Command at Sea: Naval Command and Control since the Sixteenth Century (review)

Naval histories, Michael Palmer observes, have been replete with portraits of the great commanders. Where they have gone lacking, though, is explaining how admirals from Nelson to Nimitz actually exercised command. In Command at Sea, Palmer examines more than five hundred years of Western naval warfare, and offers a most engaging and sophisticated argument on the relationship between technology, warfare, and the naval culture.

The predominant historical challenge facing commanders at sea, Palmer contends, has been uncertainty. In Clausewitzian parlance, uncertainty was "the fog of war," those unforeseen aspects of a land battle that could turn victory into defeat. At sea the issue was no less critical. As European states began projecting power at sea in the sixteenth century, naval commanders faced the thorny problem of maintaining control of wooden warships at the mercy of wind, seas, the enemy, and their own subordinate commanders. Early attempts to organize ships into tight, line-ahead formations proved useful for small numbers of ships. But as navies expanded, Age of Sail commanders faced what seemed a Hobson's choice. They could give their subordinates latitude to use their initiative within the broad guidelines of the fleet commander. Or they could find a means to centralize command and control. Many commanders looked to technology, in the form of signaling systems, to alleviate their fear of losing control of their fleets. The Enlightenment's emphasis on science and rationality served to spur the development of more sophisticated numerary signaling systems, which were codified in signal books and distributed to all the ships in the fleet.

For naval officers who felt that their commands were being threatened by forces beyond their control, technology beckoned. Palmer's work is a cautionary tale on the relationship between warfare, technology, and the persons who use it. The signaling system, while enhancing a commander's control over his fleet, paradoxically restrained his ability to gain decision in battle. Palmer cites examples of key sea battles to illustrate how signaling technology complicated naval warfare. Nelson becomes a preeminent illustration of the advantages of decentralized command and control. Yet Palmer points out that many British naval officers ignored Nelson's unenlightened irrationalism for the comfort of the signal book. The emergence of steam and steel navies provided no clearer resolution. Commanders saw in sophisticated signaling systems such as submarine cables and wireless technology solutions to the uncertainty created by the increased speed and engagement ranges of warships. Yet the paradox of technology persisted, exacerbated by a lack of operational experiences, or what Clausewitz viewed as the "lubricant of friction." Royal Navy officers consequently suffered their greatest disappointment at Jutland, where John Jellicoe's rigid control of his fleet prevented any chance for decisive victory.

Watching all of this were American naval officers, new to the intricacies of modern naval warfare. These officers initially resisted the lure of technology and adopted decentralization as their doctrinal mantra. The navy's success against Japan demonstrated that individual initiative was still relevant in naval warfare. But Palmer points out that even the U.S. Navy's confidence in decentralized command could not withstand the march of technology. Nuclear weapons and defense unification replaced communications as the bane of decentralization. Unfortunately, missing in Palmer's cold war chapter is mention of the navy's Composite Warfare Concept, a brave attempt to keep alive the spirit of Chester Nimitz and Arleigh Burke. But Palmer's conclusion accurately illustrates that, in the wake of jointness, satellite communications, data links, and SLBMs, even the U.S. Navy eventually found itself becoming a more centralized organization.

Magnificently researched and cogently argued, Command at Sea offers a superb analysis of the paradox inherent in technology, warfare, and the naval culture. Palmer makes a successful case that the Age of Sail, a period rich in sea battles, merits so much attention. And though his examination of the twentieth century is brief, his narrative clearly illustrates the historical continuity...