In mid-October the British government announced the result of its Strategic Defence Review in parallel with its new budget. Given the financial crisis and the perceived need to reduce deficit spending, deep cuts were widely expected. The Royal Navy will still receive the two Queen Elizabeth-class carriers, but British participation in the short takeoff/vertical landing (STOVL) version of the Joint Strike Fighter (F-35B) has been canceled. The joint Royal Navy-Royal Air Force Harrier force is to be eliminated.
Since the carriers were designed without catapults or arresting gear, the first ship completed, HMS Queen Elizabeth, will have no fighter capability at all; she will be, in effect, a huge helicopter carrier. Her sister ship, HMS Prince of Wales, will be completed with catapults and arresting gear, a possibility inherent in the design. On completion she will operate Joint Strike Fighters (JSF), but in radically reduced numbers (12, according to the announcement, rather than 24 or more). Once the second ship has been completed, Queen Elizabeth will be either laid up or converted with catapults and arresting gear.
With the Harriers gone, the rationale for keeping the three small Invincible-class carriers in service has evaporated, and HMS Ark Royal is to be laid up at once. The Royal Navy is to retain a helicopter assault capability, however, and either HMS Ocean (which has experienced problems in service) or HMS Illustrious will be retained for that purpose.
Meanwhile, the frigate-destroyer force is to be cut from a nominal strength of 24 to 19 ships. Since many of the existing frigates are aging, the defense statement promises procurement of a new Type 26 class. This ship has been described either as a modular type that can be completed with high or low capability, or as a low-end supplement to the high-end Type 45 (Daring class) missile destroyer. Seven Astute-class submarines are to replace the current mix of nuclear-powered submarines, and the decision for replacement of the four Trident submarines has been deferred. It has been widely speculated that deferment is due to qualms on the part of the Liberals, the junior members of the ruling coalition, regarding the continued value of British nuclear deterrence.
Cuts to the RAF budget have included the end of the Nimrod force of maritime patrol aircraft. This project is badly over budget and behind schedule, and a previous attempt to adapt the same airframe to the national early-warning mission ended badly. When the current version of Nimrod was chosen to replace the Mk 1, the rules of the competition oddly required the British to adopt either a U.S. (P-3) or British airframe, and, respectively, either a British or a U.S. combat-direction, or mission, system. The Ministry of Defence chose the British airframe and the U.S. system, perhaps because those making the choice did not realize the mission system was the really valuable part of the contract since it alone was likely to secure export orders (Nimrod is a recycled airframe, and presumably would be very expensive to place back in production). The mission system was an early version of the one Boeing installs in the new U.S. P-8A. The real significance of the current British decision may be that ultimately the RAF will find itself buying P-8As, just as the last time a Nimrod version failed it bought the Boeing AWACS (E-3).
The two big carriers have probably survived because their contracts were written in such a way that they would be more expensive to cancel than to complete; it is not at all clear that those looking for deep cuts accepted the argument that Britain needed the ability to project power. However, it must be galling for the Royal Navy to accept the loss (even if temporary) of fixed-wing organic aviation.
The Wrong Choice
That loss can be traced directly to the unfortunate decision a few years ago to save a relatively small amount by betting on the F-35B instead of a more conventional fighter. In the process the Royal Navy was tied to a single new type of fighter, the failure of which would have rendered its new carrier toothless. The F-35B has not failed in any technological sense, but its cost has escalated enough to throw the British out of its program. Had the carrier been given conventional catapults and arresting gear, the British could have withdrawn from the spiraling cost of the Joint Strike Fighter and adopted a far less expensive carrier fighter such as the U.S. Super Hornet or the French Rafale, the latter giving them commonality with the French Navy.
The British decision may have further ramifications. The U.S. defense budget is also in trouble, not only because of the larger fiscal problem but because the war in Afghanistan has been incredibly expensive. The Joint Strike Fighter is currently among the largest items in the budget, and its cost continues to rise. It began as a relatively inexpensive airplane, its performance deliberately held back to limit its cost. Unfortunately those responsible for its avionics chose to claw back performance via avionics and, inevitably, software. For example, the JSF has several cameras in its belly. They are connected to the pilot’s helmet in such a way that he can look down and see, in effect, through the bottom of the airplane. He has a unique ability among pilots to see in any direction, whatever piece of airplane is in the way.
It was possible to add this sort of capability to a nominally inexpensive airplane because no one can reliably estimate the cost of software; it is apparently impossible to trade off software and avionics capabilities the way that, say, maximum speed can be traded off against expected cost. Effective procurement policy is about self-discipline, but to make self-discipline work there must be a way to estimate what a desired capability will cost.
The sheer size and cost of the JSF program make it a candidate for cancellation. But international participation makes it much more difficult—though not impossible— for the U.S. government to cancel a program. In the current case, many of the governments that have signed up for the JSF are likely rather uneasy about its escalating cost. The British were the major foreign participants in the F-35B program. They were certainly not the major prospective users—the Marines are—but their withdrawal makes it easier for a beleaguered Department of Defense to consider cancellation.
These developments must make several navies nervous, because they have built (or are building) small ski-jump carriers in the expectation of operating STOVL aircraft, the only existing one being the F-35B (no one is making Harriers, and the Russians long ago abandoned their STOVL program). Examples include the Spanish and the Italians, both of whom have new STOVL carriers, and the Japanese and the Koreans, who are reportedly well on the way to building them. The Indian Navy will soon receive a ski-jump carrier from the Russians. As for the Marines, it seems that only a Harrier or an F-35B can operate from their amphibious carriers, and they badly want organic air support for Marines operating ashore.
Ski-Jumps to the Rescue
There may be a way out of this mess. Modern high-powered conventional jet fighters can fly off ski-jumps; the Russians have been doing that for years, the Indians are about to receive a ski-jump carrier to operate that way, and that is probably the way the Chinese will operate the ex-Varyag. The U.S. Navy demonstrated this capability in the 1970s. Ski-jump takeoffs impose different stresses than catapult launches, so a conventional fighter routinely using a ski-jump will probably not last long. However, it seems certain that an existing airplane, such as a Super Hornet or maybe even an F-35C, could be re-stressed for the purpose without enormous effort—again, the Russians have done exactly that with their Sukhois.
This possibility was not raised in the aftermath of the British defense announcement, perhaps because within the Ministry of Defence it had long ago been dismissed to protect the British F-35B program, particularly as the cost of that program rose. The U.S. Navy has had no reason to think about it, because a ski-jump carrier is substantially less efficient than a conventional catapult carrier (the airplane carries a much smaller load, for example, and the launch cycle is a good deal longer).
If the F-35B disappears, however, there will be a world market for jet fighters that can fly off ski-jump carriers. There will not be enough of a market to justify developing a new and inevitably rather expensive fighter, but there will probably be quite enough to justify a new version of the Super Hornet. Such a fighter would probably be the Marines’ only option to retain fixed-wing capability.
From a British perspective, such an airplane might be attractive because it could also be catapult-launched once HMS Prince of Wales entered service. Of course, to make it economical, the RAF would have to buy it instead of a conventional F-35. For that matter, it might not be too difficult to stress the F-35 itself for ski-jump takeoff, since it is probably a good deal more powerful than the Super Hornet.
Overall, the British military has fared much better than most of the civil service; it took an 8 percent cut, while other departments faced 25 percent. Only the National Health Service was exempt. One further point is worth making. The British economy depends on its banking sector far more than other countries do. Heavy British government borrowing drives up interest rates and thus, it is argued, drives away foreign customers. The current government considers heavy dependence on banking unhealthy, and wants to reindustrialize Britain (in effect, industry collapsed because the banking sector attracted so much of the available money).
In this light, heavy defense cuts are ironic. In the past, defense has been a major driver of technological innovation, one of the few areas in which the government feels compelled to support British industry. The international banking operation also creates what one historian called an “informal empire” of countries that did business in London at least in part because the British helped protect them. That was why the Royal Navy was so active around the globe. Wiping out much more of the rather thin Royal Navy presence abroad might also indirectly attack the British banking system.