It’s quite the ambition. To kill precisely, yet without ever needing to inflict unnecessary suffering on innocent civilians. To take out the bad guy, while saving the good. A beguiling prospect. Such ambitions have a tendency to feel incredibly familiar and definitively modern, yet they are far from new. The term ‘precision strike’ may evoke the image of a drone pilot lining up crosshairs on a computer screen before launching a lethal strike, but precision has a much longer history involving much more than strike accuracy or advanced weapons systems. Instead, precision is best described as an ethos, one which enshrines the long-held ambition in American strategic thought to mitigate the cost to life in conflict, while still achieving a rapid American victory. Although often illusory, it has been vehemently pursued (sometimes to a fault) for over one hundred years.

Those who seek to achieve such an ambition, which is by no means all those in the US military, speak about it in moral, ethical, and strategic terms. They argue that ‘precision’ epitomises the push to be better than other nations, to hold oneself to a higher moral standard in times of both peace and war. In terms of a definition, the ‘precision ethos’ can be defined by the ambition to be proportionate and discriminate in the targeting of the enemy from the air, to rapidly end conflict, and to reduce the cost to civilian and American military life as much as possible. This does not mean that such aims are always achieved in war. In fact, as this book will show, precision can sometimes be a strategically counter-productive ambition. Despite this, the American pursuit of precision is as fascinating as it is troubling. It is a phenomenon – an obsession – which when analysed as a century-spanning pursuit, reveals rare insights into the intellectual history, evolution, and character of American warfare.²

As American air power historian Tami Biddle explained to me early on in this project, ‘the American desire for precision in war is part of the narrative of ‘American exceptionalism’. It is the want to hold oneself to a higher standard than others do, to be better than others are. Such ambitions have driven the American people, in one way or another, since they first arrived on Plymouth Rock’.³ Thus, the drive for precision in American strategic thought is a product of the society from which it emerged. It is, in essence, a social construction – a very American idea and ideal, one which has most often manifested as an agonising struggle.

So, what does it mean to be better at bombing? Well, as explained in the following chapters, the ambition to achieve increased levels of precision was born to early American airpower thinkers during the First World War as a reaction to the horror of that conflict and the emergence of European ‘area bombing’ strategies. It was then chased across the twentieth century and pursued well into the twenty-first. Yet, it is within this space – between the original pursuit of precision bombardment in the early twentieth century and the so-called ‘perfection’ of precision missiles and drones in the twenty-first – that this book finds its place and purpose. The origins of precision have been well documented. Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 build upon studies by Tami Biddle, Conrad Crane, Paula G. Thornhill, Mark Clodfelter, Paul Gillespie, Michael Sherry, Stephen MacFarland, Stephen Bourque, Raymond O’Mara, Phil Haun, and Malcolm Gladwell.⁴ In these texts, each author explains in their own way how early American air power thinkers operationalised their pursuit of precision bombing after the First World War and through the Second World War. Yet it is here that the wealth of studies into precision, along with the pursuit of precision bombing itself, appear to pause.

This is until the 1990s. During this period, at the other end of the history on American precision warfare, a considerable number of books began to emerge. Each author presented technical and policy insights into how and why US policymakers, pioneers of industry, and military thinkers were able to build upon the Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA) and achieve never-before-seen levels of precision bombardment during the Gulf War (1991), Kosovo Campaign (1999), and well into the War on Terror (2001). In this first wave of renewed precision scholarship, Richard P. Hallion, Stephen D. Wrage, and Benjamin Lambeth (among others) captured the moment where the United States harnessed a new precision air power capacity to devastating effect. As Hallion argued in 1995, ‘[b]ecause of precision, decision-makers have a freedom to use military force closer to non-combatant-inhabited areas in an enemy homeland (or in enemy-occupied territory) than at any previous time in military history’.⁵ Although not wrong in terms of the technical precision achieved during this period, critics of American precision air power condemned the suggestion that war could ever be waged in such close proximity to civilians without innocent people getting caught in the crossfire. It was in reaction to such suggestions that a critical wave of scholarship arose. Spearheaded by experts like Michael Ignatieff and James Der Derian, these authors derided the US for its ‘precision’ and high-tech computerised ambitions, accusing the US military (and select allies) of seeing war as a sanitised practice. As Ignatieff wrote in 2001, ‘[w]e see war as a surgical scalpel and not a bloodstained sword. In so doing we mis-describe ourselves as we mis-describe the instruments of death.’⁶ Despite these protestations, however, the quest to achieve ever greater levels of precision air power continued along with numerous publications on the topic.

In the post-9/11 world, and as the Obama administration deployed drones across the globe in the hunt for suspected terrorists, studies on the use of drones and their precision strike capabilities ballooned into their hundreds, if not thousands. Just a few of the notable works published during this period include those by Sarah Kreps, Medea Benjamin, Michael Boyle, Gregoire Chamayou, Thomas, G. Mahnken, Chris Fuller, J. Wesley Hutto, Kelly A. Grieco, Caroline Kennedy-Pipe, Talat Farouk, Tom Waldman, Chris Wood, Kathrine Chandler, Daniel Brunstetter, Megan Braun, Hugh Gusterson, Jacqueline L. Hazelton, Michael J. Williams, Stephanie Carvin, Michael P. Kreuzer, and Azmat Khan.⁷

Much like in my own work during the 2010s, many of these authors focused on modern drone technologies and their strategies of deployment. Of particular interest were the claims of infallible precision and guaranteed accuracy in warfare – a puzzling assertion given the rising number of documented civilian casualties and the ‘collateral’ aspects of war, which ran contrary to official claims.

In May 2013, for instance, President Barack Obama announced to the National Defense University in Washington, DC that, ‘conventional air power or missiles are far less precise than drones and are likely to cause more civilian casualties and more local outrage’.⁸ In that same speech, President Obama doubled down on his claims, arguing that drones were part of a ‘just war – a war waged proportionally, in last resort, and in self-defense’.⁹ In fact, Obama administration officials had a particular passion for precision when it came to solving the dilemmas of the War on Terror. As John Brennan, Obama’s Homeland Security Advisor (and future head of the CIA) stated in 2012, it was the ‘surgical precision’ of the drone that was a vital ability with its ‘laser-like focus to eliminate the cancerous tumour called an al-Qaida terrorist, while limiting damage to the tissue around it’.¹⁰ With a surprising lack of irony, Brennan was fulfilling the prophetic warning laid out by Ignatieff over a decade before. War, it appeared, had become surgical, sterile, and too easy to wage.

Dissenting voices continued to criticise these sanitised takes on dealing death from above. This included some of those who had worked in the Obama administration. As Obama’s former Secretary of Defense, Robert Gates, stated in 2015, once he had left office, ‘[f]or too many people, including defence “experts”, members of Congress, executive branch officials and ordinary citizens, war has become a kind of video game or action movie: bloodless, painless and odorless’.¹¹ In hindsight he was correct. Civilian casualties from Obama-era drone strikes are now documented into the thousands. Precision often meant guaranteed death, destruction, and immeasurable suffering for the communities under persistent overwatch by drones, not just the suspected terrorists and insurgents. A precision strike, it turned out, was only as precise as the intelligence at hand.¹²

Precision was not always imprecise. There can be little doubt that Obama’s drone wars were partly responsible for supressing al-Qaeda by taking out high-value terrorist targets. Osama bin Laden, for instance, detested drones. These seemingly omnipotent, ubiquitous systems forced him and his followers to hide or die, ‘devastating al-Qaeda’.¹³ Obama’s drones also provided a valuable Intelligence, Surveillance, Target Acquisition, and Reconnaissance (ISTAR) capacity and close air support to allies and US troops on the ground. In addition, they helped mitigate the need for increased numbers of troops in contested regions of the world, reducing the risk to American lives.¹⁴ As such, conflict became less about en masse ground deployments and more about waging war by remote control, at a distance, where precision missiles could be released against enemies, from thousands of miles away, with minimal risk to US military personnel.

In fact, it was due to these perceived successes, and despite the broader concerns of civilian harm, that from 2017 the Trump administration kept drones as the spearhead of force deployment around the world. To silence critics, Trump officials simply removed the requirement to report on civilian casualties, while keeping drone strikes at a similar level to the Obama presidency.¹⁵ President Biden continued along a similar path, decreasing drone deployment in some regions (such as Afghanistan), while still maintaining the drone programme and expanding the supply of drones to key allies around the world. Indeed, there can be little doubt that it was the perceived successes of the US drone programme under Obama, Trump, and Biden that acted as a catalyst for a growing global demand and proliferation of drones in the late 2010s and early 2020s.¹⁶

As new ‘drone powers’ emerged around the world, drawn in by the allure of the drone’s precision strike capabilities, my work evolved to focus on this new drone era. Inspired by scholars, such as Agnes Callamard, Paul Lushenko, Ulrike Franke, Dan Gettinger, Sam Bendett, Delina Goxho, Zachary Kallenborn, Emil Archambault, Yannick Veilleux-Lepage, Lauren Kahn, Ash Rossiter, Brandon J. Cannon, Anna Jackman, Michael Horowitz, Dominika Kunertova, Joshua A Schwartz, Ingvild Bode, Matthew Fuhrmann, Arthur Holland Michel, Kerry Chavez, and Ori Swed (among others),¹⁷ I focused on how drones and precision missiles were being used and misused in both internal and international conflicts. These included Russia’s offensive war against Ukraine – where drones, precision missiles, and a clambering for deep precision strike capabilities defined the early conflict – but also the Second Libyan Civil War, the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, the Ethiopian Tigray War, and the terrorist use of drones and precision strikes across the Middle East.¹⁸

Today, over 113 nation states have a military drone programme and at least 65 violent non-state actors have access to weaponised drones.¹⁹ According the Center for the Study of the Drone, only 60 nation states possessed drones in 2010, meaning there has been an 88.2 per cent increase in drone-owning states in just over a decade.²⁰ As a result, academic research into drone warfare has become a global endeavour. From what started as analysis of US precision technologies, my own attempt to keep track of the escalating and uncontrolled proliferation of military drones has taken me from the Middle East to the Arctic, the Sahel to the Baltic. As part of this research journey I have been able to inspect captured terrorist drones and learn how precision weapons,²¹ such as ‘kamikaze drones’, are spreading into the hands of proxy actors who do the bidding of hostile nations.²² Not only this, but as climate change warms regions of the Arctic four times faster than the global average – opening up new economic opportunities to rival nations – drones allow governments and their militaries to project sovereign power across hard-to-reach places and cast a watchful eye over unwanted guests.²³

In February 2022, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine sparked a new rush across Europe to acquire military drones from any available source. While the Kremlin chose to target Ukraine’s major cities with Iranian-manufactured weapons, China supplied armed military drones to Serbia and the US sent high-tech loitering munitions to support Ukraine and provide persistent overwatch of Russia’s borders. In addition, Turkey provided its Bayraktar TB2 drones to Latvia, Ukraine, Lithuania, Poland, and any European nation that wished to possess a loitering and lethal precision strike capacity.²⁴ All this activity has pointed to the rapid spread of precision drone systems across Europe, one which shows no signs of abating.

It is for this reason that when I was afforded the opportunity to address the UN Security Council in New York, I chose to focus on how weaponised drones now pose a major threat to international security. Attacks, I argued, now take place over thousands of kilometres against state military assets, diplomatic sites, chokepoints of international trade (at sea and on land), and the civilian centres of nation states.²⁵ This is the current state of the world, one of global drone diffusion.

Why is this important? How is it relevant or indeed useful to include in a book on the history of precision and American warfare? Termed ‘The Second Drone Age’, this new security environment has played host to the uncontrolled proliferation of precision strike technologies that now allow a range of hostile actors to deploy drones and missiles with pinpoint precision from the safety of their own territorial domains. In an ironic, yet predictable, twist of fate, it is the very precision technologies, pioneered by the US, that now threaten deadly precision attacks back onto the nation that first developed them.²⁶ The threat, therefore, has travelled full circle, and to understand the character of contemporary warfare we must turn to history.

Where did the search for precision begin? How did it evolve over time? And how have we ended up where we are today?’ The book’s purpose is to fill a gap in the established body of literature that presents a less than clear answer to the questions posed. Although there are many excellent studies that explore parallel stories of weapons development and strategic evolution during this nuclear period – not least those by Fred Kaplan, Scott Sagan, and David A. Rosenberg (to whom I own a special debt for their eye-opening analysis) but also Donald McKenzie, Peter W. Singer, Stephen Budainsky, Sterling M. Pavelec, Maja Zehfuss, Brent Ziarnick, David Axe, Robert Pape, John Andreas Olsen, Matthew Evangelista, and Henry Shue – there are still gaps in the literature.²⁷ As such, I went in search of answers:

• What happened between 1945 and the high-tech advancements of the 1990s which kicked off the new ‘drone world’ we live in today?
• Who continued to push for this seemingly impossible and illusory prospect of ‘precision’ in American warfare after 1945 and the shortfalls of the Second World War?
• What factors – moral or strategic – drove such ambitions? Who challenged them?
• Finally, what can we learn from their experiences – and from the history of precision – to help us understand modern precision warfare and the uncontrolled proliferation of precision strike technologies around the world today?

It is these questions that I hope to provide answers to in Precision: A History of American Warfare.