In recent years, it’s been hard to swing a stick without hitting an article on militarized artificial intelligence. Most of them take the form of either advocacy or alarmism, but both of these arguments distract from the reality that future wars will still be driven by human policies.
Despite the fact that most of this technology has yet to be invented, much less fielded, we can’t stop talking about how AI will change the way the world fights its wars, or usher in a robot Armageddon. While AI will certainly play an important role in future conflicts, there is risk associated with exaggerating the extent of that role. For one, overemphasizing the potential wonders of synthetic warriors runs the risk of convincing the next generation of real warriors that these machines will fight their battles for them — they won’t.
Most senior military leaders and staff members on the Pentagon’s deep futures program understand that machines will augment human capabilities and not the other way around. But there are some who see robots as serving a more central role in war: potentially replacing humans. Unfortunately, machines can no more replace humans in war than they can supplant politicians or judges in government. Like politics, war is a human construct driven by human ideas, relationships, and objectives.
Given the prioritization of multinational partnerships in the 2018 National Defense Strategy, these human factors have taken center stage rather than fading into the background. According to Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis, translating tactical victories into strategic success may require equal parts human inspiration and military intimidation from the United States.
Precedent supports his logic. Examine any great military victory and you will unravel a network of human relationships that not only made victory possible, but also sustainable. Winning the peace is often more challenging than winning the war, and this demands human investment.
For instance, certain relationships cultivated during Operation Iraqi Freedom were so powerful that locals working with coalition forces risked their lives to support the mission. After the war, many of these unsung heroes were forever changed by these bonds, such as Navy SEAL interpreter Johnny Walker, now a proud U.S. citizen who trains members of the special operations community. Iraqis like Walker were not inspired by America’s technology; they were moved by its people.
Now, imagine removing these human relationships from the equation. How many Johnny Walkers would such an undertaking yield? And yet, attracting fewer friends isn’t the only concern associated with the prospect of robot war.
Nations cannot lead wars from which their leaders are absent. Any such effort would result not only in an abdication of American leadership on the world stage, but also the creation of new enemies. A popular theme within violent extremist circles paints the United States as a “paper tiger” unwilling to sacrifice its citizens for worthy causes, but willing to kill for them. Osama bin Laden made this assertion to ABC reporter John Miller during a 1998 interview in Afghanistan. Bin Laden believed that President Bill Clinton’s 1993 removal of troops from Somalia after suffering losses validated this outlook.
Just imagine how much more effective this recruitment argument becomes once the robot war era has begun.
The United States is privileged in that it has a volunteer force of exceptional young Americans who are honored with the people’s trust. According to a 2018 Gallup poll, 74 percent of Americans say they have a “great deal” or “quite a lot” of confidence in the U.S. Military. Moreover, the high education rate of the average service member coupled with their frequent exposure to foreign cultures makes them effective at building meaningful relationships in support of the national interest. Underselling the importance of this resource would be a mistake that sends a poor message to friend and foe alike.
As future war programs press on, the American public will be exposed to an increasingly impressive array of smart technology, none of which will be able to inspire allies, partners, or former adversaries to embrace new ideas, unite under a common cause, and persevere through adversity. America’s sons and daughters can do that — but they must be present in person to do so.
Michael P. Ferguson is an officer of the United States Army with combat experience in Iraq and Afghanistan. A former instructor at the U.S. Army Ranger School, he fought in the 2006 Battle of Ramadi and often writes on issues concerning national security. The views expressed are the author’s and do not reflect official positions or policies of the U.S. Army, the Department of Defense, or the U.S. government.
