For over a century, the primary objective of global diplomacy has been the pursuit of “stability.” From the Concert of Europe through the bipolar rigidity of the Cold War, stability was defined as a predictable baseline; a state of equilibrium characterized by established rules, clearly defined poles, and static “red lines.” Within this framework, the goal of the strategist was to maintain the balance of power and prevent the system from tipping into overt conflict. However, in the contemporary era, the pursuit of stability ceased to be a safeguard; it has become a strategic liability. 

The fundamental error of current strategic thinking is due to Stability Illusion, which is the belief that the world is a linear system where shocks are anomalies and a return to a “normal” baseline is possible. This logic assumes that the international order is a series of walls designed to keep the storm at bay. But the world is no longer operating on such a predictable script. 

In a multipolar system, friction is not accidental; it is a structural feature. Power is no longer distributed along a single axis of competition and instead across a web of overlapping and often contradictory interests. This creates a Friction Engine where a strategic adjustment in one domain (e.g., a trade tariff in the Pacific) produces cascading, non-linear effects in another (e.g., a security realignment in the Arctic). The danger arises when states apply linear solutions to these non-linear frictions. When policymakers treat geopolitical risk as though it was compliance oriented or as a set of isolated events to be mitigated, they ignore the systemic architecture. They are attempting to fix the symptoms of volatility while remaining trapped in a paradigm that denies the volatility itself. 

Australia illustrates the constraints of strategic thinking in a multipolar environment. As a medium power tied to both Western security structures and Asian economic networks, it has long attempted to balance U.S. strategic protection with Chinese economic integration. 

This was the logic of the stable centre concept; the assumption that Australia could maintain equilibrium between two major poles without choosing between them. That assumption depended on a stable international environment in which economic and security domains remained separable. That environment no longer exists. 

China’s rise as both a conventional and nuclear-armed power fundamentally alters the regional structure. Conventional modernization, which includes advanced naval capabilities, long-range precision strike systems, and anti-access architectures, is now integrated with a credible and expanding nuclear deterrent posture. This compresses escalation thresholds and erodes the distinction between peacetime competition and wartime signaling. 

At the same time, Australia’s security posture is anchored in U.S. extended nuclear deterrence. This is not a secondary feature of its defense policy. Instead, it is the core guarantee underpinning deterrence against nuclear-armed adversaries. Australia does not possess an independent nuclear capability. Its strategic confidence rests on the credibility of U.S. nuclear commitments and their willingness to extend them into a contested Indo-Pacific theater. This creates a structurally integrated but fragile position. Economic dependence on China generates exposure to coercion, while security dependence on the U.S. demands alignment in defense planning, intelligence integration, and regional deterrence signaling. The result is not balance, but strategic compression and a narrowing of maneuver space in which hedging increases rather than reduces vulnerability. 

The breaking point is not a single crisis but the erosion of foundational assumptions. Economic and security domains are no longer separable. Military modernization carries nuclear implications. Trade interdependence becomes strategic leverage, and alliance credibility becomes a systemic variable shaping all other domains. Australia’s dilemma, therefore, is not a diplomatic failure. It is a paradigmatic one. It assumed a system capable of equilibrium. It operates within a nonlinear environment where every adjustment produces cascading effects. 

A question emerging from this condition is whether bilateral extended nuclear deterrence is sufficient in a multipolar nuclear environment. The Indo-Pacific is no longer structured around a single guarantor-recipient axis. It is a distributed deterrence environment in which credibility is continuously tested across multiple theaters and domains. From this perspective, a purely bilateral model may be structurally underpowered. The alternative is the emergence of a more explicit Indo-Pacific nuclear alliance architecture that is not necessarily through proliferation, but through formalized integration of deterrence signaling, strategic coordination, and shared escalation management. Such a framework would reinforce extended deterrence by embedding it within a networked structure of allied commitments, increasing credibility through collective signaling rather than bilateral assurance alone. 

Australia’s position thus reveals a broader systemic reality that medium powers are no longer operating in stable equilibrium spaces. They are embedded in integrated pressure systems where deterrence, economics, and information are inseparable. If stability is a mirage, what is the alternative? The answer is Dynamic Resilience. We must move from a model of deterrence that acts as a wall to a model that acts like a shock absorber. While stability seeks to prevent the storm, Dynamic Resilience seeks to navigate it. Dynamic Resilience is not about managing risk in the traditional sense, which is often a defensive, reactive posture. Instead, it is an offensive strategic architecture. It requires three core shifts: from equilibrium to agility, from separation to synthesis, and from bilateralism to networked deterrence. 

The pursuit of strategic stability is a relic of a bygone era. To cling to it is to invite fragility. The global architect must now abandon the illusion of the “stable centre” and embrace the volatility of the multipolar era. By replacing brittle walls with a framework of Dynamic Resilience, organizations, and states can move beyond mere survival. They can transition from a state of vulnerability to a state of strength, turning global friction into a systemic competitive advantage. 

Dr Jean-Claude Meledje is a Founder and Director at Kexscl Consultancy. He is also an independent geopolitics analyst specializing in regional proxy dynamics and cross-border insurgencies. His work focuses on contemporary geopolitical risks across the Middle East, Indo-Pacific, Africa and beyond. Natalie Treloar is the Australian Company Director of Alpha-India Consultancy, a Senior Fellow at the Indo-Pacific Studies Center (IPSC), a Fellow at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies (NIDS), and a member of the Open Nuclear Network (ONN). Her work is geopolitics, defense, and deterrence within the Indo-Pacific region. The views of the authors are their own.

The Impossibility of Strategic Stability in a Multipolar Era: From Brittle Walls to Dynamic Resilience was originally published on Global Security Review.

The existing US-led hub-and-spoke alliance system in the Asia-Pacific is fundamentally different than the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). In the 1950s the US investigated the possibility of establishing a regional multilateral alliance, but this soon proved infeasible. Unable to forge a Northeast Asian equivalent to NATO at the onset of the Cold War, the US opted instead for the “hub-and-spoke” architecture, where the spokes radiate out from Washington in a network of asymmetrical ties reinforcing American regional dominance. Why?

First, compared to Europe, the Asia-Pacific has very little history of multilateral institutions and alliance formation. Modern European states have a history of doing so dating back well before the Treaty of Westphalia was established in 1648. European sovereign political systems emerged out of Westphalia; Europe came to develop different notions of international community and international order, based, in part, on the concept of international law. Asia did not have such a tradition of legalistic international agreements.

Second, geography also plays a significant role in the nature of warfare, and therefore the ability of countries to come to one another’s aid. European nations border each other, but they do so in a land context. As such, not only is it easier to move around troops and military equipment, but it is faster.

The nature of geography and distance also inform countries’ threat perceptions. NATO continues to endure because of a shared common adversary—Russia. Countries neighbor each other, making for an easily delineated bloc. The distances between Southeast Asia and Northeast Asia are formidable compared to Europe. Moreover, the sheer size of China, and the formidable military power of Japan, made it harder for smaller competitors to balance against them.

There were some attempts at bridging East and West. In 1954, the Southeast Asia Treaty Organisation (SEATO) was established because of the Southeast Asia Collective Defence Treaty. It included Australia, France, New Zealand, Pakistan, the Philippines, Thailand, the United Kingdom, and the US and was designed to curb the spread of communism in Asia. A major reason SEATO failed and was disbanded in 1977 was because there was a lack of a common threat perception.

What did survive was the U.S. hub-and-spoke system: the US-Japan alliance as a means of curbing any potential regional Japanese aggression after World War II, the US- South Korea alliance to protect South Korea from a North Korean invasion, and the US alliance with Australia and New Zealand (ANZUS) to protect both nations from perceived threats of communist invasion by China and Indonesia.

Central and critical to the credibility of any alliance system is how it deters conflict. This is arguably much harder to achieve in a multilateral alliance than in the current hub-and-spoke system. Conventional deterrence in the Asian maritime theater is difficult. The most significant work on conventional deterrence was done by John Mearsheimer. However, Mearsheimer’s analysis may be persuasive for eras preceding the development of nuclear weapons, but the pre-nuclear era did not involve missiles. His analysis was based on a European land context, not an Asian maritime context. As such, thinking on conventional deterrence is incomplete.

There are significant logistical challenges that come with trying to establish a multilateral alliance system in Asia. Tasks include the need to ensure the prompt replenishment of destroyed combat ships, establish defensive perimeters for fleet support, and ensure the safety of fleet replenishment oilers and dry cargo/ammunition supply ships, just to name a few.

Budget constraints brought on by sequestration (2013), coupled with longer-term financial uncertainty, was raising questions about the US Navy’s Military Sealift Command and its combat logistics force more than a decade ago. Europe was, and remains, one single geostrategic entity connected by an excellent road network. In the Asia-Pacific, Australia, Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan are more dispersed, with neutral and non-aligned states between them, not to mention a growing Chinese submarine fleet.

American forces need to move around large numbers of ships, aircraft, troops, and munitions. Unless the US establishes more permanent bases on allied territory, it is not clear that the US is able to adequately deploy replacement capabilities on very short notice, especially once conflict breaks out. Whilst American declaratory policy that requires a defense of allies in Asia is sound, it needs to be backed up by raw capability, the two components of deterrence.

For more than a decade, analysts have encouraged the US to improve readiness and sustainment of the US Navy. In 2014, the Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments warned of many more similar issues, including how quickly cruisers and destroyers exhaust their missiles and how adversaries will attempt to use “cheap” missiles (such as the BrahMos cruise missile) to attack US warships to get them to use their most effective defenses first,  such as the long-range SM-6 missile, and then strike with more effective weapons to destroy carriers and their escorts.

The foundation of power projection was and remains sea control. As Hugh White argues, what has contributed to making the US such a decisive power in the region is a robust sea-control capacity with low risk, and therefore little cost. The modern concept of sea control has its origins in the writings of Rear Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan. Sea control was about naval superiority, the concentration of forces, and decisive battles.

Sea control is the condition in which one has freedom of action in specified areas and for specified periods of time and, where necessary, to deny or limit its use to the enemy. Sea control is different from sea denial. The latter refers to attempts to deny an adversary’s ability to use the sea without necessarily seeking to control the sea. When it comes to Asia, China and the United States are gradually trading places when it comes to sea control.

Discussions about a multilateral alliance would arguably have to address the unavoidable question of nuclear weapons and extended nuclear deterrence (END). Discussions within NATO’s Nuclear Planning Group during the Cold War about targeting and basing helped calm nervous allies, helped hold NATO together, and, in some cases, helped stem the tide of proliferation.

Both the US–Republic of Korea Extended Deterrence Policy Committee (EDPC) and the US–Japan Extended Deterrence Dialogue were established after the 2010 Nuclear Posture Review for a similar purpose. There were growing concerns around the ability of the US to overcome China’s anti-access/area-denial capabilities and American support in the event of specific contingencies involving the disputed Senkaku/Diaoyu Islands in the East China Sea. Could these bilateral dialogues become multilateral fora? This applies just as much to conventional weapons, but where the members of the alliance are far apart from each other, the potential red lines of escalation and conflict are much less identifiable than they would be in a land context.

But the technical challenges in the credibility of American extended deterrence to Australia, Japan, and South Korea matter less than the reasons why the US would want to do nuclear strategy again, this time in East Asia, a vastly more complicated theater. What matters is interest.

Hugh White raised the uncomfortable but critical issue when he suggested that Tokyo’s desire for a closer defense relationship with Australia is all about lining Australia up to support Japan against China, and that is the way Washington and Beijing will see it, too. Tokyo and Washington believe that Australia should defend the US-led international order and refuse concessions to China’s ambitions. Australians have not decided whether they agree with the US and Japan and are predisposed to seek a compromise with China—all while retaining a strong American role.

As White argued, no possible US nuclear posture, even the best possible, would eliminate the risk that a conflict with a nuclear-armed great power like China might lead to direct nuclear attacks on US territory. This leaves America’s East Asian allies to ponder whether American interests in the Western Pacific are strong enough for Washington to justify running the risk of conflict going nuclear.

Professor Paul Bracken of Yale University expressed concerns about American alliances in Asia. He found it nearly inconceivable that the US would actually use nuclear weapons to defend Australia, Japan, or Taiwan. Bracken noted that he played out countless scenarios, and that when it came down to it, American leaders were unwilling to use nuclear weapons. Bracken went so far as to suggest that the United States may not engage in a conventional hi-tech war with China, either.

Ely Ratner’s article is thought-provoking, valuable, and timely. But there are significant challenges in alliance credibility in Asia, because interests do not align as easily as they do in Europe. As former US Secretary of State John Foster Dulles remarked in 1952, “The North Atlantic Treaty reflected a sense of common destiny as between the peoples of the west, which grew out of a community of race, religion, and political institutions, before it was finalised. But that element does not clearly exist as yet anywhere in the Pacific area.” The same is true today, seven decades later.

Christine Leah, PhD, is a fellow at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies.  

American Alliances in East Asia: An Australian Perspective was originally published on Global Security Review.