China's Air Force: Why It's Built for Deterrence, Not War

Watch the Episode

Video originally published on November 24, 2025.

The People's Liberation Army Air Force commands over three thousand combat aircraft and ranks second globally only to the United States in raw numbers. Yet beneath this impressive facade lies a fundamental strategic paradox: China's air force appears deliberately engineered not to win wars, but to prevent them through calculated ambiguity. The force's composition—heavy on long-range stealth fighters, light on logistics and support—reveals a doctrine misaligned with Taiwan invasion scenarios but perfectly calibrated for incremental territorial expansion in the South China Sea. Understanding this distinction reshapes how strategists assess China's true military intentions and the real risks facing the Indo-Pacific.

Key Takeaways

China's PLAAF is designed as a deterrent tool leveraging strategic ambiguity, not as a warfighting force capable of sustaining Taiwan invasion or extended operations.
The force's composition—heavy on long-range stealth fighters, light on logistics—reveals fundamental mismatch with Taiwan invasion requirements but perfect alignment with incremental territorial expansion strategy.
With only 25 air-to-air refuelers supporting 3,000+ combat aircraft, the PLAAF cannot sustain high-tempo operations beyond its immediate periphery, limiting it to deterrent posture.
China's pilots lack any combat experience since 1979, yet this weakness matters less for deterrence than for actual warfighting, as adversaries cannot be certain of performance under pressure.
The J-20 stealth fighter remains unproven with engine reliability issues, manufacturing defects, and undersized weapons bays, yet maintains deterrent value through technological ambiguity.
Entrenched corruption and intentional bureaucratic inefficiency coup-proof China's military but undermine operational effectiveness—a trade-off acceptable for deterrence but catastrophic for sustained warfare.

The Illusion of Numerical Superiority: Counting Aircraft vs. Combat Effectiveness

On paper, the PLAAF fields a staggering array: roughly three hundred Chengdu J-20 stealth fighters, approximately one thousand Su-27-derived jets including the J-11, J-15, J-16, and J-35 variants, over six hundred J-10 multirole fighters, more than two hundred H-6 strategic bombers, and comparable numbers of attack helicopters and unmanned drones. The total exceeds three thousand fixed-wing and rotary aircraft, with production lines churning out newer types continuously. However, these numbers obscure a stark infrastructure deficit. The force operates with only about twenty-five air-to-air refuelers for the entire fleet—a ratio of roughly 120 combat aircraft per tanker, compared with the United States' four-to-one ratio. Early-warning and control assets are equally scarce: fewer than half a dozen KJ-2000 AEW&C aircraft and a single prototype KJ-3000 provide battlefield situational awareness for thousands of fighters. Strategic airlift suffers similarly, with just seventy Il-76 and Y-20 heavy-lift aircraft versus America's two hundred plus. Without sufficient refueling, airborne surveillance, and logistical lift, the PLAAF cannot sustain prolonged operations or project power beyond its immediate periphery, regardless of how many combat jets sit on the tarmac.

Deterrence vs. Warfighting: China's Strategic Calculus

The critical question underlying China's air force is not whether it can win wars, but whether it is designed to prevent them. Classical deterrence relies on the credible threat of unacceptable damage—the nuclear weapon that need never be fired to change adversary behavior. China's air force functions similarly, but at a conventional level. Rather than comparing China's force to a fully loaded arsenal, consider the bank robber reaching into a bag with theatrical menace. The teller complies not because the gun is certainly loaded, but because the ninety-percent uncertainty is too costly to test. China's air force operates on this principle: adversaries must ask whether challenging China's interests is worth the risk, even if they suspect the force's actual capabilities fall short of its advertised prowess. This deterrent posture explains why Beijing has declined numerous opportunities for combat experience since 1979. If China intended to invade Taiwan or conduct sustained military operations, it would have engaged in lower-stakes interventions in Myanmar, the Thailand-Cambodia border, or Ukraine to season its pilots and test equipment. Instead, Beijing has consistently chosen restraint, suggesting that deterrence through ambiguity—not warfighting capability—drives force development. The air force's emphasis on advanced stealth fighters, long-range bombers, and cutting-edge prototypes serves deterrent psychology: each new J-20 variant, each leaked sixth-generation prototype, each strategic bomber upgrade reinforces the question in adversaries' minds: Is this confrontation worth the risk? This calculus allows China to secure incremental gains—control over the Spratly Islands, absorption of Hong Kong, Belt and Road dominance—without triggering the full-scale war that would expose the force's operational limitations.

Force Design Mismatch: Why China's Arsenal Doesn't Fit Taiwan

China's force composition reveals a fundamental disconnect between its advertised strategic objective and its actual operational design. If Beijing genuinely intended to invade Taiwan, its air force would look radically different. A Taiwan invasion requires sustained, high-tempo operations across a narrow 180-kilometer strait against entrenched air defenses, established fighter squadrons, and the imminent arrival of American reinforcements from Okinawa. Such an operation demands massive logistical support, abundant air-to-air refueling, robust electronic warfare assets, and aircraft optimized for close air support and air defense suppression. Instead, China has built an air force optimized for long-range, high-tech air superiority missions against distant adversaries. The J-20, China's flagship platform, excels at air-to-air combat and long-range interception but carries minimal internal payload—it cannot even carry bombs in its weapons bay, severely limiting its effectiveness in clearing enemy air defenses. The H-6 bomber fleet, based on a 1950s Soviet airframe, has a modest fifteen-ton payload compared to the B-52's capacity, and lacks stealth protection. China's most advanced aircraft are designed for operations thousands of kilometers away, not for the close-quarters, sustained combat a Taiwan invasion would require. The shortage of air-to-air refuelers compounds this mismatch. In a Taiwan scenario, China would need to surge hundreds of fighters across the strait repeatedly, maintaining continuous air superiority while defending against counterattacks. With only twenty-five refuelers supporting three thousand combat aircraft, China cannot sustain the high-tempo operations necessary for invasion. A first wave of perhaps one hundred J-20s would have to neutralize over 250 Taiwanese fighters, dozens of air defense batteries, and hundreds of missile launchers before American F-35s and F-22s arrive from Kadena. Assuming anything less than perfect efficiency, the operation becomes untenable. This force design mismatch is not accidental. It reflects a strategic choice: China has optimized its air force for deterrence and incremental expansion, not for the massive, sustained combat operations that Taiwan invasion would demand.

Pilot Shortages and Training Deficits: The Human Factor

China's airmen have never fought a war. The last time the People's Republic engaged in conflict requiring air support was the 1979 Sino-Vietnamese War, a brief border clash in which the PLAAF provided no combat aircraft. None of the current generation of pilots has flown an air-to-ground strike or air-to-air engagement in actual combat. Training has been confined to digital simulators, large-scale exercises, and intensive classroom instruction—a limitation the official PLA newspaper has labeled 'peace disease,' acknowledging the danger of an entire air force lacking real-world experience. The consequence is a force reliant on inexperienced crews without seasoned wingmen to mentor them. In high-speed dogfights, novice pilots have no veteran to compensate for split-second miscalculations, and the margin for error is virtually nonexistent. By contrast, United States pilots have accumulated combat sorties in Iraq, Afghanistan, and ongoing operations, providing a reservoir of practical knowledge unavailable to China. If the PLAAF's first large-scale test comes in a Taiwan contingency, its pilots will confront far more seasoned adversaries—a mismatch that could erode effectiveness at the moment decisive air superiority is needed. However, this inexperience matters far less for deterrence than for actual warfighting. A deterrent force need not prove its capability in combat; it need only maintain sufficient ambiguity about that capability. China's pilots' lack of experience becomes a liability only if China actually fights. For deterrence purposes, the question remains: Is the risk worth it? Adversaries cannot be certain that inexperienced pilots will perform poorly under pressure, and that uncertainty itself becomes a deterrent.

Unproven Stealth and Engine Failures: Technology Hype vs. Field Reality

The PLAAF's headline platforms are hampered by developmental shortcomings that undermine their advertised capabilities. The J-20's intended powerplant, the WS-15 engine, remains in testing more than two decades after initial bench runs, plagued by overheating and excessive heat signatures that betray stealth. The interim WS-10 engine is known to overheat, stall intermittently, and lack sustained supersonic capability without afterburner. These engine issues directly curtail range, combat endurance, and high-speed intercept ability. The J-20's stealth performance is contested. Its canards and winglets create radar returns that reduce low-observable characteristics, especially from side and rear aspects. Manufacturing gaps leave panel seams that increase radar cross-section, and the internal weapons bay is too small to carry meaningful payload while remaining concealed. Similar doubts surround the emerging J-35, which mirrors the F-35 in appearance but has yet to prove carrier-based operational reliability. The experimental J-36 suffers from an underpowered triple-engine layout, suggesting China's push for cutting-edge designs may outpace its ability to field mature systems. The H-6 fleet, based on a 1950s Soviet airframe, has only about 120 combat-ready variants. Their fifteen-ton payload is modest compared to the B-52's capacity, and they lack stealth, making them vulnerable without robust fighter escort. The newly hinted H-20 bomber remains untested, its operational parameters unknown. Across the board, China's most advanced aircraft have never fired missiles or dropped bombs in combat, leaving a critical gap between advertised and proven performance. Yet for deterrence purposes, this gap is precisely the point. Adversaries cannot definitively assess whether the J-20 is a formidable fifth-generation fighter or a compromised platform. They cannot know whether the H-20 represents a genuine strategic capability or vaporware. This uncertainty—maintained through selective disclosure, prototype unveilings, and strategic ambiguity—serves deterrent psychology far more effectively than proven capability would.

Organizational Inefficiencies and Corruption: The Bureaucratic Rot

Beyond hardware and pilots, the PLAAF is hamstrung by bloated bureaucracy and entrenched corruption. High-level leadership turnover has been frequent: former PLAAF commander Ding Laihang was removed after four years and later swept up in anti-corruption purges, while current commander Chang Dingqiu inherited a force still reeling from investigations implicating senior officials in graft involving procurement contracts and component theft. The PLA's promotion system favors political loyalty over merit, and decision-making often requires approval from party commissars lacking operational expertise. This slows the rapid coordination required for joint air-sea-land operations. Logistical support suffers similarly, with only about seventy strategic airlifters and a scant fleet of air-to-air refuelers. The limited number of AEW&C platforms—fewer than six KJ-2000s and a single KJ-3000 prototype—means losing even one aircraft could cripple battlefield awareness. Electronic warfare assets are similarly under-resourced, relying on a handful of propeller-driven platforms lacking the survivability of modern jet-based jammers. In contested environments, these shortfalls force Chinese planners to operate with fragmented situational awareness, reducing offensive strike and defensive patrol effectiveness. Corruption extends beyond simple graft. China's ruling elite have deliberately coup-proofed the military by promoting loyalty over merit, creating intentionally bureaucratic and inefficient structures, and concentrating command authority in a small number of trusted commanders. This system prevents military challenges to political leadership but comes at the expense of battlefield effectiveness. Beijing has declined promoting its best and brightest in favor of alternatives who won't rock the boat. Military commanders must run decisions through political commissars often lacking military experience. In peacetime, commanders have waited for committee approval to perform fundamental tasks. Military exercises are designed to deliver grandiosity for party elites rather than hone advanced troop skills. China cannot flip a switch in wartime and expect this bureaucratic inefficiency to disappear. For an air force requiring real-time coordination, efficient decision-making, and tactical prowess, this internal corruption may prove more damaging than hardware deficiencies. Yet again, for deterrence, this weakness is less critical. Deterrence relies on threat perception, not operational efficiency. An adversary cannot know whether China's bureaucratic system would paralyze decision-making in crisis or whether political commissars would defer to military judgment under fire. This uncertainty reinforces deterrent ambiguity.

The Paper Tiger Paradox: Deterrence Through Calculated Ambiguity

Combine the PLAAF's lack of combat experience, mismatched force design, unproven technology, and organizational corruption, and the picture appears grim for actual warfighting. Yet this assessment assumes China intends to fight. If instead China's air force is designed as a deterrent—a tool to convince adversaries that challenging Chinese interests carries unacceptable risk—then these apparent weaknesses become strategic assets. A deterrent force need not be capable of winning wars; it need only maintain sufficient ambiguity about its capabilities to make adversaries hesitant. China's strategy appears to be exactly this: build an air force impressive enough to raise questions, leak advanced prototypes regularly, invest heavily in research and development, and let adversaries wonder whether the risk is worth it. The bank robber analogy captures this perfectly. The robber doesn't need a loaded gun; the teller's uncertainty about what's in the bag is sufficient. Similarly, China doesn't need a fully functional air force capable of invading Taiwan; it needs adversaries to believe it might have one. Each new J-20 variant, each sixth-generation prototype, each strategic bomber upgrade reinforces the question: Is this confrontation worth the risk? This deterrent posture explains China's behavior since 1979. Beijing has declined numerous opportunities for combat experience—interventions in Myanmar, the Thailand-Cambodia border, Ukraine, India-Pakistan conflicts, and Thai-Cambodian disputes. If China intended to fight, it would season its pilots and test equipment in lower-stakes environments. Instead, it maintains strategic restraint, suggesting deterrence through ambiguity drives force development. The PLAAF's composition—heavy on advanced fighters, light on logistics—makes sense only as a deterrent. It cannot sustain Taiwan invasion but can credibly threaten enough damage to make such invasion seem not worth the cost. It cannot project power globally but can convince regional adversaries that challenging Chinese interests carries unacceptable risk. This is the paper tiger paradox: a force that appears formidable but may be fundamentally broken, yet remains effective precisely because adversaries cannot be certain of its actual capabilities.

Incremental Expansion Without War: The Real Strategic Objective

Understanding China's air force as a deterrent tool rather than a warfighting instrument reveals its true strategic objective: securing incremental territorial and geopolitical gains without triggering full-scale conflict. China's recent behavior supports this interpretation. Beijing has progressively absorbed Hong Kong, built artificial islands in the South China Sea, expanded the Belt and Road Initiative globally, and deepened its alliance with Pakistan—all without military confrontation. These gains are significant but not so grave that adversaries have deemed them worth military response. China's air force enables this strategy by raising the cost of resistance. If China were to unilaterally seize the entirety of the Spratly Islands, disputed by the Philippines, that would be a major international incident—but probably not worth a war. If China were to annex other small, unpopulated islands, or even populated islands, is that grave enough for China's adversaries to fight? The answer, under current circumstances, is likely no. The United States might still fight to protect Taiwan, and Japan, South Korea, or Australia might defend their own sovereignty or that of close allies. But many strategic flashpoints—rare earth mine control in Myanmar, Hong Kong's absorption, Belt and Road dominance, South China Sea island-building—are not significant enough to trigger military response. China's air force, through the threat it represents, expands this zone of acceptable losses. By maintaining ambiguity about its capabilities and demonstrating willingness to invest in advanced platforms, China convinces adversaries that the cost of resistance exceeds the benefit of confrontation. This strategy allows China to achieve its geopolitical objectives through military deterrence rather than military action. The air force's apparent brokenness becomes irrelevant; what matters is that adversaries cannot be certain it is broken. As long as that uncertainty persists, China can continue expanding its influence incrementally, using the threat of its air force to convince adversaries that backing down is the rational choice. This is the true strategic value of the PLAAF: not as a tool for winning wars, but as a tool for preventing them—and in preventing them, securing Chinese interests without the costs of actual conflict.

Related Coverage

FAQ

Why does China's air force appear designed for deterrence rather than actual warfighting?

China's force composition—optimized for long-range air superiority with minimal logistics support—cannot sustain the high-tempo, close-quarters operations required for Taiwan invasion. Instead, it maintains strategic ambiguity about capabilities, allowing China to convince adversaries that challenging its interests carries unacceptable risk. This deterrent posture explains why Beijing has declined numerous opportunities since 1979 to gain combat experience in lower-stakes conflicts, suggesting deterrence through ambiguity rather than proven warfighting capability drives force development.

How does China's shortage of air-to-air refuelers undermine Taiwan invasion capability?

With only 25 refuelers supporting over 3,000 combat aircraft—a 120-to-1 ratio versus America's 4-to-1 ratio—China cannot sustain continuous air operations across the Taiwan Strait. A first wave of perhaps 100 J-20s would need to neutralize 250+ Taiwanese fighters, dozens of air defense batteries, and hundreds of missile launchers before American reinforcements arrive, all while unable to remain airborne for extended periods. This logistical deficit makes Taiwan invasion operationally infeasible but does not diminish deterrent value.

Why hasn't China used military interventions to gain combat experience for its pilots?

Since 1979, China has declined opportunities to intervene in Myanmar, the Thailand-Cambodia border, Ukraine, India-Pakistan conflicts, and other regional disputes. If China intended to fight wars, it would season pilots and test equipment in lower-stakes environments. Instead, strategic restraint suggests China prioritizes deterrence through ambiguity over proven warfighting capability, allowing it to maintain uncertainty about actual operational effectiveness.

How does the J-20's engine problem affect its deterrent value?

The WS-15 engine remains in testing after two decades, plagued by overheating and excessive heat signatures that compromise stealth. The interim WS-10 engine frequently overheats and stalls. These deficiencies severely limit actual combat capability, yet for deterrence purposes, adversaries cannot be certain whether the J-20 is a formidable fifth-generation fighter or a compromised platform. This uncertainty—maintained through selective disclosure and strategic ambiguity—serves deterrent psychology more effectively than proven capability would.

What is the 'bank robber analogy' and how does it explain China's strategy?

The analogy describes a robber threatening a bank teller while reaching into a bag without revealing its contents. The teller complies not because the gun is certainly loaded, but because 90-percent uncertainty is too costly to test. Similarly, China's air force operates on deterrent principle: adversaries must ask whether challenging China's interests is worth the risk, even if they suspect actual capabilities fall short of advertised prowess. This uncertainty allows China to secure incremental gains—Spratly Islands, Hong Kong, Belt and Road dominance—without triggering full-scale war.

How does China's force design mismatch with Taiwan invasion reveal deterrent intent?

A genuine Taiwan invasion force would prioritize close air support, air defense suppression, and sustained logistical operations. Instead, China has optimized for long-range air superiority against distant adversaries. The J-20 cannot carry bombs internally; the H-6 bomber has minimal payload; support aircraft are scarce. This mismatch is not accidental but reflects strategic choice: China has built a force optimized for deterrence and incremental expansion, not for the massive sustained combat Taiwan invasion would require. The force's apparent brokenness becomes irrelevant if its purpose is preventing war, not winning it.

What strategic gains has China achieved through air force deterrence without military conflict?

Since 1979, China has progressively absorbed Hong Kong, built artificial islands in the South China Sea, expanded the Belt and Road Initiative globally, and deepened its alliance with Pakistan—all without military confrontation. These gains are significant but not grave enough for adversaries to deem military response justified. China's air force, through the threat it represents and the ambiguity it maintains about actual capabilities, expands the zone of acceptable losses, allowing China to achieve geopolitical objectives through deterrence rather than military action.

Sources

About the Author

Jackson Reed

Jackson Reed creates and presents analysis focused on military doctrine, strategic competition, and conflict dynamics.

About the Team →