Donald Trump’s plan to build a new generation of “fantastic battleships” is a dream that will never become reality. It springs from nostalgia and megalomania, not from realism and mature deliberation. When he promises warships that will be “a hundred times more powerful than today’s,” he enters a rhetorical universe in which fantastical numbers replace sober analysis.
Five days after Trump unveiled the plan, military experts are lining up to dismiss it outright.
“There is no reason to discuss this, because these ships will never be launched,” says senior adviser Mark Cancian at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington, D.C. His devastating verdict is echoed by many others.
According to Trump, the new battleships—assembled in a “Golden Fleet” and equipped with hypersonic missiles, railguns, and powerful laser weapons—are to become the very symbol of American power. They are described as invulnerable floating fortresses meant to tame China’s growing navy. The goal is to build ten ships initially and twenty to twenty-five in a later phase.
The problem, experts say, is that the battleship as a concept was abandoned more than seventy years ago. After the Second World War, it became clear that heavy surface vessels without their own air power were vulnerable, costly, and inflexible. Aircraft carriers, submarines, and later precision-guided missiles rendered the battleship strategically irrelevant. When the U.S. Navy retired its last Iowa-class ships in the 1990s, it was the result of sober military judgment.
What is now being presented as a technological breakthrough also relies on systems that are either still experimental or have already proven problematic. Railguns are a prime example.
A railgun is an electromagnetic weapon that fires a projectile using electricity and a magnetic field, rather than gunpowder or explosives. The weapon consists of two parallel metal rails; when a powerful electrical pulse is sent through the rails and the projectile between them, a magnetic field is generated that propels it forward at extreme speed. The projectile is typically a solid metal slug, often made of tungsten, without an explosive charge; the destructive effect derives solely from the immense kinetic energy produced by its high velocity and mass.
Interest in railguns has been strong because, in theory, they can offer very long range, high precision, and a lower cost per shot than missiles, while eliminating the need for explosives on board.
In practice, however, the technology has proved troublesome. Each shot requires enormous amounts of electrical energy delivered in a very short time, placing extreme demands on power generation and storage. At the same time, the rails are subjected to intense heat and wear, causing them to degrade rapidly and require frequent replacement. Cooling and maintenance pose major challenges as well, and the system is difficult to deploy on mobile platforms such as ships, Mark Cancian argues.
High-energy lasers have indeed found limited applications in air and missile defense, but they offer no revolutionary increase in naval combat power. Concentrating such systems on a gigantic battleship presupposes a level of technology that does not exist today—and is unlikely to be available within any realistic time frame.
Trump speaks of a new golden age for American shipbuilding, but the reality of the U.S. military-industrial base points in the opposite direction. American shipyards are already stretched to the breaking point by delays, cost overruns, and a shortage of skilled labor. Existing programs for aircraft carriers and destroyers are struggling to meet schedules and budgets. Adding an extremely ambitious battleship program on top of this, without a clear doctrine and broad professional military support, looks more like political fantasy than serious defense planning, adds retired Rear Admiral Mark Montgomery.
The contrast with China could hardly be greater. While Trump launches grandiose visions, the Chinese are building their fleet step by step. The country already has three aircraft carriers in service and, according to U.S. defense reports, plans to build more over the coming decade. The objective is not spectacular individual platforms, but an integrated navy of carriers, escort vessels, submarines, and aircraft capable of operating together.
This effort is methodical and closely tied to China’s industrial capacity. It does not generate headlines about being “a hundred times more powerful,” but it delivers something far more important: real operational capability.
Russia’s role further exposes how detached Trump’s battleship dream is from today’s realities. Russia has effectively abandoned the ambition of being a global naval power built around large surface fleets. Its only aircraft carrier, Admiral Kuznetsov, has spent more time in dry dock than at sea over the past decade, largely due to accidents, fires, and endless modernization attempts. Much suggests the ship will never return to full operational service.
Instead, Russia has opted for a more sober strategy based on submarines, long-range missiles, and coastal defense systems. It is cheaper, harder to counter, and better suited to the country’s economic and industrial constraints, many argue.
In this landscape, Trump’s battleships stand as an anachronistic symbol. Large, highly visible, and extremely expensive ships are increasingly military targets. Such vessels can be detected by satellites, drones, and radar, and struck by long-range precision missiles. Thick steel armor offers little protection against hypersonic weapons or heavy anti-ship missiles.
“Massive battleships costing five billion dollars are the last thing we need,” Montgomery states.
Trump’s vision is therefore a work of fantasy, he continues. It appeals to the president’s megalomania and the notion that the United States must be the biggest and the best, but it is, above all, an echo from a bygone era.
For now, it is some consolation that the ships of the new “Trump Class” exist only on the drawing board. Construction could begin no earlier than the 2030s, with an estimated build time of five to seven years. Testing, sea trials, and certification would then follow, potentially taking up to two years.
By then, Donald Trump would be well into his nineties.
If he is still alive.
