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24 March 2025 | Jennifer Parker Image: Royal Australian Navy Minehunter Coastal HMAS Diamantina anchors in the Derwent River in support of the 186th Royal Hobart Regatta. (Defence Images) The Australian government has said, and frequently reiterated that we are facing our most ‘ complex and challenging  strategic environment since World War II—diplomatic language for a region where conflict is increasingly likely, though not inevitable. That means Australia could soon need the women and men in its Defence Force to defend our vital interests. The real question isn’t whether defence spending is 2 or 3 per cent of GDP but whether our personnel have the capabilities they need. Right now, the answer is no—and we must act accordingly. Many challenges hinder Defence’s ability to respond quickly—from structural issues to slow acquisition processes, committee structures designed for another time and absence of reserve reform. However, inadequate spending remains a significant constraint. It's a common misconception in Australia that defence spending is at record highs . While that may be true in nominal terms, it isn’t when measured relative to GDP, or when you consider the amount of military equipment it can purchase. The cost of military equipment is known to inflate at a higher rate  than the broader economy. A 2006 RAND Corporation study  found that the cost of surface combatant ship costs rose by 10% annually between 1950 and 2000—twice the average inflation rate in the broader economy. Though Australian Defence spending has outpaced broader inflation, it can no longer buy as much military equipment for the same funds as it once did. For the financial year to June 2025, the government has planned to spend $55.7 billion on Defence , covering the Department of Defence, the Australian Signals Directorate and the Australian Submarine Agency. Of that total, $52.6 billion was allocated directly to Defence—nominally the largest allocation in our history. When the 2024–25 budget was announced, the government said it expected the money would represent around 2 percent  of GDP. The plan was for this to grow to 2.4 percent by 2033–34.  If this occurs, it will be a significant investment, but it is unlikely to be enough as most of it will be spent on ships and submarines, leaving little room for anything else. Although assessing defence spending as a share of GDP is imperfect, it remains useful for historical analysis and international comparison. The exact figure for Australia in 2024–25 is 2.01 percent —lower than at any point in the Cold War  era except maybe 1949–50, when the ratio rounded to 2.0 percent. On average, during the Cold War, Australia spent 2.7 percent of GDP on defence. In the 1950s, when regional concerns were high, the average was 3.37 percent. It’s clear that in relative terms Australia isn’t spending at record levels even by Cold War standards on Defence—a reality that sits uneasily with bipartisan statements on the gravity of our strategic situation. After the Cold War, Australia took a peace dividend, dropping defence spending significantly. From 1990 to 2023, it averaged 1.9 percent of GDP  and dipped as low as 1.6 percent in 2013–14. In 2016, when spending reached 2.1 percent of GDP, the government committed to annual increases of 5.0 to 5.5 percent,  but inflation has been high since 2021, strongly eroding  these gains. Despite perceptions of record-high spending, Defence remains largely  on the path set by the 2016 White Paper  nearly a decade ago. This is despite the 2020 Defence Strategic Update  dropping the rolling presumption that conflict would not occur within 10 years, despite the eruption of conflicts in Europe and the Middle East, and despite rising Chinese aggression. According to the 2024–25 Defence budget, the spending trajectory won’t materially change until 2027–28. Although the budget added $5.7 billion  for the period 2024–25 to 2027–28, $3.8 billion  of that won’t arrive until 2027–28 under the current plan. The 2023 Defence Strategic Review  said the ‘ADF’s current force structure is not fit for purpose for our current strategic circumstances’, a point with which the government agreed in its National Defence Strategy statement. Because there’s been no increase in the Defence budget’s purchasing power of military equipment, the only way to improve the immediate force structure has been to cut some capabilities to fund others. The full extent of the 2024 ‘re-prioritisation’ of the Integrated Investment Program  remains unclear. Yet publicly disclosed cuts include cancelling the formerly proposed Joint Support Ship (affecting replenishment and sealift), axing replacement mine warfare vessels (leaving no dedicated mine warfare ship at a time when such threats are expanding), reducing the number of planned infantry fighting vehicles and deferring plans to buy a fourth squadron of F35 fighter aircraft. While it’s wise to ensure the defence capability budget is properly prioritised, it’s difficult to imagine a maritime concept of operations to defend Australia’s vital interests that doesn’t include enhanced replenishment and coastal mine-clearing capabilities. Both examples show these capabilities weren’t cut for having little value but because the budget hadn’t grown to meet the threat outlined in the National Defence Strategy. Meanwhile, other gaps remain across the portfolio—from insufficient counter-drone capabilities and a lack of land-based ballistic missile defence to inadequate guided weapons stocks. This underlines how a constrained budget has left Australia without many defence essentials. While Defence spending is increasing, it isn’t at a historic high when measured in relative terms or the amount of military equipment it can buy, and it certainly isn’t calibrated to our most serious circumstances since World War II. Any debate about whether to spend 2 or 3 per cent of GDP is a distraction; we need to define the capabilities required to safeguard our vital interests, then secure the funding—fast. If we don’t seize this moment, we risk leaving our women and men in uniform without the tools they need when it matters most.

March 13 2024 | Jennifer Parker Image: Department of Defence. Today marks 12 months since the release of the ‘optimal pathway’ Australia needed to follow to acquire a force of nuclear-powered and conventionally-armed attack submarines (SSNs) under the AUKUS agreement with the United States and the UK. The milestone has been marked by claims that domestic budget wrangling in the United States is a profound threat to Australia’s submarine plan with the Biden administration proposing to fund only one Virginia class submarine in fiscal year 2025. Whilst Australia must be alert to US domestic issues that may affect AUKUS, including the looming presidential elections, to boil the agreement down to simple submarine numbers largely misses the point of the agreement and what’s been achieved so far. Although the provision of SSNs to Australia is about capability, it is also about signaling to China that deep-seated US relationships in the region matter and should cause Beijing to think twice about its aggressive activities. AUKUS is just one strand of this network, but it is important to US Indo-Pacific strategy . To renege on the transfer of SSNs to Australia would undermine US credibility and influence in a region with many Southeast Asian states already hedging their bets. There is, of course, an issue with the US submarine industrial base and much of the US wrangling on AUKUS is geared towards gaining more funding for its own industry. Australia is providing $4.5 billion to help the US step up construction. The US Navy currently plans to have a fleet of 355 surface ships and at least 66 SSNs. It currently has 50 SSNs and, as the Los Angeles class submarines are gradually decommissioned, this may dip to 46 in 2030. The US is now building, on average, 1.2 to 1.3 submarines per year. To build up its submarine fleet, it needs to increase that rate to an average two Virginia class submarines a year. This increases to 2.33 boats per year if the US is to provide three SSNs to Australia in the 2030s. Reaching and maintaining that rate will be further complicated by the need to prioritise the building of its seaborne nuclear-deterrent replacement, the Columbia class ballistic missile submarine (SSBN), and addressing the increasing SSN maintenance backlog. But assuming that the US would automatically renege on the deal to sell Virginias to Australia in the 2030s because it may not meet its target of 66 attack submarines in 2053, fundamentally misunderstands the US strategy supporting AUKUS. The US submarine industrial base is a risk, but it is not the sole consideration. Putting US domestic issues aside, there’s much to like about what the AUKUS optimal submarine pathway has achieved in its first year. When the AUKUS plan was announced in September 2021, the lack of detail and consultation on Australia’s intent to acquire SSNs was apparent. Whilst the project has many critics, greater regional acceptance has been signaled by Singapore Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong’s willingness to have Australian SSNs visit his country . When AUKUS was announced, the three partners undertook to outline a detailed plan for Australia to acquire SSNs within 18 months. A year ago the nuclear-powered submarine optimal pathway was announced and set out an effective ‘crawl, walk run’ approach. Phase 1 established submarine rotation force West (SRF-W) with US and UK submarines rotating through HMAS Stirling from 2027. This ‘crawl’ phase would allow Australia to develop the infrastructure, maintenance and stewardship capabilities and skillsets to support nuclear-powered submarines. Australia will acquire three to five Virginia class submarines in the 2030s. This ‘walk’ phase is intended to see Australia operate its capability at a smaller scale before proceeding to the ‘run’ phase and sharing the building of a new SSN with the UK. There’s no denying that this ambitious plan has high degrees of risk—including tumultuous US politics and its lagging submarine industrial base. If it all goes wrong, the age of Australia’s Collins class submarines would expose it to a capability gap. But despite a sparse flow of information, particularly for Australian defence industry, the AUKUS SSN optimal pathway appears to be on track. Having three countries reach agreement on the optimal pathway was no mean feat. Another significant achievement was the establishment of the Australian Submarine Agency. And Australia has focused heavily on training both its naval personnel and the wider defence industry workforce in submarine operations and maintenance. Australian officers are graduating from the US nuclear-powered submarine school, and maintainers are in Guam learning how to maintain SSNs. Perhaps the most significant achievement was US Congress passing the National Defence Authorisation Act (NDAA) in December 2023 authorising the transfer of the three promised Virginias to Australia in the 2030s, the maintenance of US submarines in Australia by Australians, and the training of Australian contractors in US shipyards. It’s not all rosy. Defence agreements of this magnitude never are. The NDAA authorisation of the transfer of course came with caveats, including the requirement for the US president of the day to certify to Congress prior to any transfer that the ‘submarines would be used for joint security interests’ and ‘Australia is ready to support their operations and nuclear power procedures’. This endorsement is not a given. Australia will need to meet an ambitious infrastructure and governance plan to convince the US that it is able to safely operate and maintain the capability. The strategic importance of this agreement is much larger than the issue of the number of attack submarines in the US order of battle, and Australia should not be constantly distracted by US domestic debates over its submarine industrial base. Despite the plan’s risks, a lot has been achieved in 12 months.

14 March 2025 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Sydney Morning Herald on 14 March 2025 I mage: Virginia-class submarine USS Minnesota to come alongside Fleet Base West in Western Australia. Defence Images The world is in a difficult stage of its recent history, and the new United States administration’s change of tack is undeniably jarring. President Trump has re-litigated America’s relationship with Europe through NATO, applied maximum pressure on Ukraine to push it towards negotiations, and said precious little about Russia. Meanwhile, a trade war has kicked off, and Australia’s now facing tariffs on steel and aluminium and maybe more from our closest ally. Does any of this put our alliance with the United States under threat? Absolutely not. Does it change Australia’s plans to acquire nuclear-powered submarines? Again, no. Here’s why. Australia’s defence strategy since World War II has been anchored in its alliance with the United States, formalised in the 1951 ANZUS Treaty . This treaty obliges both nations to “act to meet the common danger” if either is attacked, and it has weathered many tests over the decades – we are, after all, very different countries. Like all critical defence frameworks, it’s rightly attracted public debate about its precise scope. Alliances are built on relationships, history, reliability and trust – not just treaties. Reassessing our strategic underpinnings is healthy, but any review should rest on facts. At this point, there’s no sign the US is an unreliable ally of Australia. In the first 50 days of Trump’s term, senior officials – from the secretary of state to the president himself – have repeatedly underscored Australia’s importance to US security. While the current administration does not necessarily have a consistent view across key players, the endorsement should be comforting to Australia. Some have pointed to diverging US-Europe relations as a red flag, but the US has long urged Europeans to invest more in their own defence – this is hardly new. We may dislike the tone of the current demands, yet they don’t signal unreliability when it comes to the Indo-Pacific. In fact, US officials openly acknowledge that encouraging Europe to handle its own conventional defence allows the US to refocus on deterring conflict with China. That’s where Australia comes in. A century of mateship is a lovely phrase – but that’s not why countries work together. Throughout our alliance, we haven’t agreed on everything, but it’s been rooted in shared strategic interests rather than purely shared values. Those interests are more aligned now than at any time since World War II, given China’s increasingly assertive stance. As for tariffs on Australian steel and aluminium, they’re unwelcome – even unreasonable – but they affect only a small fraction of our exports. This disagreement doesn’t equate to a shaky foundation in our overall defence relationship. The Australia-US alliance extends far beyond economic tiffs or even AUKUS – our plan to acquire nuclear-powered submarines. It supports vital intelligence-sharing and extended nuclear deterrence, critical as China rapidly expands its nuclear arsenal. North Korea has already demonstrated nuclear capabilities. When it comes to AUKUS, calls for a “Plan B” seem off-base. Contingency planning is prudent, of course, but there’s no evidence that AUKUS is going off track. Like any major defence acquisition, it’s complex, and the nuclear dimension adds to the challenge. It will not always go to plan. But the pertinent question isn’t “is it risky?” but “are we managing the risks effectively?” Critics highlight the US submarine industrial base as a weak link. True, America has struggled to meet production targets for Virginia-class subs, and broader shipbuilding delays persist. Yet Australia’s recent $800 million contribution aims to help strengthen that base. The US administration has also proposed an overhaul of maritime industries. Even if progress is slower than planned, there’s little indication that Australia won’t receive three Virginia-class submarines from 2032. All the attention on building two US attack submarines a year is really about meeting the goal of 59 submarines by 2054, not the rate itself . Access to Australian bases outside the range of many Chinese missiles may be the more critical determinant in any Indo-Pacific conflict. Additionally, there’s plenty in AUKUS for the US. Beyond funding and industrial support, having a robust ally in Australia and the geographical access that affords is pivotal to Washington’s strategic aims in the Pacific. If the current US administration is seen as more transactional, it only underscores Australia’s growing strategic value. We should affirm our importance in every discussion with Washington, ensuring mutual benefit remains clear. A final point often overlooked in “Plan B” debates is Australia’s own reliability as a defence partner. We’ve cancelled or scaled back several major projects in recent years – scrapping the French attack sub deal in 2021, reducing Hunter-class frigates, and halving the Arafura Offshore Patrol Vessel program . If we were to walk away from our most important defence project with our most important security partner – absent a major project failure – it would send a strong message that Australia can’t be counted on. That reputation would harm our ability to secure advanced capabilities in our most serious strategic circumstances since World War II. Continuously questioning our strategic foundations is wise, and planning for contingencies is part of good governance. But none of that implies the alliance is unstable or that AUKUS is doomed. So far, the evidence suggests both remain strong. As global stability erodes, a measure of stoicism will serve us better than alarmism. Healthy scepticism is prudent, but catastrophising every US move only casts doubt on our own reliability as an ally and capability partner.

27 February | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Sydney Morning Herald on 27 February 2025 Image: People’s Liberation Army-Navy cruiser Renhai in the Coral Sea. Defence Images. The Chinese naval task group’s deployment in our region is clearly aimed at sending a message and testing Australia’s responses – not only on the military front, but socially and politically. The worst misstep would be to overreact and hand China a propaganda win that could undermine Australia’s legitimate military activities in the South China Sea and North-East Asia. Australia has long thrived on the freedom and prosperity we’ve enjoyed since World War II. Our distance from Europe’s and the Middle East’s flashpoints made conflict seem remote. We’ve ingrained the notion that while our people fight in distant conflicts, the threat never reaches home. Yet the deployment of a Chinese naval task group off our east coast has exposed our vulnerabilities as a maritime nation reliant on trade. While this reality is felt acutely, our proper response is to invest in the ships, aircraft and submarines needed to safeguard our maritime interests – not to manufacture a crisis that undermines our societal resilience and political capacity to respond to genuine challenges. Australia isn’t on a major trade route or a transit point. Naval task groups rarely operate in our region – unless they’re visiting Australia – so a Chinese task group is especially notable. Deployed more than 8000 kilometres from China’s coast, this three-ship task group – including one of the world’s most advanced warships –  was clearly meant to send a message .   Under international law, China’s warships can operate on the high seas (beyond 200 nautical miles from our coast). They can also conduct exercises within Australia’s exclusive economic zone (up to 200 nautical miles from our coast). They can even operate in our territorial sea (within 12 nautical miles of our coast), provided their transit is continuous, expeditious and does not disrupt Australia’s good order. This isn’t legal semantics – it’s a fundamental aspect of the freedom of the seas that Australia regularly exercises through our naval deployments. While it may be surprising to see naval task groups conducting live-fire exercises in our region, warships – including Australia’s – regularly do so on long deployments for training, maintaining skills or myriad other reasons. This is simply what warships do. China’s gunnery firing took place on the high seas, about 640 kilometres (340 nautical miles) from our coast – the distance from Canberra to Melbourne. China is well within its rights to conduct such exercises without informing Australia or New Zealand. While no international law requires it, best practice from having undertaken many gunnery firings at sea is that warships maintain at least 18 kilometres (10 nautical miles) from known civilian air routes during live-fire exercises. Air Services Australia reported that 49 aircraft had to be diverted because of the Chinese warships’ firing exercise. Clearly, these warships were too close to these flight paths. This diversion is a nuisance, but aircraft are routinely diverted for various reasons, and there’s no evidence they were at risk. The Chinese warships’ radars would have continuously tracked the aircraft, ensuring they stopped the gunnery serial if the aircraft approached their safety zone – just as any responsible warship would. Warships should also issue warnings to civilian aircraft and vessels several hours in advance – and at regular intervals – during the exercise. It remains unclear how early Chinese warships issued this warning, but we know from Senate estimates that it was first heard by a Virgin Airlines aircraft 30 minutes after the warships began their drills. The Chinese warships’ close proximity to civilian air routes – and their apparent failure to provide timely warnings – deserves diplomatic rebuke. However, their presence and live-fire exercise on the high seas do not. The freedom of the seas is fundamental to our security as a maritime trading nation. Claims that China’s warships shouldn’t be operating in our exclusive economic zone or conducting live-fire exercises on the high seas undermines this principle, giving China a propaganda win to challenge our necessary deployments to North-East Asia and the South China Sea – routes that carry two-thirds of our maritime trade. This is not a crisis. Treating it as one – with over-the-top indignation – diminishes our capacity to tackle real crises as the region deteriorates. Moreover, since this deployment was meant to test us, it signals to China that we lack societal resilience and a genuine perspective on what is a threat. If the Chinese naval task group deployment is meant to signal that they can operate in our region, sustain a presence and threaten our critical sea supply lines, how should we respond to the vulnerability we’ve felt these past two weeks? We must respond by heeding the message – mitigating our vulnerabilities and investing in our maritime capability. At our most challenging strategic moment since World War II, our current  surface combatant  fleet is the smallest and oldest we’ve had since 1950.   Our warships have limited endurance at sea due to inadequate numbers of replenishment ships, and our ability to protect sea lanes from mines is also limited – to name but a few of our  challenges . We must address this and swiftly, and that means having a hard look at our defence spending.   At only 2 per cent of GDP, defence spending falls well short of our Cold War average of 2.7 per cent. It’s also time to ramp up our industrial capacity and engage in genuine discussions about societal and industrial mobilisation. That means, if we were to be in a conflict, how would we mobilise the civilian population to support our forces and home defence, and how would we mobilise industries to produce what we need to sustain the conflict? We must respond by enhancing our preparedness and military capability, not by handing China a propaganda victory that undermines our ability to tackle real crises and the fundamental principle of freedom of the seas. While conflict in our region isn’t inevitable, the threat is real and demands a measured response underpinned by preparedness, investment and partnerships. Warships have the right to freedom of navigation. Live gunnery firings are common. Overreaction and panic will only undermine our efforts.

23 February 2025 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Australian Financial Review on 23 February 2025 Image: Defence Images From left - People’s Liberation Army-Navy Fuchi-class replenishment vessel Weishanhu, and Renhai-class cruiser Zunyi. To safeguard our vital interests at sea, we must demonstrate self-reliance within our alliances, and develop and resource a comprehensive maritime strategy. China now fields the world’s largest navy, and this week’s rare foray into our exclusive economic zone should be a wake-up call for Australians. Our most critical economic and security interests travel by sea, and in a rapidly deteriorating strategic environment, we can’t afford complacency . It’s time for Australia to step up as a genuine maritime power. Over the last decade, China has morphed from a modest coastal navy into a true blue-water force. In 2015, the People’s Liberation Army Navy’s battle force – submarines, surface combatants and aircraft carriers – stood at 255 vessels, according to the US Congressional Research Office. That figure has soared to 400 in 2025, with further growth on the horizon. The fleet’s quality has also jumped, with around 70 per cent of China’s current battle force built since 2010. Australia’s navy fields just 16 battle-force vessels – its smallest and oldest in decades. That includes six submarines aged 22 years to 29 years, seven ANZAC-class frigates (19 years to 27 years old), and three much newer Hobart-class destroyers that lack the firepower of true destroyers. While the government plans to grow the fleet to levels not seen in decades by the 2030s and 2040s, the current shortfall is compounded by dwindling support capabilities – like replenishment, hydrography and mine warfare – after decades of underinvestment by successive governments. Comparing ship counts alone may be crude, but it highlights China’s drive to become a true blue-water maritime power. Its rapid fleet expansion goes hand in hand with sweeping structural reforms, including the creation of a coast guard in 2013 – now the world’s largest maritime law enforcement outfit, boasting over 142 vessels. Among them is the so-called “monster ship”, Coast Guard 5901 – nearly four times the size of Australia’s ANZAC-class frigates, which form the backbone of our surface combatant fleet. T he growth and modernisation of China’s navy has gone hand-in-hand with an increasingly expeditionary strategy. Chinese naval deployments to the Indian and Pacific oceans are on the rise, marked by the establishment of a naval base in Djibouti in 2017 and increasingly common Pacific port visits, including stops in Vanuatu and Papua New Guinea as well as hospital ship deployments to the South Pacific. Against this backdrop, Australia shouldn’t be shocked to see a Chinese navy task group off our east coast. It’s rightly considered an uncommon occurrence, particularly since Australia’s east coast isn’t exactly on the way to anywhere – making it clear this was a deliberate show of capability. But we should expect it to become increasingly common. Why should Australia care about China’s growing naval and maritime power? Because our core vulnerabilities lie at sea. Some 99 per cent of our trade travels by ship, and 99 per cent of our data travelling to the rest of the world passes through undersea cables. But it’s not just about data and trade – it’s the critical goods that keep our economy running and ensure our security, from fuel and ammunition to pharmaceuticals and fertiliser. Cut off those supplies, and we cripple our economy and security – no fuel means grounded F-35s and idle trucks nationwide. In a crisis or conflict, an adversary wouldn’t need to invade our shores to bring Australia’s economy – and by extension, our defence – to its knees. All they’d have to do is cut off our critical seaborne supplies: fuel, fertiliser, ammunition, pharmaceuticals, and more. In a rapidly deteriorating strategic environment, Australia must be able to defend its maritime domain. Recognising this vulnerability means Australia must develop the capacity to protect critical seaborne supplies in a crisis. It demands focus, structural reform, speed and investment. The 2021 announcement of AUKUS (our nuclear-powered submarine pathway), the planned surface combatant fleet expansion, and the army’s move to adopt maritime strike are all crucial steps, but they aren’t enough – we must address the wider gaps in the fleet, and do it at speed. We must recognise that maritime capability isn’t just hardware – it’s also structure and mindset. We need to reform our civil maritime security, establish a coastguard to free the Royal Australian Navy from border policing, and adjust our legislative architecture to build a genuinely capable maritime strategic fleet. Australia shouldn’t – and can’t – hope to match China’s naval might. Our maritime strategy hinges on alliances and partnerships across the region, including deeper co-operation with partners like the United States, Japan, and India. Yet to safeguard our vital interests at sea, we must demonstrate self-reliance within our alliances – we must develop a comprehensive maritime strategy and resource it. China’s naval demonstration on Australia’s east coast should serve a reminder of our vulnerability, and a warning that addressing this vulnerability requires Australia to truly recognise its place as a maritime power – our future prosperity and security depend on it.

23 February 2025 | Jennifer Parker Image: Defence Images Royal Australian Navy sailors on HMAS Arunta keeping watch on People's Liberation Army-Navy (PLA-N) Fuchi-class replenishment vessel Weishanhu and Jiangkai-class frigate Hengyang in the Tasman Sea. Summary points: Chinese Task Group 107’s deployment to the Tasman Sea is a deliberate show of operational capability in the region, and Australia should head the message. Live firing exercises on the high seas are standard training practices permitted under international law. Australia does this on our deployments, and we should avoid over-reacting. It’s not aggressive, it’s just what warships do on the high seas. There is no legal obligation for foreign warships to notify coastal nations over 300 nautical miles away about live firing activities on the high seas. Best practices require maintaining safe distances from civilian flight paths, implementing defined safety traces, and issuing proper communications. While China’s manoeuvre underscores its blue-water capabilities, Australia should focus on addressing its naval capability gaps rather than overreacting to this event. An over-reaction hands China an unnecessary propaganda win next time Australia conducts live firings on the high seas while deployed, and may constrain our own training opportunities in the future. Over the weekend, media coverage  was dominated by reports of Chinese Task Group 107 stationed roughly 640 kilometres  (348 nautical miles) off Australia’s coast. China’s rare deployment to our region—without stopping in Australia or New Zealand and far removed from major maritime routes—appears to be a deliberate display of its capability to deploy and sustain operations here. While concerns about China’s expanding naval might, especially in the South China Sea and East Asia, are valid, Australia should keep this ‘live firing activity’ in perspective. Here’s why. Incident Overview On Thursday 13 February, the Australian government  announced that a Chinese naval task group—comprising a Jiangkai II frigate, a Renhai cruiser, and a tanker—was operating in the Coral Sea, with one of the vessels having transited the Torres Strait. Officials were quick to emphasize that the group was acting in accordance with international law. On 20 February, the Financial Times  reported the task group had turned south and was roughly 150 nautical miles (approximately 278 kilometres) from Sydney, roughly the distance from Canberra to Sydney. By Friday 21 February, it was about 640 kilometres  (approx. 345 nautical miles) off Eden (roughly the distance from Canberra to Melbourne), issuing radio warnings of an imminent live-fire exercise and reportedly adopting a ‘firing formation’—likely formation one, in which ships align in a straight column to deploy a target. The media reported that flights had to be diverted  and the Australian government initially expressed that they had not received the required warning. Maritime Law and Sovereign Rights Under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea  (UNCLOS), which entered into force in 1994, coastal states may claim various maritime zones. Two zones are relevant here: the territorial sea and the exclusive economic zone (EEZ). Generally, a state’s territorial sea extends 12 nautical miles (approx. 22km) from its coastline, though overlaps can occur with other countries reducing this. Coastal states have the ability to regulate activities in territorial sea. Foreign ships, including warships have the right to transit through the territorial sea under the ‘ innocent passage’  regime, foreign ships may transit this zone without prior permission, as long as they do nothing to threaten the security of the coastal state and their passage is continuous and expeditious. In practical terms, warships retain the right of innocent passage but may not conduct live-fire exercises, or similar activities without the coastal state’s explicit approval. The Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) is the second maritime area of interest and has featured prominently in recent media coverage. Generally, the EEZ extends up to 200 nautical miles (Approx. 370 kilometres) from a state’s coast, unless it overlaps with another country’s zone. Within its EEZ, coastal states, including Australia exercise certain sovereign rights—particularly for resource management—but they do not enjoy full sovereignty. Crucially, foreign warships may operate within Australia’s EEZ so long as they do not interfere with its resource-related activities or infrastructure. Importantly, warships may conduct exercises, including gunnery drills, within the EEZ—a right Australia itself exercises. Beyond the EEZ (beyond 200 nautical miles) lie the high seas, where only limited restrictions on warships apply—most of which are not relevant here. Essentially, warships may conduct exercises, including gunnery drills, as long as they do not interfere with others’ lawful use of the sea or airspace. The Routine of Live-Firing Exercises The key point is that these live firing gunnery drills happen routinely. Australian ships, for example, perform live firing during deployments commonly to train crews and maintain proficiency with their gunnery systems. For the Chinese task group, these guns range from medium-range guns—like the 130 mm (5-inch) gun on China’s Renhai cruiser or the 76 mm gun on the Jiangkai II—to close-in weapon systems, 12.7 mm guns, and small arms. Importantly, warships have the right to undertake these routine drills on the high seas. Best Practices for Gunnery Drills Safety Protocols and Monitoring Procedures vary by country, but from my experience conducting medium-range gunnery exercises in two different navies, each commanding officer is responsible for safe execution. This typically involves both visual and radar monitoring of a defined ‘safety trace,’ whose range and altitude depend on the weapon system and the Navy in question's safety rules. For a 130 mm (5 inch) gun like the Renhai’s, for instance, the weapon’s maximum range of about 23 km (12.5 nautical miles) might be extended by a 2,000-yard safety buffer, plus a 4,000-yard corridor on either side, up to around 37,000 feet to generate a safety trace. The height of the safety trace will be dependant on the weapon and the range of the target they are firing at. These figures are merely illustrative; each navy applies its own safety rules. Civilian airliners typically cruise at around 35,000 feet—a range that can overlap with a warship's safety trace. This underscores the importance of planning to ensure that vessels maintain a safe distance from established civilian flight routes. Maintaining Distance from Civilian Flight Routes When planning a gunnery exercise, best practice is for ships to conduct it away from known civilian flight paths. The exact distance varies by national regulations, but for a medium-calibre weapon, a 10-nautical-mile buffer was standard for medium range guns in my own gunnery days. Although the details remain unclear, indications from flight diversions suggest that the Chinese warships may have been too close to civilian air transit routes. If this is the case, it represents poor practice that warrants diplomatic discussion. Effective Communications and Notifications Before commencing live firings, warships should transmit a secure message on the designated VHF channel for surface ships and the aviation guard circuit. The aviation guard circuit—set at 121.5 MHz for civilian use (International Air Distress or VHF Guard)—is reserved exclusively for distress communications and is actively monitored by air traffic control and related agencies. Ships will also fly Flag Bravo—a red-dovetail flag—to signal to nearby vessels and aircraft that live firing is in progress. Prior to live firing, a warning should be broadcast to alert nearby aircraft, with periodic updates during the exercise. According to the Defence Minister , the Chinese warships did issue such notifications. The timing of these alerts depend on a Navy’s procedures, but issuing them a few hours in advance is generally prudent. It should be noted that there is no requirement to notify a country 345 nautical miles away about such live firing. While Australian ships inform air services 48 hours in advance—who produce a Notice to Airmen NOTAM)—when exercising in domestic waters, no such mandate applies to foreign vessels operating on the high seas. Conclusion: Focusing on Capabilities Warships routinely conduct live firing exercises on the high seas to maintain training and operational readiness. The Chinese task group’s recent manoeuvres occurred well outside Australia’s EEZ—approximately 640 km (345 nautical miles) from the coast. While there is some evidence that these firings may have encroached on civilian flight routes, details remain unclear; if confirmed, interference with civilian air traffic would merit diplomatic discussion. Importantly, there is no requirement for foreign vessels on the high seas to notify a nation 345 nautical miles away of their activities. Australia should indeed be concerned about China’s demonstrated capability to deploy and sustain a task group in the Tasman Sea. However, rather than overreacting to actions that align with international law and standard gunnery practices—thus providing additional propaganda fodder for Beijing—we must focus on what this blue-water capability means for our own maritime security. It is time to seriously invest in and address the evident capability gaps in our navy.

13 February | Jennifer Parker * Originally published in ASPI's The Strategist on 12 February 2025 Image of HMAS Hobart: Daniel Goodman/Department of Defence . Attack missile boats are no substitutes for the Royal Australian Navy’s major warships, contrary to the contention of a 4 February 2025 Strategist article . The ships are much more survivable than attack boats and can perform long-range operations that small vessels cannot. In the article, the author argues, for example, that a single missile hit could cripple a billion-dollar warship. In fact, this is highly unlikely. The planning for the number, type and direction of travel of missiles needed to successfully engage a warship is a tactical art. The calculations are classified, but the Salvo Equation is an unclassified means of understanding how many missiles must be fired to damage a major warship, such as a destroyer or frigate. The number is greater than most people assume. The debate on warship survivability isn’t new, and it remains paper-thin. Warships are designed to float, move and fight. As the RAN’s Sea Power Centre describes , they are survivable ‘through layered defence systems, signature management, structural robustness and system redundancy’. Just because a missile is fired doesn’t mean it will strike, and even a strike doesn’t ensure the ship is disabled. It’s true that threats to warships close to coasts have increased, and the proliferation of uncrewed aerial vehicle, uncrewed surface vessels and anti-ship missiles has made operations more complex. However, as offensive threats evolve, so do defensive capabilities, tactics and procedures. This is the dance of naval warfare. To bolster the flawed claim that warships are ‘increasingly vulnerable in modern conflicts’, the article points to the 42-year-old, poorly maintained Russian cruiser Moskva , which Ukraine sank in the Black Sea in 2022, as a ‘most advanced warship’. Yet far more modern US, British and French warships have repelled more than 400 Houthi missile attacks in the Red Sea since 2023 without sustaining damage. Fourteen months of Red Sea operations show that well-armed warships with trained crews are highly effective. The article conflates strategy with concepts, saying ‘the urgency of shifting Australia’s naval strategy to distributed lethality cannot be overstated’. Think of a naval strategy as the big-picture plan for what a nation aims to achieve at sea with its naval capability (as opposed to maritime), while a naval concept is the theoretical framework that explains how its navy might actually fight and operate to achieve those goals. ‘Distributed lethality’ fits within the established concept of Distributed Maritime Operations , which isn’t about any particular category of vessel, large or small; it’s a way of fighting that emphasises massed effects through robust, networked communications that allow for dispersal of maritime units. At its core, it’s a network-centric, not platform-centric, concept—as applicable to a fleet of frigates and destroyers as to smaller craft. It’s a concept the RAN, at least in theory, has already embraced. In a 2024 speech on Distributed Maritime Operations, Fleet Commander Rear Admiral Chris Smith said ‘distribution as a core concept of our operations … seeks to manage a defensive problem while seizing an offensive opportunity’. Australian naval strategy: reach and balance In advocating for a shift towards attack boats, the article dismisses their limited range and endurance as problems that are easily fixed. They are not: range and endurance are fundamental to Australia’s naval strategy and central to the concept of reach. At its core, reach is the requirement for a maritime power to be able to protect its vital interests at range from its territory. As an island nation dependent on long sea lines of communication for essential seaborne supply—from fuel to fertiliser, ammunition and pharmaceuticals—Australia needs an ability to protect critical imports and exports. Doing that requires the combination of sensors and weapons that cannot fit into an attack boat: heavy and bulky towed-array sonars, large radars mounted high, long-range air-and-missile defence systems, and helicopters for hunting submarines. Acceptance that Australia’s vital interests at sea are far from its coast is inherent in the roles ascribed in Australia’s National Defence Strategy . They include power projection, such as the capabilities of the Australian Army’s new amphibious fleet, which require protection that attack boats can’t provide. Limited endurance and operational range are deficiencies that cannot be mitigated by basing in northern Australia, as the article suggests. Territorial force posture such as northern operating bases cannot transform coastal green-water naval assets such as attack boats into the open ocean blue-water capability Australia requires. Another key strategic requirement for Australia is having a balanced fleet, anchored by larger destroyers and frigates. The essence of the idea of a balanced fleet is that a smaller fleet of ships must operate across the spectrum of maritime tasks. Attack boats cannot fight effectively in all three spheres of maritime warfare: surface, air and sub-surface. While they may complement frigates and destroyers where the budget allows, they are unsuitable to form the backbone of Australia’s fleet. The call for such vessels falls into the common trap of thinking that modern naval warfare is simply about missile capability. But what is needed to constitute a balanced fleet is a mix of capabilities that can be brought together only in a frigate or larger ship. This debate is an opportunity to highlight a crucial issue often overlooked in Australian strategic thought. The country needs a naval strategy with genuine reach and a balanced fleet, capabilities that simply can’t be met by a force built around attack boats.

3 February 2025 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Australian on 3 February 2025 Image: Image of Miraflores Locks on the Panama Canal: Rikin Kaytal/Unsplash . Donald Trump’s foreign policy priorities are coming into sharp focus: shoring up economic security, bolstering national security, and sending a clear signal to America’s allies and partners. One of those partners is Panama, a small Central American nation that happens to control one of the world’s most vital maritime passages. Of the many Trump proclamations this week, this is one that Australia, as a maritime nation, should pay attention too. Built by the United States in 1904 to connect the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, the 82km Panama Canal now handles around 6 per cent of global trade and 40 per cent of US container trade, underscoring its importance to both American interests and the global economy. As a nation heavily reliant on seaborne trade, Australia is particularly vulnerable to disruptions in global shipping routes. Consequently, even though only a small portion of its maritime trade travels through the Panama Canal, further disruptions to the Panama Canal would have an impact on the price of goods in Australia as the global supply chain would have to respond to the constriction of another key waterway. The Reserve Bank in its August 2024 report on monetary policy noted the maritime trade freight costs had risen sharply in 2024 – this is predominantly as a result conflict in the Red Sea and a reduction in capacity of the Panama Canal due to drought. While the Reserve Bank stated that increased freight costs haven’t translated into higher goods inflation in Australia, if sustained, it could – demonstrating the impact to disruption of maritime trade on Australia’s economy. So, what exactly are Trump’s proclamations? He has threatened to seize back the Panama Canal – by force if necessary – claiming it’s under the control of Chinese soldiers and that Panama is gouging US ships with exorbitant transit fees. While his claims are demonstrably false, his underlying concern is not misplaced. Maritime infrastructure is crucial to the economic and national security of countries such as Australia and the US. Australia learned this lesson too late in 2015 when it rashly leased the Port of Darwin to Landbridge, a Chinese-owned company, for 99 years. Much as Darwin is vital to Australia’s security, the Panama Canal remains critical to America’s. The Panama Canal has been fully owned by the Republic of Panama since 1999, when the US transferred control under two treaties, one of which was a treaty of neutrality, requiring the canal to remain in neutral hands – stating that if it did not, the US reserved the right to defend the canal with military force. Despite the canal being under Panamanian control, companies from China and Hong Kong have acquired key port facilities on both its Pacific and Atlantic entrances. On the Atlantic side, China-based Landbridge Group, the firm that leased Australia’s Darwin Port, took control of Margarita Island, Panama’s largest port. Meanwhile, Hong Kong-owned CK Hutchison Holdings – which wholly owns Hutchison Ports Australia, operator of terminals in Sydney and Brisbane – holds concessions to operate the ports of Balboa and Cristobal, the canal’s major Pacific and Atlantic gateways. While CK Hutchison Holdings is Hong Kong-owned, the national security laws that were introduced in Hong Kong in 2020 could allow China to exercise influence over these ports. China’s national security laws can require companies, including Hong Kong companies, to assist the Chinese government in in­telligence gathering and military operations. This means that even though China does not directly control the Panama Canal, it still holds significant sway at both its Pacific and Atlantic entrances. Coupled with a major uptick in Chinese investment in Panama – underscored by Panama’s decision to join China’s Belt and Road Initiative in 2018 – this port ownership provides China with a strategic foothold in the region, and specifically at ­either end of the canal. This is part of a broader trend of Chinese investment in maritime trade routes, including in the Indian Ocean – think Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Pakistan, to name a few. This foothold grants China significant influence over the Strait of Malacca, the Strait of Hormuz, and other vital shipping lanes in the region. China has poured resources into Pacific ports, such as those in the Solomon Islands. The point is that China is investing heavily in infrastructure that underpins global maritime trade. Under its national security laws, the companies driving these investments – some of which are state owned or have close ties to the Communist Party – could be compelled to use them for intelligence gathering or even military purposes. In the event of heightened strategic competition or conflict, these investments would allow for the targeted constriction of maritime trade to countries such as the US and Australia. Despite Trump’s threats, it’s unlikely the US would opt to take the canal by force. But Australia should take notice. While Trump’s claims of Chinese soldiers controlling the Panama Canal are false, the concern over China’s increased control of port infrastructure globally, including at each end of the canal, should generate concern for a maritime trading nation such as Australia.

06 January 2025 | Jennifer parker *Originally published in The Australian on 6 January 2025 Image: HMAS Stalwart replenishing HMAS Brisbane in the Philippine Sea in 2023: Daniel Goodman/Department of Defence . The past year brought a renewed focus on Australia’s deteriorating security situation and maritime capability. Despite the maritime emphasis in Australia’s 2024 defence announcements, the country remains far from being adequately positioned to defend its extensive sea lines of communication, subsea cables and broader national interests at sea. With a federal election approaching, the next Australian government must invest in our navy, address the capability gaps and make timely decisions on future capability. In the past 12 months, the oceans on which we depend for our protection and prosperity have experi­enced a dramatic deteriora­tion in security terms, unseen in recent decades. Globally, from the Black Sea to the Red Sea, maritime trade is under pressure. Europe has experienced further attacks on critical maritime infrastructure , including subsea cables – the backbone of internet connectivity. Closer to home, we’ve witnessed escalating aggression from China’s coastguard, which regularly has attacked Philippine vessels in the West Philippine Sea . Australian sailors have been placed at risk, most recently when a People’s Liberation Army aircraft inexplicably deployed flares in front of an Australian helicopter operating in international airspace. This is not simply a canary in the coalmine; it means the breakdown of global norms. If a conflict arises in the Indo-Pacific, it will be inherently maritime in nature and we will be compelled to fight with the capabilities we currently possess. In February 2024, the government announced a historic expansion of the surface combatant fleet; the destroyers and frigates of the Royal Australian Navy equipped with offensive and defensive weapons including missiles and torpedoes. But this expansion is not expected to materialise until the 2030s. During the past 12 months there has been an integration of new missile capabilities in the navy’s small fleet. Announcements have included the acceleration of ships for the army, and key achievements in training, treaties and export controls to support Australia’s acquisition of nuclear-powered submarines. In fact, 38 per cent of Defence’s Integrated Investment Program across the next decade will be directed towards maritime capabilities. These developments are positive, but they have not shifted the needle in the near term to address Australia’s vulnerabilities in the maritime domain. Australia’s surface combatant fleet has been reduced from 11 to 10 with the decommissioning of HMAS Anzac because of its age. The mine-hunting fleet also has been diminished , leaving only two vessels remaining after a mid-year decision to cancel their replacements. Australia’s two tankers – critical for replenishing fuel, food and ammunition for naval ships – have been laid up for most of 2024 because of defects. Additionally, much of Australia’s hydrographic capability, vital for surveying beneath the surface of the water, has been decommissioned, leaving only one ship in operation. The list goes on. These issues are the product of decades of delayed and indecisive decision-making, compounded by a lack of investment. The increasing frequency of attacks in the maritime domain, coupled with the absence of strategic warning time for a potential regional conflict, highlights the urgent need to address Australia’s waning maritime power. This is not simply a nice-to-have but an essential requirement for an island nation when global security norms are being redefined. In 2025 a timely decision on Australia’s future frigate design will be critical to achieving the planned 2029 delivery of the first of 11 frigates. This decision must prioritise the option that minimises delivery risks, ensures operational capability by 2029 – or sooner – maximises commonality with existing Australian systems and offers the design flexibility to accommodate future upgrades. We must be even bolder than this. While the thought of another review may make us groan, the next government must conduct a thorough assessment of our broader naval and maritime capabilities. If we acknowledge that we’re not currently equipped to protect our trade routes or subsea cables, we must critically examine the composition of the wider fleet – not just the surface combatants but also our mine warfare, hydrographic, amphibious, replenishment and clearance diving capabilities. Finally, we must confront the difficult conversation about investing to deliver these capabilities at speed. While the current government has made the first substantial increase to the defence budget in nearly a decade – projecting defence spending to rise from the current 2 per cent of GDP to 2.4 per cent by the end of the next decade – this will not be enough to revitalise our defence, particularly our naval capabilities. During the Cold War, Australia consistently spent an average of 2.7 per cent of GDP on defence, with spending exceeding that level during major naval recapitalisation efforts. If Australia is truly facing its most complex and challenging strategic environment since World War II, as outlined in the 2024 National Defence Strategy, we cannot afford to continue underinvesting.

30 November 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in the Australian Financial Review on 30 November 2024 While the relationship must progress, glossing over the facts and real risks is dangerous – Canberra and Beijing are far from ready for closer defence ties. Image: I mage: Anthony Albanese /X. On the tenth anniversary of the Australia-China comprehensive strategic partnership this week, Chinese ambassador to Australia Xiao Qian praised recent improvements in bilateral ties, declaring the relationship “back on track”, and advocating for closer defence co-operation. This call to restore defence ties is unrealistic at best. At worst, it ignores the realities of the relationship. While China has lifted most of its coercive tariffs on Australian industries , its regional aggression and support for Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine preclude a renewed defence partnership. The relationship must progress, but glossing over the facts and real risks is dangerous. Australia and China are far from ready for a closer defence relationship. Such relationships require strategic trust and China’s actions erode rather than build it. Globally, China continues to enable Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine through its no-limits partnership – trade between China and Russia is at an all-time high. Regionally, China continues to destabilise the South China Sea through aggressive tactics, including ramming and water-cannoning the Philippine Coast Guard and government vessels. China is crucial to Australia. It is both our largest trading partner and a regional great power. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, Australian strategists embraced the idea of China’s peaceful rise and dedicated significant effort to building strategic trust and strengthening ties, including in defence. While the defence relationship was never comprehensive, it grew through collaboration in humanitarian disaster relief exercises, low-level land-based activities and increased naval ship visits. This activity culminated in China’s participation in Exercise Kakadu, Australia’s premier multilateral maritime exercise in 2017. This increased interaction was underpinned by senior-level defence dialogues. Shifting strategic environment In the early 2000s, Australia was optimistic about the future of its relationship with China, This optimism led Australia to overlook China’s island-building activities in the South China Sea and the subsequent militarisation of these islands with airstrips, radars, and missile sites from 2013 to 2018. All of this occurred despite President Xi Jinping’s assurances that China would not militarise the South China Sea, through which two-thirds of Australia’s maritime trade transits. For some time, Australia was reluctant to acknowledge the shifting strategic environment and avoided publicly addressing China’s actions even as Australian ships, along with those of our partners and allies, faced growing harassment. Australia also endured foreign interference and suspected cyberattacks from China. Ultimately, Australia was compelled to confront China’s regional aggression, which directly impacted its national interests and undermined institutions it has long championed, including international maritime law. The 2020 Defence Strategic Update identified China’s regional actions as a dramatic shift in the threat environment. It eliminated strategic warning time from defence planning, acknowledging that Australia could no longer assume it would have at least a decade to reorder our defence posture. This implicitly – although not explicitly – acknowledged the risk of miscalculation or conflict driven by China’s aggression. After years of deterioration Australia publicly revealed China’s harassment of Australian Defence Force assets in 2022. In February of that year, a Chinese fighter jet deployed chaff in front of the engines of an Australian patrol aircraft in international airspace over the South China Sea. In May 2022, a Chinese destroyer in the Arafura Sea, within Australia’s exclusive economic zone, endangered ADF personnel by shining a military-grade laser into the cockpit of an Australian P-8 maritime patrol aircraft. These actions continued to erode strategic trust – and risk ADF lives. Relations thaw After winning the 2022 federal election, the Labor government prioritised re-engagement, recognising the relationship’s importance and the need to prevent further deterioration. This was a vital step – Australia must maintain a functional relationship with China where it can. However, we cannot ignore actions that threaten our national interests. After relations thawed in late 2022, Australia and China resumed defence ties with the Senior Leader Defence Co-operation Dialogue in March last year. In November, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese visited China, the first Australian leader to do so since 2016. In his meeting with Xi, the two reaffirmed their commitment to the Comprehensive Strategic Partnership and stressed the importance of stability in their bilateral relationship. Yet within a month, a Chinese destroyer aggressively confronted an Australian frigate in international waters, violating international law and injuring Australian sailors. This behaviour is not an anomaly. In May this year, a Chinese fighter again endangered Australian sailors by deploying flares in front of HMAS Hobart’s helicopter while it was undertaking United Nations sanctions enforcement against North Korea in international airspace, later blaming Australia for the incident. Chinese officials often frame challenges in the China-Australia relationship as driven by third parties, particularly the United States . However, China’s use of force to uphold its debunked nine-dash line claims against coastal states like the Philippines directly impacts Australia’s national interests. In many ways, closer Australian defence ties with China would be seen to endorse these behaviours – something Australia cannot afford to do. Closer to home – China’s actions towards Australia must be addressed and amended for closer defence ties – an outcome not yet apparent. While increased communication and the resumption of talks through the Defence Co-operation Dialogue are valuable, a mature relationship requires China to change its behaviour – until then, the notion of a “back on track” defence relationship ignores the serious strategic challenges posed by China’s actions.

25 November 2024 | Jennifer Parker *Originally published in The Strategist on 25 November 2024 Image: HMAS Larrakia in Darwin Harbour: Leo Baumgartner/Department of Defence . The maritime domain is increasingly contested. From attacks on shipping and undersea cables in Europe to grey zone threats in the South China Sea, risks to maritime security are mounting. China’s use of maritime militias and reports last week of a China-flagged tanker breaking subsea cables highlight the blurred lines between civil and military threats. With the third-largest exclusive economic zone in the world, Australia must ask itself the question: is our maritime security architecture ready to deal with the increased threats? My new paper Time for a Coastguard with the Australian Naval Institute argues it is not and it’s time to consider setting up an Australian coastguard. Australia differs from many of its Southeast Asian, Indian Ocean and Pacific neighbours in not having a coastguard. Several agencies execute Australia’s civil maritime functions. Notably, the Australian Maritime Safety Authority coordinates Australia’s maritime search and rescue functions, while the Maritime Border Command (MBC) coordinates and executes Australia’s civil maritime security operations. MBC is a multi-agency taskforce under the Department of Home Affairs that relies on Australian Defence Force and Australian Border Force (ABF) assets in executing its role. Importantly, the MBC does not have its own assets or personnel; instead, its structure relies on support from the relevant maritime security agencies. This is an important distinction, as the MBC is often referred to as ‘like a coastguard’ or a ‘de facto coastguard’. However, the similarities are limited: it is fundamentally a coordination body. Staffed primarily by personnel from the ADF and ABF, the MBC directs assets from those forces. The Defence Strategic Review recommended that ‘Defence should be the force of last resort for domestic aid to the civil community, except in extreme circumstances.’ Relying on the ADF for maritime constabulary work is another example of resorting to it for civil functions. The ABF maritime unit workforce is about 550 personnel, and it presently has 11 patrol vessels, one large-hull vessel and two fast-response boats. To assist in its maritime surveillance role, the ABF leases 10 Dash 8 aircraft and two helicopters. This is a small civil maritime footprint for a country with the third-largest exclusive economic zone in the world. There have been reports of billion-dollar warships being used for constabulary functions. The MBC drawing on Royal Australian Air Force aircraft is just as inappropriate—for example, when $250 million P-8A Poseidon aircraft designed for anti-submarine warfare are needed for supplementing ABF aerial surveillance. Not only is this uneconomical, but it will not be feasible in the event of regional crisis or conflict. The National Defence Strategy is clear that the ADF must be focused on high-end warfighting. Compounding the MBC’s over-reliance on the ADF is the structure and capabilities of the ABF’s maritime element, which has regularly struggled to meet government-directed targets for sea patrol days and aerial surveillance hours, among other issues. Maritime security trends in the region suggest these pressures will only intensify, placing more strain on the current structure. The ABF, as a law enforcement organisation, has been unable to develop the expertise needed to maintain maritime capabilities and execute complex maritime operations. In most regional countries, these responsibilities fall to a coastguard paramilitary organisation. Despite the secrecy surrounding Australia’s maritime border operations, there has been enough anecdotal media reporting to show that the structure has not worked effectively. This includes reporting on concerns around professionalism , maintenance issues and capacity . The ABF is a civilian law enforcement organisation that lacks the capability, flexibility and training to manage the nature of grey zone and hybrid maritime threats that Australia will likely face. This is a different level of threat than traditional law enforcement and will require different capabilities and skillsets. The answer is not simply bolstering the maritime unit of the ABF through increased funding. The structures of the ABF maritime unit are not such that they could readily support such an increase in capability, as it was not designed or trained to undertake the full burden of civil maritime security roles in the absence of the ADF. The MBC multi-agency command structure relies on ADF skillsets that could not easily be replaced by a bolstered ABF maritime unit. A complete restructure would be required—a coastguard. Given the reduction in warning time for crises and the increasing complexity of maritime security threats, it is time to rethink Australia’s maritime security structure. My paper Time for a Coastguard advocates for a layered defence model, including the establishment of a coastguard to address Australia’s civil maritime security and maritime home defence. This would enhance our capabilities while relieving pressure on the RAN and ADF. We must address Australia’s maritime security structural issues now to strengthen our maritime resilience.

5 November | 2024 *Originally published in The Strategist on 5 November 2024 Image: ADF Careers bus: Department of Defence . The Australian Defence Force is missing an opportunity in shifting the focus of its recruitment drive away from the three armed services and onto the ADF as a whole. By doing so, it’s failing to make use of services’ separate traditions as attractions to potential recruits. The former chief of the defence force General Angus Campbell told Senate estimates in February that the ADF was 4,308 personnel below its approved strength. In that context, ADF Careers in July launched its new recruitment campaign — Unlike any other job. Spruiking the benefits of joining the ADF, the flashy campaign splashed across social media. But there’s a problem: people don’t join the ADF; they join one of the services. They join either the Royal Australian Navy, Australian Army or Royal Australian Air Force, each of which has unique traditions, service life and a proud history of defending Australia. The recent career advertisements, while slick and well produced, fail to tap into the core motivations that have driven Australians to serve for generations. Joining the navy, army or air force isn’t just a career move; it’s a commitment to a legacy of service and sacrifice. The July 2024 ADF careers campaign came 12 months after the decision to rebrand recruiting from service specific—navy, army, air force recruiting—to ADF Careers. The amalgamation of the service recruiting functions, while an efficient use of resources, represents a wider trend within the Department of Defence of reducing the influence of the individual services. The erosion of the authority of the service chiefs has added to a more bureaucratic structure and slower decision-making. But it’s the loss of service identity in the recruiting process that will be most problematic for an ADF attempting to grow to its greatest numbers since World War II. This issue is not without precedent. The Canadian Armed Forces, in a well-meaning effort to streamline and modernise, unified the navy, army and air force into a single entity in 1968. The result was a loss of identity and tradition, which contributed to a decline in morale and recruitment. It took Canada more than four decades to reverse that decision; it officially reinstated separate branches in 2011. The lesson is clear: when military institutions distance themselves from their traditions and core values, they risk losing the very qualities that attract people to service in the first place. Australia’s military has, until now, been largely immune to such missteps. The navy has its proud maritime legacy linked to battles such as the Leyte Gulf or Savo Island, the army its deep ties to land campaigns such as Gallipoli and Kokoda, and the air force its history of contributing to air superiority in theatres ranging from Europe to the Pacific. Those traditions are not just history; they’re living parts of what it means to serve. While it’s important for the ADF to adapt to modern challenges, it must do so without losing the traditions that make each service unique. The recruitment shortfall in the ADF today isn’t due to a lack of attractive offers. Defence salaries are competitive, benefits are strong and the opportunities for career advancement are significant. But none of that will resonate with young Australians if the message of service is diluted. What the current advertisements fail to communicate is the sense of purpose that comes with wearing the uniform. That message, embedded in the traditions of the navy, army and air force, is what will inspire a new generation to enlist. Canada’s decision to reverse unification of its services in 2011 was more than a symbolic gesture. It was an acknowledgement that the essence of military service lies in the identity that comes with being part of a distinct organisation. Reintroducing the separate services helped to restore the pride and tradition that had been lost. For Canada, the price of unification and efficiency had been the erosion of the very things that gave the military its soul. By reinstating the navy, army and air force as separate entities, Canada not only boosted morale but also reconnected its armed forces to the traditions that had historically been their source of strength and purpose. The ADF should heed that example. The ADF’s strength lies not only in its modern capabilities but in the traditions that have shaped its identity. Young Australians aren’t just looking for jobs—they’re searching for meaning and purpose. They want to be part of something that matters. If the ADF is to reverse its recruitment decline, it needs to shift the narrative. The focus must return to the traditions and values that make the navy, army and air force unique. As Australia faces an increasingly complex strategic environment, the importance of a strong, capable and motivated defence force can’t be overstated. The lessons from Canada’s failed unification experiment are clear. When military institutions lose sight of their traditions, they risk losing their identity—and, with it, the ability to attract and retain the people they need. For the ADF, the path forward is not to abandon tradition in favour of efficiencies under the motto ‘One Defence’ but to find a way to honour the past while preparing for the future.