War for Our World

China will be ready to invade Taiwan in 2027. Are we prepared to do anything about it?

On Halloween night in 1938, radio listeners nationwide were sent into a frenzy by shocking reports of an alien invasion. It wasn't until later that CBS disclosed the broadcast was just a dramatization of H.G. Wells' "War of the Worlds."

We reassure ourselves that such apocalyptic events are mere science fiction, yet like all compelling fiction, "War of the Worlds" is rooted in truth.

Wells drew inspiration for his novel from the British colonization of Tasmania, where the isolated and undeveloped Aborigines, lacking agriculture, metallurgy, and even simple tools like the bow and arrow, faced colonizers who must’ve seemed like “aliens”. The conflict was swiftly decided, and tragically, unlike in Wells' story, there was no pathogenic savior for the Aborigines; the majority succumbed to European diseases.

In truth, the existential fear that gripped America in 1938 wasn't mere science fiction horror, but an allegory for harsh realities that American society has grown to ignore.

Manufacturing Matters

Many find solace in our nation’s overwhelming technological superiority – that we are the “aliens”. Let me shatter this complacency.

Critically, merely designing advanced technology alone is insufficient; the capability to manufacture it is what actually matters. While the Nazis outpaced us in scientific achievements, deploying the first suborbital rockets and jet propulsion mid-war, the United States' immense industrial capacity brought both scale and rapid replenishment, outpacing destruction. This lesson remains very applicable.

Today, China significantly outpaces us industrially. They produce nearly two-thirds of the world's electric vehicles, positioning them as the largest international exporter. Tesla's Shanghai Gigafactory, which broke ground in 2019, saw its first car roll off the production line in under a year, and this facility was responsible for 51% of Tesla's global deliveries in 2023. Today, more than half of the world’s EVs on the road are found in China.

Around 45% of the cost of an EV comes from the batteries alone. Today, China produces over 75% of the world's lithium-ion cells and controls 50-100% of key components making up their supply chain, composed of critical minerals like lithium, graphite, nickel, and cobalt. Newer chemistries, like lithium iron phosphate (LFP) or sodium-ion, intending to alleviate supply chain concerns, have yet to be manufactured at scale in the United States, but are already produced on the order of hundreds of gigawatt-hours in China. Approximately 70% of Chinese EV’s delivered in 2023 were powered by LFP batteries. In 2011, Elon Musk chuckled at the notion of BYD, the world’s second largest battery manufacturer, competing in the EV market; in Q4 2023, BYD overtook Tesla as the world’s top EV seller. Elon is no longer laughing at the quality of Chinese manufacturing.

We are a decade behind China in batteries, but perhaps even farther in more foundational aspects of energy. In the early 2000s, China routinely experienced major electric grid blackouts, their power supply unable to meet the demand of their growing industrial sector. A decade on, China now leads in ultra-high voltage transmission, linking over 500 GW of solar and 21 GW of nuclear capacity under construction.

Meanwhile, the US grapples with over 2 terawatts of power projects stalled in interconnection limbo, and faces challenges in constructing even one reactor. And despite our success in deploying renewable energy, the majority of American solar panels and wind turbines are made by Chinese firms. These companies excel not merely through "cheap labor"; they're also building over 33 GWh of production capacity in the United States, leveraging refined manufacturing processes, and capitalizing on well-established supply chains. 

This is in stark contrast to production expectations for American firms. The lead time for a large transformer is approaching three years, and building new overhead transmission lines can take well over ten. Since 2014, the US added 7 GW of interregional transmission compared to China's 260 GW. This all comes at a time where “electrification” and AI demand immense power; our grid struggles, while China’s keeps pace.

China’s ascent also creeps into the stars. In 2023, China successfully launched 62 rockets, and plans for 100 in 2024; still behind SpaceX, but rapidly approaching their cadence. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) also aims to construct a 26,000 satellite network to compete with Starlink, and they’ve made clear their ambitions to build a base at the lunar south pole in partnership with Russia – who also brazenly considers placing nuclear weapons in orbit, risking critical communications infrastructure. China intends to land astronauts on the Moon in 2029 while Artemis mission timelines continue to slip. Our dominance in space is eroding.

The cosmic sea only reflects the terrestrial one. The CCP currently boasts the world's largest naval fleet by number of vessels, with shipbuilding capacity exceeding ours by over 200 times. Fueling this formidable industry, China dominates global steel production, accounting for more than 50% of the world's output. Meanwhile, U.S. Steel, a cornerstone of America's industrial history, is on the verge of acquisition by an overseas entity.

Foreign suppliers are now a cornerstone of our most critical sectors. Our government regularly uses Chinese drones, and even ones claimed to be American-made are full of Chinese components. Defense manufacturers state that full decoupling is impossible. A single F-35 contains many pounds of rare earth magnets, materials we could mine, refine, and manufacture at scale in the United States, yet we do not, reluctantly sending the majority of our raw production to China for processing.

And what we can make at home, we make little of. Our munition stockpiles are dwindling, with annual procurement on the order of dozens or hundreds, not the thousands needed for any prolonged engagement. Worse, critical leading-edge chips remain subject to geopolitical chess games, while government support for reshoring fabs is routinely hampered by regulatory red-tape. And even if we can build the massive facilities, it’s not clear we can staff them.

Our media is also no stranger to Chinese encroachment. At this past Super Bowl, there were five ads for Temu alone, and Shein is the world's fastest growing fashion brand (and likely the largest, too). TikTok has over 150 million users in the United States, and over ⅔ of American teens are on the app. Yes, cut it off from CCP control, but also recognize that China has built a more-addictive social media app than our domestic tech giants could muster. Failure here has inadvertently given the CCP “write access” to our youth’s hearts and minds.

Amid concerns of media distorting our children’s psyches, university controversies continue to distract us from real educational issues. China graduates over 77,000 STEM PhDs per year. The United States, in comparison, awards approximately 50,000. More concerning, China has pivoted to a focus on atoms over bits, with over 81,000 students studying material science today, and Nature declaring China the global leader for scientific research for the first time in 2022.

A focus on the physical world has radically evolved Chinese industry, and the days of menial manual labor are over. Today, factories across China have deployed robots at 12 times the rate of the United States. I’ve been told of Chinese all-in production costs that are less than just the raw material prices for their American counterparts. We have Silicon Valley and “the Gundo”, but China has Shenzhen, where a 9-9-6 work culture has built the world’s hardware marketplace, growing at over 5% GDP per year. 

It’s in this industrial heart of China that companies like Huawei and DJI are headquartered and staff tens of thousands of talented engineers. Such technologies are not only exported globally, but represent significant domestic military capabilities. Drones, specifically, define the modern battlefield; despite rapid funding and Western support, both Ukraine and Russia predominantly use Chinese-made systems, and even Iranian-designed drones have been ripped off and sold in volume on Alibaba.

Industrial capacity serves as a conflict deterrent, yet despite having more than double the population since World War II, we no longer build at the scale we once did. The America that spawned the aerospace, automobile, electric, and semiconductor sectors has atrophied, while China flexes its industrial muscles and begins to test its strength.

War is Real

What is ultimately at stake here transcends economics. Modern conflict is not won by expensive aircraft carriers, but thousands of low-cost, mass-produced systems born from a nation’s industrial base. And, if the Russo-Ukraine War is any example, we know such tactics can be incredibly bloody – analysts estimate over 500,000 casualties since the invasion began, even as a prolonged stalemate tempers deeper territorial gain. 

Consider that the United States sustained approximately 50,000 casualties over our two decades in the Middle East. Large-scale conflict with China, for example, could see that in just two weeks. This also comes at a time when military recruitment and reserves are at a historic shortfall. The Army Ready Reserve stood at 700,000 in 1973 and 450,000 in 1994; today, it is only 76,000. We cannot fill existing gaps in our active forces, let alone replenish them in a prolonged engagement. Some wonder if voluntary conscription – a 1970’s ideal born from a period of United States technological and industrial supremacy – is in fact an outdated concept. Moreover, this assumes that those drafted are even fit to serve; estimates suggest that over 77% of those eligible could not do so without a waiver due to factors like obesity or mental health.

Powerful technology exists to augment the warfighter and compensate for fewer soldiers, but the pace of Department of Defense adoption is sluggish at best. This problem is noted – and things are changing – but today we still need manpower to control our aircraft, command our warships, and hold territory. Moreover, a war without technological and informational dominance, like we had in Iraq and Afghanistan, demands troops capable of making decisions locally, particularly when satellites and drones are unreliable due to jamming or GPS denial. Of course, we must also accelerate the development of our own autonomous systems to overmatch our enemies (as China surely is.) But even with such technology, we must question our ability to use it; despite our vast forces in the region, we struggle to secure the Suez Canal from pirates.

A Crisis of Confidence

In the midst of the 1970s energy crisis, President Carter delivered stern remarks to the nation, highlighting a growing “crisis of confidence” that was a “fundamental threat to American democracy.”

“The threat is nearly invisible in ordinary ways. It is a crisis of confidence. It is a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will. We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation. The erosion of our confidence in the future is threatening to destroy the social and the political fabric of America.” - President Jimmy Carter

President Carter was speaking to a cynical people, grown disillusioned by “stagflation”, Vietnam, Watergate, and the assassinations of President Kennedy and Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. But despite an objectively better world today, modern America feels composed of similar disillusionment. We stand at historical levels of government distrust, polarization, pessimism, addiction, and suicide.

Moreover, the Western values and institutions we champion remain globally influential, even among our fiercest rivals. Russia and China have stock markets and (faux) elections, Afghanistan practices managerial capitalism with Taliban characteristics, and even the most remote terrorist cells are addicted to social media and watch anime. Hell, Xi Jinping's daughter went to Harvard! This is a cultural victory, so why do we feel like we’re losing?

I believe the issue is clear: America lacks a coherent vision for the future. Our victories are intangible rather than concrete achievements that galvanize national pride. As the world looks to us for leadership, America appears uncertain about its global role, a confusion that permeates through society. Modern malaise is best characterized by a nostalgia for a simpler past marked by clear-cut battles of good vs. evil and monumental industrial projects that spanned decades. In his “End of History”, Francis Fukuyama laments:

"The end of history will be a very sad time. The struggle for recognition, the willingness to risk one's life for a purely abstract goal, the worldwide ideological struggle that called forth daring, courage, imagination, and idealism, will be replaced by economic calculation, the endless solving of technical problems, environmental concerns, and the satisfaction of sophisticated consumer demands. In the post-historical period, there will be neither art nor philosophy, just the perpetual caretaking of the museum of human history. I can feel in myself, and see in others around me, a powerful nostalgia for the time when history existed.” - Francis Fukuyama

Modern managerial capitalism has struck a Faustian bargain, replacing the Homeric titans of our industrial past with bureaucrats and consultants focused on next quarter’s profits. This system is great at handling the complexity of modern institutions, but it routinely sacrifices vision and speed for stability. This might be acceptable when maintaining a lead, but we’re not winning.

An American Vision

America stands at a crossroads. The decline in our industrial leadership, contrasted sharply by China’s ascendancy, is not just an economic challenge, but a clarion call for a strategic, cohesive response. The urgency to act is not for a lack of competitors or existential threats, but from a diminished clarity about what to do about it.

We must redefine our national ethos with clear, powerful ideals to drive industrial revitalization and propel America into the 21st century. This means firmly committing to a set of principles, investing in reindustrialization — an unprecedented feat for nations that have previously de-industrialized — and drastically reducing administrative burden. The wealthiest areas in America should be innovation hubs, not regulatory centers. China does not inhibit themselves with IP issues or obtuse environmental policy. Ultimately, our policies must also foster an environment where manufacturing prowess is not only nurtured but celebrated. We must encourage daring individuals to build things, then actually let them do it.

Culturally, this means we must make doing hard, physical work cool again. Industrial roles won't out-pay Google or Jane Street, so they must attract talent through their mission and values. Before SpaceX, the smartest kids in school were not going into aerospace. Companies like Anduril and Hadrian have similarly elevated the status of their sectors, attracting top engineers to work on the most important issues. But this must happen across every industry and problem set, not just the sexy ones like space launch.

To some, these words may seem familiar, even trite. Regardless, I hope recognizing our industrial lag and the high stakes involved resonates deeply. This is not merely a matter for venture capitalists and politicians to pontificate; it involves us all.

You have a choice: actively engage in manifesting this industrial future, or face being drafted into efforts to reclaim lost ground – this time, under duress, and at a grave disadvantage, perhaps under new rules enforced by an adversary. Find a real problem that you care about and join a good company working on it; if there isn’t one, start that company yourself. You don’t have the time to wait – analysts estimate China will be ready to invade Taiwan in 2027. Are we prepared to do anything about it?

At this point, readers might feel a similar panic that struck audiences in 1938 listening to a fake alien invasion over the radio, but you will find no relief when this story ends, knowing full well that this essay is every bit nonfiction. The truth is bleak; societies that don’t build, die. We live at a time where science fiction is becoming real, and where exponential trends yield grave gaps in power. It does not take an alien invasion. Our downfall does not come from the stars, but our failure in reaching for them. A war for our world.