There’s a moment in Indiana Jones when a would‑be adversary performs an elaborate routine with a sword — twirling, posing, displaying his prowess — and Indiana gives him a weary look before ending the performance with a single shot.
Pete Hegseth seems rather taken with the swordsman.
In his September 30 address, Hegseth returned to his vision of military leadership: physical toughness, a warrior’s appearance, and a willingness to dispense with officers who do not fit the mold. He announced that the ranks of generals and admirals would be reduced by 20 percent. He also unveiled a new command devoted to autonomous warfare and a project to imagine the military technologies of the future.
Among those recruited to help lead that effort were Elon Musk, Palmer Luckey, and Newt Gingrich.
The contrast is remarkable.
On the one hand, experienced military officers are being removed as part of an effort to transform the armed forces. On the other, a businessman with no military service and a former Speaker of the House are being invited to help envision the future of warfare.
Perhaps they have useful ideas. But what, exactly, qualifies them to make these judgments?
Musk has assembled and financed companies responsible for important technological achievements. SpaceX provides services of considerable value to the military. But the achievements of a company are not proof that its owner possesses the technical expertise of its engineers, much less the operational judgment of an experienced military commander.
We have already seen Musk’s approach to transforming a government institution. DOGE arrived with extraordinary promises of efficiency and savings. Its public accounting later proved so unreliable that federal auditors found billions in claimed savings that were inaccurate or could not be substantiated.
Apparently, the experience did little to diminish his standing as an authority on institutional reform.
There is nothing wrong with bringing outside perspectives into the Pentagon. A military that cannot learn from engineers, scientists, and entrepreneurs is likely to discover its limitations in the worst possible circumstances.
But the ability to identify a promising technology is not the same as knowing how to employ it in combat. And the ability to run a company is not the same as knowing how to organize an army.
The war in Ukraine has demonstrated how quickly drones, electronic warfare, surveillance, and precision weapons can change the battlefield. Exposed troops and equipment can be located and attacked with extraordinary speed. Successful operations require concealment, coordination, logistics, adaptation, and an understanding of how the enemy will respond.
These are not qualities that can be measured by a photograph of an officer in uniform.
Physical fitness matters. Courage matters. Soldiers have every reason to expect their leaders to understand the hardships they endure.
But the qualifications required to command a platoon are not identical to those required to command an army. The further an officer advances, the more important the ability to evaluate competing advice, recognize technological change, manage complex organizations, and make decisions whose consequences extend far beyond the battlefield.
An experienced general is not automatically an expert in artificial intelligence or autonomous weapons. But neither does owning a company that sells technology to the military make someone an expert in warfare.
That expertise must be demonstrated.
And there is a further complication when the people advising the Pentagon also own companies seeking its contracts. Their ideas may be valuable, but their commercial interests are real. Independent military judgment becomes more important under those circumstances, not less.
Hegseth is right to recognize that future wars will demand new technologies and new ways of fighting. The question is whether his conception of leadership will produce the officers capable of understanding and employing them.
A military can acquire the most sophisticated drones in the world and still make disastrous decisions about how to use them. It can eliminate layers of command and discover too late that it has also eliminated the people who understood why those layers existed.
And it can mistake an impressive display of toughness for the qualities that actually win wars.
The future of warfare will not be won by knife dancers.
It will be won by leaders who know better than to perform one.