One of the book’s shining points is the recurring theme of adaptation. In building a model of a world in constant competition, Ryan provides a theoretical construct for competition that is accessible to the military professional. By identifying historical and modern cases for the importance of adaptation, he connects this to the modern reader by identifying adaptive requirements to the emerging trends in 21st century warfare, such as a new appreciation for the importance of time, new forms of mass, the battle for signatures, and human-machine integration. Strategists and operational planners will find even more utility in Ryan’s concept for counter-adaptation, in which he outlines ways for denying an adversary the ability to adapt to friendly operations.[4]
Leaders should also take note of the linkage of adaptation to institutional culture, which Ryan connects directly to military effectiveness. Ryan argues that without a culture open to self-examination, critique, and adaptation, military effectiveness will not be achieved. As today’s military practitioners find themselves tasked to develop and implement a litany of new operational concepts, they will be well served by Ryan’s argument for nurturing a culture that matches concepts to capacity, maintains a focus on their mission, and aligns their activities with their objectives.
Diagnosing several shortcomings found within most contemporary approaches to military learning, he proposes that a joint, integrated force can be better developed if military leaders are taught to be joint by design, rather than attempting to make officers joint qualified when they are over halfway through their careers.
Himself a noted writer on the subject of professional military education, it is no surprise that Ryan dedicates significant attention to the problem of intellectually developing military personnel. He argues for constructing a system of continuous learning, challenging military institutions to strategically design their efforts for training and education. Diagnosing several shortcomings found within most contemporary approaches to military learning, he proposes that a joint, integrated force can be better developed if military leaders are taught to be joint by design, rather than attempting to make officers joint qualified when they are over halfway through their careers. Similarly, Ryan proposes that learning will be enhanced through engagement with non-military institutions, a goal easily achievable through interaction with the interagency and civilian industry.[5]
Additionally, he makes a strong case for the applicability of speculative fiction as a means by which to develop plausible futures, anticipate challenges, and develop solutions. While many readers will be familiar with the genre of fiction intelligence, or FICINT, popularized by August Cole and Peter Singer through their novel Ghost Fleet, Ryan demonstrates that a long and wide-ranging application of science fiction for military education and planning exists and that this is a tool that is both useful and culturally acceptable to military organizations. Finally, Ryan makes the case for military educational institutions to formally repurpose a portion of their syllabi to deliberately study and solve emerging problems. In proposing the educational institution as think tank, Ryan again appeals to history, noting two key precedents: the U.S. Naval War College’s 1930s wargames that informed operations in the Pacific War, and the Marine Corps Schools’ task to its students to develop and write what would become the Tentative Manual for Landing Operations, which provided essential doctrine for amphibious operations conducted by the Allies in multiple theaters in World War II.[6]
Ryan’s boldest and perhaps most important argument is his critique of hyper-war, a type of conflict where there is no human in the loop; instead, military decision-making is entirely automated, provided by combinations of artificial general intelligence and machine learning.[7] Ryan is forthright: “I can think of no human endeavor that would benefit from it—especially war.”[8] To reach this conclusion, he contests that such a form of war is possible, but instead examines whether such an arrangement is desirable. Without skin in the game, such constructs will never be able to fully consider the human implications of their decisions.
War Transformed provides the necessary lens through which military practitioners must consider modern competition and conflict.
This, too, is an old argument, one that strikes at the heart of the quantitative versus the qualitative when assessing value. But the debate takes on new meaning when the technology to offload strategic decisions from human beings is rapidly becoming available. This discussion is revisited in the epilogue, where Ryan disputes the argument that technological advances are changing not just the character, but also the nature of war. Weighing different arguments regarding whether the nature of war could ever change, he contends that no such change will occur in the near future, and regardless of the possibilities, that “no AI can inspire humans to cohere, learn, fight, and sacrifice.”[9]
War Transformed provides the necessary lens through which military practitioners must consider modern competition and conflict. It describes the rapidly changing operational environment, frames its defining problems, and provides suitable answers to its many dilemmas. While confirming the importance of technological change, Ryan makes a compelling case to focus instead on people, institutions, and operational concepts in order to be successful. In challenging leaders to embrace adaptation and to build cultures of learning, War Transformed offers a reliable path forward through an increasingly uncertain future.
