In the stone age, a man with a club was more powerful than a man without a club. Yet, in the contemporary age, this distinction is not as clear-cut. Modern day military power, though still partly dependent on advanced technology, is largely governed by its employment rather than its possession. With this, we can identify developing areas that play a larger role in determining military power. The introduction and integration of military technology coupled with different forms of knowledge are the ultimate determinant of military power. Still, the concept of nuclear taboo seeks to discredit this notion and theoretically dissects the constitution of “power” itself. Through an analysis of each area, we can determine military power is not solely based on the acquisition of the most advanced technology available.
The concept of introduction versus integration is essential to understanding the shifting power dynamics behind military superiority. Horowitz’s adoption capacity illustrates how integration can play a pivotal role in the effectiveness of a newly-introduced weapon. For example, while the invention of the rifle presented a radical and powerful piece of technology, industrialization allowed it to be developed thousands of times over by different militaries (Horowitz 43). As a result, the rifle’s “relative lethality” was compromised and it lost its initial power (Horowitz 43). In this sense, the degree of scarcity assigned to a piece of technology largely dictates its power. Military power thus becomes determined by the rarity of the technology, rather than its possession in bulk. This phenomenon becomes exponentially more prevalent in an age of mass replication, especially on the digital front. When applied to AI, adoption capacity theory becomes further exacerbated. Military-oriented AI is associated with high barriers to entry during the initial period of software development, followed by low barriers as soon as software is developed and able to freely diffuse (Horowitz 45). A state that expends capital in order to create “free” software is disadvantaged. In this sense, adoption capacity falls into Kenneth Arrow’s claim that knowledge is nonrival and nonexcludable, yet still risky and expensive to develop (Taylor 76). Additionally, this leaves room for less-developed countries to free ride on S&T developments and allocate a larger share of their military budgets to different forms of S&T. Adoption capacity thus shows possession of advanced technology can not only be ineffective but also a poor investment. This approach to adoption capacity highlights the notion that technological development alone is not the sole determinant of superiority. Rather, it is a combination of variables such as diffusion capabilities and the cost of S&T knowledge that truly determine military power.
An additional dimension to the military power arguments discerns the technological knowledge required to employ sophisticated S&T. Gilli and Gilli highlight the need for tacit knowledge, which includes experience and “know-how”, in order to most effectively stimulate S&T. Military technology has reached a point where it is unable to be codified and thus relies on those with tacit knowledge to institute it (Gilli 163). For this reason, imitation tactics such as reverse-engineering and espionage have become increasingly ineffective within the contemporary military landscape. Here, the focus is shifted away from military technology itself and onto the intellectual capacity of a state’s engineers and technicians. This phenomenon can be examined under the context of Imperial Germany’s imitation of the Dreadnought and China’s imitation of U.S. fifth generation fighters (Gilli 173). Whereas Germany was able to replicate an advanced battleship in three to five years, China still faces issues 20 years after its attempted replication of U.S. jets (Gilli 173). This instance illustrates a higher degree of success for states like the U.S. who invest in tacit knowledge, over those who invest in raw technology production in lieu of engineering “know-how.” Military power, therefore, can be determined by states who invest in the facilitation of technology rather than the technology itself.
The concept of nuclear taboo further complicates a clear-cut definition of military superiority. Neil Renic’s “Superweapon Peace” emphasizes a world full of radically-destructive weapons is perfectly balanced under a blanket of mutually-assured destruction (MAD) (Renic 132). Under this model, any state that strikes another first with a weapon of mass destruction would effectively trigger a response that assures its own demise. In this sense, war becomes irrational (Renic 135). Still, it is worth mentioning that the Superweapon Peace theory relies on a slew of assumptions, many of which may not hold true under contemporary wartime models. The theory largely downplays the role of uncertainty, where leaders in possession of nuclear weapons are expected to act completely rationally and thus never strike first (Renic 135). This leads to two schools of thought. In the first, a non-nuclear state may choose to free ride on the assumption that nuclear states will act rationally and preserve a peaceful gridlock. In the second, a non-nuclear state may be skeptical of nuclear states’ rationality and choose to develop nuclear weapons as a result. In both instances, however, a state falls victim to the potential consequences of MAD. Military power, therefore, is capped at a threshold that inadvertently incentivizes peace (Renic 143). This goes to show that even possession of the highest forms of military technology can enter a state into a standoff between other similarly-equipped world players.
The above components of military power can be exemplified through the technological plight of non-hegemonic states. Following the U.S.’s first-mover advantage post-WWII in semiconductor production, it chose to offshore most of its manufacturing facilities (Tassey 565). This enabled other economies’ experience in production technology and domestic demand for scientists and engineers (Tassey 565). Here, the U.S. placed less emphasis on domestic development of S&T, which ultimately prompted a drain in tacit knowledge. Now, there is a high probability U.S. workers will not be able to transition to the next, post-CMOS semiconductor stage (Tassey 569). In this sense, where the U.S. focused on developing the maximum quantity of advanced technology during the Cold War, other states focused on instituting an R&D infrastructure that favored longevity, rather than the quantity of S&T. This enabled them to be at the forefront of semiconductor technology instrumental to advanced military technology.
Overall, it is important to evaluate each aspect of military technology development in order to determine which are the most effective. A state’s first-mover advantage can end up harming it, especially in an age of easily-reproducible AI technology. Additionally, a state that invests in tacit knowledge may spur increased longevity of S&T development. These two aspects, however, operate under the umbrella of nuclear taboo, where the philosophical implications of hyper-advanced wartime technology are called into question.
Works Cited
Gilli, Andrea, and Mauro Gilli. “Why China Has Not Caught Up Yet: Military-Technological Superiority and the Limits of Imitation, Reverse Engineering, and Cyber Espionage.” International Security 43, no. 3 (February 2019): 141–89.
Horowitz, Michael C. “Artificial Intelligence, International Competition, and the Balance of Power.” Texas National Security Review 1, no. 3 (May 2018): 36–57.
Renic, Neil C. “Superweapons and the Myth of Technological Peace.” European Journal of International Relations 29, no. 1 (March 2023): 129–52.
Tassey, Gregory. “Globalization of Technology-Based Growth: The Policy Imperative.” The Journal of Technology Transfer 33, no. 6 (December 2008): 560–78.
Taylor, Mark Z. The Politics of Innovation: Why Some Countries Are Better Than Others at Science and Technology. Oxford University Press, 2016. [pp. 69-179]