Weapons Watchdog
Thomas Christie, the Pentagon's in-house weapons tester, sounds like an independent watchdog when talking about the impact the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have had on the development of weapons. "Every time you have a conflict, it's an opportunity to go show off these systems," he says. "I might call them toys."
A moment later, though, Christie backs off, fearing his comment sounds too pejorative. He strikes a more diplomatic note, saying that today's wars require "new kinds of thinking and some new approaches."
Lately, Christie, the Pentagon's director of operational test and evaluation, is trying to cut back on bashing weapons developers. Instead, he wants military testers to work more closely with program managers, engineers and contractors to field weapons more quickly and safely. To maintain his influence, Christie has been walking the fine line between pushing for tough testing and gaining the respect of weapons developers.
Weapons testers must "change our way of doing business, adapt to the new acquisition paradigms and the realities of the war on terrorism, or we will find ourselves becoming irrelevant, with dire consequences to the operational forces," Christie said this spring at the National Defense Industrial Association's test and evaluation symposium in Reno, Nev. Weapons program managers, he said, "appear to be learning faster how to avoid testing than we are learning to do it better."
The Defense Department will spend $74 billion this year buying new weapons, and Christie wants to make sure they work as expected. With snow-white hair and deep wrinkles across his broad face, Christie appears well-suited for the role of curmudgeon and skeptic-in-chief. He asks if Army ground vehicles had enough rounds fired at them, questions whether Air Force planes were forced to maneuver in real dogfights and wonders whether Navy ships had powerful enough waves slammed into their hulls.
Congress created Christie's office in the mid-1980s (he's been its director since 2001), amid reports that weapons system managers were skirting tough testing. In one infamous case, the Air Force dropped a heat-seeking missile from a crane onto a target warmed by an electric hot plate and claimed success. Christie's office doesn't conduct tests itself, but rather reviews the services' evaluation efforts to ensure weapons pass more than a hot-plate test. He can't stop a system from being built, but his critiques often lead to more testing before a weapon moves from factory to foxhole.
"Just having the office there makes a difference because it encourages [weapons] developers to do things they might not have done otherwise," says Philip Coyle, who preceded Christie as the Pentagon's director of operational test and evaluation from 1994 to 2001. "Everybody wants to get into production and not spend money that they don't feel they have to."
In recent years, the Pentagon has embraced a piecemeal approach, known as "spiral development," to buying weapons. The strategy calls for fielding weapons in stages and upgrading them as technologies mature rather than waiting years (in some cases, decades) for systems to be fully developed. Supporters say spiral development allows the services to field technology faster, especially during wartime. Critics warn that systems are being fielded before they are ready.
Christie says spiral development, coupled with a rush to field weapons during recent conflicts, calls for "up-to-date, continuous test and evaluation." Implementing weapons systems more quickly requires operational testing earlier in the process, he argues. Jacques Gansler, who served as the Pentagon's acquisition chief in the Clinton administration, agrees. He says that rather than focusing on "no-go tests" just before weapons are fielded, testers should work with developers early on. "You need to keep challenging systems," Gansler says.
Dina Rasor, whose work as an investigative reporter about lax weapons testing helped convince Congress to create Christie's office, cautions against having operational testers work too closely with program managers and contractors. "You have to have someone who has the attitude, 'Let's go out there and break it,' " says Rasor, who is now a member of the board of directors of the Project on Government Oversight, a nonprofit watchdog organization in Washington. "There are no checks and balances if you are all buddy-buddy."
Christie says no systems have been fielded on his watch that would place troops at risk, although he has issued warnings about potential problems. He cautioned the Army about insufficient armor on its Stryker vehicles and the service made upgrades before the vehicles were sent to Iraq. His office informed the Navy of a faulty avionics subsystem on its F-18 E/F Hornet fighter aircraft, and as a result one commander told pilots not to use that feature during combat operations. In March, Christie informed Congress that the Pentagon's multibillion-dollar missile defense system set to be deployed later this year hasn't been thoroughly tested and might not work.
Operational testers also have scrutinized the Air Force's F/A-22 fighter, which has been in development since 1988 at a cost of $32 billion. The planes now cost more than $250 million apiece. "It's a question of almost 20 years later, what do we have?" Christie asks. He has repeatedly warned the Air Force that the aircraft is not ready for independent operational testing and can't be fielded by the end of 2005 as planned.
The Air Force has heeded those concerns and slowed down the fighter plane's schedule. The service is now testing the F-22 in various battle scenarios, ranging from defending land from enemy fighters to escorting bombers. Christie credits the Air Force with coming around to the idea of more testing. But, he adds, the service only agreed to the plan to "get people off their backs," and hopes successful results will "help sell it even more."
The balance Christie strikes between keeping an eye on F/A-22 developers and working more closely with them is a role he been honing since his federal career began almost 50 years ago as a GS-5 analyst at Eglin Air Force Base, Fla., where he earned $4,000 annually.
In the mid-1960s, Christie met an up-and-coming fighter pilot, Maj. John Boyd, a visionary but eccentric strategist who later became a driving force in developing the Air Force's F-15 and F-16 fighter planes. Boyd, who was not popular with military brass, needed computer power to test his theories on aircraft maneuverability, and Christie had computer access. Christie had the numbers crunched; Boyd used them to craft his theories. The Air Force's inspector general investigated allegations of $1 million in illegal computer use by Boyd, but did not find evidence of misuse. Christie was never targeted.
Almost two decades later, Christie was a manager in the Pentagon's Program Analysis and Evaluation Office, which advises the Defense secretary on weapons spending. One of his employees, an outspoken analyst named Chuck Spinney, was holding press conferences and testifying before Congress that the Pentagon was underestimating the cost of the Reagan defense buildup by billions of dollars.
Pentagon leaders wanted Spinney gone; Christie kept him on. Spinney, who remained in the office until he retired last year, says Christie has the remarkable ability to be accepted by Defense reformers and still rise in the Pentagon bureaucracy. That capacity led to the nickname his colleagues pinned on him: The Finagler.
By now, Christie, who turns 70 next spring, is in some ways the consummate Defense insider. He has a large Pentagon office and oversees 46 analysts. He reports only to the Defense secretary and is widely quoted in the press when he testifies before Congress. Christie says he's more cautious in such a visible role. But then, he adds, "Sometimes it's easier not to operate out in the open."
As always, Thomas Christie walks a fine line.
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