In an era where technology is advancing at an unprecedented pace, the discussions surrounding the military’s role in autonomous devices and weaponry are becoming increasingly urgent. This article explores the motivations behind military officials advocating for the United States to secure a leading position in this realm. With the opportunity to outpace competitors in the development of drones and advanced missiles, the United States sees a chance to redefine its military capabilities while addressing pressing national security concerns.
However, transitioning to a framework that prioritizes autonomous weapons doesn’t negate the ongoing relevance of traditional warfare assets such as drones, missiles, signal-jamming technologies, artillery, and armored vehicles. While the roles of these systems may evolve over time, they will not vanish entirely. For instance, the AK-47 became an iconic weapon for the USSR in 1949, and it remains in use today, highlighting that even revolutionary changes do not eradicate previous technologies.
If the notion of a robotic military gives you pause, consider Elon Musk’s venture into developing machines that can autonomously construct other machines. The implications are staggering.
By Sarah Scoles, a science journalist based in Colorado, and a senior contributor to Undark. She is the author of “Making Contact,” “They Are Already Here,” and “Countdown: The Blinding Future of 21st Century Nuclear Weapons.” Originally published at Undark
Twelve years ago, Frank Kendall, then the Under Secretary of Defense for Acquisition, Technology, and Logistics, presented a PowerPoint slide to senior military officials focusing on budgetary decisions. The slide illustrated three strategic choices regarding military presence in space, as adversaries like China and Russia were developing capabilities to target American satellites that facilitate crucial operations in intelligence, communications, and navigation.
Kendall suggested that the country could either continue to invest in a limited number of expensive satellites that are vulnerable to attacks or innovate a more resilient satellite infrastructure, or reduce reliance on these systems. As Kendall argues in “Lethal Autonomy: The Future of Warfare Whether We Like It or Not,” the future of warfare will likely see vehicles and weaponry operating with a significant degree of autonomy, even making life-and-death decisions about engagements.
BOOK REVIEW — “Lethal Autonomy: The Future of Warfare Whether We Like It or Not,” by Frank Kendall (Knox Press, 288 pages).
Ultimately, recommendations emphasize rethinking military operations in space, primarily through the development of smaller, more affordable satellites that can collaborate and continue functioning even if several are compromised. According to Kendall, this adaptable approach is crucial as conflicts over space become inevitable.
Moreover, Kendall argues that conflicts on the ground are also evolving and will continue to do so. He writes, “We are living in an age of exponential technology development that is certain to have a profound effect on how any future conflicts will be fought.” It is paramount, he stresses, for the U.S. to adapt if it wishes to maintain military superiority.
Kendall outlines a vision for a military infrastructure that heavily relies on autonomous vehicles and weapons capable of acting independently to engage targets and conduct operations. This shift aims to reduce human casualties by minimizing the number of soldiers deployed in combat zones.
“I continue to believe that the appropriate response is to master technological change rather than resist it,” Kendall writes. Yet, critical questions remain unresolved regarding the ethical implications of this evolution and the transformation it may bring to warfare.
Technological innovations like self-navigating systems and automated image analysis have made it possible for weapons to operate independently. According to Kendall, the military has been hesitant to fully embrace these advancements.
Several arguments exist against lethally autonomous weapons, including targeting inaccuracies, the potential for erratic behavior, and accountability issues. Still, mistakes can arise from human operators too. Kendall poses a compelling question: “Is there some good reason why we’d prefer that humans kill and be killed in war as opposed to machines assuming these functions?”
History shows that many menial tasks have been relegated to machines. “It may sound fanciful, but if we have to resolve our conflicts through competitive violence, why not let our machines do that for us?” he asserts. He finds it baffling that there is still a preference for human combatants in these scenarios.
Kendall argues that if weapon systems prove to be as reliable, if not more so, than their human counterparts, there exists an ethical justification for a military that is predominantly robotic, supported by human oversight.
In “Lethal Autonomy,” Kendall provides a framework for what a militarized robotic force may look like. The book reads more like a practical guide than a leisurely account, structured to explore how different military sectors could evolve in the absence of human soldiers, while addressing the complexities of each scenario. Its target audience seems to be military strategists as well as those interested in the future trajectory of military power.
On land, for instance, Kendall foresees crewless aerial systems capable of vertical takeoff and landing, working in small teams to gather intelligence for automated decision-making. These drones would be able to identify and engage targets autonomously while being launched from driverless ground vehicles.
Kendall asserts that the ability to discriminate between appropriate targets and minimize collateral damage should be proven to be at least as effective, if not superior, to human intelligence. In high-risk situations—such as when children may be involved—a human operator could intercede, retaining crucial decision-making authority.
At sea, Kendall prompts a reevaluation of the purpose of large ships, given that aircraft, satellites, and coastal monitoring systems can conduct surveillance, while land-based weapons now have the range to target enemy naval forces.
Underwater, Kendall believes that crewed submarines may not endure the technological challenges posed by advanced detection systems, writing, “Time and technology do not seem to be on the side of the submarines.”
Instead, he proposes groups of smaller, autonomous subs that could collaboratively engage enemy vessels, withstand damage without human losses, and inflict damage effectively.
Kendall’s true expertise lies in aerial combat. While serving as secretary of the Air Force, he initiated the Collaborative Combat Aircraft program to develop drones that autonomously accompany piloted fighter jets while taking direction from nearby pilots. However, he envisions a future where fewer pilot-operated aircraft are required, focusing on “unmanned stealthy tactical aircraft” capable of short takeoffs and operating in coordination.
He acknowledges the challenges in developing automated flight systems, noting that many current applications are in commercial or peaceful contexts. “Combat-related automated behaviors will be much harder to verify,” he admits.
The book’s exploration of a robotic military presents a stark contrast to established norms, yet it also reflects new iterations of traditional combat. The most intriguing sections of “Lethal Autonomy” delve into the domain of space—a sector Kendall oversaw during the 2020s as the Space Force was part of the Air Force.
Space, as previously mentioned, is already quite autonomous, but it has yet to witness significant lethal capabilities. When discussing space, lethality refers to the ability to incapacitate satellites critical for Earth operations and communications.
Kendall argues that the U.S. must establish a capacity to neutralize adversarial satellites when warranted while also safeguarding its spacecraft from potential assaults. He suggests developing anti-satellite weapons, alongside a reserve of satellites that can be quickly launched if necessary.
Kendall also tackles the realm of cyber warfare, proposing the establishment of a new organization specifically focused on this domain. “Unlike everything else I’ve discussed so far for other domains, where autonomy removes emotion from the equation, this form of future warfare is all about psychological impact on the enemy’s population and leadership,” he explains.
The effectiveness of various attack strategies would likely vary by nation. For instance, in China, where the government is concerned about information control, decisions on the most effective methods could benefit from “AI-aided psychological analysis of the targeted society and leadership.”
This proposal may seem dystopian, yet so does the age-old practice of military leaders deliberating operations in closed rooms—a scenario evident throughout much of military history.
The idea of autonomous machines engaged in combat also evokes dystopian imagery. However, Kendall’s counterpoint raises an essential question: Is a world populated by such machines, operated by younger individuals making their own lethal decisions, less dystopian or merely familiar?
The concept of a lethally autonomous military emphasizes the absurdity of warfare: machines owned by one nation overpower another nation’s machines and personnel, demonstrating a form of dominion that may bear little connection to the underlying conflict.
In this regard, Kendall shares a sentiment with critics of war: “I hate war,” he writes. “It is the most wasteful and cruel of human endeavors.”
Ultimately, he concludes the book with the hope that his framework will never need to be enacted “and the future of warfare is a null set.”
As Kendall contemplates the future of machine-on-machine conflict, he poses a thought-provoking question: “Perhaps the folly and irrationality of using violence to resolve our differences will become clearer and more compelling,” he writes. “I fear, however, that the result will be the opposite.”
