In such contested and uncertain times, there is a need for strategy and statecraft to be applied in a clear, creative manner. Current signs indicate a necessity for a grander approach to Australian strategy – or even an “Australian Grand Strategy” – where Australia, as a middle power, articulates its “strategic script”. This involves outlining a vision for the region and Australia’s future role beyond the current political cycle. More importantly, a strategic script can guide how Australia develops and uses national power to achieve its goals. But to build this strategic script, we must build our institutional knowledge and capability to do so. A “School of Statecraft” is therefore needed to train our future strategic thinkers and help them develop innovative strategies to address future challenges.
Australia must reflect on the origins of its strategic ideas and foster big picture thinking in the decades ahead. What Australia truly needs is a fresh outlook on strategy, and clarity about the kind of thinkers it requires. Hedgehog and fox-like explanations of strategic thinking (drawn from the famous essay by Isaiah Berlin) can serve as an effective metaphorical device, helping us understand what to seek in our next generation of leaders. Berlin references the Greek poet Archilochus, who states that “the fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing”. Australia needs both.
Our current cohort of hedgehogs cannot agree on the fundamental character of Australian strategy.
The hedgehog is broad-minded and decisive, pursuing strategic goals with a singular vision. Hedgehogs tend to dominate Australian strategic discourse today – their tenacity and focus perpetuate possibly outdated and overused paradigms. Hedgehog thinking informs much of the discussion surrounding Australia’s current place in the world: a binary yet singular debate over whether the nation should be assertive in uncertain times or remain tucked away in its region, defended by geography.
Unfortunately, our current cohort of hedgehogs cannot agree on the fundamental character of Australian strategy. It is to our detriment. This is where nations that advance grand strategic theory differ: while hedgehogs disagree and contest over “strategies”, they fundamentally believe in the nation’s strategic foundations and their right and authority to move forward. We need only look to the United States in the 1950s, for example, a country beset by great confidence in itself, its thinkers and overall strategy. Nevertheless, upcoming strategists will need help from our existing cohort of hedgehog strategists now and into the future. Indeed, one might say it is their responsibility to help develop them. More importantly, they can help guide the next generation to achieve a grand strategic theory to drive Australia forward.
Complementing the need for new hedgehogs is the necessity for a new cohort of nuanced, humble, critical thinkers, or foxes. The fox recognises subtleties and utilises various tools and methods to advance their interests. They provide an alternative strategic perspective to the hedgehog. Foxes absorb new ideas, adjust strategies, and adapt to circumstances. They reformulate as new information emerges, embrace uncertainty, and recognise that different tools suit various situations. Navigating incrementally, they explore problems to uncover solutions. In Australia’s case, this involves skilfully using all tools of statecraft, or, as David Kilcullen describes, orchestrating the entire structure to tackle the various challenges in the immediate region. Fox-like approaches encompass diplomatic, humanitarian, military, cultural, and economic tools of statecraft. If one tool fails, Australia’s foxes learn and adapt by employing another.
An independent “School of Statecraft” would offer a relevant curriculum, operating above bureaucratic groupthink and political norms to help students develop strategic thinking.
Existing educational pathways are insufficient. Currently, several institutions offer training in aspects of statecraft, including the Diplomatic Academy, the Australian War College, the Australian Public Service Academy, and the National Security College. These operate independently and are primarily based in Canberra, focusing on specific aspects of national power rather than providing a comprehensive, cross-disciplinary approach that trains individuals across various vital areas as strategists and statespeople. Mastering statecraft requires a broad education that combines knowledge of adaptive history and practical experience from across Australia, not just the capital. To develop future hedgehog and fox-like strategists, establishing a school dedicated to the classical Art of Statecraft is vital.
An independent “School of Statecraft” would offer a relevant curriculum, operating above bureaucratic groupthink and political norms to help students develop strategic thinking. It would attract top Australian talent across multiple fields (diplomacy, intelligence, public service, military, business, academia, journalism), emphasising lateral thinking, and should become a dedicated institution rather than just an extra master’s course, given the high stakes Australia faces. Existing models such as the Ax:son Johnson Institute for Statecraft and Diplomacy, which is a consortium and network of specialised schools in the United Kingdom, Sweden, and the United States, offers an example of this idea.
The curriculum should include classical topics such as diplomacy, history, war studies, strategy, literature, business, psychology, and economics but must incorporate distinctive Australian characteristics. Taking a holistic approach, it should encompass teachings from Carl von Clausewitz to Kilcullen, Immanuel Kant to Peter Singer, Lawrence Freedman to Allan Gyngell, Adam Smith to Frank Lowy, and David Horne to Hannah Ferguson, thereby equipping future strategists and statespeople with essential knowledge and practical skills for future challenges.
Australian strategic thinking must become more flexible and adaptable. Given the radical changes occurring in Australia’s region and the declining support for the rules-based order, there is a need for a new generation of thinkers – both the bold hedgehogs with big ideas and the quick-witted foxes. This will enable future strategists to engage in, as Brendan Sargeant argues, “strategic imagination” regarding Australia’s current position in the changing world order and its future over the next few decades.
Establishing a new, independent, well-funded “School of Statecraft” dedicated to teaching the Art of Australian Statecraft would be a simple yet effective way to keep Australia ahead in the game, especially as we face an environment unlike any previous generation has experienced.
