Prominent security failures have demonstrated that even nations regarded as the most well-equipped to handle domestic threats are wildly unprepared to deal with drones as tools of surveillance and direct attack.
In countries such as Australia and the United States, drones are not being detected, and, even if they are, authorities and defence forces are not equipped for economically and safely destroying them.
There’s no greater example of failure to handle drones than the 13 July assassination attempt on former US president Donald Trump. Intending killer Thomas Matthew Crooks used a drone to survey the area before pulling the trigger. Poor cellular connectivity has been blamed for the Secret Service’s inability to detect that drone and prevent its reconnaissance mission.
Similarly, Chinese national Fengyun Shi plead guilty in July to espionage charges for flying drones around US shipyards and submarines in the past months.
Drones—both small consumer-grade devices and larger units—continue to target sensitive locations globally despite efforts to regulate their use. While Australia is far from geopolitical conflicts and hostile environments, these examples reflect just how easily a nefarious actor can carry out surveillance.
And, as the war in Ukraine has shown, it’s not a long stretch for someone to escalate surveillance into a direct attack by attaching a plastic charge or similar substance to a cheap drone, particularly where highly valuable and confidential assets are concerned.
Since April, the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation and Australian police have investigated eight such cases for connections to terrorism, with intelligence officials worrying that social media is amplifying political volatility, particularly among youth. Intelligence officials describe the current sentiment as ‘lawful, awful and unhelpful’ and believe there is a heightened risk of lone-wolf attacks in crowded places. Intelligence agencies have reportedly said such attacks will be ‘low cost, locally financed and use readily acquired weapons with relatively simple tactics’. Should an attack happen, the devastation will far outweigh the price of the weapons used.
In the north of Australia, while the federal government is pushing ahead with upgrades to bases and airfields as part of its 2024 National Defence Strategy, these installation are generally even more exposed to the threats posed by drones by the simple arithmetic that they are protected by fewer individuals because of their remoteness. With fewer personnel, there is less capacity for traditional methods of drone spotting, let alone the most effective ones, to the point that personnel are reliant on visual tools alone. The problem will only become more widespread for Australia as we build and host more sensitive installations. Should the new facilities for submarines obtained through the AUKUS agreement fail to detect and thwart drones going near them, the outcome could be catastrophic.
It wasn’t much more than 12 months ago that sources inside the Australian Defence Force advised that they couldn’t confidently determine whether, when or how many drones were flying too close to assets or within restricted areas. Since my conversations at that time, little has changed.
Unfortunately, in most cases, old-hat methods of sensing and preventing drone intrusions come down to manual spotting and hard-kill capabilities. And they’re entirely impractical.
The first issue is that most drones go unseen. The inability to automate detection, particularly for more expensive drones that operate out of eyesight and earshot, welcomes surveillance and espionage. Detection, particularly once laced with artificial intelligence built to see and hear drones at long distances, is far more capable than a human alone. It allows alerts to be issued well before a threat becomes visible or audible to a lone human, triggering a rapid response long before a threat can cause damage.
The second problem is the mindset that we can simply shoot down anything that may pose a threat, whether that’s with live rounds or lasers. Economics and logistical constraints suggest relying on bullets or kinetic counter-drone weapons to stop drones is neither affordable nor effective, as it will take tens of thousands of dollars to take down a drone worth a few hundred dollars. The costs skyrocket when considering the risk of collateral damage from those weapons as well. Firing rotary cannons near our future nuclear submarine bases is not an option.
But even in the case a drone is stopped through traditional means, taking it down often results in a dead end. Drones are popular among nefarious actors because they are disposable. That doesn’t do much for Australia’s ability to determine who’s behind an incursion, where they are located, the information they have collected, and whether there is a broader risk at play on which to act. It’s this type of intelligence that could have alerted the US Secret Service to Crooks preparing his position, or to ensuring that an infantry unit knows a drone is nearby on the battlefield.
As legislation pushes forward, from the Defence Strategic Review to the infrastructure requirements, there is no time to sit idle while drones become a weapon of choice for surveillance and direct attacks. We can’t put all our focus on traditional means for protecting the nation and its interests; remit must expand to avoid a deer-in-the-headlights moment in the face of an inevitable drone attack.
