There is a comforting fiction at the heart of much contemporary strategic thinking: conventional military capabilities can substitute for nuclear deterrence without requiring the same political will. It is a neat idea—reassuring, technologically optimistic, and politically convenient. It is also dangerously wrong.

Deterrence does not reside in platforms, precision, or posture. It resides in belief—specifically, the adversary’s belief that you are both capable of inflicting costs and willing to do so. Strip away that second element, and deterrence collapses into theater.

This is the central problem confronting Australia and its allies as they navigate a rapidly shifting Indo-Pacific security environment. As nuclear risks grow, particularly with China’s expanding arsenal, there has been a noticeable intellectual pivot toward elevating conventional capabilities as a more “usable,” credible, and politically palatable form of deterrence. Long-range strike, autonomous systems, undersea warfare, and advanced ISR are all presented as tools that can impose meaningful costs without crossing the nuclear threshold.

However, this argument only holds if those tools are used. Too often, the debate stops at capability acquisition. Billions are spent, platforms are announced, doctrines are drafted. Yet, there is a conspicuous silence when it comes to the harder question: under what circumstances would Australia employ these capabilities in anger? What thresholds trigger their use? What risks are we prepared to accept in doing so?

Without clear answers, the signal sent to adversaries is not strength, but hesitation. Consider the logic from the perspective of a competitor. If Australia invests heavily in long-range strike but avoids articulating when it would employ it, an adversary may conclude that those capabilities are politically constrained. If grey-zone coercion, such as the deployment of sea mines, harassment of maritime assets, or interference with undersea infrastructure, does not elicit a forceful response, then the lesson learned is not deterrence, but permissiveness.

In this sense, ambiguity is not always stabilizing. It can just as easily invite probing. The uncomfortable reality is that conventional deterrence demands a level of resolve that many policymakers are reluctant to acknowledge. Unlike nuclear weapons, whose very horror lends them a paradoxical clarity, conventional forces sit in a murkier space. They are more usable, but precisely for that reason, credibility hinges on demonstrated willingness.

A missile that will is restricted from use is not a deterrent. A submarine that will not be deployed into contested waters does not shape adversary behavior. A cyber capability that remains permanently in reserve does not impose costs. Deterrence, in the conventional domain, is performative. It must be signaled, exercised, and at times demonstrated.

This does not mean recklessness or a rush to escalation. It means recognizing that deterrence is not cost-free. If the objective is to prevent adversary action, then one must be prepared to act before the situation becomes intolerable. Waiting until costs are imposed on you, economically, militarily, or politically undermines the very logic of deterrence. This is where much of the current discourse falls short. There is a tendency to treat conventional capabilities as inherently stabilizing, as though their mere existence alters adversary calculations. But capabilities without credible intent are inert. Worse, they can create a false sense of security, masking the erosion of deterrence beneath a veneer of preparedness.

The challenge is particularly acute for middle powers like Australia, which rely heavily on alliances and extended deterrence. As questions grow around the credibility of U.S. nuclear guarantees, especially in a more contested and multipolar environment, there is an understandable desire to bolster national self-reliance through conventional means. This is a sensible objective. But it cannot be achieved through hardware alone.

If conventional forces are to serve as a substitute or even a supplement to nuclear deterrence, then they must be embedded within a clear framework of political resolve. This requires more than capability development. It requires declaratory policy, strategic signaling, and a willingness to accept escalation risks.

For example, if the laying of sea mines in Australian waters is deemed unacceptable, then that must be stated clearly and backed by a credible commitment to respond with force if necessary. Anything less invites incremental encroachment. Over time, such encroachment normalizes behaviors that would once have been considered intolerable.

History offers ample evidence of this dynamic. Deterrence erodes not in dramatic moments, but through a series of small, unchallenged actions that cumulatively shift the baseline of what is acceptable. By the time a clear red line is crossed, it is often too late as the adversary has already recalibrated expectations.

The solution is not to abandon conventional deterrence, but to take it seriously. This means confronting uncomfortable questions. Are we prepared to use long-range strike capabilities against an adversary’s military assets in the initial stages of a crisis? Would we target grey-zone actors operating below the threshold of armed conflict? How do we signal our intentions without triggering the very escalation we seek to avoid? There are no easy answers, but avoiding the questions altogether is not a strategy, it is an abdication.

Ultimately, deterrence is about shaping perceptions. It is about convincing an adversary that the costs of action will outweigh the benefits. This cannot be achieved through ambiguity alone, nor through capability acquisition in isolation. It requires a coherent integration of means, messaging, and above all else, will.

If policymakers are unwilling to countenance the use of conventional force, then they should be honest about the implications. In such a scenario, conventional capabilities do not replace nuclear deterrence; they merely decorate its absence.

The risk is not just strategic failure, but strategic surprise. An adversary that perceives a gap between capability and intent will exploit it; once that perception is formed, it is exceedingly difficult to reverse.

Deterrence, in the end, is a test of credibility and resolve. It is not measured by what you possess, but by what an adversary believes you will do. In strategic competition, credibility is not claimed; it is proven and without resolve, deterrence is nothing at all.

Natalie Treloar is the Australian Company Director of Alpha-India Consultancy, a Senior Fellow at the Indo-Pacific Studies Center (IPSC), a Senior Analyst at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies (NIDS), and a member of the Open Nuclear Network. Views expressed in this article are the author’s own.

Deterrence Without Resolve Is No Deterrence at All was originally published on Global Security Review.

Prior to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Germany was one of Russia’s closest economic partners. At the outset of the war, Germany was criticized for its hesitant offer to Ukraine of 5,000 military helmets, at a time when other European states, especially the Baltic nations, were offering weapons and heavy military equipment to defend against the Russian invasion.

This hesitancy had two facets. First, the belief that military aid would escalate the war to unmanageable levels. Second, the fear that Russia could easily achieve its military objectives. In such a case, it was unwise for Germany to risk its economic interests, particularly its heavy reliance on Russian natural gas.

However, Germany, later, began supplying weapons and other military aid to Ukraine under domestic and international pressures. Later, Germany even supplied heavy military equipment to Ukraine. As of August 2025, Germany is one of the largest suppliers of military aid, amounting to $47 billion worth. This includes air-defense systems, advanced drones, and heavy artillery. German action illustrates how incremental support erodes Russia’s nuclear red lines.

Incremental Steps Eroding the Threshold 

In the Russian conceptualization of deterrence, strategic deterrence (strategicheskoye sderzhivaniye), both nuclear and conventional deterrence merge into one holistically integrated framework. The threat of or actual use of nuclear weapons would deter a conventional attack on Russia, help achieve military objectives, prevent third parties from entering a war, and help de-escalate a war. In the 1990s, when Russia fielded a conventionally inferior armed force, it relied primarily on nuclear deterrence for its security.

However, a nuclear-deterrence-focused security strategy does not consider the erosion of thresholds owing to incremental changes during war (i.e., incremental changes test interwar and intrawar deterrence). After Pakistan became a nuclear power, Pakistan employed sub-threshold tactics (terrorism) against India, assuming that the fear of mutual nuclear vulnerability would prevent India from using kinetic means in retaliation. However, this approach failed when India employed conventional force against Pakistan in 2016, 2019, and, more prominently, in Operation Sindoor (2025). Similarly, Ukraine challenged Russia with its aggressive attacks in response to Russian invasion.

Russia’s updated nuclear doctrine (2024) brought the threshold of nuclear employment to an even lower level than earlier doctrine. This includes “actions by an adversary affecting elements of critically important state or military infrastructure” and “the massive launch […] of air and space attacks means (strategic and tactical aircraft, cruise missiles, unmanned, hypersonic and other aerial vehicles).”

Ukraine’s Operation Spyder Web crossed these “nuclear thresholds” set in the 2024 doctrine. Russia’s numerous threats of tactical nuclear weapons use are not taken seriously by Europe any longer. This creates a stability-instability paradox where “conventional balances also reduce the credibility of nuclear threats precisely because there is a conventional alternative to resorting to nuclear weapons.”

One of the implications of the stability-instability paradox in international relations is that while nuclear weapons create stability at the strategic level by deterring large-scale war between nuclear-armed states, they increase the likelihood of smaller, limited, or conventional conflicts. This is reinforced in the Ukraine conflict, where Russia simply cannot use nuclear weapons to deter third-party military help to Ukraine and Ukraine’s counteroffensives.

Nuclear deterrence has limitations and does not deter incremental or conventional actions of lower yields. The costs associated with utilizing nuclear weapons for deterring incremental erosion of thresholds is unimaginable. It is difficult for parties in a war to agree upon thresholds. Thus, resorting to conventional attacks rather than escalating to nuclear use becomes more likely, even after crossing stated red lines. 

States Should Build on That 

For that matter, those states looking to augment their defence preparedness should invest in conventional deterrence capabilities that can guarantee security. This goes beyond just building missile and air-defense systems of a high calibre. Conventional deterrence is not merely about weapons to deter an adversary.

Military thinking needs to go beyond just inventing new weapons and focus on military strategy. States need to go beyond a one-size-fits-all understanding of deterrence, where all states subscribe to the same benchmarks, variables, and conceptualization of deterrence, and have a shared sense of it. Situating deterrence within the fold of strategic culture, how a state’s strategic culture shapes deterrence, is more helpful. For instance, in contrast to the denial versus punishment typology, Russia uses the forceful versus non-forceful scheme for deterrence.

States may need to invest in the re-invention of military doctrines, strategy, and thinking to suit current challenges. It is worth studying how adversaries see the concept of deterrence. It confers two advantages. First, it helps one remain prepared for any incremental utilization of force under the fear of mutual destruction. Second, it allows the defender to assess the opponent’s risk-taking appetite and nuclear threshold in a war. This would confer advantages associated with effectively using conventional means.

At the same time, both parties need to be aware of over-extension, where a misguided action can cause a catastrophic nuclear exchange. Since agreeing on the same trigger point is subjective and difficult, states must study the pace, timing, and intensity of the use of non-nuclear forces to effectively achieve objectives without jumping to the nuclear step on an escalatory ladder.

In the end, preventing nuclear war is critical. Thus, understanding thresholds is important. If war is unlikely to end, ensuring it does not escalate to nuclear use should be a top priority.

Anshu Kumar is a Junior Research Fellow at the Centre for Russian & Central Asian Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

The Russia-Ukraine Conflict Showcases the Limits of Nuclear Deterrence 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.