these theatres, saving considerable time in transit, as well as placing the fleet on best footing for an increasing tempo of Russian sallies.

The current structure of Fleet Ready Escort (FRE) duties compels platforms based in Plymouth to transit the length of Britain to meet any potential adversary, introducing unnecessary friction into an already gritty operation. Re-appropriating Rosyth is one obvious choice, but other options include establishing Type 31 frigates on the east coast of England, namely re-capitalising latent shoreside facilities in Tyneside.

Basing Type 31s on a rotational crew basis in the Tyneside region holds considerable promise, both at a national strategic and local level. In 1996, British defence accounted for some 400,000 jobs in the country, yet post-Cold War reductions and austerity have resulted in contemporary figures of under 165,000, concentrated in the South West, South East and the Scottish Central Belt.

By and large, the North East is abandoned, receiving £1 for every £38 spent in the South by the Ministry of Defence (MOD). If there is a way to retain the loyalty of the British Armed Forces’ prime recruiting ground, it is with a strategic re-posturing of the fleet, which offers stable, highly paid and technical employment in service of the country and with prestige in the community.

The royal ‘arsenal of democracy’

Any repositioning of the Royal Navy’s surface capabilities also requires a renewal of the defence industrial base to support an ever-increasing operational tempo. For this, the UK should look to the United States (US). Washington is increasingly leveraging the industry of partners to conduct in-theatre ship overhauls and repairs, saving its own domestic facilities for much-needed construction. Five such hubs have already been launched in a pilot programme across the Indo-Pacific, with the intention to roll out similar agreements across Europe.

Even the staunchly protectionist Trump administration approves of this Biden-era measure, endorsing the use of foreign yards for ‘routine maintenance and repair’ and manufacturing select components. Large American warships will now undergo extensive refits in foreign yards, with the US securing local supply chains and the host nations a reliable stream of industrial work.

There is little reason why Britain should not actively encourage such a hub in the North East, investing some of the hundreds of billions saved during the ‘peace dividend’ into the recapitalisation of British dockyards. Half of A&P Tyne’s dry docks are currently unused, while the dry docks and slipways of Hawthorn Leslie and Swan Hunter lie derelict.

Pallion, in Sunderland, was the largest covered shipyard in the world when it closed in 1988. Plans have been submitted to turn it into a ‘water film studio’, with no capacity for dual use in the event of conflict. However, the success of Cammell Laird in Birkenhead shows that with determined will, and a regular drumbeat of government orders, the return of skilled industry is an achievable goal.

A similar miracle could well occur on the Tyne, encouraged by a renewed Royal Navy presence and the potential for American repair tenders. This island fortress may well have been ‘built by Nature’, but it requires determined action to maintain it.

Joe Reilly is a Sub-Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, currently serving as an Initial Warfare Officer onboard HMS Cattistock. He has written extensively on matters of maritime and national strategy, with his work winning various awards in the UK, Australia, and the US.

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Welcome to The Signal, your monthly maritime newsletter, written and edited by William Freer.

Thoughts from your correspondent

August and September have been big months for the United Kingdom’s (UK) defence industry. Britain’s maritime efforts were under-invested throughout most of the 21st century: the ‘peace dividend’, the needs of the ‘War on Terror’, the lack of peer naval threats and the process of globalisation meant that the UK’s shipbuilding industry withered, and the Royal Navy shrank to breaking point. Tentative steps were made in the late 2010s and early 2020s to reinvigorate Britain’s maritime soul.

The national shipbuilding strategy and long-delayed programmes to recapitalise the Royal Navy’s old and overworked fleet may have come late in the day (dangerously close to too late in the day), but they are already showing signs of paying off.

First came success in the export of British designs. The Type 26 designs were exported to Canada and Australia, and the Type 31 design was exported to Indonesia and Poland. Combined, this will see 26 British-designed warships (though these designs have – in true naval procurement tradition – in many cases been altered to varying degrees) built in foreign shipyards. This will include the export of many British-built components and subsystems.

At the end of August, the good results on frigate exports turned into great results. Norway announced that it had selected the Type 26 for its £10 billion frigate programme. These five warships will be built in shipyards here in the UK; the first escorts (cruisers, destroyers and frigates) a British shipyard has built to a foreign order since Argentina ordered Type 42s in 1970 (unless this author has missed one somewhere) – a pretty damning 55-year hiatus! Even better news could be forthcoming, with both Sweden and Denmark rumoured to be interested in Type 31s being built for their navies in Britain.

To be clear, the Type 26 order is not without its issues. It will likely require the transfer of either the third or fourth Type 26 destined for the Royal Navy to be transferred to Norway at a time when the Royal Navy can ill afford delays to replacing the rapidly deteriorating Type 23 fleet. It will also likely lead to delays to the Type 83 programme, which is due to replace the Type 45 destroyers in the mid-2030s (depending on how much faster production can go now that the order book is fuller).

At the same time, on the other side of the world, HMS Prince of Wales hosted the Pacific Future Forum (PFF) to showcase British naval capabilities to Japan, and deepen bilateral relations. The details of the PFF cannot be explored here for the sake of brevity, but fear not – other Council on Geostrategy publications will soon be able to fill you in.

The key takeaway from recent events should be this: if Britain can get such dividends from these tentative steps towards remembering its maritime strategic culture, imagine what it could do if it applied itself with more vigour.

Tracking the deployments of the Royal Navy

Key movements:

• Carrier Strike Group 2025 (CSG2025) has reassembled following visits to Japan and South Korea from HMS Prince of Wales, HMS Dauntless and HMS Richmond. The reassembled force conducted exercises with the Japanese Maritime Self-Defence Force, the United States (US) Navy and the South Korean Navy.

• HMS Somerset continued the Royal Navy’s vital Towed Array Patrol Ship (TAPS) duty in a period which saw what appeared to be quite a busy surge of submarine-hunting activity.

• In what was welcome evidence of Royal Navy nuclear submarine activity, an Astute class boat (presumably HMS Anson) was seen returning to Faslane after what was most likely ‘delousing’ duty (i.e., making sure no Russians are snooping for a Vanguard class ballistic missile submarine).

Maritime news from allies and adversaries

People’s Republic of China (PRC): At the military parade held in Beijing to celebrate the end of the Second World War, the PRC unveiled a host of new weapons. This included a number relevant to the maritime domain, including drones (airborne, surface and underwater) and a suite of new anti-ship missiles, including hypersonic and ballistic variants. The parade should serve as a wake-up call to free and open countries to rearm with greater urgency. For those hopeful Russia’s struggles from translating parade awe into battlefield effect will similarly plague the PRC, the People’s Liberation Army’s (PLA) increasingly regular and sophisticated exercises should show this might not prove to be the case. But hey, they released some doves at the end, so I’m sure they are simply doing all this for their love of parades.

Russia: A surface drone struck a Ukrainian intelligence ship operating at the mouth of the Danube, proving that although the Russian Navy may be a slow learner, it is adapting to the requirements of the Black Sea campaign. The operation serves as a reminder that the drone threat (when sea state allows, vigilance is slack and appropriate defensive weapons are not present) will continue to present a growing danger.

United States: The US Navy has greatly increased its presence in the southern Caribbean. The deployments include several destroyers and amphibious warfare vessels in a bid to tackle drug cartel activity directly and to pressure Venezuela to contribute more to doing so too. Though drug busting is a role navies have played across the globe, this seems somewhat like overkill at a time when the US Navy should be focusing on the challenge of potential peer conflict with the PRC.

Japan: The Japanese Ministry of Defence announced a record new defence budget of almost £45 billion, with a heavy focus on procuring equipment to challenge growing PRC maritime capabilities. Given the crossover of capabilities in the maritime domain that are in demand, the UK and Japan will hopefully deepen their relationship with further defence industrial collaboration.

Naval technology news

The PLA Navy (PLAN) unveiled a suite of new Extra-Large Uncrewed Underwater Vehicles (XLUUVs) at the PRC’s military parade. Though similar in appearance to Russia’s ‘Poseidon’ system, the role the PLAN has in mind for these new XLUUVs remains to be seen. It is a reminder that not only is the PRC investing heavily in building up the mass of its ‘legacy’ platforms, such as the Type 055 cruiser and Type 052D destroyers, it is simultaneously investing heavily in innovative new systems.

The Royal Navy has been trialling new technologies over the course of the CSG2025 deployment. One area of particular interest has been the use of drones to conduct ship-to-ship logistics work. Drone-conducted logistics will significantly ease the burden on Royal Navy helicopters, freeing them up to focus on other roles. The lessons learnt from drone use in logistics will also help the Royal Navy adapt them to accelerate the development of drones to be used in support of ‘warfighting’ missions.

Oceanbird (a Swedish company which is a joint venture between Wallenius Lines and Alfa Laval) recently held the first demonstration of its new wing sail concept. The concept could see the return of sail-powered, or sail-assisted, shipping, reducing fuel costs and emissions (by up to 90%). Though not ideal for a ship’s radar cross-section, the wing sail could come in handy for reducing the costs of running naval auxiliaries in low-threat and peacetime conditions (as the sail can be lowered in high-threat environments). Plus, who doesn’t love the idea that a naval captain can once again give the order to ‘unfurl the sails’?

Who deserves a mention

Who else could it be but Adm. Sir Tony Radakin, former Chief of the Defence Staff? The admiral stepped down from the role at the start of September after what has been a remarkably eventful period since accepting the position in November 2021. Since then, a number of conflicts – including Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine and the various conflicts in the Middle East – have broken out. During Radakin’s tenure, many events which previously would have been deemed extremely unlikely have been witnessed. Large-scale conventional conflict has returned, and new military technologies have been used at scale for the first time, including drones and ballistic missiles.

The geopolitics of 2025 are completely different to those of 2021. The last four years have seen the British state demand its armed forces prepare for this deteriorating landscape, yet it has been deeply reluctant to give them the resources they need to do so (given British performance going into most conflicts, this appears to be a depressingly familiar tradition).

Under great geopolitical and fiscal pressures, Radakin has been a steady hand at the tiller, carefully guiding the armed forces through a transition period away from the previous focus on the ‘War on Terror’ and back towards a focus on the demands of potential peer conflict. One can only hope this transition began soon enough and, more importantly, that the continuation of the transition is properly resourced and these early efforts accelerated.

For if the trumpet makes an uncertain sound, who will prepare for battle?

– 1 Corinthians 14:8 (one of Adm. Sir Jackie Fisher’s favourite quotes)

A reading list on maritime matters

‘China’s military in 10 charts’ by Matthew P. Funalole and Brian Hart for the Centre for Strategic and International Studies – because who doesn’t love a great set of data visualisations to help increase the sense of semi-existential defence industrial dread?

‘Dance of the Flamingos: Ukraine’s FP-5 heavy cruise missile’ by H I Sutton – a great overview of what we know so far about Ukraine’s new V-1 look-alike long-range weapon.

‘Lights out? Wargaming a Chinese blockade of Taiwan’ by Mark F. Cancian, Matthew F. Cancian and Eric Heginbotham – this impressive 165 page report outlines the challenges of responding to a potential Chinese blockade of Taiwan, as well as a general history of blockades. To cut a long story short, the word ‘convoy’ appears over 100 times (which should surprise nobody), so we had best all start thinking about how it is we should convoy not only military but also civilian logistics (I’m looking at you too, Euro-Atlantic countries).

William Freer is Research Fellow in National Security at the Council on Geostrategy.

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A wake-up call in slow motion

Back in 2022, when Adm. Sir Tony Radakin, Chief of the Defence Staff, described drones as ‘the IEDs [Improvised Explosive Devices] of our generation’, it may have sounded like a dramatic warning. But recent incidents – such as drone sightings at His Majesty’s (HM) Naval Base Devonport or near Trident submarine facilities in Faslane – suggest that his words were more prophetic than alarmist. The United Kingdom’s (UK) most secure naval bases are now being routinely approached – and even penetrated – by small flying machines which anyone can buy online. These aren’t just isolated breaches or minor annoyances. They signal a growing vulnerability in how Britain protects its maritime assets, especially as drone technology becomes cheaper, smarter and more widely available.

How drone threats have evolved

The rise of drones in the maritime domain has unfolded in three primary stages. First came the era of surveillance. In the 2010s, commercial drones made it easy for anyone to conduct aerial reconnaissance. Where once only state actors with satellites or spy planes could observe naval movements, now a hobbyist drone costing a few hundred pounds can quietly hover over bases and ships, gathering high-resolution footage. A striking example occurred in 2021, when activists used a drone to film sensitive submarine equipment at Rosyth dockyard. This showed just how accessible high-level surveillance had become.

Next came the shift towards weaponisation. Between 2020 and 2023, drones were no longer just flying cameras: they became weapons of war. In Ukraine, low-cost maritime drones have sunk over a dozen Russian naval vessels. The Houthi rebels in Yemen have similarly used drones to attack commercial shipping and naval targets in the Red Sea. These systems cost a fraction of what a single Royal Navy patrol boat might spend on fuel, but have managed to damage or destroy high-value targets. More recently, in June 2025, Ukraine launched a mass drone strike – dubbed Operation SPIDER’S WEB – deep into Russian territory, using over 100 First Person View (FPV) drones to strike multiple airbases, damaging or destroying more than 40 aircraft including Tu‑95 and Tu‑22M strategic bombers. This unprecedented strike demonstrated that even hardened inland targets are now within reach of low-cost, precision drone attacks. Suddenly, drones are no longer tools for spying – they have teeth.

In 2025, an even more concerning phase is being entered: that of drone swarms. These groups of drones can coordinate with one another, acting like a hive mind rather than individual units. The People’s Republic of China (PRC) has recently demonstrated this capability in naval exercises near Taiwan, where dozens of drones operated in tandem to simulate a mass assault. The same tactic, applied to a Royal Navy base or fleet, could overwhelm existing defences and cause severe damage before traditional systems respond.

Why the Royal Navy is at risk

Several longstanding issues make the Royal Navy especially vulnerable to these evolving drone threats. One of the most significant problems is a mismatch between the speed of change in drone technology and the Royal Navy’s ability to adapt accordingly. As recently as 2021, the Royal Navy’s Future Maritime Aviation Strategy earmarked a tiny portion of its 3% budget for counter-drone measures. This may have seemed reasonable in peacetime, but the security landscape has since shifted dramatically. By comparison, the United States (US) Navy already spends five times more on such capabilities.

Another challenge lies in the fragmented nature of drone regulation in the UK. The Civil Aviation Authority, the Home Office and the Ministry of Defence (MOD) all play different roles in regulating drones, but there is no unified framework. This has led to loopholes, such as those utilised by smugglers who, in 2023, flew drones weighing under 250 grammes – thus exempt from many restrictions – across the Thames Estuary to deliver illegal goods. In military settings, such legal ‘grey areas’ could be exploited by hostile actors to gather intelligence or stage attacks without triggering an appropriate security response.

A third hurdle is the critical funding shortfalls (amounting to £16.9 billion), as acknowledged in the MOD’s Equipment Plan 2023-2033. These have delayed drone-defence upgrades at naval bases, thus leaving ports vulnerable to aerial threats. As observed in recent naval conflicts, critical port infrastructure frequently lacks integrated drone detection and hard-kill systems, leaving facilities vulnerable to low-cost attacks.

What can be done

Fixing these shortcomings will require more than new gadgets or a few quick fixes. A long-term, coordinated approach involving legal and technological changes is necessary.

On the legal front, regulations need to catch up with reality. The UK’s drone laws should be updated to make incursions near naval bases a serious criminal offence on par with espionage. Introducing rules like mandatory geofencing for all major ports could help prevent drones from entering restricted areas in the first place.

Technology will, of course, play a vital role. The Dragonfire laser system, currently in development, promises to neutralise small drones with pinpoint accuracy and no ammunition cost. But systems like this should be rolled out more quickly to provide meaningful protection. At the same time, integrating drone detection into existing radar and surveillance systems would allow bases and fleets to spot incoming threats earlier. Private actors, such as shipping companies and port operators, could be encouraged to invest in drone defence through insurance incentives or regulatory credits.

Why this matters now

Beyond the immediate risk to ships or bases, there is a more profound strategic concern. Every time a drone gets close to a Royal Navy facility without consequence, it chips away at the sense of invulnerability which underpins deterrence. Adversaries, whether hostile states or terrorist groups, take note of what they can get away with. Port disruptions could exacerbate supply-chain crises, mirroring the 300% cost increases and four-week delays already plaguing 55% of British exporters. But more than money is at stake. The UK’s ability to project naval power and defend its interests depends upon the perception that its maritime defences are not easily breached.

Britain has no shortage of talent or technology. What is required is the will to act at the speed of the threat. As Gen. Sir Gwyn Jenkins, First Sea Lord, recently warned, this isn’t a lesson the Royal Navy can afford to learn the hard way.

Klaudia Maciata is a global affairs and security leader with expertise in offshore wind operations, hybrid threats and energy diplomacy in the Baltic Sea region. A contributor to NATO Review and a passionate social science researcher, she works with a leading renewable energy provider, advancing international cooperation and female leadership in the offshore sector.

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On 2nd May 1964, two Viet Cong divers slipped into the murky waters of Saigon harbour and attached Soviet-supplied limpet mines to the hull of the USNS Card. The resulting explosion sank the Second World War-era escort carrier, which was then operating as a non-combatant under the Military Sea Transportation Service. Though the USNS Card was later refloated and repaired – and no United States (US) personnel were killed – the incident had an outsized impact.

This seemingly minor tactical victory sent shockwaves through American political and military leadership. It exposed critical vulnerabilities in rear-area operations and foreshadowed the asymmetric tactics which would define much of the Vietnam War. More than six decades later, the sinking of the USNS Card deserves renewed scrutiny – especially as sub-threshold conflicts and irregular maritime threats intensify in the Indo-Pacific.

Irregular warfare at the water’s edge

The attack on the USNS Card highlights an enduring lesson: ports are battlespaces. Harbours – often assumed to be sanctuaries – are in fact chokepoints where disruption can yield enormous strategic value.

The Viet Cong saboteurs exploited local knowledge, worked as port labourers and used the cluttered, permissive urban environment to conceal their movements. They studied tides, patrol schedules and harbour routines, entering the water at night and planting explosives beneath the ship’s waterline. Harbour security mistook them for maintenance personnel.

Today, the navies of free and open nations depend on a sprawling network of Indo-Pacific ports – Yokosuka, Sasebo, Subic Bay, Guam, Darwin, Singapore and others. These facilities are essential to sustaining operations across the ‘tyranny of distance’ in the region. But they also represent soft targets for irregular forces, proxy actors and non-state threats operating in the shadows of civilian infrastructure.

Strategic shock from a tactical pinprick

While the USNS Card was quickly salvaged, the symbolic damage was far greater. The attack dominated US headlines and embarrassed both American and South Vietnamese leadership. It demonstrated – years before the Tet Offensive – that the Viet Cong could strike anywhere, even in secure areas.

This lesson remains highly relevant. Recent attacks in the Red Sea by the Houthis, incidents involving tankers in the Strait of Hormuz, drone usage and cyber strikes on critical infrastructure show how irregular maritime attacks can ripple far beyond their tactical scope. In an interconnected world, a small explosive or drone can create disproportionate strategic disruption, shaking global supply chains, raising insurance costs or forcing political recalibration.

Sub-threshold maritime actors do not need to sink ships to succeed. They just need to sow uncertainty, delay and doubt.

Technology, access and asymmetry

The USNS Card was the only major US ship sunk during the Vietnam War. It was not done by a missile or by fleet engagement, but by two men with mines and a plan. Such asymmetry should give modern force planners pause.

Today, state-sponsored proxies, maritime militias or special operations forces could replicate and amplify this kind of attack using off-the-shelf drones, uncrewed underwater vehicles or cyber tools, as seen regularly in Ukraine. The Indo-Pacific’s dense commercial traffic, sprawling archipelagos and crowded port facilities offer both concealment and plausible deniability.

The USNS Card attack was not about technological superiority by the Viet Cong. It exploited weaknesses in the harbour geography, insider knowledge and lax security. For free and open nations’ navies operating in allied or partner ports, human intelligence, cultural fluency and host nation cooperation will be just as important as sonar and steel. Much of this requires strong diplomatic – as well as military – connections.

Logistics: A tempting target

The Indo-Pacific theatre is defined by its distance and logistics demands. In any future contingency – especially around Taiwan, the South China Sea or the First Island Chain – success will hinge on ships like those operated by Military Sealift Command (MSC). These vessels, while essential, often lack the protection of combatants.

This creates a dilemma: high-value logistical ships must operate in vulnerable environments with limited defence. The USNS Card attack underscores the need to rethink force protection; not just at sea, but also in port.

Solutions include expanded underwater surveillance, uncrewed harbour patrol platforms, biometric access control and tighter coordination with host nation security services. Equally vital is resilience. Damaged assets must be replaced. Infrastructure must be redundant. And the system must be able to absorb shocks without mission failure.

Key lessons for modern irregular maritime conflict

The sinking of the USNS Card offers a valuable template for understanding irregular maritime threats. It reminds us that:

• Ports are not safe zones: They are attractive targets for adversaries who cannot contest the open sea but can strike with low-cost, high-impact methods.

• Irregular actors exploit sub-threshold spaces: These threats operate between peace and war; civilian and military; front and rear. The USNS Card attackers were indistinguishable from dockworkers because they were dockworkers.

• Information is power: Insider access and human intelligence enabled the USNS Card attack more than any weapons system. Today, digital surveillance and cyber penetration make such access even easier – and more dangerous.

• Force protection must evolve: Naval planners should shift focus from traditional high-end threats to layered defence strategies which consider sabotage, insider threats and unconventional attacks in logistical hubs.

Policy recommendations

To prepare for irregular maritime conflict in the Indo-Pacific, the navies of free and open nations and their allies and partners should take several steps:

• Rethink protection for non-combatant vessels: MSC ships, prepositioned assets and other logistics enablers must be treated as high-value targets.

• Expand training in littoral urban environments: Harbours and coastal cities will be contested zones, both in a physical and informational sense.

• Invest in affordable port defences: From underwater sensors to drone patrols, cost-effective solutions can offer early warning and deterrence.

• Deepen host nation security partnerships: Shared port security protocols, intelligence fusion and joint exercises are essential to reducing vulnerability.

The sinking of the USNS Card may seem like a footnote in naval history, but it holds enduring relevance to operations today. Failures teach that naval superiority is not just about fleets and firepower, but about defending the gaps: the spaces between domains, behind the lines, and beneath the waterline. In today’s Indo-Pacific, those gaps are wider than ever – and adversaries are watching.

Edward Salo, PhD, is Professor of History and Chair of the History Department at Arkansas State University. He is a former Fellow of the Modern War Institute at West Point and the Joint Special Operations University, as well as a former Civilian Aide to the Secretary of the Army. He also served as a member of New America’s Nuclear Security Futures Group.

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Welcome to The Signal, your monthly maritime newsletter, written and edited by William Freer.

Thoughts from your correspondent

Exercise season is truly underway as we reach the end of July. For the Royal Navy, participation in TALISMAN SABRE 2025 was the main event of the month, but the Russian and French navies (further details on them later) also got their biggest exercises of the year in July.

TALISMAN SABRE is the largest bilateral military exercise between Australia and the United States (US), and often features multinational participation. This year, it put on a truly impressive performance with over 30,000 personnel from 19 different nations taking part; making it the largest TALISMAN SABRE to date. It featured a number of multi-domain exercises designed to test readiness, interoperability and combat capabilities.

The United Kingdom (UK) was a key presence in TALISMAN SABRE, with the Royal Navy’s Carrier Strike Group 2025 (CSG2025) – out on deployment in the Indo-Pacific – participating, as well as the presence of the Royal Air Force (RAF) and British Army. HMS Prince of Wales provided the centrepiece of the naval exercises alongside the US Navy’s Nimitz class carrier USS George Washington, leading a combined battlefleet of 27 vessels. Both carriers conducted cross-decking exercises, which saw US Marine Corps F-35B Lightning II Joint Combat Aircraft operate from HMS Prince of Wales while a British Merlin helicopter operated from the USS George Washington.

TALISMAN SABRE provided some truly impressive sites (do check out as many pictures as you can, they’re great!) and provided British and allied sailors with invaluable experience in conducting large-scale naval operations – an opportunity which does not happen frequently enough.

TALISMAN SABRE is a perfect encapsulation of what CSG2025 is all about. A large-scale military exercise to help hone the skills of the Royal Navy, build relationships with like-minded partners and deepen collaboration with those which the UK may one day find itself fighting alongside, whether in the Euro-Atlantic or the Indo-Pacific. That the Royal Navy’s participation in TALISMAN SABRE will be bookended by a suite of defence diplomacy engagements across the region is testament to the many benefits of CSG2025.

The only complaint one might have is that the readouts did not go into great detail. There are understandable reasons why those involved would not want everything they did – nor where successes or struggles were identified in the process – telegraphed to adversaries. But more detail about what was done, as the French provided for their recent POLARIS 25 exercise (which included a 20 page explainer beforehand as well as providing extensive information to the press) would be beneficial, and not just because this particular navy nerd wants to have data on sortie generation…

Tracking the deployments of the Royal Navy

Key movements:

• HMS Prince of Wales arrived at Darwin, Australia, to much fanfare following her participation in TALISMAN SABRE, making her the first British aircraft carrier to visit an Australian port since 1997.

• HMS St Albans is continuing her long TAPS (Towed-array sonar patrol) deployment in the North Atlantic to monitor Russian submarine activity.

• HMS Spey joined the Japanese Maritime Self-Defence Force to help enforce sanctions against North Korea, a reflection of the wide-ranging utility of the humble Offshore Patrol Vessel.

• HMS Lancaster’s commanding officer took the opportunity to celebrate the ship’s crew for their efforts on Operation KIPION. The ship is expected to depart the Middle East soon with no replacement; a reminder that one can never have enough frigates, and that the Royal Navy has been asked to do a lot with an overstretched frigate fleet. The new Type 31s and Type 26s cannot come soon enough!

Maritime news from allies and adversaries

People’s Republic of China (PRC): Images of a new Ekranoplan being spotted in the PRC has led to a swathe of unanswered questions. An Ekranoplan, also often called a ‘wing-in-ground’ effect aircraft, flies at incredibly low altitudes – just above the surface of the sea. It is not known why the PRC is experimenting with Ekranoplans nor what role the aircraft may fulfil, with special forces transport, maritime patrol or littoral logistics being just some of the potential answers.

Russia: In news which should surprise no one, the Russians are reportedly planning to abandon the refurbishment of their worn out (to put it mildly) aircraft carrier, the Admiral Kuznetsov. Moscow also conducted Exercise JULY STORM, which saw simultaneous activities from its Northern, Baltic and Pacific fleets. JULY STORM involved over 150 warships including auxiliaries, and is a reminder that the Russian naval threat remains serious.

United States: The US has signed a new logistics agreement with Japan and Australia designed to make the resupplying and rearming of US warships forwardly deployed in the Indo-Pacific far easier.

France: The Marine Nationale conducted an impressively large multi-domain exercise known as POLARIS 25, which involved more than 3,000 French and foreign troops, over 20 surface ships and more than 40 aircraft. The aim of the exercise was to be as realistic as possible and to involve stakeholders who do not usually take part; for the first time, the French merchant marine was directly involved. Other countries would do well to implement similar approaches to their own exercises.

Naval technology news

The Peregrine uncrewed rotary-wing aircraft could soon have Martlet Lightweight Multi-role Missiles (LMMs) integrated. Currently, the Peregrine is focused on surveillance roles, and has no armament. It will be able to carry two Martlet missiles. The Martlet is a cost-effective, short-range missile (with a range of roughly eight kilometres) capable of hitting moving targets such as drones both in the air and on the ground. While this would be a welcome boost to the capabilities offered by Peregrine, its overall value add is more limited considering that the Royal Navy’s Wildcat helicopters can carry 20 Martlets.

The Royal Navy has been undertaking ‘groundbreaking’ trials to demonstrate the launch and recovery of uncrewed underwater vehicles from its submarines. This trial, dubbed Project SCYLLA, took place in the Mediterranean, and was conducted through AUKUS Pillar II. The launch of uncrewed systems from torpedo tubes is nothing particularly noteworthy, but demonstrating the ability to recover via torpedo tubes is truly groundbreaking. These trials open a slew of new opportunities for the submarine fleets of the UK, US and Australia in their ability to ‘support underwater reconnaissance, underwater communications and seabed warfare missions’.

Saab and General Atomics are collaborating to develop an uncrewed airborne early warning solution. They have paired the MQ-9B drone with a suite of Saab sensors to offer distributed and persistent options for the airborne early warning mission. Such an approach could be one route which the Royal Navy looks into for improving the airborne early warning capabilities of the air wing for its aircraft carriers.

Who deserves a mention

Earlier this month, Thelma Redman, a Second World War veteran of the Women’s Royal Naval Service (more famously known as the ‘Wrens’), was presented with a letter from the First Sea Lord on her 101st birthday to honour her service.

This serves as an apt opportunity to highlight the role the Wrens played during the war. Although few served at sea, the contribution of the Wrens was significant, both directly in the jobs they did and indirectly in freeing up personnel for frontline service. At its height, 74,000 women were involved in over 200 different jobs. These included telegraphists, electricians and flying transport planes, with some also serving as cryptologists at Bletchley Park. 303 Wrens were killed in wartime service.

It wasn’t until 1990 that the first women went to sea with the Royal Navy, with the Wrens disbanded soon after in 1993 and amalgamated into the Royal Navy. The Wrens of the Second World War stepped up when their country needed them and helped to pave the way for future women dedicated to their naval service (some of whom this author is lucky enough to know).

Our present control of the sea is so absolute that it is sometimes taken for granted.

– Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, US Navy monthly newsletter, March 1948

A reading list on maritime matters

‘NATO Member States’ National Merchant Fleet and Seafarers’ by Nautilus International – a concerning overview of the current limitations facing North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) merchant fleets and the implications for the alliance’s logistics needs.

‘Giving Our “Paper Tiger” Real Teeth’ by Zachary Hughes – exploring the challenge of keeping ‘distributed’ forces supplied in a contested maritime environment and the importance of involving logisticians in defence planning processes (I’ve been very much in a contested logistics mindset recently, if it wasn’t already obvious).

‘Europe and Canada step up naval logistics’ by Johannes R. Fischbach and Louis Bearn for the International Institute of Strategic Studies – very much in keeping with the theme here. This short piece outlines the expansion and modernisation of European and Canadian naval auxiliaries, and includes a special (painful) shoutout to the Royal Fleet Auxiliary’s struggles.

William Freer is Research Fellow in National Security at the Council on Geostrategy.

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