It’s Time to Learn How to Blow Things Up Again

Western governments’ rapidly growing defense spending sounds like a straightforward equation: More spending equals more weapons. But skilled weapons workers are in short supply, especially explosives experts, and without a sufficiently big bang behind them, even the most sophisticated weaponry is pointless. But blowing things up is not learned in a quick crash course. We need more explosives professors.

NATO member states’ defense spending is on an extraordinary growth spurt. This year, Poland, for example, is spending 4.1 percent of its GDP on defense, up from 2 percent five years ago. Sweden, too, has doubled its defense spending. Germany, of course, is spending not just its regular defense budget but its special 100 billion euro fund introduced in response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. There’s a ton of military equipment being ordered—and not nearly enough people with the skills to make it, producing massive backlogs at defense manufacturers. When it comes to the level of training needed to do a job, think tankers or bankers can’t hold a candle to submarine welders.

Amid the biggest problems: We don’t have enough people who know how to make things go boom. “In Sweden, we used to have a big explosives sector, both civilian and military—for example [explosives manufacturer] Nitro Nobel and [weapons-maker] Bofors,” Bo Janzon said. “People would graduate from university, and the companies would train people themselves, both at the manual worker level and at the academic level. But these days, the company-led explosives training barely exists anymore, nor do university courses in it.”

Janzon knows because he’s an explosives scientist himself. Until he retired in 2007, he spent four decades enhancing and studying explosives of all shapes and sizes at the Swedish Defence Research Agency, a career that included weapons and underwater effects, shaped charges, kinetic energy penetrators, advanced armors, land and underwater mine detection and clearance, humanitarian demining, IED and explosive detection and neutralization, wound ballistics, forensic ballistics, gunshot trauma, fragmentation warheads and effects, penetration mechanics, numerical continuum dynamic modeling, and more.

In the years immediately thereafter, he remained convinced that his field had a future. “I and others launched an explosives engineering course at KTH [the KTH Royal Institute of Technology in Stockholm] in the 1990s, but it was shelved due to lack of student interest.” In the 1990s, bomb-making was as unfashionable a career choice as could possibly be.

Then Janzon and other explosives gurus retired, and they did so not with a bang but with a whimper. Their skills were just not in demand anymore. In Sweden, the explosives and specialty chemicals empire that dynamite inventor Alfred Nobel had built was merged into foreign firms and faded, both in size and in public awareness. Western nations even outsourced the production of gunpowder to China.

Today, though, explosives expertise is in massive demand again because without that kick behind it all, the sophisticated military equipment being made is impotent. This spring, Ukraine’s ammunition shortage was so acute that soldiers often couldn’t counter Russian attacks. Kyiv’s Western friends are not in a position to resupply it at the same rate that Russia resupplies its troops. The United States and Europe only produce about 1.2 million pieces of ammunition per year, while Russia produces some 3 million, CNN reported in March.

This alarming state of affairs has prompted the Czech Republic to scour the world for existing ammo among non-Western countries that use the same Soviet-model equipment as Ukraine. The goal is to secure 800,000 such artillery shells. That wouldn’t help the West’s ammo production, though, and Ukraine would of course need more rounds even after receiving the 800,000 shells (if they can be procured).

“Today, people’s interest in work in the defense industry has increased significantly, but there is a lack of specialists and engineers in specialized areas, such as explosives development,” said Matthias Wachter, who leads the Department for International Cooperation, Security Policy, Raw Materials, and Space at the Federation of German Industries.

We need more explosives engineers, and that means more explosives professors. To be sure, mining companies still train explosives experts, and a few universities—such as Britain’s military-linked Cranfield—offer master’s degrees in explosives engineering. So, too, do state universities in mining-heavy U.S. states. But even though a few ordnance experts join the labor market each year, and even though some companies have managed to entice retired explosives engineers back to their factories, there aren’t enough members of this rarefied profession to satisfy the needs of the booming defense industry.

The problem will linger for years even if governments act now because explosives expertise can’t be gained on the quick. To even qualify for an academic program that can lead to a job in industry or an academic career, applicants must typically have a degree in civil engineering, chemistry, or physics. A few universities and vocational colleges also run rudimentary courses for technicians. Though the courses themselves are usually relatively short, a year or so, given the nature of explosives they naturally have to be followed by lengthy supervised training in the workplace.

There’s no blasting a shortcut to expertise. “The problem is just that explosives are very dangerous,” Janzon said. “You have to produce extremely high pressure, and the materials involved are enormously destructive. And explosives are also very difficult and very different from anything else. That’s why you need trained people.” Janzon is proud to still be in possession of all 10 of his fingers.

Explosives are no business for amateurs or the faint-hearted. Although it’s a good thing that a few retired explosives engineers here and there are still willing to do a stint in industry, these Cold War remnants won’t be able to single-handedly fill the gaps. Their rare younger colleagues need to train the next generation. That means universities—and most especially technical universities and colleges—need to start offering explosives degrees. Industry is good at providing practical training and product development, but it doesn’t teach the fundamentals, nor does it conduct much basic research.

But seats of higher learning can’t build the curriculum and model the workforce needed on their own. On the contrary, explosives engineering is the sort of specialization that requires government steering. If governments, industry, and academia work together to identify the explosives expertise needed and project the size of the future explosives workforce, we can hope for a sustainable future, explosives-wise.

Until then, our best hope is silver-haired scientists whose expertise was considered passé just a few years ago. But even in Sweden, where the Nobel empire created a veritable cadre of explosives experts, there are few left who are willing and able to return to the field or the lecture pulpit. These days, Janzon is often asked to teach and even to help out in industry. Being well into his 80s, he doesn’t feel he has the energy for it.