For three decades, “generation” has been a word we attach to aircraft: fourth, fifth, now sixth. The label implies that the next step forward is a better machine. The Sir Richard Williams Foundation’s 1 October seminar in Canberra, The Requirement for Air Combat Mass and Depth in the Indo-Pacific, suggested otherwise. It read less like a platform conference than a description of an enterprise. My special report, published this month, follows that argument through the day.

The April seminar was about readiness: fight tonight. This one asked whether the force that fights tonight is still fighting, and still deterring, months into a high-end contingency. The day began with geography and strategy and only then turned to what a force requires. Platforms were something to be fitted into a larger problem, not the starting point.

The best day is not the war

A platform-centric view measures a force on its best day: aircraft ready, bases intact, weapons stocked, networks up. But a war is the fifth day, the fifteenth and the fortieth, after the first strikes have landed on the infrastructure.

The People’s Liberation Army has spent a decade building a targeting complex of long-range strike, dense sensors and intelligence fusion that treats fixed, forward and known bases as vulnerabilities. A planner does not need to shoot down a fifth-generation fighter. It is enough to hold at risk the runways, fuel, munitions and maintenance that put it in the air. A small fleet of exquisite aircraft is an arithmetic problem, and arithmetic problems can be solved.

One industry presenter drew the answer as a graph of combat effect over time. A force surges into combat with pristine equipment, war stocks and skilled people, then declines into what he called the grind. The height of the line in the grind is set by industrial capacity: how fast a nation can replace combat effect as the enemy destroys it. A force optimised for the sharpest tip on its best day trades away the area under the curve, the total combat effect a nation can bring to a sustained war. This, he said, is not an industry problem. It is a combat power problem.

Regeneration is the test

That is what I mean by regenerative airpower: the capacity of an air combat enterprise to absorb attack, replace losses, reconstitute degraded nodes and keep generating combat effects across a campaign rather than a single engagement. The thing being regenerated is not an aircraft. It is the capacity to fight.

The seminar surfaced four elements, each on the Foundation’s agenda.

Mass that can be replaced. Collaborative combat aircraft were central, but speakers rejected the idea that Australia needs them because it expects to lose many. That is not the movie Australia is in. The case was risk management, capacity optimisation and persistence: uncrewed systems as the lever, scarce crews and aircraft such as the E-7 and the tanker as the fulcrum. They are additive, which fits awkwardly in an acquisition system built to swap one platform for the next. Attritable mass is valuable not because you can afford to waste it but because you can replace it, and that holds only if an enterprise exists to build, supply, maintain and integrate it. The sceptics were, in effect, asking for proof that the enterprise exists.

Depth that is designed. Geography becomes depth only when it is developed: distributed runways, fuel, munitions handling, repair capacity and layered base defence, paid for before the war. The seminar acknowledged that access, basing and overflight were not covered. That gap matters, because bases are what an adversary will target first.

People who cannot be surged. Aircraft come from factories. Aircrew, maintainers and logisticians come from training systems, which are slow. One senior officer admitted that nobody has yet thought through what a sixth-generation workforce looks like, and the enterprise’s workforce now includes software engineers and production specialists as well as pilots and mechanics.

Industry as the combat reserve. The MQ-28 program involves roughly 125 suppliers, with about 70 per cent of investment flowing to Australian industry, some from firms that had never worked in aerospace. The argument was for a sovereign kernel, the people and competencies who know how to design, build and adapt at speed. And production lines are regenerative capacity: once they close, they are very hard to reopen.

The evidence

On sustainment, a fleet funded around 16 flying hours a month per jet can find itself flown ten times that over Pacific distances, and the supply chain is not prepared for a tenfold increase sustained for months. Weapons expenditure makes the headlines. Sustainment is what quietly runs out.

On architecture, consider the May 2025 India–Pakistan air clash. Both sides flew capable fourth-plus-generation aircraft with good weapons and trained crews. One arrived with a far more advanced communications, sensor and command-and-control architecture, and the information advantage tipped the exchange. The platforms were comparable. The enterprises were not.

The enterprise extends to the nation

The room treated one final theme with growing urgency: the homeland. National polling cited at the opening found that 80 per cent of Australians believe a foreign military attack would have major or catastrophic consequences. No defence effort lasts without public understanding and consent. A later speaker argued that Australia has a defence strategy rather than a national one, because civil defence and mobilisation planning is largely absent.

I would put one point differently. That speaker argued that in the most demanding contingency Australia would deter only by annoying. Regeneration is how a middle power turns a modest force into a credible contribution to a coalition’s staying power. A bastion that can keep generating effects is far more than an annoyance, but only if it can regenerate.

What follows

Acquisition has to change. Decisions should be judged by their contribution to the regenerative capacity of the whole, not the performance of the item alone: a slightly better platform with a fragile supply chain may add less combat power than a less exquisite one embedded in a robust enterprise. Sustainment moves to the front of the conversation. And allied interoperability must extend beyond data links to shared spares, common munitions and software baselines, and distributed basing.

The arc across a decade of these seminars is visible. In 2014 the conversation was about acquiring the pieces of a twenty-first century air force; by 2024, fusing them around a fifth-generation core; in 2026, whether that core can be made deep, distributed and sustainable enough to survive a precision-strike adversary.

The closing synthesis said it plainly: air combat mass is far more than numbers of aircraft, and technology does not equal strategy. Platforms will keep arriving and they will matter. But the winning advantage will belong to the side that can regenerate.

O que significa ser uma potência média democrática na era da ascensão da China? E por que duas nações que compartilham tanto — territórios vastos, economias baseadas em recursos naturais, dependência de commodities e laços comerciais profundos com Pequim — traçam trajetórias tão marcadamente diferentes?

*A Dinâmica Australiana, Brasileira e Chinesa* é um estudo comparativo marcante sobre como duas democracias competentes do Hemisfério Sul estão lidando com um dos desafios determinantes do século XXI: construir uma relação sustentável com uma China que é, ao mesmo tempo, seu parceiro econômico mais importante e uma fonte de risco geopolítico crescente. Escrito por dois estudiosos que passaram décadas na interseção entre política, história e análise estratégica, o livro oferece algo raro na era atual de comentários geopolíticos — profundidade empírica, fundamentação histórica e rigor analítico genuíno.

O livro começa com um questionamento a um dos conceitos mais abusados e analiticamente enganosos do discurso geopolítico contemporâneo: o “Sul Global”. O prólogo argumenta que o BRICS agrupa Estados com interesses e posições estratégicas fundamentalmente incompatíveis. A China é a segunda maior economia do mundo, membro permanente do Conselho de Segurança da ONU e potência nuclear, com uma política externa assertiva que inclui a militarização do Mar da China Meridional e a coerção contínua de Taiwan. A Rússia é um império terrestre eurasiano cuja invasão da Ucrânia representa exatamente o tipo de agressão imperial que o discurso fundador do Sul Global se propôs a condenar. Esses países não são pares de Brasília ou Canberra. São grandes potências revisionistas que exploram as queixas genuínas das nações em desenvolvimento para fins geopolíticos.

A Austrália e o Brasil, em contrapartida, são autênticas potências médias — nações genuinamente moldadas por legados coloniais, dependência de commodities e vulnerabilidade estrutural a uma ordem mundial cujas regras foram escritas em outros lugares. A análise a seguir leva essa distinção a sério.

Em um momento em que os comentários geopolíticos recorrem com demasiada frequência a esquemas generalistas e narrativas simplificadas, *The Australian, Brazilian and Chinese Dynamic* oferece algo mais valioso: um relato cuidadosamente argumentado, empiricamente fundamentado e genuinamente comparativo de como as nações fazem escolhas estratégicas e o que essas escolhas revelam sobre o mundo em que estamos entrando.

Como observa o Dr. Andrew Carr, da Universidade Nacional da Austrália: “Laird e Maxwell trazem uma experiência considerável para essa tarefa. Laird passou décadas mapeando os desenvolvimentos da defesa ocidental e interagindo com formuladores de políticas em todo o mundo, incluindo a Austrália. Os estudos de Maxwell sobre a América Latina e seus legados globais lhe proporcionaram um profundo conhecimento do Brasil e de sua abordagem às relações internacionais.”

Como comenta o Dr. Felipe Krause, da Universidade de Oxford: *The Australian, Brazilian and Chinese Dynamic* oferece uma perspectiva convincente para compreender essa mudança. Ao colocar a Austrália e o Brasil lado a lado, Robbin Laird e Kenneth Maxwell realizam uma abordagem comparativa original e altamente produtiva. Esses dois países raramente são analisados em conjunto. Eles estão situados em regiões diferentes, pertencem a tradições estratégicas distintas e são normalmente abordados em discussões separadas. No entanto, a comparação revela-se excepcionalmente esclarecedora.

Este livro será de grande interesse para leitores interessados em estratégia do Indo-Pacífico, política e política externa da América Latina, relações sino-australianas e sino-brasileiras, o futuro da ordem internacional liberal, a teoria das potências médias e a economia política da dependência de commodities.

Building the Impact Force  argues that the contemporary United States Marine Corps is undergoing a fundamental transformation from a traditional, crisis‑response force into an “impact force” designed to generate disproportionate effects for the joint and allied team under conditions of persistent chaos, contested logistics, and degraded communications. Rather than centering on whether the Corps is “leaving the land wars,” the core question becomes whether Marines can operate as resilient, forward nodes inside an adversary’s weapons engagement zone, sensing, deciding, and enabling fires across a broader kill web while remaining survivable and sustainable.

The narrative begins by situating this shift in the aftermath of the post‑9/11 land wars, arguing that Marine transformation was already underway before Force Design 2030, driven by aviation changes such as the MV‑22 and F‑35 and an emerging focus on mobile, expeditionary basing and tighter naval integration. The prologue and introduction trace how the end of Afghanistan exposed the limits of a CENTCOM‑dominated, Army‑centric model and opened space for the Corps to reorient toward peer competitors and maritime competition, with Marines positioned as a key integrator in joint kill webs rather than an adjunct to land campaigns. This earlier trajectory provides the baseline for assessing whether the Corps can now become an impact force whose value is measured less by organic firepower and more by the decision advantage it creates.

A central conceptual distinction in the book is between crisis management and chaos management. Historically, Marines prepared for discrete, time‑bounded contingencies—embassy reinforcements, evacuations, humanitarian missions—assuming long periods of relative stability punctuated by emergencies. Chaos management assumes instead multiple, overlapping threats across domains, blurred peace‑war boundaries, and compressed decision cycles driven by pervasive sensing, networks, and precision fires. Within this framework, the analysis differentiates between an “inside force” that simply survives within adversary weapons envelopes and an “impact force” that serves as the sensing, targeting, and command‑and‑control layer that makes joint and allied forces more lethal and survivable at scale.

From this conceptual base, Part One defines three interlocking dimensions of impact‑force evolution: aviation as impact multiplier, kill‑web integration through digital interoperability, and force design as impact logic. Aviation is recast from a collection of mission‑segmented platforms into the connective tissue of distributed operations—F‑35s, MQ‑9s, MV‑22s, CH‑53Ks, H‑1s, and KC‑130Js operating as networked sensors, gateways, C2 nodes, and logistics enablers rather than just shooters or haulers. Digital interoperability efforts, radar modernization, and AI/ML experimentation seek to connect sensors and shooters across services and allies in resilient networks, shifting the focus from owning individual weapons to managing data flows and decision cycles. Force Design choices—such as retaining 4th Marines as a conventional infantry regiment, restoring breaching capabilities, and pivoting from a pure “ship‑killer” emphasis to a sensor‑centric, joint‑JTAC role—are interpreted as evidence of an institution rethinking its theory of value in terms of impact on joint kill webs.

The book’s empirical core is the analysis of Steel Knight 2025, presented as a “campaign laboratory” rather than a traditional readiness exercise. Conducted by I MEF across Southern California and the broader Southwest, Steel Knight 25 abandons linear force closure in favor of distributed entry operations, forcing Marines to fight as dispersed, networked formations from the outset without sanctuary or permissive buildup. The exercise links embassy reinforcement, large‑scale noncombatant evacuation, distributed fires, and contested logistics into a coherent campaign, while simultaneously certifying a regiment for Marine Rotational Force–Darwin and showcasing concepts to allies. This design exposes interdependencies between sensing, fires, C2, and sustainment, revealing where the impact‑force model works and where it strains under realistic friction.

Several key themes emerge from Steel Knight and the associated interviews with Marine commanders and aviators. First, the operational logic of distributed, impact‑oriented operations is judged sound but incomplete: Marines can function as forward nodes that generate targeting data, coordinate joint fires, and maintain survivability through movement and signature management. Second, logistics is consistently identified as the binding constraint—distributed operations over Indo‑Pacific‑type distances require more lift, fuel, and aviation ground support than the Corps currently possesses, and the force remains dependent on joint platforms such as Air Force C‑130s. Third, digital interoperability is both revolutionary and dangerous: units like HMLA‑267 demonstrate how even legacy helicopters can become vital C2 and sensing nodes once fully networked, but every transmission risks exposing positions in an environment where a brief emission can trigger rapid retribution.

Command and control emerges as the central cultural friction point. Modern networks give small units access to information and strike options once reserved for higher headquarters, but institutional habits and risk calculus lag behind, creating tension between mission command ideals and the temptation to centralize when data is abundant. The book argues that impact‑force success depends on shifting real authority to forward captains and sergeants who, with access to F‑35 feeds, MQ‑9 coverage, and joint fires, must act within intent rather than await detailed direction from remote staffs. Steel Knight is used to show both progress and limits in this regard, underscoring that connectivity can either accelerate decisions or become a bottleneck if approval chains remain too vertical.

The war in Ukraine is treated as a cautionary benchmark, highlighting the premium on adaptation speed rather than as a direct tactical model for the Marine Corps. Ukrainian forces’ ability to rapidly integrate commercial drones and new tactics is cited as evidence that learning speed—and not simply Western technology—matters in contemporary conflict. The book warns against assuming that adaptation advantage is inherently American, arguing that exercises like Steel Knight must remain genuine experiments with room for failure and course correction rather than scripted validations of preferred concepts.

Part Two compiles detailed interviews from Steel Knight 25 that deepen the operational picture. Leaders from 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, Marine Air Control Group, and subordinate units explain how they balance warfighting readiness, force generation, and modernization within single exercises, using experimentation with autonomous systems, digital gateways, and new C2 constructs to expose gaps and refine practices. Squadron‑level perspectives, such as those from HMLA‑267, illustrate how digital upgrades transform “forgotten” platforms into central players in distributed aviation operations, capable of pushing and pulling data, extending the kill web, and operating from austere locations alongside maneuver forces. Throughout, practitioners emphasize people, culture, and the willingness to fail in training as decisive enablers of genuine transformation.

Part Three, “Working the Transformation,” shifts from description to evaluation, using the 2025–2026 Marine Aviation Plans, Project Eagle, and the October 2025 Force Design Update to assess progress and remaining gaps. Project Eagle’s three‑horizon framework—Fight Tonight, Bridge the Gap, Future Fight—aligns aviation modernization with impact‑force requirements, emphasizing Distributed Aviation Operations (DAO), decision‑centric aviation, and the elevation of Aviation Ground Support as the seventh function of Marine aviation. DAO’s hub‑spoke‑node construct is presented as aviation’s operational answer to survivable support for stand‑in forces, with nodes treated as time‑stamped, inherently temporary constructs whose movement and sustainment must be rigorously planned. Decision‑centric aviation aims to make aviation a data‑rich, AI‑enabled decision enterprise, where platforms are valued as sensing and networking nodes that compress sensor‑to‑shooter timelines across the joint force.

Within this framework, the book argues that logistics, sustainment, and industrial‑base realities will ultimately determine whether the impact‑force concept can be realized at scale. Extended‑range operations by V‑22s, KC‑130Js, and CH‑53Ks at the edge of envelopes highlight the need for robust forward maintenance packages, more resilient supply chains, and realistic expectations for technologies like additive manufacturing and predictive maintenance. The CH‑53K is held up as a potential game‑changer for heavy lift and diagnostics, but only if procured and supported in sufficient numbers to reduce over‑reliance on scarce joint lift. The text stresses that impact‑force design trades one set of risks for another, emphasizing that risk cannot be eliminated but must be aligned with the realities of great‑power competition.

The Force Design 2030 campaign is portrayed as iterative and evidence‑driven rather than doctrinally rigid. The October 2025 update’s decisions—retaining 4th Marines as a conventional infantry regiment, partially reversing earlier divestments in breaching and bridging, and shifting from a narrow ship‑killing focus to a broader sensing and enabling role—are presented as examples of course corrections informed by exercises and operational feedback. Large‑scale exercises across the Indo‑Pacific, Europe, and North America (e.g., BALIKATAN, KAMANDAG, TALISMAN SABRE, RESOLUTE DRAGON, ATLANTIC ALLIANCE, NORTHERN EDGE, BOLD QUEST, PROJECT CONVERGENCE) are described as key venues where these concepts are tested with allies and partners, validating that distributed, kill‑web‑enabled operations have global relevance beyond a “China‑only” context.

Throughout, the book maintains that culture and human factors will ultimately decide the fate of the impact‑force project. Digital interoperability, AI tools, and advanced platforms can enable distributed operations, but if command philosophy defaults to centralization under stress, much of the investment will be wasted. Mission command must become a lived practice; junior leaders must be educated, trusted, and incentivized to exercise judgment in spectrum‑contested, time‑compressed environments; and the institution must be willing to adjust structures and concepts when empirical evidence contradicts established ideas. The Marine Corps is depicted as a force already in motion—experimenting, learning, and revising—but still facing unresolved tensions over specialization vs. flexibility, Indo‑Pacific prioritization vs. global responsiveness, and the balance between aspirational concepts and available resources.

In its closing sections, the book positions itself as both record and challenge. It documents how far the Marine Corps has come in moving from a crisis‑management paradigm to an impact‑force model that treats chaos, not episodic crisis, as the normal operating environment. At the same time, it challenges Marines, joint teammates, and allies to continue the campaign of learning—treating exercises as genuine laboratories, accepting failure as part of adaptation, and ensuring that mission command, logistics, and digital architectures evolve fast enough to make the emerging impact force decisive rather than fragile.