The killing of Anwar al-Awlaki by a drone strike focuses our attention on the increasing use of drones in our fight against al Qaeda and other terrorist organizations. And it raises a number of compelling issues for those who care about the moral use of deadly force.
Consider, for example, this article : it seems that scientists and soldiers in my neck of the woods are investigating the prospects for “autonomous” technology on the battlefield—that is, drones that can identify a target and fire a missile without so much as a mouse-click by a human operator.
Now, the use of drones as weapons is controversial enough , though I have to confess that I’m not all that impressed by many of the most abstract arguments against them. What I’d like to see in the first instance is a realistic comparison of the advantages and disadvantages of drones and the plausible alternatives to them. At first glance, drones strike me as superior (in terms of hitting targets and reducing collateral damage) to cruise missiles and fighter-bombers, but inferior to a spec-ops sniper. But the costs and risks associated with getting a sniper and his team close to the target are quite high. So I can—for the moment, at least—live with drones, assuming the war in which they’re deployed is just.
But autonomous drones that rely, say, on facial recognition software strike me as more problematic. To be sure, they’re far superior to landmines, their very primitive technological ancestors. Their proponents argue that the drones can process more information and respond more quickly than any human being (especially if the human being has to engage in consultation up the chain of command before acting). What’s more, they say, programming that includes the laws of war and the rules of engagement can avoid human errors and trangressions in the heat of battle. The adrenaline, anger, exhaustion, and (let’s face it) sinfulness that can lead soldiers to cross a line aren’t present in microprocessors.
Nevertheless, I wonder about the connection between morality and responsibility in the use of autonomous drones. To the degree that no responsible individual pulls a trigger—er, clicks a mouse—in these cases, there would seem to be little room for the prudential judgment that is one of the hallmarks of our humanity. Those who program and those who deploy such weapons could sincerely believe that they are restricting their focus to the most obvious and most legitimate targets. No one would seem to be responsible for the mistakes, which would seem to be the regrettable result of hardware or software glitches. Better, I think, to have someone who can actually be accountable make the choice to try to hit the target.
This brings me back to the most recent, well-publicized drone strike. The Obama administration ordered the killing of an American citizen , and a drone succeeded in hitting its target. Taking what in his circles seems to be an unpopular position, NRO ‘s Kevin D. Williamson lays out a parade of horribles that could be said to follow from these events, among them these:
According to the standards set by the Obama administration, the things that can get one designated an enemy combatant — designated by the legally unimpeded military in the course of any campaign, legitimate or otherwise, the president has unjusticiable and legally unlimited power to initiate — include making speeches and publishing magazine articles. As VDH notes below, Awlaki was considered dangerous largely because of his linguistic ability and his social-media savvy . . . .Awlaki was obviously in the camp (metaphorically and then literally) of our mortal enemies. If propagandizing on behalf of a mortal enemy were enough to justify the assassination of a U.S. citizen, then we would have shot half the faculty of Harvard and 93.8 percent of the Motion Picture Academy a few decades back. But this is wartime, the argument goes. So was Korea, Vietnam, and much of the second half of the 20th century, but we managed to get through it without ordering the assassination of I. F. Stone , and his beloved Soviets were a far greater threat to this nation than is al-Qaeda.
Even if you discount the hyperbole, Williamson does point out the complexities into which our conflict with al Qaeda has driven us. Because we’re fighting an organization that relies on individuals rather than military formations, our targets are not tanks, missile batteries, airfields, or divisional headquarters, but rather individuals whose expertise and influence seem to make them particularly threatening to us. The problem with targeting particular individuals is that it begins to look a lot like either execution or assassination—judicial or extra-judicial killing. Of course, our selection of targets will never satisfy our rightly fastidious judicial standards, and probably should not, since the purpose of war is not to punish but rather to prevent harm to one’s people.
Needless to say, that some of our targets are American citizens doesn’t make things any easier.
It is surely not wrong to be a bit uncomfortable here, as Chuck Colson was in this commentary about 18 months ago, when the Obama Administration first placed al-Awlaki on its kill or capture list. There is no easy way to draw lines or to prescribe in advance which targets are legitimate and which illegitimate. So much depends upon the character of those making the decisions and the weight of responsibility they feel. And that takes us back to the institutions in which they’re educated and edified, and to the institutions in which those who hold them accountable—that would be us, the voters—are educated and edified.
Are you confident that the power we have will be used with prudence and decency? From what I see and hear of the military academies , I have some confidence. But what of the other colleges and universities in which our leaders are educated? And the families and churches?
