All too often, today,
requirements are downgraded and then rationalized to explain why the downgrade
wasn’t actually a downgrade. Wake
up! Yes, it was a downgrade. Of course it was a downgrade.
Consider the highest level
military requirement that sets the priorities, force structures, acquisition
programs, etc. for the services.
Originally, after the collapse of the Soviet Union , the requirement was to be able to fight and win two
major regional wars simultaneously. That
has since been watered down to being able to win one regional conflict and
holding in another.
The 1997 Quadrennial Defense
Review put it this way,
“As a global power with worldwide interests, it is
imperative that the United States now and for the foreseeable future be able to
deter and defeat large-scale, cross-border aggression in two distant theaters
in overlapping time frames, preferably in concert with regional allies.
Maintaining this core capability is central to credibly deterring
opportunism—that is, to avoiding a situation in which an aggressor in one
region might be tempted to take advantage when U.S. forces are
heavily committed elsewhere… “
Despite that straightforward
statement, we have downgraded the requirement to fighting one regional conflict
and holding on in another and have rationalized that it’s a good thing. Why did we downgrade the requirement? It wasn’t because the threats decreased. It was simply because our military spending
was becoming greater and providing less return than in the past. Since we could no longer afford the force
structure required to simultaneously fight and win two major regional wars we
opted to change the requirement rather than change our procurement and spending
habits.
Or, consider the Navy’s
carrier requirements. After the Cold War,
the requirement was for 15 carriers. It
has subsequently worked its way down to 11 with serious discussions about
permanent reductions to 8-10. Our need
hasn’t changed. What’s changed is that
carriers are pricing themselves out of existence, slowly but surely. Each step of the way, the Navy rationalized
the reductions.
Or, consider the Marine’s
requirement for amphibious lift.
Depending on the source, the requirement is as high as 54 amphibious
ships. Another common number is 38. The Marines have “bargained” with the Navy
and settled on 33-34 as sufficient. The
actual number is 30 ships. The Marines
and Navy have rationalized the reductions every step of the way. Again, the requirements didn’t change – only
our ability to meet them changed so we rationalized our acquisition failure.
The point is that downgrades
are imposed by outside factors, budget being chief among them although
stupidity is also right up there, and then rationalization is applied to make
the downgrade seem palatable or even beneficial and preferred. Rationalization does not, however, change the
underlying facts of the matter or the requirements. If we needed 15 carriers, we probably still
do. If we needed to be able to fight and
win two major regional conflicts at the same time, we probably still do.
Well, that sets the stage
for our discussion of survivability.
By the end of WWII, we
pretty thoroughly understood what ship survivability meant and how to achieve
it. BuShips set the standards and
ensured that new construction met those standards. Now, BuShips is gone and accounting trumps
survivability.
For decades, survivability
has been defined by a very concise and crystal clear document, OpNavInst 9070.1,
issued from the CNO’s office on 23-Sep-1988 . It is a remarkable document
characterized by fundamental, concise, and obvious statements of
requirement. For example, the basic need
is acknowledged by the statement,
“Survivability shall be considered a fundamental
design requirement of no less significance than other inherent ship characteristics,
such as weight and stability margins, maneuverability, structural integrity and
combat systems capability.”
Clear. Simple.
Obvious. So, too, is this
statement.
“Ship protection features, such as armor, shielding
and signature reduction, together with installed equipment hardened to appropriate
standards, constitute a minimum
baseline of survivability.” [emphasis added]
The document goes on to
define three levels of survivability in short, simple, and unambiguous terms.
Level I
(lowest) represents the least severe environment anticipated and excludes the
need for enhanced survivability for designated ship classes to sustain
operations in the immediate area of an engaged Battle Group or in the general
war-at-sea region. In — this category, the minimum design capability required
shall, in addition to the inherent sea keeping mission, provide for EMP and
shock hardening, individual protection for CBR, including decontamination
stations, the DC/FF capability to control and recover from conflagrations and
include the ability to operate in a high latitude environment.
Level II
(middle) represents an increase of severity to include the ability for
sustained operations when in support of a Battle Group and in the general
war-at-sea area. This level shall provide the ability for sustained combat
operations following weapons impact. Capabilities shall include the
requirements of Level I plus primary and support system redundancy, collective protection
system, improved structural integrity and subdivision, fragmentation
protection, signature reduction, conventional and nuclear blast protection and
nuclear hardening.
Level III (highest) the most severe environment projected for combatant Battle
Groups, shall include the requirements of Level II plus the ability to deal
with the broad degrading effects of damage from anti-ship cruise missiles
(ASCMS), torpedoes and mines.
The document even defines
which ships shall have which level of survivability.
Ship
Type Level
Aircraft
Carriers III
Surface
Combatants III
Frigates
and Amphibious Warfare II
Underway
Replenishment Ships II
Patrol
Combatant and Mine Warfare I
Strategic
Sealift I
Support
Ships I
All
Other Auxiliary Ships/Craft I
Clear. Simple.
Obvious.
This should be the end of
the story. However, the Navy ran into a
little problem: the LCS. The LCS was designed with a sub-Level I
survivability. The Navy claimed that it
was designed with some made up Level I+ survivability but we already totally
debunked that. The Navy flat out lied
about that. In any event, because they
made the claim of survivability that was untrue and because the ship was
designed with sub-Level I, the Navy received much criticism and bad publicity. They fought the negative perception (the
reality, actually) for years but could not overcome the criticism especially
because their own policy, OpNavInst 9070.1 contradicted their claims and showed
that the LCS should have been built with Level II.
Eventually, after fighting a
losing battle for many years, the Navy decided that if they couldn’t defend
their claims, the easiest solution was to change the survivability standards so
that the LCS would meet the new, downgraded standards and the conversation
would end. To that end, the Navy made up
a new survivability “standard” which is documented in OpNavInst 9070.1A and was
issued by CNO Greenert on 13-Sep-2012 .
The new document takes a
previously simple, clear, straightforward, and logical requirement and turns it
into a nearly incomprehensible mishmash of generic and interlocking statements
that offer no specific guidance or requirements. It has reduced a very specific process to a
vague collection of “feelings” about survivability. That was, I believe, its intended purpose –
to so obscure the survivability issue that the Navy can now claim the LCS meets
the “standard”.
The document incorporates
aspects that have nothing to do with survivability. For example, it introduces cyberwarfare as an
element of survivability. Cyberwarfare
and cyber vulnerabilities may affect a platform’s ability to accomplish its
task but it is not a survivability issue.
Even the very definition of
survivability is flawed. Read it.
“Survivability. A measure of both the capability of
the ship, mission critical systems, and crew to perform assigned warfare
missions, and of the protection provided to the crew to prevent serious injury
or death.”
This definition is incorrect
and has nothing to do with survivability.
The measure of the ability to perform missions is not
survivability. Ability to perform
missions is effectiveness. Even the
protection for the crew is only somewhat related to survivability. Survivability is, pure and simple, the
ability of the ship to remain afloat in the face of combat and damage. The Navy can’t even define survivability!
The document then goes on to
list three principal disciplines of survivability: susceptibility,
vulnerability, and recoverability. The
subsequent definitions of these disciplines are as flawed and irrelevant as the
definition of survivability. I won’t
even bother quoting them. You can read
the document if you’re interested.
Ultimately, the document
goes on to offer tables and flowcharts of survivability, none of which offer
any concrete requirements. Everything is
fluid. Survivability can be anything you
want it to be. This takes today’s “feel
good” movement and codifies it in Navy documents.
We’ve taken a perfectly
simple, logical, and useful survivability requirement, downgraded it to the
point of uselessness, and rationalized it under some all-encompassing
assessment that has little to do with survivability. Why?
Because the Navy got tired of continually defending an expensive and
non-survivable ship.
If you can’t change the
survivability of the ship, change the definition of survivability! A typical Navy solution.