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.

As is the case with most congressional reports labeled “strategy,” it is a mixed bag of some good things that should be commended, with gaping holes that will have negative impacts on the strategic interests of the United States in space unless addressed. If left untouched, the United States could find itself a nation in danger of failing in the near future.

There are some good points in the document. It rightly explains the importance of the Space Force’s role as a service provider to the terrestrial (air, land, sea) services and combatant commands. Regional combatant commanders understand the “competitive advantage” that space systems like satellite communications, missile warning and tracking, and surveillance and reconnaissance provides. As such, combatant commanders worldwide have “requirements in space expertise, activities, and space capabilities.”

These are correctly explained in the document as something needing funding, support, and the right service posture to meet these requirements across the terrestrial services and agencies. However, while this is all true, it is not good to communicate the role of the Space Force as only an enabler of the Joint Force or “enhancing readiness of U.S. [terrestrial] forces” as if it is not a part of American forces or the Joint Force. It was created for much more than this.

Second, there are concerns about some aspects of the document, which are unhelpful to the service and the nation’s readiness for great power war in space. This is because the Space Force was not created to be primarily an enabler and supporter of the Joint Force, but to be the service responsible for organizing, training, and equipping space combat forces to address the threat posed by the growing space combat forces of China and Russia.

Rather than creating a superior war-winning force to deter attacks upon critical space infrastructure, the objectives of the current strategy is resilience and the ability of American warfighting support capabilities to “degrade gracefully under attack” while being “reconstituted in a reasonable time.” This approach is insufficient as China’s and Russia’s space forces do not exist to merely “deny the United States its access to the space domain.”

They instead mean to “kill” that access and the critical space capabilities leveraged by all instruments of American national power and influence. As such, the Space Force is not postured appropriately to deter, counter, and win against enemy warfighting capabilities that can currently degrade and destroy our critical space infrastructure.

In addition, the Space Force’s role in this document is focused more on protecting the terrestrial force structure from “space enabled attack” that, frankly, is not a new phenomenon and was accomplished when space was only a functional support area and not a warfighting domain—and area of responsibility (AOR) in its own right.

The document does correctly state that the United States “must be prepared to deny a potential adversary’s use of space systems to monitor, track, and enable attack of US, Allied, and partners’ military forces,” but space forces are just as much a part of military forces as air, land, and sea. The nation cannot achieve this objective if it does not treat warfighting support forces as part of the team, as well as create space combat forces capable of deterring attack by having the ability to wage a successful campaign in, to, and from space.

This means the nation must have “combat-credible forces” with the ability to fire and maneuver just like air, land, and sea forces can. The strategy mentions the types of forces that should demonstrate “the ability to conduct offensive and defensive operations against an adversary,” but this offensive and defensive objective is not the primary mission of the service, which it should be.

The primary mission of the air, land, and sea forces are not to “support the Joint Force,” but rather to project military power against any adversary region on earth to achieve military objectives and protect and advance strategic interests of the United States. As such, the Space Force’s reason for being is not supporting terrestrial actions, but to deter attack upon critical space infrastructure vital to society and commercial interests in space, and through that primary mission, achieve victory against enemy space and terrestrial forces from space.

Christopher Stone is Senior Fellow for Space Deterrence at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies in Washington, D.C. He is the former Special Assistant to the Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Space Policy. The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the positions of the Department of Defense or his employer.

The Comprehensive Strategy for the Space Force: The Good and Bad was originally published on Global Security Review.