According to Kate Drummond of Wired's Danger Room, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency is worried that young Americans are losing interest in computer science. (Drummond quotes the Computer Research Association to the effect that "computer science enrollment dropped 43 percent between 2003 and 2006.")
Of course, we hear this kind of thing all the time, and much of it is misleading, because of
* The cherry-picking of data. The year 2003 was a peak for the enrollment of U.S. citizens in IT training, according to the National Science Foundation. In fact, it was the crest of the field's mid-'90s spike-a trend confirmed by the CRA's own historical stats. The drop in the number of IT students following the end of the tech boom euphoria was perfectly natural.
* International comparisons which fail to take proper account of demographic differences or differing definitions of key terms across countries, as in the widely cited 2004 figures which had China producing 600,000 engineers to the U.S.'s 70,000-promptly and convincingly debunked by this Duke University study. And finally,
* The tendency to focus exclusively on supply, ignoring questions of demand-which is to say, whether or not there is actually a demand for all those trained personnel (and therefore, a real paucity of IT-trained personnel such as is implied in the headline).
All of this led the usually bland Robert Samuelson (normally given to repeating the usual neoliberal pieties) to write of "A Phony Science Gap."
That's certainly not to say I think all is well, but I think this sort of rhetoric confuses more than it clarifies, with the error generally on the side of alarmism and sanctimonious speeches about how "the kids" are signing up for easy but useless majors (ironically, often coming from journalists who steered clear of math and science majors during their own college days, like Tom Friedman) that distract from more significant economic problems, and more relevant and practical courses of action.
Far more interesting to me than the piece itself is the commentary left by readers, some 136 posts so far.1 The dominant note in these threads is the frustration of computer scientists at outsourcing, H-1 visa policy, stagnating incomes and alienating workplaces-a far cry from that '90s-era image of hip, freewheeling start-ups and nineteenth-century Edisonade dreams the media still sells in the twenty-first century, and rather more in line with what Barbara Ehrenreich describes in her study of college-educated, "high-skill" workers who find themselves looking at the same insecurity, underemployment, lousy conditions and crummy compensation as their less-credentialed brethren, 2005's Bait & Switch.
The common response to critiques of what was once called "the New Economy"-and in particular the lot of workers within it-was that while unskilled workers might have to just "suck it up" (empathy was not a strong suit of this rhetoric), the remaining twenty percent-essentially, those who went to college and got marketable four year degrees-would share in the benefits of growth, growth, growth!
It would be going too far to call this a social contract; call it an understanding instead. But the results of playing by these rules (and it is hard to picture anyone who hewed more closely to those rules than those who went into the field that was supposed to be the New Economy's crowning glory) have not been as advertised. Especially in this moment of record job dissatisfaction, it may be a sign of the times that the web site of a magazine traditionally associated with Silicon Valley libertarianism is a scene for the expression of these very considerable discontents.
1. Incidentally, a second thread of commentary regarding this very same article, and proceeding along much the same lines, can be found at the Huffington Post.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
A Sixth-Generation Fighter?
As of late, there has been talk about a "sixth-generation jet fighter," the conversation apparently getting a shot in the arm from the halting of the U.S.'s order of the F-22 fighter at 187 planes (making industry watchers look ahead to the next round of big programs, and feeding speculation in some quarters that a more advanced plane is due to come out of a black program somewhere).
Of course, this way of dividing the development of the jet fighter into phases is not unproblematic. This kind of classification - which assumes the existence of generations one through five, with their distinguishing features - is a fairly recent development, and the categories are only approximate (as is the case with almost any system when looked at closely enough). There are differences in ideas about what were the most essential traits, and sometimes which generation a particular aircraft belongs to.
Nonetheless, there is a core of rough consensus about these phases, and what they entail, which I'm offering below (with the key traits of each generation highlighted in bold lettering).
First-generation jet fighters appeared in the '40s (with the British Meteor and German Me-262 at the end of World War II) and continued to serve in front-line roles through the '50s (like the MiG-15 and F-86, famous from the Korean War). Powered by turbojets, they are capable of subsonic maximum speed, and generally armed with guns (cannon or machine guns), optically targeted without the aid of electronic sensors. Where broader innovation is concerned, this was the first generation of aircraft to be equipped with ejection seats, while swept wings also became commonplace at this time, and hydraulic flight control systems were in the process of supplanting earlier, mechanical control systems.
Second-generation fighters, which started appearing in the 1950s, were built with an emphasis on nuclear war-fighting, for which reason their designers deemphasized dog-fighting (and the agility that went with it) and ground attack capability (left to dedicated "fighter-bombers") in favor of fast, quick-climbing, point-defense interceptors, the design of which was often dedicated specifically to countering the threat from nuclear bombers. They are powered by afterburning turbojet engines that give them maximum speeds in the supersonic (Mach 2) range while in level flight at high altitude. Radar (range only, meaning it just gave a target's location), infra-red sensors, and air-to-air missile armament (generally short-range, usually infra-red-seeking, and primarily effective in the tail chase mode) entered into the package. (Other features, like delta wings, also began to appear at this time, while hydraulic control systems were standard at this point.) Planes like the French Mirage III, the British Lightning interceptor, the Soviet MiG-21 and the American F-104 Starfighter are examples of this stage of development. (Their fighter-bomber counterparts included planes like the American F-105, and the Soviet Sukhoi-7.)
Third-generation fighters, most of which emerged out of the 1960s, tend to be multi-role in contrast with the specialized interceptors of the previous era, in part due to higher performance-not improving their maximum speed much (still generally in the Mach 2 range), but enabling them to carry larger payloads and cover greater ranges. (Compare, for instance, the third-generation F-4 Phantom to the F-104 Starfighter as they stack up against one another in these respects.) They were equipped with more sophisticated, pulse-Doppler radar, enabling them to determine not only a target's location, but its radial velocity (range-rate); and also to fire medium-range, semi-active-radar guided missiles at beyond-visual range targets. It is also in this generation that innovations like Heads-Up Displays (HUDs) and variable-geometry wings begin appearing, while electronic countermeasures started to play something like their present role. Besides the aforementioned F-4, the Soviet MiG-23, and the French Mirage F-1, are good examples of such fighters.
Fourth-generation fighters, coming out of the 1970s, represented the next stage of advance, embodied in the "air superiority" fighters that have dominated the skies ever since. Building on the multi-role capabilities of third-generation fighter jets, there was a renewed emphasis on dogfighting capability in response to the actual conduct of battle over Southeast Asia and the Middle East (one aspect of which was the development of more agile aircraft, able to handle 8, 9 and 10-G maneuvers). It was also with this generation that fighters started to become truly effective in beyond-visual range engagements. (In most of the air wars of the '60s and early '70s, most of the kills achieved by the second- and third-generation fighters involved were actually achieved at short-range, with guns and infra-red-seeking missiles. By contrast, the U.S. Air Force in the 1991 Gulf War achieved most of its aerial kills using radar-guided Sparrow missiles.)
In more strictly technological terms, while the performance of fourth-generation fighters as measured by speed, range and payload did not change much, turbojets were largely supplanted by more efficient turbofans, and earlier hydraulic control systems by lightweight, redundant fly-by-wire systems. Additionally, look-down/shoot-down capability became standard in their radars. Aircraft controls also changed, with hands-on-throttle-and-stick (HOTAS) configurations (putting buttons and switches on the throttle and control stick so the pilot can access them without removing their hands from them) and Multi-Function Displays (in place of earlier strips and dials) increasingly the norm, bringing about the advent of the "glass cockpit." Datalinks also became a regular feature, the better to facilitate the coordination of large-scale battles by airborne command and control systems (a function performed in the American case by the Joint Tactical Information Distribution System).
Most of the fighter jets in front-line service today-such as the American F-15, F-16 and F/A-18, the French Mirage 2000, the British-German-Italian Tornado, and the Soviet MiG-29 and Sukhoi-27-fall into this category.
Fifth-generation fighters are only beginning to appear now, with the only one actually in service the American F-22. (No other proposed fifth-generation plane has even flown as a prototype, though the Russian-Indian Sukhoi-PAK program has reportedly produced three prototypes, with the plane expected to fly within the year.)
Fifth-generation fighters are distinguished from fourth-generation fighters (on the multi-role character of which they build) primarily by their incorporation of all-aspect stealth and supercruise capability (essentially, they can fly at supersonic speed without using afterburners, not changing their maximum speed much but making for a much higher cruising speed, 1,140 miles an hour for the F-22, compared with just half as much for the F-15). The thrust-vectoring capabilities that were once unique to specialized aircraft (like the Harrier), helmet-mounted displays, Active Electronically Scanned Array (or phased array) radars (the use of multiple radiating elements, which not only permits more contol over scans, but makes their signal difficult to detect passively, and more difficult to jam), Infra-Red Search and Track (IRST) systems in place of older Forward Looking Infra-Red (FLIR) sensors and "sensor fusion" (integrating data from multiple sensors), also seem to be standard on these.
That said, it seems easy enough to tell the difference between a fifth-generation F-22 and a first-generation F-86, for instance, or a fourth-generation MiG-29 and a second-generation MiG-21, but there are plenty of points in between where the line is harder to draw. Aircraft upgrades confuse the issue, in instances, by giving the aircraft of one generation some of the capabilities of more modern aircraft; for example, later versions of the first-generation F-86 were equipped with the air-to-air missiles associated with second-generation aircraft. Likewise, there are cases where technologies that only later became standard appeared in an earlier generation of aircraft-like the HOTAS control configuration or the supercruise capabilities of the second-generation Lightning, or the helmet-mounted sights and IRSTs featured in fourth-generation Soviet jets like the MiG-29 and Sukhoi-27 (while in other respects lagging a bit, the MiG-29 relying on older-style hydraulics rather than fly-by-wire).
Some aircraft also represent intermediate stages from their beginnings on the drawing board, as is now the case with many of the planes competing for contracts with premier air forces-like the American F-35, the French Rafale, the Eurofighter Typhoon, and the Swedish Saab-39 (all of them "generation 4.5" or "4+ and 4++" jets), just as the "Super Hornet" derivative of the F-18, and the later variants of the MiG-29 and Sukhoi-27 do. Simply put, they are designed with a mix of fourth- and fifth-generation capabilities-for instance, supercruise capability and phased array radar, but only limited stealth (as with the Typhoon).
Nonetheless, despite the ambiguities it seems that the divisions still have some value, and make the point that a sixth-generation fighter would have to incorporate not merely quantitative improvements over a fifth-generation plane like the F-22 (for instance, its having more bandwidth), but qualitative changes in its propulsion, sensors, controls and other fundamental areas of its design and performance comparable to those described above.
What might those be? For the time being the writing on the subject is rather vague and speculative, but John A. Tirpak writing in Air Force Magazine in October 2009 mentions key traits as including the capacity to change its shape in flight, hypersonic speed and directed-energy weaponry. (Incidentally, those who check out his article can examine a slightly different version of the schema given above, which gives special attention to the middle ground between generations four and five.)
One might also guess that its stealthiness will extend to new spectra, perhaps to include invisibility to the naked eye. (Going by an article I read in the May 1997 Popular Science which described, among other things, an experiment with a modified F-15-"Hiding in Plane Sight"-I figured we'd be way past that point by now.) Given the strain the performance of these aircraft may place on a human pilot, and what is suggested about the progress of artificial intelligence, they may be unmanned and even autonomous.
Perhaps. However, I find myself wondering if there really will be call for a sixth-generation fighter circa 2030, for three reasons.
#1. The Actual Rate of Technological Change (Slower or Faster).
On the one hand, it may be that the requisite technologies will never quite be realized-the incorporation of hypersonic flight, for instance, proving to be further off than expected. Indeed, the argument has already been made for the "senility" of major conventional weapons systems like combat aircraft.
On the other hand, it may be that so much else will take place between now and then with regard to high-end war-fighting systems that even a substantially more evolved fighter aircraft will have little place in the battlespace-for instance, because of a rapid evolution of space war-fighting systems that renders old-fashioned air superiority moot.
#2. Economic Stagnation.
Regardless of the uncertain limitations to technological advance over the next generation or two, it is worth noting that each succeeding generation of jet aircraft has been more expensive, resulting in fewer purchases and shorter production runs, even as the number of types built as part of any one generation has shrunk-which cannot but have consequences. It can be pointed out, for instance, that while an F-22 may cost five times as much as an F-15C, it can do things five F-15s cannot-but at the same time, there will be situations where the larger number of aircraft has its uses, and these may be more plausible, so that the combination of budgetary constraints, cost-and mission (see below)-will make a larger number of less-sophisticated aircraft more attractive.
It is conceivable that the rising cost of military systems (especially if the world economy stagnates in the 21st century) will result in a next-generation fighter being prohibitively expensive for even the largest powers. As things stand, even the most affluent governments increasingly rely on international collaboration and international sales to cover the costs of their high-tech weapons programs. Britain, which once produced its own jet fighters domestically, had to partner with Germany and Italy to produce the Tornado, and an even larger-scale collaboration to produce the Typhoon. Russia, even with its economy bouyed by higher energy prices, partnered with India to produce its fifth-generation fighter. The U.S. is relying on a broad international partnership (including the U.K., Italy, the Netherlands, Turkey, Canada, Australia, Denmark and Norway) in the development and production of the F-35 (as well as the foreign sales they will bring). This seems especially likely to be the case in the event of the above two factors being operative, especially should they also combine with the stagnation of the world economy in the 21st century (or depending on one's outlook, its continuing to stagnate).
#3. Changing Military Missions.
Large-scale conventional warfare between states-and especially great powers-may exercise a smaller influence over the priorities of the major militaries. Of course, it is commonly considered ahistorical complacency to deemphasize interstate warfare, but the fact remains that two decades have passed since the Cold War's end without the U.S. trading fire with a "large peer competitor." A host of factors, like the spread of nuclear weapons (and in particular, robust strategic nuclear arsenals complete with second-strike capabilities) and international economic integration (most evident in Europe, but significant elsewhere), work against such a prospect ever getting closer. Meanwhile, counterinsurgency, peacekeeping and other, "alternative" missions-to which late-generation fighters contribute little-continue to dominate the actual, practical life of the major militaries. This trend may not be irreversible (indeed, it has been speculated that intensified resource competition, or the hijack of a major state by a radical clique may "turn the '20s into the '30s"), but the shift would nonetheless make a difference to which projects got R & D money, which systems got ordered. Not only is this worth noting given the current high profile of generation 4.5 aircraft, but signs of renewed interest in even much less-sophisticated systems, with the U.S. Air Force (admittedly, at civilian direction) taking a new interest in small war gear like "light fighters." In short, fifth-generation systems would be just as irrelevant as if they had been superseded by a fundamentally new technology.
Of course, this way of dividing the development of the jet fighter into phases is not unproblematic. This kind of classification - which assumes the existence of generations one through five, with their distinguishing features - is a fairly recent development, and the categories are only approximate (as is the case with almost any system when looked at closely enough). There are differences in ideas about what were the most essential traits, and sometimes which generation a particular aircraft belongs to.
Nonetheless, there is a core of rough consensus about these phases, and what they entail, which I'm offering below (with the key traits of each generation highlighted in bold lettering).
First-generation jet fighters appeared in the '40s (with the British Meteor and German Me-262 at the end of World War II) and continued to serve in front-line roles through the '50s (like the MiG-15 and F-86, famous from the Korean War). Powered by turbojets, they are capable of subsonic maximum speed, and generally armed with guns (cannon or machine guns), optically targeted without the aid of electronic sensors. Where broader innovation is concerned, this was the first generation of aircraft to be equipped with ejection seats, while swept wings also became commonplace at this time, and hydraulic flight control systems were in the process of supplanting earlier, mechanical control systems.
Second-generation fighters, which started appearing in the 1950s, were built with an emphasis on nuclear war-fighting, for which reason their designers deemphasized dog-fighting (and the agility that went with it) and ground attack capability (left to dedicated "fighter-bombers") in favor of fast, quick-climbing, point-defense interceptors, the design of which was often dedicated specifically to countering the threat from nuclear bombers. They are powered by afterburning turbojet engines that give them maximum speeds in the supersonic (Mach 2) range while in level flight at high altitude. Radar (range only, meaning it just gave a target's location), infra-red sensors, and air-to-air missile armament (generally short-range, usually infra-red-seeking, and primarily effective in the tail chase mode) entered into the package. (Other features, like delta wings, also began to appear at this time, while hydraulic control systems were standard at this point.) Planes like the French Mirage III, the British Lightning interceptor, the Soviet MiG-21 and the American F-104 Starfighter are examples of this stage of development. (Their fighter-bomber counterparts included planes like the American F-105, and the Soviet Sukhoi-7.)
Third-generation fighters, most of which emerged out of the 1960s, tend to be multi-role in contrast with the specialized interceptors of the previous era, in part due to higher performance-not improving their maximum speed much (still generally in the Mach 2 range), but enabling them to carry larger payloads and cover greater ranges. (Compare, for instance, the third-generation F-4 Phantom to the F-104 Starfighter as they stack up against one another in these respects.) They were equipped with more sophisticated, pulse-Doppler radar, enabling them to determine not only a target's location, but its radial velocity (range-rate); and also to fire medium-range, semi-active-radar guided missiles at beyond-visual range targets. It is also in this generation that innovations like Heads-Up Displays (HUDs) and variable-geometry wings begin appearing, while electronic countermeasures started to play something like their present role. Besides the aforementioned F-4, the Soviet MiG-23, and the French Mirage F-1, are good examples of such fighters.
Fourth-generation fighters, coming out of the 1970s, represented the next stage of advance, embodied in the "air superiority" fighters that have dominated the skies ever since. Building on the multi-role capabilities of third-generation fighter jets, there was a renewed emphasis on dogfighting capability in response to the actual conduct of battle over Southeast Asia and the Middle East (one aspect of which was the development of more agile aircraft, able to handle 8, 9 and 10-G maneuvers). It was also with this generation that fighters started to become truly effective in beyond-visual range engagements. (In most of the air wars of the '60s and early '70s, most of the kills achieved by the second- and third-generation fighters involved were actually achieved at short-range, with guns and infra-red-seeking missiles. By contrast, the U.S. Air Force in the 1991 Gulf War achieved most of its aerial kills using radar-guided Sparrow missiles.)
In more strictly technological terms, while the performance of fourth-generation fighters as measured by speed, range and payload did not change much, turbojets were largely supplanted by more efficient turbofans, and earlier hydraulic control systems by lightweight, redundant fly-by-wire systems. Additionally, look-down/shoot-down capability became standard in their radars. Aircraft controls also changed, with hands-on-throttle-and-stick (HOTAS) configurations (putting buttons and switches on the throttle and control stick so the pilot can access them without removing their hands from them) and Multi-Function Displays (in place of earlier strips and dials) increasingly the norm, bringing about the advent of the "glass cockpit." Datalinks also became a regular feature, the better to facilitate the coordination of large-scale battles by airborne command and control systems (a function performed in the American case by the Joint Tactical Information Distribution System).
Most of the fighter jets in front-line service today-such as the American F-15, F-16 and F/A-18, the French Mirage 2000, the British-German-Italian Tornado, and the Soviet MiG-29 and Sukhoi-27-fall into this category.
Fifth-generation fighters are only beginning to appear now, with the only one actually in service the American F-22. (No other proposed fifth-generation plane has even flown as a prototype, though the Russian-Indian Sukhoi-PAK program has reportedly produced three prototypes, with the plane expected to fly within the year.)
Fifth-generation fighters are distinguished from fourth-generation fighters (on the multi-role character of which they build) primarily by their incorporation of all-aspect stealth and supercruise capability (essentially, they can fly at supersonic speed without using afterburners, not changing their maximum speed much but making for a much higher cruising speed, 1,140 miles an hour for the F-22, compared with just half as much for the F-15). The thrust-vectoring capabilities that were once unique to specialized aircraft (like the Harrier), helmet-mounted displays, Active Electronically Scanned Array (or phased array) radars (the use of multiple radiating elements, which not only permits more contol over scans, but makes their signal difficult to detect passively, and more difficult to jam), Infra-Red Search and Track (IRST) systems in place of older Forward Looking Infra-Red (FLIR) sensors and "sensor fusion" (integrating data from multiple sensors), also seem to be standard on these.
That said, it seems easy enough to tell the difference between a fifth-generation F-22 and a first-generation F-86, for instance, or a fourth-generation MiG-29 and a second-generation MiG-21, but there are plenty of points in between where the line is harder to draw. Aircraft upgrades confuse the issue, in instances, by giving the aircraft of one generation some of the capabilities of more modern aircraft; for example, later versions of the first-generation F-86 were equipped with the air-to-air missiles associated with second-generation aircraft. Likewise, there are cases where technologies that only later became standard appeared in an earlier generation of aircraft-like the HOTAS control configuration or the supercruise capabilities of the second-generation Lightning, or the helmet-mounted sights and IRSTs featured in fourth-generation Soviet jets like the MiG-29 and Sukhoi-27 (while in other respects lagging a bit, the MiG-29 relying on older-style hydraulics rather than fly-by-wire).
Some aircraft also represent intermediate stages from their beginnings on the drawing board, as is now the case with many of the planes competing for contracts with premier air forces-like the American F-35, the French Rafale, the Eurofighter Typhoon, and the Swedish Saab-39 (all of them "generation 4.5" or "4+ and 4++" jets), just as the "Super Hornet" derivative of the F-18, and the later variants of the MiG-29 and Sukhoi-27 do. Simply put, they are designed with a mix of fourth- and fifth-generation capabilities-for instance, supercruise capability and phased array radar, but only limited stealth (as with the Typhoon).
Nonetheless, despite the ambiguities it seems that the divisions still have some value, and make the point that a sixth-generation fighter would have to incorporate not merely quantitative improvements over a fifth-generation plane like the F-22 (for instance, its having more bandwidth), but qualitative changes in its propulsion, sensors, controls and other fundamental areas of its design and performance comparable to those described above.
What might those be? For the time being the writing on the subject is rather vague and speculative, but John A. Tirpak writing in Air Force Magazine in October 2009 mentions key traits as including the capacity to change its shape in flight, hypersonic speed and directed-energy weaponry. (Incidentally, those who check out his article can examine a slightly different version of the schema given above, which gives special attention to the middle ground between generations four and five.)
One might also guess that its stealthiness will extend to new spectra, perhaps to include invisibility to the naked eye. (Going by an article I read in the May 1997 Popular Science which described, among other things, an experiment with a modified F-15-"Hiding in Plane Sight"-I figured we'd be way past that point by now.) Given the strain the performance of these aircraft may place on a human pilot, and what is suggested about the progress of artificial intelligence, they may be unmanned and even autonomous.
Perhaps. However, I find myself wondering if there really will be call for a sixth-generation fighter circa 2030, for three reasons.
#1. The Actual Rate of Technological Change (Slower or Faster).
On the one hand, it may be that the requisite technologies will never quite be realized-the incorporation of hypersonic flight, for instance, proving to be further off than expected. Indeed, the argument has already been made for the "senility" of major conventional weapons systems like combat aircraft.
On the other hand, it may be that so much else will take place between now and then with regard to high-end war-fighting systems that even a substantially more evolved fighter aircraft will have little place in the battlespace-for instance, because of a rapid evolution of space war-fighting systems that renders old-fashioned air superiority moot.
#2. Economic Stagnation.
Regardless of the uncertain limitations to technological advance over the next generation or two, it is worth noting that each succeeding generation of jet aircraft has been more expensive, resulting in fewer purchases and shorter production runs, even as the number of types built as part of any one generation has shrunk-which cannot but have consequences. It can be pointed out, for instance, that while an F-22 may cost five times as much as an F-15C, it can do things five F-15s cannot-but at the same time, there will be situations where the larger number of aircraft has its uses, and these may be more plausible, so that the combination of budgetary constraints, cost-and mission (see below)-will make a larger number of less-sophisticated aircraft more attractive.
It is conceivable that the rising cost of military systems (especially if the world economy stagnates in the 21st century) will result in a next-generation fighter being prohibitively expensive for even the largest powers. As things stand, even the most affluent governments increasingly rely on international collaboration and international sales to cover the costs of their high-tech weapons programs. Britain, which once produced its own jet fighters domestically, had to partner with Germany and Italy to produce the Tornado, and an even larger-scale collaboration to produce the Typhoon. Russia, even with its economy bouyed by higher energy prices, partnered with India to produce its fifth-generation fighter. The U.S. is relying on a broad international partnership (including the U.K., Italy, the Netherlands, Turkey, Canada, Australia, Denmark and Norway) in the development and production of the F-35 (as well as the foreign sales they will bring). This seems especially likely to be the case in the event of the above two factors being operative, especially should they also combine with the stagnation of the world economy in the 21st century (or depending on one's outlook, its continuing to stagnate).
#3. Changing Military Missions.
Large-scale conventional warfare between states-and especially great powers-may exercise a smaller influence over the priorities of the major militaries. Of course, it is commonly considered ahistorical complacency to deemphasize interstate warfare, but the fact remains that two decades have passed since the Cold War's end without the U.S. trading fire with a "large peer competitor." A host of factors, like the spread of nuclear weapons (and in particular, robust strategic nuclear arsenals complete with second-strike capabilities) and international economic integration (most evident in Europe, but significant elsewhere), work against such a prospect ever getting closer. Meanwhile, counterinsurgency, peacekeeping and other, "alternative" missions-to which late-generation fighters contribute little-continue to dominate the actual, practical life of the major militaries. This trend may not be irreversible (indeed, it has been speculated that intensified resource competition, or the hijack of a major state by a radical clique may "turn the '20s into the '30s"), but the shift would nonetheless make a difference to which projects got R & D money, which systems got ordered. Not only is this worth noting given the current high profile of generation 4.5 aircraft, but signs of renewed interest in even much less-sophisticated systems, with the U.S. Air Force (admittedly, at civilian direction) taking a new interest in small war gear like "light fighters." In short, fifth-generation systems would be just as irrelevant as if they had been superseded by a fundamentally new technology.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Global Energy Crunch
Jorg Friedrichs-whose earlier paper "Global Energy Crunch: How Different Parts of the World Would React to a Peak Oil Scenario" I mentioned on this blog back in October-has a new paper out on the same issue, "Peak Oil Trajectories: Same Crisis, Different Responses." Setting aside the case for and against the peak oil theory (referring the reader to other papers, my own "The Impending Oil Shock" included, for a quick overview), it similarly concentrates on reactions to the situation.
Tracking three possible trajectories, "predatory militarism, totalitarian retrenchment and socioeconomic adaptation" (based on the cases of Japan, North Korea and Cuba examined in the previous paper, and revisited here), much of its analysis will be familiar to those who read the first paper, but this second one offers a more comprehensive and polished set of projections-which are, perhaps predictably, "not a cosy world to imagine" as Friedrichs notes. However, as he rightly notes, the scenario (which differs from my own in key points, not least of them his predictions of how the standing of Europe and Japan would shift relative to that of the U.S.) nonetheless should not be treated dismissively.
Tracking three possible trajectories, "predatory militarism, totalitarian retrenchment and socioeconomic adaptation" (based on the cases of Japan, North Korea and Cuba examined in the previous paper, and revisited here), much of its analysis will be familiar to those who read the first paper, but this second one offers a more comprehensive and polished set of projections-which are, perhaps predictably, "not a cosy world to imagine" as Friedrichs notes. However, as he rightly notes, the scenario (which differs from my own in key points, not least of them his predictions of how the standing of Europe and Japan would shift relative to that of the U.S.) nonetheless should not be treated dismissively.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
The State of Food Insecurity in the World 2009
The latest edition of the annual State of Food Insecurity in the World report from the UN's Food and Agricultural Organization has just come out, and is getting a fair amount of attention-not least, because it is presenting a side of life overlooked by those given to ecstasies over globalization. Not only is it the case that the attainment of the heavily-hyped Millennium Goals seems very unlikely, but the number of "undernourished" people is actually rising, crossing the 1 billion person mark this year for the first time. As noted in the report, "The increase in food insecurity is not a result of poor crop harvests but because high domestic food prices, lower incomes and increasing unemployment have reduced access to food by the poor."
Particularly worth noting is that the progress of the '70s, '80s and early '90s was, despite the slowing of the world's population growth (p. 11), reversed in the middle of that decade (not incidentally, when Thomas Friedman-style hucksterism and mindless tech-boom hype came to dominate economic dialogue), with hunger increasing in the Asia-Pacific region, the Near East and Africa (p. 9).
Simply put, structural factors are at work, not least that "developing countries today [are] more financially and commercially integrated into the world economy than they were 20 years ago, [so that] they are far more exposed to shocks in international markets" (p. 4), and a pattern of falling private and public investment (with agricultural investment not exempt) amid the budgetary pressures (p. 39) which have been widely acknowledged as the norm in the post-'73 period.
The deterioration worsened during the "food and fuel crisis of 2006-2008," a result of which was that
Particularly worth noting is that the progress of the '70s, '80s and early '90s was, despite the slowing of the world's population growth (p. 11), reversed in the middle of that decade (not incidentally, when Thomas Friedman-style hucksterism and mindless tech-boom hype came to dominate economic dialogue), with hunger increasing in the Asia-Pacific region, the Near East and Africa (p. 9).
Simply put, structural factors are at work, not least that "developing countries today [are] more financially and commercially integrated into the world economy than they were 20 years ago, [so that] they are far more exposed to shocks in international markets" (p. 4), and a pattern of falling private and public investment (with agricultural investment not exempt) amid the budgetary pressures (p. 39) which have been widely acknowledged as the norm in the post-'73 period.
The deterioration worsened during the "food and fuel crisis of 2006-2008," a result of which was that
domestic staple food prices [were] . . . on average, 17 percent higher in real terms than two years earlier. The price increases had forced many poor families to sell assets or sacrifice health care, education or food just to stay afloat (p. 4).Given the precariousness of the world's economic recovery, and the likelihood that another fuel crisis may not be too far off (even if the decline in oil prices and the explosion of the mortgage crisis diverted attention, the foundations of the argument that peak oil may not be far away have not vanished), the possibility that things might get worse still has to be taken seriously-and offers all the more reason to ask questions too long avoided.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Century of War: Politics, Conflicts and Society Since 1914, by Gabriel Kolko
New York: The New Press, 1994, pp. 546.
In Century of War, noted historian and foreign policy commentator Gabriel Kolko focuses on the effect of war on civilian populations, and the political consequences of those effects. Predictably it devotes considerable attention to writing history from the "bottom-up," not a new idea by any means (a hundred years ago, Peter Kropotkin was offering such a take on the events of 1789 in The Great French Revolution), but it remains the rarity--too rare, to go by the content of pop history, which is absolutely dominated by "great man history" and "gentlemen's history." Military history (a robust, if incomplete, critique of which can be found in Jeremy Black's study of the field) has been perhaps more wide-ranging, but has only rarely taken this tack.
Kolko is wary of offering general theories, and stresses the need to pay attention to the specifics of historical situations. Nonetheless, he identifies significant recurring patterns, not least of them the impact of domestic class structures on policymaking, and in particular that:
* The pursuit of concrete foreign and defense policy objectives of states necessarily interacts with the domestic (e.g., class) interests of national elites.
* Careerist pressures, and the socialization of decisionmakers more broadly, tend to weed out those capable of seeing the holes in the "conventional wisdom," and willing to call it, so as to sharply narrow the range of ideas and options regarded as "realistic" and "serious"-and to undermine any institutional learning processes, and lead to the repetition of the same mistakes.
* The remainder of society (e.g. the working classes) acquiesces to the lead of elites out of apathy (or risk-avoidance) at least as much as approval, their primary concern being their own private lives.
In the twentieth century, war has been the great accelerant of otherwise slow social processes, because it disrupts the day-to-day lives of the usually passive majority, frequently making politicization a matter of life or death, without which it is difficult to understand crucial developments in this period, such as the rise of fascism, or the wave of decolonization which followed the end of World War II. Kolko notes as particularly significant the effects of military mobilization, inflation-the great traumatizer of the middle class-and demographic shifts that may ensue as a result of related economic developments, or deliberate military action. He also points to the role that war has played in concentrating business, a process Kolko has long described as not simply a reflection of Marxist "laws of economics," but also of state action (as in his classic study of the Progressive era, The Triumph of Conservatism), the military build-ups involved leading to government-assisted consolidations of industrial enterprises and contributing powerfully to their accumulation of capital through government orders.
In Kolko's view these patterns have much to do with the nature of twentieth century warfare, and in particular its tendency to defy the expectations of leaders (typically exemplifying the worst of what Kolko describes in their socialization process, and frequently obsessed with their "credibility") planning on quick, cheap victory. Time and again those leaders instead find their countries embroiled in conflicts that escape their control--despite their increasingly developed technology and expanded firepower, which serve only to make war more expensive, more destructive and more brutal (as in its explicit targeting of civilians). The result is that not only do the wars started by such elites prove much more costly in economic, human and political terms than they imagined, but they drive the consensus within their societies to (and often beyond) the breaking point.
The revolutions that followed in the wake of these disasters (as with those in Russia, Germany, China and Vietnam, all examined in some depth) have tended to be less a matter of a group bringing down an order through its actions than the collapse of that order, following which a new group (typically that most capable of articulating the desires of their countrymen, and making fewer tactical and strategic mistakes than its rivals) steps in. They typically fail to deliver the changes they promise, however, because political movements such as these too draw their fair share of ambitious, self-serving, opportunist careerists; while Kolko also sees the elitism of the Leninist political model (centered on a small "vanguard party" of activists rather than really mass-based movements) as having been a poor foundation for deep, broad, progressive change.
Indeed, in his view they have been such a drag on these movements that where at this time Francis Fukuyama was proclaiming "the end of history" (essentially, the victory of capitalism-democracy over all other social models), Kolko, who went so far as to speculate that socialism may have had a better track record of success without the 1917 Russian Revolution, saw the "bankruptcy" of Marxism and Leninism at the end of the Cold War as clearing the way for a reconstruction of socialism along new lines.
It is putting it mildly to say that a great many readers will find that prognosis doubtful (more now, perhaps, than at the time of the book's writing). However, Kolko's book--which is meticulously researched and argued, combines great breadth with great attention to detail, and for all that is highly readable--still offers a great deal that should be of interest to readers of all ideological persuasions for its attention to the interactions between war and the rest of social, political and economic life. Those interested in Kolko's larger body of work will find this a particularly significant piece of his longstanding project of critiquing the Marxist legacy from the left.
In Century of War, noted historian and foreign policy commentator Gabriel Kolko focuses on the effect of war on civilian populations, and the political consequences of those effects. Predictably it devotes considerable attention to writing history from the "bottom-up," not a new idea by any means (a hundred years ago, Peter Kropotkin was offering such a take on the events of 1789 in The Great French Revolution), but it remains the rarity--too rare, to go by the content of pop history, which is absolutely dominated by "great man history" and "gentlemen's history." Military history (a robust, if incomplete, critique of which can be found in Jeremy Black's study of the field) has been perhaps more wide-ranging, but has only rarely taken this tack.
Kolko is wary of offering general theories, and stresses the need to pay attention to the specifics of historical situations. Nonetheless, he identifies significant recurring patterns, not least of them the impact of domestic class structures on policymaking, and in particular that:
* The pursuit of concrete foreign and defense policy objectives of states necessarily interacts with the domestic (e.g., class) interests of national elites.
* Careerist pressures, and the socialization of decisionmakers more broadly, tend to weed out those capable of seeing the holes in the "conventional wisdom," and willing to call it, so as to sharply narrow the range of ideas and options regarded as "realistic" and "serious"-and to undermine any institutional learning processes, and lead to the repetition of the same mistakes.
* The remainder of society (e.g. the working classes) acquiesces to the lead of elites out of apathy (or risk-avoidance) at least as much as approval, their primary concern being their own private lives.
In the twentieth century, war has been the great accelerant of otherwise slow social processes, because it disrupts the day-to-day lives of the usually passive majority, frequently making politicization a matter of life or death, without which it is difficult to understand crucial developments in this period, such as the rise of fascism, or the wave of decolonization which followed the end of World War II. Kolko notes as particularly significant the effects of military mobilization, inflation-the great traumatizer of the middle class-and demographic shifts that may ensue as a result of related economic developments, or deliberate military action. He also points to the role that war has played in concentrating business, a process Kolko has long described as not simply a reflection of Marxist "laws of economics," but also of state action (as in his classic study of the Progressive era, The Triumph of Conservatism), the military build-ups involved leading to government-assisted consolidations of industrial enterprises and contributing powerfully to their accumulation of capital through government orders.
In Kolko's view these patterns have much to do with the nature of twentieth century warfare, and in particular its tendency to defy the expectations of leaders (typically exemplifying the worst of what Kolko describes in their socialization process, and frequently obsessed with their "credibility") planning on quick, cheap victory. Time and again those leaders instead find their countries embroiled in conflicts that escape their control--despite their increasingly developed technology and expanded firepower, which serve only to make war more expensive, more destructive and more brutal (as in its explicit targeting of civilians). The result is that not only do the wars started by such elites prove much more costly in economic, human and political terms than they imagined, but they drive the consensus within their societies to (and often beyond) the breaking point.
The revolutions that followed in the wake of these disasters (as with those in Russia, Germany, China and Vietnam, all examined in some depth) have tended to be less a matter of a group bringing down an order through its actions than the collapse of that order, following which a new group (typically that most capable of articulating the desires of their countrymen, and making fewer tactical and strategic mistakes than its rivals) steps in. They typically fail to deliver the changes they promise, however, because political movements such as these too draw their fair share of ambitious, self-serving, opportunist careerists; while Kolko also sees the elitism of the Leninist political model (centered on a small "vanguard party" of activists rather than really mass-based movements) as having been a poor foundation for deep, broad, progressive change.
Indeed, in his view they have been such a drag on these movements that where at this time Francis Fukuyama was proclaiming "the end of history" (essentially, the victory of capitalism-democracy over all other social models), Kolko, who went so far as to speculate that socialism may have had a better track record of success without the 1917 Russian Revolution, saw the "bankruptcy" of Marxism and Leninism at the end of the Cold War as clearing the way for a reconstruction of socialism along new lines.
It is putting it mildly to say that a great many readers will find that prognosis doubtful (more now, perhaps, than at the time of the book's writing). However, Kolko's book--which is meticulously researched and argued, combines great breadth with great attention to detail, and for all that is highly readable--still offers a great deal that should be of interest to readers of all ideological persuasions for its attention to the interactions between war and the rest of social, political and economic life. Those interested in Kolko's larger body of work will find this a particularly significant piece of his longstanding project of critiquing the Marxist legacy from the left.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Revisiting Head to Head
Lester Thurow's book Head to Head: The Coming Economic Battle Among Japan, Europe and America (New York: Morrow, 1992, pp. 336) is perhaps the first serious book on economics and business I looked at, and reviewing it now is a powerful reminder of how different the last two decades have been from the expectations current then.
His book cast the first half of the 21st century as a three-way competition between economic quasi-blocs—the United States/NAFTA, a German-led European Community (which he pictured potentially stretching all the way to the Pacific as it incorporated the former Soviet Union, with the help of a Marshall Plan for Eastern Europe) and Japan-as the post-World War II GATT (General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade) died.
His bet was on the EU because of the sheer size of its market, and the range of competencies it could bring to bear, though he also expected the U.S. to address many of the problems that the "declinists" of the 1980s and early 1990s (correctly) identified-deindustrialization, unsustainable trade deficits, the drag on the economy of a bloated and underperforming health care system, low educational standards and underinvestment in infrastructure-while the world economy went on to even brisker growth in the 1990-2030 period than it saw in the 1950-1990 era.
Instead of dying, GATT survived and flourished, becoming institutionalized in the World Trade Organization. Meanwhile, China and India, which Thurow dismissed as certain to be of little importance in this period, emerged as economic heavyweights (though not without serious problems or obstacles in their paths). Japan stagnated in the 1990s, while Euroskeptics disdainful of the continent's way of doing business, despite a penchant for gross exaggerations (and outright intellectual dishonesty), found sufficient ammunition in the realities of the EU to flourish. (The disparity in GDP growth between continental Europe and the U.S. in the 1990s and 2000s, for instance, virtually disappears when the figures are adjusted for higher U.S. population growth, the expenses of German reunification, and the greater outlays the U.S. makes for questionable results in areas like health care, for instance.) Certainly the idea of the EU launching a Marshall Plan for Eastern Europe seems wildly implausible in hindsight, and almost twenty years on, the inclusion of Russia in the organization seems remote.
Additionally, worldwide global economic growth has only continued to suffer, in the 1990s and 2000s running far below the levels seen in the 1960s, 1970s and perhaps even the 1980s, such weak growth as has occurred (which according to the calculations of Alan Freeman may have barely kept pace with population growth) unraveling in the economic contraction that has dominated business news these last two years.
This left the U.S., despite its failure to deal with the problems he identified (all of which have got worse in the view of most of those observers willing to acknowledge their existence), and its being no exception to the pattern of unimpressive growth rates for the period (excepting the now-long faded "tech" boom of the late 1990s) looking the winner, and the "Anglo-Saxon way" (in labor relations, for instance) appearing to be the only way.
Still, given the pieties of our times, Thurow seems refreshingly frank about the limits and failings of markets in theory and in practice, and of the weaknesses of the economic model favored by the U.S. (and Britain), while his observations about the deficiencies of the track on which the U.S. economy was clearly moving in the 1980s seem to have been validated by the problems it continues to face today. It is also well worth remembering that even if Germany and Japan have not performed as well as had been hoped earlier, they remain great industrial powers, and great exporting nations, as the U.S. continues heading in the opposite direction with its deindustrialization and ever-larger trade deficits. There can be little question that despite doing quite a few things wrong, they've also done quite a few right, and that the debate over the path to prosperity-reopened during the recent global contraction, but closing again fast as opinion-makers breathe sighs of relief-is nowhere near over.
His book cast the first half of the 21st century as a three-way competition between economic quasi-blocs—the United States/NAFTA, a German-led European Community (which he pictured potentially stretching all the way to the Pacific as it incorporated the former Soviet Union, with the help of a Marshall Plan for Eastern Europe) and Japan-as the post-World War II GATT (General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade) died.
His bet was on the EU because of the sheer size of its market, and the range of competencies it could bring to bear, though he also expected the U.S. to address many of the problems that the "declinists" of the 1980s and early 1990s (correctly) identified-deindustrialization, unsustainable trade deficits, the drag on the economy of a bloated and underperforming health care system, low educational standards and underinvestment in infrastructure-while the world economy went on to even brisker growth in the 1990-2030 period than it saw in the 1950-1990 era.
Instead of dying, GATT survived and flourished, becoming institutionalized in the World Trade Organization. Meanwhile, China and India, which Thurow dismissed as certain to be of little importance in this period, emerged as economic heavyweights (though not without serious problems or obstacles in their paths). Japan stagnated in the 1990s, while Euroskeptics disdainful of the continent's way of doing business, despite a penchant for gross exaggerations (and outright intellectual dishonesty), found sufficient ammunition in the realities of the EU to flourish. (The disparity in GDP growth between continental Europe and the U.S. in the 1990s and 2000s, for instance, virtually disappears when the figures are adjusted for higher U.S. population growth, the expenses of German reunification, and the greater outlays the U.S. makes for questionable results in areas like health care, for instance.) Certainly the idea of the EU launching a Marshall Plan for Eastern Europe seems wildly implausible in hindsight, and almost twenty years on, the inclusion of Russia in the organization seems remote.
Additionally, worldwide global economic growth has only continued to suffer, in the 1990s and 2000s running far below the levels seen in the 1960s, 1970s and perhaps even the 1980s, such weak growth as has occurred (which according to the calculations of Alan Freeman may have barely kept pace with population growth) unraveling in the economic contraction that has dominated business news these last two years.
This left the U.S., despite its failure to deal with the problems he identified (all of which have got worse in the view of most of those observers willing to acknowledge their existence), and its being no exception to the pattern of unimpressive growth rates for the period (excepting the now-long faded "tech" boom of the late 1990s) looking the winner, and the "Anglo-Saxon way" (in labor relations, for instance) appearing to be the only way.
Still, given the pieties of our times, Thurow seems refreshingly frank about the limits and failings of markets in theory and in practice, and of the weaknesses of the economic model favored by the U.S. (and Britain), while his observations about the deficiencies of the track on which the U.S. economy was clearly moving in the 1980s seem to have been validated by the problems it continues to face today. It is also well worth remembering that even if Germany and Japan have not performed as well as had been hoped earlier, they remain great industrial powers, and great exporting nations, as the U.S. continues heading in the opposite direction with its deindustrialization and ever-larger trade deficits. There can be little question that despite doing quite a few things wrong, they've also done quite a few right, and that the debate over the path to prosperity-reopened during the recent global contraction, but closing again fast as opinion-makers breathe sighs of relief-is nowhere near over.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
A Question of Balance (RAND on the China-Taiwan Conflict)
Over at Wired's Danger Room (you can see it in my blog list) David Axe offers a nice summary of a new RAND study, A Question of Balance: Political Context and Military Aspects of the China-Taiwan Dispute. The study's authors (David A. Shlapak, David T. Orletsky, Toy I. Reid, Murray Scot Tanner, Barry Wilson) argue that "Looking to the near future, improved air defense capabilities, including shipboard defenses, a growing inventory of modern fourth generation fighters, and a powerful and flexible force of offensive ballistic missiles place in jeopardy the long-held assumption of the defense’s control of the skies over the Taiwan Strait and Taiwan’s coastline" (p. 118).
The 185 page study, the PDF edition of which can (like much of that think tank's output) be accessed freely online, posits a scenario circa 2013 in which China uses those ballistic missiles to suppress the Taiwanese Air Force and make it a simpler matter for its own modernized air force (which might deploy 350 to 400 generation 3.5 and generation 4 fighters, while benefiting from better electronic warfare and precision guided munitions capabilities) to seize air superiority over the island (especially in the event that the missile attacks hit U.S. bases on Okinawa).
Chapter 3 works out the details with regard to the missile attack, Chapter 4 those with regard to the aerial fighting. This makes for a much more effective assault of any sort, and raises the odds of a successful invasion (the focus of Chapter 5)--but the latter (which the authors acknowledge is the "only . . . military course of action that guarantees China control of Taiwan") remains pretty unlikely. Even assuming the expansion of China's assault fleet in accordance with the scenario described it would have the capacity to deliver only 30,000 troops to the beachheads, far too few to conquer the island--and even these would not be certain of getting there, even with air superiority, because of land-based cruise missiles, mines, helicopters and fire from ground forces on the Taiwanese coast.
As a result, they conclude that "an invasion of Taiwan would, in the face of properly prepared defenses, remain a bold and possibly foolish gamble on Beijing’s part."
And even that may be overoptimistic. As David Axe points out, the study fails to properly acknowledge the impact U.S. submarines (and it might be added, Taiwan's subs as well) could have on the invasion, relegating it to a single footnote on page 118, though conceding that "their firepower would substantially increase the defenders’ odds of success."
It might also be suggested that the assumption of an attack on U.S. bases in Okinawa is a little too pat (as partially acknowledged in the sidebar on pages 86-87), given, if nothing else, the risk that Japan's own very large and very capable air and naval forces would enter the conflict, which would work strongly against China.
And then, of course, there is the broader political context, and all the factors in it that work against any decision to undertake a large-scale attack on Taiwan: that China has prioritized development over military confrontation; that China's trade with Taiwan, the U.S. and Japan approaches $800 billion a year, or about 18 percent of the country's GDP (measured at official exchange rates), and so could not be lightly jeopardized; that the damage China would likely do to its military establishment and its relations with key neighbors and trading partners apart from those it fights in such a scenario would damage its security position and diminish its influence, and its economic growth, for years to come, while likely subjecting the country to even worse internal stresses than a war against Taiwan would be meant to alleviate; and that "any PLA combat with U.S. forces involves China’s tacit acceptance of the risks of fighting a nuclear-armed superpower" (p. 86).
These factors may not make a conflict between mainland China and Taiwan impossible (a move toward formal, permanent independence on Taiwan's part is seen by many as an exception to China's usually scrupulous practice of rational realpolitik, in part because Taiwan's status is seen as an "internal matter" and key legitimacy issue), but I suspect they diminish the likelihood of a major conflict much more than is generally appreciated.
The 185 page study, the PDF edition of which can (like much of that think tank's output) be accessed freely online, posits a scenario circa 2013 in which China uses those ballistic missiles to suppress the Taiwanese Air Force and make it a simpler matter for its own modernized air force (which might deploy 350 to 400 generation 3.5 and generation 4 fighters, while benefiting from better electronic warfare and precision guided munitions capabilities) to seize air superiority over the island (especially in the event that the missile attacks hit U.S. bases on Okinawa).
Chapter 3 works out the details with regard to the missile attack, Chapter 4 those with regard to the aerial fighting. This makes for a much more effective assault of any sort, and raises the odds of a successful invasion (the focus of Chapter 5)--but the latter (which the authors acknowledge is the "only . . . military course of action that guarantees China control of Taiwan") remains pretty unlikely. Even assuming the expansion of China's assault fleet in accordance with the scenario described it would have the capacity to deliver only 30,000 troops to the beachheads, far too few to conquer the island--and even these would not be certain of getting there, even with air superiority, because of land-based cruise missiles, mines, helicopters and fire from ground forces on the Taiwanese coast.
As a result, they conclude that "an invasion of Taiwan would, in the face of properly prepared defenses, remain a bold and possibly foolish gamble on Beijing’s part."
And even that may be overoptimistic. As David Axe points out, the study fails to properly acknowledge the impact U.S. submarines (and it might be added, Taiwan's subs as well) could have on the invasion, relegating it to a single footnote on page 118, though conceding that "their firepower would substantially increase the defenders’ odds of success."
It might also be suggested that the assumption of an attack on U.S. bases in Okinawa is a little too pat (as partially acknowledged in the sidebar on pages 86-87), given, if nothing else, the risk that Japan's own very large and very capable air and naval forces would enter the conflict, which would work strongly against China.
And then, of course, there is the broader political context, and all the factors in it that work against any decision to undertake a large-scale attack on Taiwan: that China has prioritized development over military confrontation; that China's trade with Taiwan, the U.S. and Japan approaches $800 billion a year, or about 18 percent of the country's GDP (measured at official exchange rates), and so could not be lightly jeopardized; that the damage China would likely do to its military establishment and its relations with key neighbors and trading partners apart from those it fights in such a scenario would damage its security position and diminish its influence, and its economic growth, for years to come, while likely subjecting the country to even worse internal stresses than a war against Taiwan would be meant to alleviate; and that "any PLA combat with U.S. forces involves China’s tacit acceptance of the risks of fighting a nuclear-armed superpower" (p. 86).
These factors may not make a conflict between mainland China and Taiwan impossible (a move toward formal, permanent independence on Taiwan's part is seen by many as an exception to China's usually scrupulous practice of rational realpolitik, in part because Taiwan's status is seen as an "internal matter" and key legitimacy issue), but I suspect they diminish the likelihood of a major conflict much more than is generally appreciated.
On The Risk of Sino-Indian Confrontation
I remember a decade ago hearing about a Sino-Indian competition for influence in the Indian Ocean-not an entirely new thing then, but quite different with the loss of the old Cold War context (inside which China and India fought a month-long war in 1962, and China aligned itself with Pakistan while the Soviets sided with India), and the rapid growth of China's economic and military weight (providing it with a regional influence not seen in centuries). In particular there was a widespread impression that Myanmar was fast becoming an extension of China, and that very soon the Chinese navy would become very visible indeed in the Indian Ocean.
Talk about this competition seems to be heating up again with China's combat deployment of a naval unit to the western Indian Ocean to fight pirates (something India also did, one result of which was a reported stand-off that may have been overblown in the press), and recent Chinese projects aimed at developing port facilities in both Pakistan and Sri Lanka (widely interpreted as potential bases for the Chinese navy, though as ex-Indian Cabinet member B. Raman acknowledges in this paper, the Hambantota facility in Sri Lanka is not slated to become a base, nor likely to be used against India, even if the interest is "more strategic than purely commercial").
The launch of India's first nuclear sub last month seems likely not only to be viewed in this context, but also to be taken as another data point testifying to the rising danger level.1 As implied by the ambiguity of much of the above data, the talk strikes me as overblown. There are real conflicts between them (over border claims in the Himalayas and the status of Tibet), but the relationship between the two nations is more complex than implied in such discussions, considerable cooperation also taking place (in their negotiations with the industrial nations over matters like trade and climate policy, for instance), and some real signs of improvement, not the least of it the reopening of Nathu La (closed after the '62 war).
Additionally, predictions about the development of the military capability of both these nations consistently overestimate the rate of their expansion, and both of them have other, bigger concerns closer to home. Even overlooking the pressing domestic problems that (certainly in an age of climate change and potential energy scarcity) could make their economic booms go the way of the Brazilian miracle, their biggest military/security considerations are domestic upheaval and the collapse of neighboring states (Pakistan or Bangladesh in India's case, North Korea in China's). Even where the list of potential conventional conflicts is concerned, a Sino-Indian fight is far from the top of the list, and in particular a big sea war in the Indian Ocean. (As things stand, China lacks the means to control the Taiwan Strait, let alone project enough power into the Indian Ocean to fight the much bigger Indian Navy and Air Force at their home base; and of course, the nuclear element in the situation is likely to constrain the moves of both actors.)
Laying out a base prediction for the next century last month, my guess was that
NOTES
1. My analysis of the Arihant's launch can be found here. I emphasized in it that the sub does not yet represent a credible capability-as the ship will not be operational for some years, that a force of several subs is usually required for a continuously functional deterrent, and that the range of the missiles on-board is limited. This quickly attracted criticism, not all of which I agree with, but I do acknowledge the regional nature of the deterrent, the expectation that the missiles will be replaced with longer-range weapons, and that more subs are under construction, all of which may make it operational by the middle of the next decade.
Talk about this competition seems to be heating up again with China's combat deployment of a naval unit to the western Indian Ocean to fight pirates (something India also did, one result of which was a reported stand-off that may have been overblown in the press), and recent Chinese projects aimed at developing port facilities in both Pakistan and Sri Lanka (widely interpreted as potential bases for the Chinese navy, though as ex-Indian Cabinet member B. Raman acknowledges in this paper, the Hambantota facility in Sri Lanka is not slated to become a base, nor likely to be used against India, even if the interest is "more strategic than purely commercial").
The launch of India's first nuclear sub last month seems likely not only to be viewed in this context, but also to be taken as another data point testifying to the rising danger level.1 As implied by the ambiguity of much of the above data, the talk strikes me as overblown. There are real conflicts between them (over border claims in the Himalayas and the status of Tibet), but the relationship between the two nations is more complex than implied in such discussions, considerable cooperation also taking place (in their negotiations with the industrial nations over matters like trade and climate policy, for instance), and some real signs of improvement, not the least of it the reopening of Nathu La (closed after the '62 war).
Additionally, predictions about the development of the military capability of both these nations consistently overestimate the rate of their expansion, and both of them have other, bigger concerns closer to home. Even overlooking the pressing domestic problems that (certainly in an age of climate change and potential energy scarcity) could make their economic booms go the way of the Brazilian miracle, their biggest military/security considerations are domestic upheaval and the collapse of neighboring states (Pakistan or Bangladesh in India's case, North Korea in China's). Even where the list of potential conventional conflicts is concerned, a Sino-Indian fight is far from the top of the list, and in particular a big sea war in the Indian Ocean. (As things stand, China lacks the means to control the Taiwan Strait, let alone project enough power into the Indian Ocean to fight the much bigger Indian Navy and Air Force at their home base; and of course, the nuclear element in the situation is likely to constrain the moves of both actors.)
Laying out a base prediction for the next century last month, my guess was that
generalized economic stagnation (and the tendency toward short-term thinking reinforced by the economic culture) will encourage cautious, conservative statesmanship, risk-averse and commitment-shy (even if governments find it politically expedient to rattle their sabers and play up the foreign menace for the benefit of domestic consumption) . . . Accident, blunder or the hijack of foreign policy by fanatics inside of a key power will pose a bigger danger than any "inevitable" collision of essential state interests-[but] it is not to be taken lightly.That certainly holds for the situation in the Indian Ocean basin.
NOTES
1. My analysis of the Arihant's launch can be found here. I emphasized in it that the sub does not yet represent a credible capability-as the ship will not be operational for some years, that a force of several subs is usually required for a continuously functional deterrent, and that the range of the missiles on-board is limited. This quickly attracted criticism, not all of which I agree with, but I do acknowledge the regional nature of the deterrent, the expectation that the missiles will be replaced with longer-range weapons, and that more subs are under construction, all of which may make it operational by the middle of the next decade.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Rise of the Meritocracy, 1870-2033: The New Elite of Our Social Revolution, by Michael Young
New York: Random House, 1959, pp. 160.
Michael Young's The Rise of the Meritocracy is, of course, the book that brought that word into the language, presenting the titular event and its consequences as a piece of future history, composed by a sociologist of the 2030s, as a way of commenting on a current issue.
This future history imagines post-war Britain undergoing a very thoroughgoing scheme of social engineering, intended to make it internationally competitive in an age of intense scientific-technological-industrial competition, by closely connecting social position with merit. Here "merit" is essentially a function of IQ test score (as the nation's psychologists, apparently, have succeeded in eliminating the causes of underachievement), with the high scorers unfailingly streamed through the most lavish schooling available to elite positions, creating a hierarchy of affluence and status neatly in line with the hierarchy of intelligence and ability.
In his much more recent study of the history of standardized testing, The Big Test: The Secret History of the American Meritocracy, Nicholas Lemann (who devotes a full chapter to discussing Young's earlier book), rightly points out that Young seems naïve in expecting that
Nonetheless, like Aldous Huxley's Brave New World or George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four, this kind of story (and at one point, Young had intended to present it as a novel, on the advice of Leonard Woolf) is typically written with the purpose of taking an idea to its logical conclusion, rather than really plausible extrapolation--with the idea in this case the meritocratic principle. Young's point is, above all, the unavoidable problems to which inegalitarianism leads, even when it is more rationally arranged, and the need to diminish inequality rather than just rearrange it.
Some of the problems the book envisions could only rise in the kind of thoroughgoing meritocracy no real-world society has ever achieved, like the anxiety of parents knowing their children will do less well than they did (and knowing this from earlier and earlier on in their upbringing), not because of a weakening economy or increasing downward social mobility, but because of their lesser abilities on a genuinely level playing field; and the compromises and personal sacrifices entailed in the eugenics program intended to maximize the next generation's share of desired talents. Others, however, are only too familiar to our time, like the frustration of women, particularly educated, high-status women, who find themselves torn between child-rearing and family on the one hand, and career on the other; the narrowly utilitarian basis by which "merit" is judged in his future ("the ability to raise production, directly or indirectly"); the argument that "common" workers do not deserve, and ought not be afforded, a share of the gains in economic productivity; the push by a radical right-wing of the political spectrum for an acceptance of greater inequality on the grounds that earlier concessions to a more egalitarian society were wrong-headed and unnecessary; and the invocation of the imperatives of international competition as an excuse for harsh treatment of the lower orders.
The same goes for the idea of the gap in sympathy and concern between the ruling elite and the mass of the people whose lives they run, which the meritocratic rationale widens. Young's son, Toby Young (who of course does not deny his being a beneficiary of Britain's class system), noted in his book How to Lose Friends and Alienate People that the meritocratic idea (which as he notes, is undeniably powerful in the United States, despite its hugely flawed application, as Lemann also succinctly shows in the afterword to his own book) gives elites an excuse to wash their hands of those who fail to thrive, to look down on the "losers" of the world.
Thinking about that, I find myself coming back to Ayn Rand's most famous work, Atlas Shrugged (1957), which appeared at almost the same time, espousing a view toward the subject of meritocracy that is a hundred and eighty degrees away from what the elder Young set forth in his book. Rand's novel is by far the better known book among the general public in the United States today, and ironically, is becoming even more popular in the midst of an economic crisis that in other quarters has led to the widest and deepest questioning of the prevailing version of capitalism seen in some time.
Make of that what you will.
NOTES
1. Nicholas Lemann, The Big Test: The Secret History of the American Meritocracy (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1999), p. 118.
Michael Young's The Rise of the Meritocracy is, of course, the book that brought that word into the language, presenting the titular event and its consequences as a piece of future history, composed by a sociologist of the 2030s, as a way of commenting on a current issue.
This future history imagines post-war Britain undergoing a very thoroughgoing scheme of social engineering, intended to make it internationally competitive in an age of intense scientific-technological-industrial competition, by closely connecting social position with merit. Here "merit" is essentially a function of IQ test score (as the nation's psychologists, apparently, have succeeded in eliminating the causes of underachievement), with the high scorers unfailingly streamed through the most lavish schooling available to elite positions, creating a hierarchy of affluence and status neatly in line with the hierarchy of intelligence and ability.
In his much more recent study of the history of standardized testing, The Big Test: The Secret History of the American Meritocracy, Nicholas Lemann (who devotes a full chapter to discussing Young's earlier book), rightly points out that Young seems naïve in expecting that
inheritance of wealth and position would be abolished, that government would fund education so abundantly that private schools would wither away, that scientists would rule the society, and that schoolteachers would be highly paid.1Indeed, one could say that the degree of centralization, systematization and rationalization seen in the book (and also, the optimism about what applied social science would soon permit) appear awfully dated.
Nonetheless, like Aldous Huxley's Brave New World or George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four, this kind of story (and at one point, Young had intended to present it as a novel, on the advice of Leonard Woolf) is typically written with the purpose of taking an idea to its logical conclusion, rather than really plausible extrapolation--with the idea in this case the meritocratic principle. Young's point is, above all, the unavoidable problems to which inegalitarianism leads, even when it is more rationally arranged, and the need to diminish inequality rather than just rearrange it.
Some of the problems the book envisions could only rise in the kind of thoroughgoing meritocracy no real-world society has ever achieved, like the anxiety of parents knowing their children will do less well than they did (and knowing this from earlier and earlier on in their upbringing), not because of a weakening economy or increasing downward social mobility, but because of their lesser abilities on a genuinely level playing field; and the compromises and personal sacrifices entailed in the eugenics program intended to maximize the next generation's share of desired talents. Others, however, are only too familiar to our time, like the frustration of women, particularly educated, high-status women, who find themselves torn between child-rearing and family on the one hand, and career on the other; the narrowly utilitarian basis by which "merit" is judged in his future ("the ability to raise production, directly or indirectly"); the argument that "common" workers do not deserve, and ought not be afforded, a share of the gains in economic productivity; the push by a radical right-wing of the political spectrum for an acceptance of greater inequality on the grounds that earlier concessions to a more egalitarian society were wrong-headed and unnecessary; and the invocation of the imperatives of international competition as an excuse for harsh treatment of the lower orders.
The same goes for the idea of the gap in sympathy and concern between the ruling elite and the mass of the people whose lives they run, which the meritocratic rationale widens. Young's son, Toby Young (who of course does not deny his being a beneficiary of Britain's class system), noted in his book How to Lose Friends and Alienate People that the meritocratic idea (which as he notes, is undeniably powerful in the United States, despite its hugely flawed application, as Lemann also succinctly shows in the afterword to his own book) gives elites an excuse to wash their hands of those who fail to thrive, to look down on the "losers" of the world.
Thinking about that, I find myself coming back to Ayn Rand's most famous work, Atlas Shrugged (1957), which appeared at almost the same time, espousing a view toward the subject of meritocracy that is a hundred and eighty degrees away from what the elder Young set forth in his book. Rand's novel is by far the better known book among the general public in the United States today, and ironically, is becoming even more popular in the midst of an economic crisis that in other quarters has led to the widest and deepest questioning of the prevailing version of capitalism seen in some time.
Make of that what you will.
NOTES
1. Nicholas Lemann, The Big Test: The Secret History of the American Meritocracy (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1999), p. 118.
Second Quarter Growth, 2009
The Bureau of Economic Analysis has released its latest figures.
Interest naturally is focused on the country's second quarter performance. As predicted, U.S. GDP shrank again, for the fourth straight quarter.
However, this was not the only data awaited, the big once-every-five years update of the whole statistical base also appearing.
According to the BEA's National Economic Accounts the U.S.'s GDP shrank about 1.9 percent during 2008, when measured in chained 2005 dollars-mote than twice the estimate current before this latest recalculation, which had it at 0.8 percent. (Incidentally, the CIA's World Factbook officially lists U.S. GDP as having grown 1.3 percent that year, a very substantial difference.)
When the time frame is shifted just one quarter forward, to cover the twelve months between March 2008 and March 2009 (and three quarters of contraction), the U.S. economy appears to have shrunk by about 3.3 percent using the same measure (compared with 2.5 percent in the earlier calculation). Between June 2008 and June 2009, after four full quarters of economic contraction, it shrank by about 3.9 percent, about evenly divided over the two years.
In short, things were worse than they said.
Of course, bad as this looks, the "conventional wisdom" (I'll say it again: certainly conventional, but so rarely wise) is that we've seen the worst of it, noting that the drop in GDP slowed markedly in the second quarter (the economy contracting at an annual rate of just 1 percent, instead of the 5-6 percent rate of the three previous quarters), and the third quarter of 2009-this one, the one we're actually living in-will end with a return to growth in the U.S. and much of the world.
My take: the business press has been too quick to breathe a sigh of relief. As Rex Nutting of Marketwatch reports, consumers-constrained by still rising unemployment (into the double digits) which even optimists do not expect to see come down for a long while, the flat wage growth that goes along with that, and the maxing out of consumer credit-are in no position to generate the kind of demand that will keep real growth going, barring continuous, unsustainable stimulus injections of the kind that quadrupled U.S. Federal debt in the 1930s, and ran Japan deep into the red in the 1990s. (Indeed, the recent data suggests the drop in consumer spending was sharper than earlier recognized.)
Quite naturally, Larry Doyle asks "Are We in the Early Stages of a Economic Depression?" Of course, some might argue that we are already there, at least in some countries (Ireland, for instance, according to Ernst & Young), but what he means is the continued, prolonged deepening of the national and global economic contraction. No one wants the answer to be "yes," but taking the question too lightly could make that outcome more likely.
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