At sea, drones are disruptive, but they are not decisive. They complicate the maritime fight, but they do not replace the enduring strategic logic of sea power.
Combat in the Black Sea and Persian Gulf demonstrate this.
Ukrainian uncrewed boats and aircraft have caused the Russian navy to withdraw from the more exposed areas of the Black Sea, but Ukraine hasn’t achieved control of the area in any measure. Both countries’ need for access for trade purposes has created a truce of sorts, allowing Russian and Ukrainian trade to move unhindered.
Iran achieved limited denial in the Strait of Hormuz, and by doing so in a chokepoint gained great effect on global energy flows. Again, it didn’t achieve sea control.
The debate over whether drones will make navies obsolete has become one of the most persistent and most misleading arguments in contemporary strategy. The imagery is seductive: cheap, fast, expendable drones humiliating billion-dollar warships; swarms overwhelming layered defences; small actors imposing strategic paralysis on larger fleets. But the conclusion that navies are entering their twilight is wrong.
Drones can damage ships, but they can’t fill the roles of navies. They can harass maritime trade but can’t secure it. They can impose risk, but they can’t project sovereignty, uphold maritime order or provide the diplomatic and constabulary presence that underpins a stable Indo‑Pacific. Sea power has always been a much larger idea than naval power, involving a maritime ecosystem of fleets, infrastructure, industry and geography. Drones disrupt parts of that ecosystem; they do not supplant it.
The most compelling case against navies rests on three linked observations. First, drones can saturate. Swarms of strike drones and uncrewed boats could overwhelm sophisticated defences. A destroyer might intercept most of the incoming threats, but a few weapons that got through would still damage a ship. This is the logic of attrition by mass.
Second, the cost asymmetry is stark. A modern surface combatant costs between US$1.2 billion (A$1.7 billion) and US$2 billion, while a maritime drone may cost tens of thousands. This inversion of cost and effect is strategically uncomfortable for navies built traditionally around ships.
Third, drones complicate sea control. They can deny access to ports, threaten logistics hubs and impose persistent surveillance. They compress decision cycles and force naval forces to operate farther from shore. These are serious challenges, but they are not new. Mines, torpedoes, submarines, aircraft and antiship missiles all produced similar waves of alarm. Each was predicted to end the era of the surface fleet. Each forced adaptation. None eliminated the need for navies.
The strategic logic endures. Sea power is not defined by the vulnerability of individual platforms but by the strategic functions that maritime forces perform.
First, navies persist because states require secure maritime trade routes. While drones can disrupt shipping, they cannot guarantee its safety. Second, navies support deterrence and coercive presence. Drone swarms cannot signal resolve, uphold freedom of navigation or reassure partners. Third, navies’ diplomatic and constabulary functions make them instruments of statecraft, not just warfighting machines. Lastly, naval warfare is about campaigns rather than single engagements. Drones may win tactical moments, but unlike maritime forces, they don’t have the level of endurance required to sustain strategic outcomes.
Globally, navies are adapting. From steam to submarines to radar, the history of naval technology has shown that new systems are absorbed, not simply bolted on. The same will be true for drones.
The real shift is conceptual. Navies must operate under conditions of intermittent visibility, persistent surveillance and compressed decision cycles. They must assume that their signatures will be detected and targeted. They must build depth, magazines, repair capacity and industrial surge. And they must generate fleeting, localised windows of superiority rather than relying on continuous dominance.
Australia’s edge in the drone era will come not from choosing between ships and uncrewed systems but from generating a force that can survive intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance saturation; sustain itself under fire; and adapt faster than adversaries. Mass, dispersion, industrial depth and maritime logistics – not the drones themselves – will decide who prevails. Drones disrupt, but they do not replace sea power. The future belongs to countries and navies that understand that.