A wave of efficiency talk has arrived in Washington, epitomized by the Department of Government Efficiency now roaming the halls of the Pentagon. But as policymakers examine how government actually functions, it’s becoming clear that the goal shouldn’t merely be cost savings, but higher competence.
One glaring example stands ready for immediate action: the Pentagon’s sclerotic joint requirements process. In a new Hudson Institute report, “Required to Fail,” we outline the need to immediately put this process out of its misery.
For over two decades, the Defense Department has labored under a bureaucratic ritual known as JCIDS — the Joint Capabilities Integration and Development System. Created with noble intentions, this process has devolved into a crushing administrative burden that actively impedes America’s military modernization. Far from ensuring strategic alignment or joint warfighting capabilities, JCIDS has become a bureaucratic priesthood fixated on formatting, enthralled by committees, and divorced from tangible warfighting needs.
The numbers tell a damning story. It takes over two years just to get a military requirement approved through this system. During that time, technology evolves, threats advance, and opportunities evaporate. While China rapidly fields new capabilities, and commercial technology cycles span mere months, America’s military remains trapped in endless document reviews and formatting refinements.
Consider this absurdity: When engineers once discovered that the F-35’s combat radius fell short of its validated key performance requirement by just six nautical miles — about one percent — it triggered nearly a year of bureaucratic wrangling. Instead of acknowledging that 584 nautical miles might be perfectly adequate, or rethinking the entire approach, the system doubled down on its initial, arbitrary decree. Hours of senior leader time, including that of the Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, evaporated in the pursuit of percentage points that had no inherent strategic significance. This isn’t just inefficiency — it’s institutional madness.
The fundamental flaw lies in JCIDS’s delusion of perfect planning. The system imagines an immaculate cascade from high-level needs to engineering specifications, all knowable years in advance. But reality intrudes: Technical constraints, shifting threats, and budget realities collide with these neat theoretical cascades. When they do, instead of adapting, the system demands costly acrobatics to preserve the illusion of perfection.
But here’s the cruel irony: After climbing this bureaucratic mountain, these documents accomplish nothing. They don’t align money. They don’t identify program managers for urgent joint needs. They simply accumulate in an ever-expanding pile of validated requirements that don’t get published, don’t get culled, just accumulate.
An unprecedented wave of decorated senior military leaders has promised to fix this system. From General Cartwright’s blunt calls for elimination through Admiral Winnefeld’s streamlined forums, General Selva’s accelerated timelines, General Hyten’s software-era rhetoric, and Admiral Grady’s top-down pronouncements — each inherited the same unwieldy machine and promised to fix it. Each has been absorbed into its inertia.
Congress has finally lost patience. The latest defense bill mandates a clean-sheet redesign of military requirements. But tinkering won’t solve this. The entire apparatus needs to go.
Remarkably, this is relatively straightforward: One minor revision to Title 10, removing the legal requirement for document validation, coupled with an internal Defense Department memo scaling back the joint requirements oversight council, would suffice.
What the Joint Staff calls progress just indicts the system for its futility — broad capstone documents you can drive a truck through and that don’t track accountability, alongside a capability portfolio review model that dominates calendars but doesn’t move money. Over more than 30 years and twenty major revisions to the joint requirements system — calling it top-down and bottoms-up, changing document names and approval authorities — the Pentagon has failed to ever question whether the idea of rubber-stamping documents could lead to desired its outcomes.
The solution isn’t more paperwork — it’s understanding warfighting outcomes. Rather than prescribing solutions years in advance, the Pentagon should start with clear problem statements of warfighting need, then move to campaigns of experimentation where service systems and new prototypes can be linked together to see what solutions work best. Our recent report explores what this new approach might look like and how it could function. But to make things better, we don’t need to wait for a new system, we can start today.
This isn’t about making government smaller for its own sake. It’s about recognizing that sometimes less really is more. By removing this bureaucratic albatross, we could free up America’s brightest officers in joint roles to focus on actual warfighting innovation rather than debating section headers while our adversaries field new capabilities.
Abolishing JCIDS can be the first needed step in streamlining Pentagon processes — picking off the low hanging fruit in the monstrosity that is defense acquisition. If Congressional and Pentagon reformers can’t do what it takes to kill such a non-value-added process, they will have no chance in tackling more difficult choices.
Let’s give JCIDS the funeral it deserves. Our military’s future depends on it.
Read this article, co-authored with Bill Greenwalt, in Breaking Defense.