The conservative New Zealand Defence Force (NZDF) and Ministry of Defence remain focused on replacing what we already have, rather than critically assessing what will give New Zealand the greatest flexibility into the future. The current enthusiasm for frigates – and in particular the assumption that the Mogami class is the obvious answer to the Navy’s future – is a classic example of this thinking.
Frigates are impressive. They look serious, signal intent, and fit neatly into allied fleet constructs. But they are also expensive, manpower-hungry, and optimised for a narrow slice of high-end warfare that is unlikely to be fought as once imagined. For a country whose navy spends most of its time moving people, equipment, aid, and influence around the South Pacific, the frigate-first mindset deserves to be challenged.
The future of warfare is drones, in all domains. It is naïve to assume that everything our friends and allies are developing is not also being replicated by potential adversaries. Undersea drone missile platforms, not crewed surface combatants, are likely to be the frigates of the future, and we should be thinking about how we sustain them.
“The real question is not whether frigates are good ships. They are – and if we go down that path, we should buy a common platform with Australia such as the Mogami. The question is whether they are the best answer to New Zealand’s needs, constraints, and geography.”
The United States Navy has already walked away from its latest frigate programme after cost and complexity spiralled out of control, pivoting instead toward a medium landing ship based on Damen’s LST-100 design. Australia, while committing to Mogami-class frigates for high-end combat, has also selected the same hull for its Landing Craft Heavy programme and is building them domestically.
For New Zealand, interoperability matters – but it should not mean following blindly, particularly when such a purchase could consume so much of the total defence budget.
An LST option – specifically the stretched LST-120H variant – offers something a frigate never will: volume, access, and adaptability. These ships can move vehicles, engineers, relief supplies, unmanned systems, and troops in meaningful numbers. They can beach, operate from austere ports, and sustain operations across the Pacific without the fragile logistics chains a frigate-centric fleet demands.
Multirole ships are neither defenceless nor irrelevant in a contested environment; they are simply optimised differently. An LST-120H fitted with a dedicated Seahawk hangar fundamentally changes what such a platform can contribute. Organic aviation enables surveillance, credible anti-submarine warfare, and surface warfare capabilities that, in practical terms, mirror those of a frigate.
Firepower no longer needs to be fixed to the hull. Containerised weapon systems, including vertical-launch options, can be embarked when required and removed when they are not, allowing lethality to scale with the mission. The Mark 70 vertical launch system, with four Mark 41 tubes, can in practice be stored on deck anywhere a standard 40-foot ISO container would normally be positioned.
Just as importantly, the volume and endurance of an LST-120H make it an ideal mothership for autonomous and uncrewed systems. It could deploy, recover, and sustain platforms such as Anduril’s Ghost Shark and future missile-capable underwater vehicles, extending reach and deterrence without committing scarce high-end combatants. In aggregate, these systems could see a multirole ship carrying more practical firepower than a frigate alone.
Flexibility is the key. A frigate is excellent at being a frigate – but poor at almost everything else. A multirole ship can be a disaster-relief platform one month, a logistics node the next, a command ship for regional operations, or a mothership for drones and autonomous systems. It can operate independently or as part of an Australian-led task group.
There is also a hard-nosed financial argument. For the cost of one high-spec frigate, New Zealand could plausibly acquire multiple multirole ships, each delivering real utility while freeing resources for drone missile platforms, modular containerised vertical-launch systems, and additional Seahawk helicopters.
Numbers matter. A fleet of flexible ships with a common platform, in my view, trumps a couple of high-end fighting ships with limited adaptability.
None of this is an argument against allies or interoperability. On the contrary, choosing the same LST family as Australia and the United States would strengthen both. Common hulls mean shared training, spares, upgrades, and the ability to slot seamlessly into allied operations. It also opens the door to regional industrial participation, sustainment, and resilience.
The real question is not whether frigates are good ships. They are – and if we go down that path, we should buy a common platform with Australia such as the Mogami. The question is whether they are the best answer to New Zealand’s needs, constraints, and geography.
A navy built around multirole platforms accepts reality: that New Zealand’s strength lies in mobility, support, and regional leadership, not in mirroring the surface combat fleets of much larger powers.
If we want a Navy that is credible, affordable, and useful every day – not just impressive on paper – we should stop asking which frigate to buy, and start asking how to build a force designed for a future in which sea battles are fought by drones.
