New Zealand risks falling behind amid a drone-enabled transformation in warfare. We need a fundamental shift in both military strategy and our approach to innovation – and political leadership is needed, writes former New Zealand Army officer Graeme Doull.
Cheap, mass-produced drones are transforming modern warfare as profoundly as the machine gun did in World War I, and tanks and combined arms tactics did in World War II. Despite this clear and ongoing revolution, the New Zealand Army appears dangerously slow to adapt. This isn’t just a funding issue; it’s a deep-seated problem of mindset and institutional culture.
The economics of warfare have fundamentally shifted, and New Zealand’s Defence establishment is failing to keep pace. For the cost of a single Javelin missile—approximately NZ$400,000—one could acquire a thousand off-the-shelf drones. While a Javelin might neutralise a single armoured vehicle, a swarm of drones could disable dozens, gather real-time intelligence, and coordinate strikes—all while being highly expendable.
There are several interlocking challenges: the Army lacks a procurement framework suited to rapid innovation; there is no established training doctrine for drones; and critically, no operational structure to integrate drone capabilities into existing units.
New Zealand must learn from Ukraine’s use of drones (and, just as importantly, from their counter-drone systems). We must embrace a culture of experimentation that starts with enabling decentralised procurement.
Our procurement process is a major bottleneck. A quick search on AliExpress reveals a drone with a 2.2 kg payload, a 30-minute flight time, and a 5 km range for just NZ$360. In an agile system, such a drone could just be bought and used almost immediately.
In the NZ Army, however, it would likely never pass through the rigid layers of bureaucracy, NATO standards, and vendor approvals. While these processes have their place, they inadvertently prevent the adoption of agile, low-cost solutions.
A deeper issue lies in the Army’s institutional culture and training philosophy. While a few officers and soldiers have some exposure to a drone environment, no one in New Zealand has significant experience operating in a layered drone battlespace. Training in the NZ Army is an obsession, with formal courses being a prerequisite for both core competency and promotion. As instructors lack knowledge of drone warfare, they can’t teach it, making this omission systemic.
The Army is, by design, a disciplined, process-driven organisation—and rightly so. But when processes and doctrine become disconnected from the realities of the modern battlefield, they become liabilities rather than strengths. Furthermore, the NZ Army is already stretched thin, with existing personnel gaps. There is little sign of the structural expansion needed to build these new capabilities at every level, from individual sections to battalion groupings.
The solution requires a fundamental shift in both military strategy and our approach to innovation. We must first look to Ukraine. In its fight for survival, Ukraine has demonstrated the extraordinary potential of drone warfare. Its innovation under fire has reshaped the battlefield and served as a crucial lesson for the rest of the world.
When Ukraine’s Ambassador to New Zealand, Vasyl Myroshnychenko, said, “You need us more than we need you,” it was not hubris—it was a challenge. A call to pay attention.
New Zealand must learn from Ukraine’s use of drones (and, just as importantly, from their counter-drone systems). We must embrace a culture of experimentation that starts with enabling decentralised procurement. This would allow sub-units and civilian partners to rapidly test and iterate drone solutions. The current centralised process is too slow, too risk-averse, and too bound by outdated assumptions.
We must accept risk, failure, and uncertainty—something our Defence institutions are often uncomfortable with. Innovation requires iteration. Repeated field exercises involving hundreds of drone operators and civilian tech specialists must become the norm. These drills should include offensive simulations—dropping inert munitions, jamming GPS, and disabling drones mid-flight—to build doctrine through real-world experimentation.
Defence procurement planning must move beyond replacing old equipment and begin fostering future-focused development. This means empowering new entrants, embracing novel technologies, and funding platforms with growth potential—not just proven past performance.
Ultimately, bold political action is required to overcome the institutional paralysis in Defence. If left to its own devices, the Army will likely maintain the status quo, preserving existing capabilities while the world moves on. A call to action, similar to the memo issued by Pete Hegseth on 10 July 2025, is needed. The memo delegated authority for procurement and operation, emphasising that the “major risk is risk-avoidance.” New Zealand needs to do likewise—direction must be set at the political level and followed up with sustained focus from the leadership of the NZ Army.
In the modern battlespace, there are either drones or targets. If we don’t have the right drones, the consequences will be lethal for our soldiers.