In a move that has sent shivers through the murky depths of the Atlantic, Her Majesty's Government has announced a new alliance with like-minded nations to dominate the art of undersea warfare using a fleet of autonomous drones. Because nothing says 'diplomacy' quite like a swarm of robotic torpedoes with a grudge. The initiative, dubbed 'Project Kraken' by some clever soul in the Ministry of Defence, will see British, American, Australian and presumably a token Canadian or two pooling their resources to create a network of unmanned submersibles capable of lurking, listening and, if the need arises, turning a hostile submarine into a very expensive underwater ornament.
The announcement came from a stern-faced minister who spoke of 'deterrence' and 'strategic advantage' while standing in front of a screen displaying a CGI dolphin with far too many antennae. I, for one, welcome our new robotic overlords, especially if they come with a built-in cocktail mixer. The logic, as explained, is straightforward: the oceans are getting crowded.
Russians are poking around cables, Chinese are mapping seabeds, and the French are probably just being French. The drones, or 'autonomous underwater vehicles' if you're boring, will act as a sort of underwater neighbourhood watch, but with more titanium and less curtain-twitching. They can loiter for weeks, transmit data via satellite, and presumably engage in silent, deadly games of chess with enemy subs.
The cost is, naturally, classified, but rumour has it the initial investment could buy every MP a lifetime supply of Grey Goose. The alliance, they say, will level the playing field. But let's be honest, it's mainly to ensure that when the next huge Russian submarine goes missing, we can say 'we were nowhere near it' while winking in Morse code.
No doubt the usual suspects will decry this as a dangerous escalation, a violation of the spirit of the sea, a waste of taxpayer money. To them I say: the sea has no spirit. It’s a cold, dark, wet place where the only things that matter are tonnage and who has the bigger periscope.
The drones, at least, won't complain about the food or demand hazardous-duty pay. One can only hope they have better taste in gin than the average naval officer. So here's to the future: a silent, robotic navy patrolling the abyss, ensuring that freedom of navigation remains a thing, and that anyone who dares to cut our cables gets a very stern bleeping.
God save the drone.
