By Christopher Coates, February 23, 2026
Senior government and military leaders have described the need to improve Canadian Armed Forces (CAF) readiness as a key component of modernizing and rebuilding Canada’s military. But “readiness” may be a relic that will not be sufficient to generate the strategic autonomy that Canada needs, to ensure its sovereignty and defence in a dynamic, threatening world and genuinely challenging times.
The return of great power competition is not an abstract theory but an organizing principle of international politics.
Canadians are operating in an environment shaped by hybrid and grey-zone challenges – cyber operations, disinformation, coercive economics, and activities deliberately designed to stay below the threshold of armed conflict. They are experiencing economic disruption, fragile supply chains, and the weaponization of interdependence.
For countries like Canada – middle powers by any reasonable definition – these dynamics create a particular problem. Middle powers cannot opt out of global instability. But neither can they dominate it. What they can do is develop the ability to make things happen when it matters – diplomatically, economically, and yes, militarily. That requires serious defence capabilities. Not symbolic ones. Not aspirational ones. Real ones.
For decades, the Canadian Armed Forces have been, at best, under-prioritized, and at worst systematically neglected. The result has been a significant decline in readiness across much of the force — in personnel, in equipment, in training, and in sustainability.
This has brought us to the question all middle powers must face: Readiness is clearly part of the problem – but is readiness the solution?
To answer this question, it is important to understand what is meant by “readiness.” In the Canadian context, readiness is generally defined as the ability of military forces to deploy, fight, and sustain operations at a given level of preparedness and within a specified timeframe. It is usually expressed in terms of:
- Personnel availability
- Equipment serviceability
- Training completion
- Command and control readiness
- Sustainment capacity
Readiness matters because it is supposed to tell political leaders – and allies – a simple thing: If Canada commits forces, will they actually be ready to do something meaningful?
Readiness is important for several reasons. First, it is the bridge between capability on paper and capability in reality. A fleet, a brigade, or a squadron that exists only in theory does not deter anyone. Second, readiness underpins credibility – with allies, with partners, and with adversaries. Third, readiness determines choice. A government with ready forces has options. A government without them does not.
But it’s just as important to be clear about what readiness is not. Readiness is not:
- A measure of overall military excellence
- A proxy for modernization
- A guarantee of success
- A substitute for strategy
And perhaps most importantly, readiness is not a moral virtue. High readiness does not automatically mean good policy – and low readiness does not always mean poor leadership. It is a management tool. And like all management tools, it has limits.
Let’s ground this a bit in experience. In Special Operations Aviation, readiness meant something very specific. High-readiness forces were expected to respond within hours – sometimes less. Personnel were trained to a set of demanding missions. Equipment was prioritized ruthlessly. For many missions, sustainment assumptions were relatively short-term and deliberate. In the NORAD context, defending the continent, readiness is measured in minutes, not days or weeks. Response timelines are unforgiving and systems are designed around immediacy and reliability.
But in NORAD like elsewhere, readiness is not uniform. There are variations in response time, mission duration, and sustainability. Some forces are designed to react instantly but cannot be sustained. Others take longer to generate but can operate for longer periods. These differences matter – and are frequently overlooked in broad discussions of CAF readiness.
When we zoom out to the CAF as a whole, the picture becomes far more complicated. Different environments – land, air, maritime, cyber – require different readiness models. The Canadian Army uses a Managed Readiness Plan, cycling units through phases of preparation, availability, and recovery, balancing training and operational commitments. The Royal Canadian Navy and the Royal Canadian Air Force each use their own readiness constructs, often tied closely to platform availability, while delivering capability on a routine basis. NATO defines readiness in terms of force generation commitments, timelines, and interoperability standards.
So, when we say, “the CAF is not ready,” the obvious follow-up question is: not ready for what, exactly?
This leads to a crucial distinction. In an era of great power rivalry, deterrence matters more than defence. Deterrence is about shaping an adversary’s decisions before conflict begins. Defence is about responding once it has failed.
Readiness plays a central role in deterrence – but not in a simple way. High readiness can deter. But so can visible modernization, credible alliances, and clear political resolve. Conversely, readiness that exists only within narrow or outdated planning assumptions may do very little to deter contemporary threats.
This brings us to measurement. How do we determine appropriate levels of readiness? Traditionally, readiness targets are derived from planning scenarios and force employment assumptions – many of which were developed in very different strategic circumstances. Are those targets still appropriate in an era defined by:
- Persistent competition
- Grey-zone conflict
- Rapid technological change
- Unpredictable escalation pathways
And if those targets are flawed, what does it mean to manage toward them?
This is the uncomfortable question. Is readiness the right metric to assess the rebuilding and modernization of the CAF? Or has readiness, in some cases, served to camouflage deeper problems – aging platforms, hollowed-out enablers, and structural personnel shortages? Is readiness a relic of a minimalist CAF, optimized for small contributions rather than strategic effect? Do readiness assumptions for an “expeditionary force,” designed to support NATO or coalition operations abroad apply as well to a force focused on continental defences? And as the CAF seeks to expand and modernize, should readiness remain the primary yardstick?
There may be alternatives – or at least complements – to readiness as a core measure. These might include:
- Capacity growth
- Sustainability and depth
- Mobilization potential
- Industrial resilience
- Adaptability to hybrid threats
None of these fit neatly into traditional readiness reporting — but all matter deeply in contemporary security competition.
So where does this leave us? Perhaps the answer is not to abandon readiness – but to demystify it. The benefit is to understand that readiness is flawed, context-dependent, and shaped by legacy systems – and then manage it accordingly. Not to treat readiness as gospel. Not to chase readiness numbers at the expense of long-term transformation. But to measure readiness honestly, while pursuing broader objectives of modernization, growth, and strategic relevance.
Canada needs to rebuild and modernize the Canadian Armed Forces. This will be the most significant military transformation in generations. Some degree of objectivity is necessary – and readiness provides part of that. But readiness is both the problem and a partial solution. It is a tool. Not a strategy. Not a vision. Not an end state.
The challenge for Canadian defence policy is not simply to ask whether the CAF is ready – but ready for what, ready for whom, and ready for how long. And that, ultimately, is a far more important question than any readiness report can answer.
Christopher Coates is the director of the Foreign Policy, National Defence, and National Security program at the Macdonald-Laurier Institute, and a retired RCAF Lieutenant-General. The text is based on remarks delivered in support of the University of Ottawa’s 2026 Public Policy Case Competition.
