The U.S. seems to have found a strategy for fighting wars without
putting too many American lives at risk. In the case of Libya, each time
pressure mounted for a stronger military role, the U.S. reached into its
rich trough of assets and offered yet another fresh installment
of its unique capabilities, custom made for the task at hand. In the
beginning these capabilities included cruise missiles, fighter jets and
combat aircrafts. Once NATO assumed command and control they included
air refueling, aerial surveillance and electronic warfare missions. In
the latest escalation the unique capabilities are delivered through
predator drones.
The substitution of boots on the ground with unique technological capabilities in the air seems to be a solution tailor made for the times. Secretary Gates had been making the rounds arguing for a smaller army weeks before Libyan people took to the streets. He told a gathering of West Point cadets that any future defense secretary “Should have his head examined” if he ever advised an American President to fight a land war in Asia, Middle East or Africa.
However compelling, the narrative is a bit misleading. It is not that the United States, having just learned about the futility of committing ground troops for regime changes in Iraq and Afghanistan, is now betting on technologies to fight distant enemies from the air and sea. The betting on complex technological capabilities began long time ago--most precisely after the Second World War.
The story of Vannevar Bush being summoned by FDR to produce a blue print for post war science policy is well known. Less known are stories like that of Theodore Von Karman, the Director of the Guggenheim Aeronautical Laboratory at Cal Tech (GALCIT) and his benefactor, General Henry H. “Hap” Arnold.
In the summer of 1944 , as allied victory appeared certain, Arnold, the Commanding General of the U.S. Army Air Force, started to worry about post-war scientific developments. He was convinced that the American people would not be supportive of large standing armies or drawn out conflicts of human attrition. He felt Germany came dangerously close to altering the balance of power during the war with its superior technological capabilities in the area of jet propulsion and missiles. Arnold believed that in future conflicts the U.S. could not count on its “production science” prowess to outlast its enemies. Neither could it expect to get a grace period to maintain neutrality and use the time to mobilize resources. He thought United States had to be the leading force in the skies from the very first engagement.
Arnold asked Karman to get a group of “practical scientists” to study the “shape of the air war, of air power, in five years, or ten, or sixty-five.” He wanted a roadmap to initiate the Army Air Force Long-Range Development Program. Arnold firmly believed that “science and technology must be harnessed to make the work of the air force safer and more efficient, overcoming problems of long distance, darkness, and weather.” This, Arnold thought, “would leave human intelligence—assisted by television and radar—free to determine weapons delivery.”
It is not very difficult to see how the unique capacities that constitute today’s supremacy in the air, ground and sea are the product of sixty five-year-old anticipation and strategic and sustained investments in innovation--investments that produced many planned and serendipitous hits as well as costly misses. The hits made possible many different types of military engagements in foreign lands—from strategic bombing campaigns in Korea and Vietnam, to the enforcement of no-fly zones in Bosnia and Iraq, to the “Shock and Awe” opening act of the Iraq war, all the way to the use of predator drones to hunt down disparate bands of Taliban fighters and now Qaddafi loyalists.
While military lessons were learned and unlearned, the geopolitical situation turned on its head, and economic balance of power shifted from one group of nations to another, the trajectory for capacity enhancement and the pursuit of an endless technological frontier remained virtually unchanged within the Department of Defense. Indeed the initial conditions established more than sixty five years ago has produced a military-industrial complex that is unlike any other in terms of scope, scale and resiliency to spur innovation.
The question is: could this be taken a step further? If anticipation of future needs can in fact be used to build technological capacities that can be remarkably resilient, versatile and adaptable, could we do the same for social implications of those technological capabilities? Could we move from not just building the technological capabilities to fight future wars, but also the societal capabilities to deal with their consequences? Furthermore, could we also extend those capacities beyond military technologies and apply them to the case of emerging technologies in general? In other words, could we imagine an institutional complex that would be the societal equivalent of the military-industrial complex?
Could the Department of Homeland Security take over where the Department of Defense leaves off and boldly go where Office of Technology Assessment hadn’t gone before?
About the Author: Mahmud Farooque is the associate director in CSPO’s office in Washington, D.C.
The substitution of boots on the ground with unique technological capabilities in the air seems to be a solution tailor made for the times. Secretary Gates had been making the rounds arguing for a smaller army weeks before Libyan people took to the streets. He told a gathering of West Point cadets that any future defense secretary “Should have his head examined” if he ever advised an American President to fight a land war in Asia, Middle East or Africa.
However compelling, the narrative is a bit misleading. It is not that the United States, having just learned about the futility of committing ground troops for regime changes in Iraq and Afghanistan, is now betting on technologies to fight distant enemies from the air and sea. The betting on complex technological capabilities began long time ago--most precisely after the Second World War.
The story of Vannevar Bush being summoned by FDR to produce a blue print for post war science policy is well known. Less known are stories like that of Theodore Von Karman, the Director of the Guggenheim Aeronautical Laboratory at Cal Tech (GALCIT) and his benefactor, General Henry H. “Hap” Arnold.
In the summer of 1944 , as allied victory appeared certain, Arnold, the Commanding General of the U.S. Army Air Force, started to worry about post-war scientific developments. He was convinced that the American people would not be supportive of large standing armies or drawn out conflicts of human attrition. He felt Germany came dangerously close to altering the balance of power during the war with its superior technological capabilities in the area of jet propulsion and missiles. Arnold believed that in future conflicts the U.S. could not count on its “production science” prowess to outlast its enemies. Neither could it expect to get a grace period to maintain neutrality and use the time to mobilize resources. He thought United States had to be the leading force in the skies from the very first engagement.
Arnold asked Karman to get a group of “practical scientists” to study the “shape of the air war, of air power, in five years, or ten, or sixty-five.” He wanted a roadmap to initiate the Army Air Force Long-Range Development Program. Arnold firmly believed that “science and technology must be harnessed to make the work of the air force safer and more efficient, overcoming problems of long distance, darkness, and weather.” This, Arnold thought, “would leave human intelligence—assisted by television and radar—free to determine weapons delivery.”
It is not very difficult to see how the unique capacities that constitute today’s supremacy in the air, ground and sea are the product of sixty five-year-old anticipation and strategic and sustained investments in innovation--investments that produced many planned and serendipitous hits as well as costly misses. The hits made possible many different types of military engagements in foreign lands—from strategic bombing campaigns in Korea and Vietnam, to the enforcement of no-fly zones in Bosnia and Iraq, to the “Shock and Awe” opening act of the Iraq war, all the way to the use of predator drones to hunt down disparate bands of Taliban fighters and now Qaddafi loyalists.
While military lessons were learned and unlearned, the geopolitical situation turned on its head, and economic balance of power shifted from one group of nations to another, the trajectory for capacity enhancement and the pursuit of an endless technological frontier remained virtually unchanged within the Department of Defense. Indeed the initial conditions established more than sixty five years ago has produced a military-industrial complex that is unlike any other in terms of scope, scale and resiliency to spur innovation.
The question is: could this be taken a step further? If anticipation of future needs can in fact be used to build technological capacities that can be remarkably resilient, versatile and adaptable, could we do the same for social implications of those technological capabilities? Could we move from not just building the technological capabilities to fight future wars, but also the societal capabilities to deal with their consequences? Furthermore, could we also extend those capacities beyond military technologies and apply them to the case of emerging technologies in general? In other words, could we imagine an institutional complex that would be the societal equivalent of the military-industrial complex?
Could the Department of Homeland Security take over where the Department of Defense leaves off and boldly go where Office of Technology Assessment hadn’t gone before?
About the Author: Mahmud Farooque is the associate director in CSPO’s office in Washington, D.C.
