The Future of Defense Innovation

Dave “Brew” Brewer wanted to be a fighter pilot. When he joined the US Air Force, his request was simple: get him as close to the aircraft as possible. He began as an enlisted aircraft maintainer, later became a pilot, and moved into intelligence after a training injury. Nearly three decades of service gave him plenty of opportunities to see how organizations make decisions under pressure.

His advice to leaders exploring unfamiliar technology is disarmingly straightforward: explain what you want it to accomplish. Calling something artificial intelligence, innovation or a space initiative does not establish its value.

In this conversation with Dr. Christian Mühlroth, Brewer connects that discipline to space strategy, R&D and the way leaders use people's strengths. He also offers a candid assessment of a less comfortable question: what happens when a meaningful career consumes more of your life than it should?

Begin with the outcome, even when the problem is unfamiliar

Brewer traces a turning point in his thinking to a deployment in Iraq. Faced with restrictive rules of engagement, he had to find a different way to achieve an operational objective. He describes developing an approach around the intended result rather than simply repeating established practice.

The circumstances were specific to military operations. The habit of mind has broader relevance: constraints can force a team to reconsider its methods without abandoning its purpose.

That is also how Brewer approaches conversations about AI. He asks leaders what he calls the “fitness function”: in his explanation, the purpose an algorithm is supposed to serve. The point is to define success clearly enough to assess whether the proposed technology can deliver it.

He is not asking every executive to become an AI engineer. He is asking them to understand the application. Buying a software suite normally starts with an expectation of what it should do. AI deserves at least the same clarity.

Innovation needs fewer labels and more decisions

Brewer has become wary of the word innovation itself. He says he sometimes avoids using it in meetings because the label can obscure the work rather than explain it.

His complaint is familiar to anyone who has sat through a technology presentation without hearing a clear problem statement. A project can acquire fashionable terminology while leaving its intended outcome vague. Mühlroth presses the distinction: what will the effort produce, and what will become better as a result?

For an R&D team, the useful question is whether the technology changes a capability that matters. That makes it possible to discuss trade-offs, define a test and decide what evidence would justify further investment.

Brewer applies the same logic to strategy. A vision needs goals, actions and milestones. Performance indicators then need real data and feedback from the people the work is meant to help. The team must be willing to iterate when results do not match the intention.

You can work in space without launching a rocket

At the time of the conversation, Brewer describes developing a space operations strategy for the Michigan National Guard. Part of the work involved integrating the space domain into research, operations and the Northern Strike training exercise.

He makes a useful distinction between consuming space services and actively directing what space systems do. Ordering satellite imagery or using satellite communications is already accessible. It does not automatically make an organization a space company.

Then he introduces a third category: support for space. A company can contribute without owning rockets, satellites or a communications network. Medical services for astronauts are one example. Addressing space debris is another opportunity he discusses.

That distinction opens a more practical conversation for established companies. Instead of asking whether they should become a space business, they can examine where their existing expertise could support one. The entry point might be a service or a capability they already understand.

Brewer is interested in the possibilities, but he also raises questions about access, international competition and control. His future scenarios are possibilities to explore, not a settled forecast. Commercial opportunity does not remove the need to consider who benefits and what risks accompany expansion.

Put people's strengths to work

The human side of Brewer's leadership philosophy is equally direct:

“Allow people to do what they naturally do well.”

He wants leaders to create opportunities for people to use those strengths within a team. In his experience, the relationship between work and burnout is more complicated than hours alone. Enjoyment and feeling capable also matter. He presents this as a leadership approach, not a promise that every difficult assignment will become easy.

His own career also benefited from accepting unfamiliar opportunities. He recalls volunteering for a task that led to representing the Department of Defense in work on NATO's AI strategy. The opportunity did not emerge from a carefully planned career move; he raised his hand.

The advice he would give his younger self combines that willingness with seeking different perspectives. Experience in other cultures challenged his assumptions about how people approach problems.

A meaningful mission still needs boundaries

At the end of the episode, Brewer is asked what he would do differently. He jokes about buying Bitcoin early, then turns serious: he worked too many hours.

Looking back after retirement, he values the people and programs he influenced. But he also describes time away from his family that he cannot recover. He would still work hard; he would be more deliberate about which tasks actually needed his attention.

That admission gives the conversation its sharpest leadership lesson. Defining the purpose of a technology project is essential. Defining how much of your life it should occupy deserves the same care.