Saturday, January 10, 2026
Friday, January 9, 2026
In 2025, melting sea ice allowed a Canadian icebreaker to enter the world's last ice area
CCGS Amundsen in the Canadian High Arctic.For the first time in history, a Canadian research icebreaker entered the waters around the Queen Elizabeth Islands and western Tuvaijuittuq.
From CBC news by Samuel Wat
Voyage marks the first comprehensive oceanographic research in the region, DFO says
The waters around the Queen Elizabeth Islands and western Tuvaijuittuq in Canada's High Arctic have long remained a mystery to scientists.
Often referred to as one of the last places in the world with year-round sea ice, these waters have historically been difficult to access because of the thickness of the ice.
But melting sea ice has opened a path for a Canadian research icebreaker to sail through some of these passageways for the first time ever.
“We have lost ice, we have increased the area of open water, and the area is now more navigable,” said David Babb, a research associate at the University of Manitoba’s Centre for Earth Observation Science.
On Sept. 4, scientists with Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) and the University of Manitoba embarked on a four-week cruise aboard the CCGS Amundsen to study Arctic sea ice.
In written responses to CBC News, DFO said the voyage represents the first comprehensive oceanographic research mission to reach this area of the Canadian Archipelago.
David Babb, one of the researchers on board the CCGS Amundsen this year, found some ice up to seven metres thick, but these were rare finds.(Alexandre Normandeau)
Babb, who was part of the expedition, explained that there are two types of ice: seasonal ice and multi-year ice.
Seasonal ice generally grows over one winter, is thinner, and can lead to open water, whereas multi-year ice has thickened over multiple winters.
He says there’s more seasonal ice nowadays and less of the multi-year ice.
Multiple studies suggest the Arctic is warming four times faster than anywhere else on Earth, and there are different estimates for how soon sea ice in the Arctic could disappear.
Some suggest it could happen within this decade.
The fact that an icebreaker is able to enter one of the world’s last refuges of sea ice is yet another startling sign of the effects of climate change.
But it also presents an opportunity for scientists like Babb to learn more about this “understudied” part of the Arctic.
“This allows us to sort of understand what is happening in this area right now and guide projections on what is going to happen into the future,” Babb said.
'Really deteriorated and heavily melted sea ice'
The thickest ice they found was around seven metres, but Babb says these were difficult finds.
“We were finding really deteriorated and heavily melted sea ice....
Fortunately, both scientifically and personally, it was reassuring to know that we did start to find some thicker ice [further south],” he said.
Researchers with the University of Manitoba are looking to do more studies in Canada's Arctic Archipelago.The CCGS Amundsen, a Canadian Coast Guard ship, acts as a home base for scientists venturing out onto the ice or flying overhead for surveying.
Despite this area being several hundred kilometres away from the nearest Nunavut communities, like Grise Fiord and Resolute Bay, Babb says what happens up in the High Arctic will ripple down south where there are larger fisheries in operation.
At the end of their expedition in October, the team attended a science day at Resolute Bay’s Qarmartalik School to show some of their work and exchange knowledge with the community.
Grade 11 student Kupaaq Idlout says he learned a lot about the presence of mercury and phytoplankton in the ocean.
He was most surprised to hear about “the amount of salt in different areas [of Nunavut] even though they are so close together.”
Researchers on board the CCGS Amundsen stopped by the Qarmartalik School's science day to share some of their findings from their expedition, as well as hear from the community about their observations.Teacher Rhonda McKenzie says she also hears community members talk about the changing ice conditions.
“Some of the elders have told me that the ice is melting faster and that they could have traveled by sled to certain islands or places longer into the year … but now it’s kind of different,” she said.
Babb says they’re pushing to get community members to help measure ice thickness when they’re out on the land, and hopefully some will join their voyage next year.
“They live on the land, they live on the ice, they spend a lot of time on the water.
They have these intangible observations that we can't collect,” he said.
- CBC : The Arctic is warming 4 times faster than the world / What does that mean for the N.W.T.? / The Arctic is heating up quickly, but scientists say polar geoengineering is 'unrealistic' and 'dangerous'
Thursday, January 8, 2026
The Royal Navy’s future Large Uncrewed Surface Vessels and the cultural obstacles to autonomy
In this guest article, Matthew Bell, an officer in the Royal Australian Navy, considers the cultural challenges may be a bigger barrier to the RN’s adoption of Large Uncrewed Surface Vessels (LUSVs) than technical issues such as satellite bandwidth or artificial intelligence.
Bringing LUSVs into service will mean changing long-standing maritime traditions, not just updating technology.
With ships like the XV Patrick Blackett and the quick rollout of the Mine Hunting Capability (MHC) programme, the Royal Navy is moving past the testing phase.
Uncrewed systems are now becoming key parts of the fleet.
The latest plan calls for a “hybrid fleet” that mixes traditional ships with autonomous platforms.
As the Navy brings in systems like the Rattler USV and MHC boats, it must also overcome cultural resistance, not just technical hurdles.
Navies are naturally conservative, relying on clear hierarchy, strict accountability, and generations of “sea sense” to handle the unpredictability of the ocean.
The RN, especially, values traditions that make it slow to adopt automation.
Hierarchical command, discipline, and respect for the chain of command are central to naval life.
Seamanship, which combines technical skill and instinct, is learned through years at sea.
Removing people from ships confronts these core beliefs and raises questions about whether such experience can be replaced by automation.
While building a machine that can run autonomously for 30 days is tough, integrating it into a fleet that values human judgment and presence is even harder.
The trust deficit
Trust is the biggest challenge in the command cycle.
The Commanding Officer of a destroyer or frigate can judge their Officer of the Watch’s fatigue, experience, and judgment with a quick conversation or a look across the room.
This shared understanding and training have shaped naval command for centuries.
The CO knows their team has the same background, follows the same rules, and shares the same sense of responsibility.
Replacing a crew member with an algorithm or a remote operator breaks this intuitive connection.
The key question is whether a CO can trust an LUSV to hold its position in a rough storm as much as they trust a human crew.
In a crisis, hesitation to rely on a robot’s threat assessment could be deadly.
Trust in automation can go wrong in two ways: operators might trust the system too much, even when it’s wrong, or commanders might not use its full abilities because they don’t trust it.
In traditional command, an officer can explain their tactical decisions.
Artificial intelligence systems often cannot explain their choices, such as why a contact was flagged as hostile.
For a service committed to accountability, this lack of transparency is problematic.
When commanders cannot understand a USV’s actions, they may choose to use it only in safe, low-risk roles, limiting its intended contribution.
The Navy’s legal and ethical framework assumes that a “master” is always responsible.
The RN’s internal culture of discipline relies on a clear chain of command where the Captain is ultimately responsible for everything that happens on their ship.
If a frigate runs aground, the Captain’s career is effectively over, regardless of whether they were asleep in their cabin or on the bridge.
This absolute accountability drives the extreme diligence and caution that keep the fleet safe.
LUSVs make accountability less clear.
If an autonomous vessel makes a mistake or breaks navigation rules, it’s hard to know who is at fault.
Is it the remote operator, the software engineer, or the commander who gave the order?
The current naval justice system is ill-equipped to prosecute a software error.
Until the Navy can clearly articulate the chain of accountability for machine failure and specifically, “who goes to Court Martial” when a robot fails, commanders will remain risk-averse.
There is likely a palpable fear among senior officers of being the first to have their careers ended by a glitch in a system they cannot physically touch or override.
This hesitation will likely lead to restrictive Rules of Engagement for any USVs, effectively voiding their potential capability.
Sailor identity crisis
The Navy workforce will also be facing an identity crisis.
For centuries, joining the Navy meant going to sea, sharing close quarters, enduring tough deployments, and building strong bonds through shared experiences.
These traditions have created the teamwork needed in combat.
As more LUSVs and uncrewed minehunters are used, more crew members will work from shore.
Their skills are now closer to those of air traffic controllers or drone pilots than traditional sailors.
This shift could create a cultural divide, with remote operators being seen as less important than those at sea.
To adjust to this, the Navy could create new symbols of prestige, such as special badges or call signs, and hold ceremonies to recognise remote operators.
This would help raise the status of shore-based roles and make them part of naval tradition.
A ‘Warrior Ethos’ is central to military effectiveness.
Historically, it has been driven by shared risk, where a sailor on a warship knows that if they fail to shoot down an incoming missile, their own life is in jeopardy.
For remote operators, however, the risk they face is not physical peril but rather the potential jeopardy to mission success and fleet integrity.
This reframing from personal survival to mission-critical outcomes is necessary for maintaining the same level of urgency and commitment.
The Navy must adapt to instil the same sense of discipline and fighting spirit in personnel who operate remotely, ensuring they understand the profound impact of their role in mission success, even if they may go home after their shift has ended.
Furthermore, recruitment becomes a battleground of culture.
The technical aptitude required to manage complex autonomous systems often correlates with a personality type that can conflict with traditional military rigidity.
The Maritime Autonomous Surface Ships (MASS) UK Code of Practice highlights the need for specific training certifications.
Still, the cultural prestige attached to these new roles has yet to be established.
If the Navy cannot make the role of a USV controller culturally aspirational, it will fail to man the unmanned fleet.
Senior officers say ‘sea sense’ is the instinct and experience that sailors gain from being at sea, not from simulators.
There are real worries that remote operators may lose this connection and miss the subtle cues needed to understand the maritime environment.
A remote operator may have perfect data feeds, but they cannot feel the ship’s motion or experience the subtle changes in the wind.
This sensory deprivation could lead to decisions that appear logical on a display but are dangerous in reality.
For instance, forcing a hull through a head sea may seem efficient on a chart plotter, but a sailor onboard would recognise the hull is under critical stress from the sound of the waves slamming against it.
With the absence of this feedback loop, remote operators may unintentionally damage vessels or place them in situations from which they cannot be retrieved.
A proposed mitigation for this lack of ‘sea sense’ could be periodic embarked days for remote operators, allowing them to experience firsthand the conditions and stresses encountered at sea.
This hands-on experience could restore some intuition, bridging the gap between diagnosis and remedy, although it is likely that autonomy and remote operations will lead to an erosion of ‘sea sense’.
The death of damage control culture
One of the Royal Navy’s biggest strengths is its damage control culture.
Every sailor, no matter their job, is trained to fight fires and stop floods.
The motto is ‘Float, Move, Fight.’
USVs change this completely.
A LUSV has no damage control team.
If it catches fire, it burns; if it’s damaged, it sinks.
The focus shifts from saving the ship to using it as an expendable asset.
While it makes sense to lose equipment rather than lives, this is a significant shift in thinking.
It turns a warship, once a symbol of national pride, into something more like a glorified tin can.
This change could lead to a careless attitude about maintenance.
If no one lives on the ship, why keep it polished or maintain it thoroughly?
Without a crew to take ownership, LUSVs could be neglected and become unreliable.
The Navy needs to help shore-based teams feel the same pride in these vessels as if they were living on them, or readiness will drop.
Integrating the hybrid fleet
The interaction between the crewed and uncrewed fleets creates deeply cultural operational friction.
For example, how does a human-crewed frigate work with a robotic partner? A USV communicates via datalink.
Integrating a silent participant into a vocal bridge team requires a change in bridge resource management.
The Officer of the Watch cannot shout at the USV to “come right” in an emergency; they must interface with a console or relay a request to a remote operator.
This introduces latency and removes the human nuance of tone and urgency.
In the high-pressure environment of combat, this silence could be disconcerting and lead to coordination breakdown.
The First Sea Lord, General Sir Gwyn Jenkins, has been vocal about the necessity of this transition, framing it not as an option but as an existential requirement.
This has been compared to the “Dreadnought moment”,a paradigm shift in which the old rules of naval warfare are rewritten overnight.
Speaking at DSEI 2025, General Jenkins emphasised that the RN must embrace a future that is “uncrewed wherever possible; crewed only where necessary.” This statement is a radical departure from centuries of doctrine, where the crew was the defining feature of the ship.
Jenkins has also acknowledged the cultural weight of this transition and the role that leaders will play.
His comments highlight a recognition at the highest levels that the barrier is not just technological.
However, as history shows, the ‘Old Navy’ often resists the ‘New Navy’ with fierce institutional inertia.
The challenge for the First Sea Lord is to ensure that his vision of a hybrid fleet does not crash against the rocks of traditionalism in the wardrooms and messes of the fleet.
Conclusion
The RN is right to invest in uncrewed systems.
The benefits in numbers, endurance, and risk reduction are clear and essential for a mid-sized navy with global responsibilities.
But technical problems like datalinks and sensors will probably be solved faster than the cultural challenges.
Integrating these vessels requires a new doctrine that is honest about the limitations of autonomy and clear about human responsibilities.
It requires a personnel strategy that values the remote operator as much as the seagoing officer and sailor.
Most importantly, it requires a cultural shift that views the USV not as a threat to naval tradition but as the only way to preserve the Navy’s relevance in the 21st century.
If a navy doesn’t update its culture along with its technology, it could end up with advanced ships that commanders are too hesitant or conflicted to use them.
The RN has made significant changes before, such as moving from sail to steam and from coal to nuclear power.
Shifting from manned to hybrid ships will require a similar mindset shift.
Wednesday, January 7, 2026
U.S. will ‘soon’ annex Greenland, wife of top Trump aide implies
SOON pic.twitter.com/XU6VmZxph3
— Katie Miller (@KatieMiller) January 3, 2026
From Artic Today by Elías Thorsson
Former Trump administration official and wife of top Trump aide Stephen Miller, Katie Miller, posted Saturday on X (formerly Twitter) an image of Greenland covered in the U.S. flag with the text “SOON”.
The image, which shows a detailed map of Greenland overlaid with the stars and stripes, quickly circulated for its apparent suggestion that the island will fall under U.S. control.
The post offered no explanation and was not accompanied by any policy statement or official announcement (the following day, Trump refused to rule out force to annex Greenland, this was followed by statements from both the Danish PM and the Greenlandic Premier, which called on Trump to stop his “threats against a historically close ally”).
Miller is not a marginal figure.
She held senior communications roles during Donald Trump’s first administration, including as a spokesperson at the Department of Homeland Security and later as communications director for then vice president Mike Pence.
In Trump’s second administration she served as an advisor and spokesperson for the Elon Musk-led Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE).
Through those roles, and through her marriage to Stephen Miller—one of Trump’s closest advisers and a central figure in shaping immigration and national security policy—she remains closely embedded in Trump-aligned political networks.
In the years since leaving government, she has developed a high-profile presence in MAGA media and political circles, where her public statements are often read as aligned with, or reflective of, thinking inside Trump world rather than as purely personal commentary.
The post drew a direct response from the Danish ambassador to the United States, Jesper Møller Sørensen.
The official account of the Danish embassy in Washington reposted Miller’s image and stressed Denmark’s position, writing that “we expect full respect for the territorial integrity of the Kingdom of Denmark.”
The exchange unfolded on the same day as dramatic developments in Venezuela, where the United States launched a military attack and Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro was abducted and removed from the country.
Speaking to Fox News following the operation, Donald Trump framed the action in expansive terms.
“American dominance in the Western hemisphere will never be questioned again,” Trump said.
Greenland occupies a central position in U.S. Arctic strategy due to its location, military infrastructure and role in missile warning and space surveillance.
Over the past 12 months, Trump has repeatedly raised the idea of acquiring Greenland, a proposal that has at every turn been firmly rejected by both Greenlandic and Danish leaders.
The broader context
Miller’s post lands amid a series of developments that have sharply raised tensions between Washington and Copenhagen over Greenland.
Denmark recently summoned the U.S. ambassador after the Trump administration appointed a special envoy for Greenland, a move Danish officials said crossed a diplomatic line and treated the territory as an object of U.S. policy rather than a self-governing part of the Danish realm.
That episode was preceded by a striking reassessment from Danish intelligence, which for the first time formally recast the United States as a potential security challenge, citing pressure tactics and growing concern that Greenland has become a focal point of American power projection.
At the same time, U.S. engagement with Greenland has increasingly involved Trump-aligned figures operating both inside and outside government.
A Trump ally linked to the original push to purchase Greenland has quietly invested in Greenlandic companies, blurring the lines between private capital and geopolitical ambition.
More recently, the administration named a controversial Trump associate to lead the U.S. Arctic Research Commission, reinforcing perceptions in Copenhagen and Nuuk that Greenland policy is being shaped by a narrow political circle rather than through established diplomatic channels.
Against that backdrop, Miller’s image was seen by some observers not just as a joke or abstraction, but as another data point in a widening pattern that has unsettled Arctic allies and elevated concerns over U.S. intentions in the region.
Update: One day following Miller’s post, on January 4, President Donald Trump repeated his calls for the annexation of Greenland, even refusing to rule out force to achieve his goal.
- The Conversation : A 1930s movement wanted to merge the US, Canada and Greenland.
Here’s why it has modern resonances / In eyeing Greenland, Trump is echoing long-held American designs on the Arctic expanse - WorldCrunch : Donbas, Greenland, Mars: Times Of Peril When Men Draw New Maps / “It’s The Ice, Stupid” — Trump Wants Greenland For The Wrong Reasons
- The Strategist : Bookshelf: US’s Greenland policy faces crosswinds, bumpy landing
- Engelsberg Ideas : The deep history behind America’s Greenland gambit
- AP news : A look at the history of Greenland, from Viking raiders to Donald Trump / Trump says the US ‘needs’ Greenland for Arctic security. Here’s why
- History Extra : Who owns Greenland? Why the island's history is more complicated than you think
- National Geographic : The U.S. has tried to buy Greenland before. Here’s how those past attempts went. / The U.S. built a covert Cold War base under a Greenland glacier. Its secrets are now being revealed.
Tuesday, January 6, 2026
GNV ferry 'Fantastic' uner cyberattack proble amid remote hijack fears
From SecurityAffairs
French prosecutors probe a suspected cyberattack on GNV ferry Fantastic, raising concerns of a possible remote hijack.
French prosecutors are investigating a suspected cyberattack on the GNV ferry Fantastic, raising fears of a potential remote hijack.
The ferry Fantastic sails between Sète and North Africa, and French authorities are investigating a suspected attempt to compromise the ship’s IT systems.
Italian intelligence, prompted by GNV, alerted French authorities about two sailors, a Latvian and a Bulgarian, suspected of spying for a foreign power.
The Paris prosecutor’s cybercrime unit is investigating an organized attack on automated data systems, allegedly to serve a foreign power.
The Bulgarian citizen was released, while the Latvian was charged in Paris with conspiracy to serve a foreign power, attempted computer system intrusion, and possession of devices to interfere with navigation systems.
“The company has identified and neutralised an attempted intrusion with no consequences on effectively protected company systems,” GNV told to Il Sole 24Ore, “and has taken steps to report the incident to the competent authorities. The company has therefore cooperated and continues to cooperate in the course of the investigation. During the recent police operations, which took several hours, the ship assured the authorities of its full cooperation and confidentiality, at the same time guaranteeing constant updates and assistance to passengers”.
Media reports suggest the investigation is focusing on Russia amid ongoing hybrid warfare incidents in European and French waters.
The inquiry, prompted by GNV, examines whether the ferry Fantastic’s systems were exposed to malware capable of controlling the ship.
The vessel was temporarily sealed for safety checks and has since returned to sea.
The Italian police and Eurojust performed searches in Latvia and seized assets for analysis.
“The vessel was initially sealed to allow all necessary checks regarding the compromise of the IT system and to avoid any risk to the safety of those on board,” the Paris prosecutor’s office explained. “The seal was removed on Saturday once the technical assessments were completed. The ship returned to sea following decisions taken by the competent maritime administrative authorities.”
GNV reported that its defenses successfully blocked and contained an intrusion attempt without impact on company systems, promptly notifying authorities and cooperating fully during police operations while keeping passengers informed.
The case highlights three key trends: growing strategic focus on maritime infrastructure, the use of insiders or physical access in OT/IT systems, and public discourse swinging between alarm and reassurance.
It underscores the value of early detection, responsible disclosure, and cross-border cooperation (Italy–France–Latvia–Eurojust) in maritime cybersecurity.
“The computer systems that control ships are not, by default, connected to the internet. Very few onboard computers have permanent connections. The risk that a ship could be remotely controlled is near zero because it is extremely difficult to implement.” Maritime cybersecurity specialist Olivier Jacq told Le Parisien.
“There are about 200,000 ships in the world’s oceans, and none have been hijacked via cyber means, despite serious ongoing geopolitical conflicts.”
In other words, a Hollywood-style remote takeover is extremely unlikely; it is more realistic to consider espionage attempts, unauthorized access, or manipulation of data and processes.
If further technical details emerge – on the nature of the alleged trojan, the targeted systems, and whether this was reconnaissance, pre‑positioning or something more – the Fantastic investigation could become a key case study in how Europe handles suspected state‑linked cyber activity against maritime assets.