This review by Dr Marigold Black reflects on Let’s Trade, Not Argue: An Australian Strategy to Secure a Respectful Relationship with China, a timely new book co-authored by Security & Defence PLuS Executive Director Dr Ian Langford and Professor Bob Breen. Published by Echo Books in March 2025, the book is available for purchase on Amazon and through other retailers.
There is a well-known Chinese folktale in which a boy paints four dragons on the wall of a temple, rendering them in intricate detail yet he leaves their eyes untouched. When asked why, he replies that once the eyes are painted, the dragons will spring to life and soar into the sky. The tale imparts a simple but profound lesson: the most transformative acts are often the most subtle. That idea lies at the heart of Bob Breen and Ian Langford’s Let’s Trade, Not Argue: An Australian Strategy to Secure a Respectful Relationship with China.
The Chinese Communist Party, as Breen and Langford present it, is a prolific and subtle artist. Its chosen medium is the grey zone, that murky space between peace and open conflict where influence is exerted without overt aggression. Within this ambiguous theatre, the CCP’s actions form a deliberate and cumulative composition: the restoration of China as the Middle Kingdom. Each coercive gesture, each veiled reprisal or quiet encroachment, is a brushstroke on the canvas of an imperial revival. In Let’s Trade, Not Argue, Breen and Langford offer a detailed and deliberate proposal for how Australia might respond.
Where most commentators have demurred, either unwilling or unable to acknowledge the full scope of the CCP’s ambitions, Breen and Langford do not hesitate. They assert that Australia is regarded by Beijing as a tributary within China’s evolving web of strategic relationships: a partner in trade, yes, but a subordinate in posture. If sovereignty is to be preserved, the authors argue, then Australia must meet grey zone aggression with clarity and resolve. The bilateral relationship must be returned to one premised on mutual benefit and respect, and where those terms are refused, there must be firm and non-negotiable consequences.
This is no small task, and one for which Australia is neither fully cognisant nor adequately prepared. In Part One, Breen and Langford set out how the CCP is aggressively seeking to dominate China’s Asia Pacific neighbourhood and change the international rules-based world order to suit China’s interests. While many Australians recognise a threat, few grasp the mechanics of the CCP’s grey zone activities or the complex and opaque set of organisations that have been expressly designed to advance the CCP’s influence in civil society. As a result, Australians may be unwittingly drawn into undermining their own sovereignty.
Yet Breen and Langford remain cautiously optimistic. Perhaps more so than the reader, who may finish the early chapters disheartened by the extent to which the nation remains unalert. But it is not, they insist, in Australia’s fate to become a tributary state. There is time, and there is agency. In the folktale, the dragons remain dormant until the final stroke, that is, the painting of the eyes. In our own predicament, the threat has not yet been fully unleashed. But unless Australia acts swiftly, decisively, and with resolve, it risks a fate not dissimilar to that of Hong Kong or Tibet, whether through complacency or inadvertence.
In Part Two, Breen and Langford chart a course of action. Central to their proposal is a strategy of de-escalation aimed at countering the CCP’s grey zone campaign and re-establishing a trading relationship grounded in mutual respect. They argue that grey zone threats must be met in kind. The response must be suited to the nature of the challenge. Australia’s conventional military forces, they note, are not equipped for this domain. Hence, they propose the creation of a specialised Response Force. This would be a unit composed of personnel with the skills and agility to operate effectively in the grey zone, reporting directly to the Prime Minister and Cabinet.
This is their pièce de résistance. Drawing inspiration from the Z and M special forces and the Services Reconnaissance Department of the Pacific War, they envision a revival of Australia’s wartime ingenuity, adaptability, and strategic initiative. It is a compelling argument, grounded in historical precedent and delivered with clarity.
What makes the proposition convincing is not merely the originality of the idea, but the authors’ evident command of the subject. Their analysis and tone are direct, and their confidence is measured. Let’s Trade, Not Argue is not only a persuasive text but also a recruitment document. It is an invitation for readers to become stakeholders in the vision they put forward. And such a vision demands much: a shift in institutional thinking, a reallocation of resources, and the cultivation of a highly capable cadre of civilian and military professionals. As the authors concede, this will not be an easy transition.
Having outlined the case and drawn the reader in, one is left searching for a more detailed model of how such interactions might unfold. Breen and Langford largely refrain from offering contemporary scenarios, opting instead to keep operational concepts “close hold” to avoid alerting adversaries. In lieu of such detail, they draw on history. And while this is prudent, it may leave the more sceptical reader yearning for greater specificity, particularly given the prospect that the CCP, rather than de-escalate, would simply adapt and exert pressure elsewhere.
Under Xi Jinping’s doctrine of holistic national security, the CCP views threats through a wide aperture, blending economic, political, military, cultural, and societal domains. This approach demands a correspondingly nuanced understanding from those who would respond to it. While Breen and Langford recognise Sun Tzu’s dictum to “know your enemy,” they stop short of examining the deeper terrain of national temperament, those values, beliefs, and conceptions of sovereignty that shape a state’s instincts and red lines. A companion study exploring these underlying psychologies would be a valuable supplement to their practical strategy. Understanding both the CCP’s disposition and Australia’s own would sharpen the Response Force’s calculus and ensure it acts with principled alignment to national character.
The pursuit and defence of sovereignty is ultimately what is at stake. The enduring merit of Let’s Trade, Not Argue lies in the pragmatic, candid, and respectful manner in which Breen and Langford present their case. As the CCP refines and expands its grey zone operations, Australia must develop both the language and the capacity to engage on those terms. This book provides a thorough initiation in both. It is a call to awareness, a model for action, and a challenge to complacency. It should be read not as a provocation, but as a summons.
Eyes of the Dragon: Grey Zone Warfare and Australia’s Strategic Awakening
This review by Dr Marigold Black reflects on Let’s Trade, Not Argue: An Australian Strategy to Secure a Respectful Relationship with China, a timely new book co-authored by Security & Defence PLuS Executive Director Dr Ian Langford and Professor Bob Breen. Published by Echo Books in March 2025, the book is available for purchase on Amazon and through other retailers.
There is a well-known Chinese folktale in which a boy paints four dragons on the wall of a temple, rendering them in intricate detail yet he leaves their eyes untouched. When asked why, he replies that once the eyes are painted, the dragons will spring to life and soar into the sky. The tale imparts a simple but profound lesson: the most transformative acts are often the most subtle. That idea lies at the heart of Bob Breen and Ian Langford’s Let’s Trade, Not Argue: An Australian Strategy to Secure a Respectful Relationship with China.
The Chinese Communist Party, as Breen and Langford present it, is a prolific and subtle artist. Its chosen medium is the grey zone, that murky space between peace and open conflict where influence is exerted without overt aggression. Within this ambiguous theatre, the CCP’s actions form a deliberate and cumulative composition: the restoration of China as the Middle Kingdom. Each coercive gesture, each veiled reprisal or quiet encroachment, is a brushstroke on the canvas of an imperial revival. In Let’s Trade, Not Argue, Breen and Langford offer a detailed and deliberate proposal for how Australia might respond.
Where most commentators have demurred, either unwilling or unable to acknowledge the full scope of the CCP’s ambitions, Breen and Langford do not hesitate. They assert that Australia is regarded by Beijing as a tributary within China’s evolving web of strategic relationships: a partner in trade, yes, but a subordinate in posture. If sovereignty is to be preserved, the authors argue, then Australia must meet grey zone aggression with clarity and resolve. The bilateral relationship must be returned to one premised on mutual benefit and respect, and where those terms are refused, there must be firm and non-negotiable consequences.
This is no small task, and one for which Australia is neither fully cognisant nor adequately prepared. In Part One, Breen and Langford set out how the CCP is aggressively seeking to dominate China’s Asia Pacific neighbourhood and change the international rules-based world order to suit China’s interests. While many Australians recognise a threat, few grasp the mechanics of the CCP’s grey zone activities or the complex and opaque set of organisations that have been expressly designed to advance the CCP’s influence in civil society. As a result, Australians may be unwittingly drawn into undermining their own sovereignty.
Yet Breen and Langford remain cautiously optimistic. Perhaps more so than the reader, who may finish the early chapters disheartened by the extent to which the nation remains unalert. But it is not, they insist, in Australia’s fate to become a tributary state. There is time, and there is agency. In the folktale, the dragons remain dormant until the final stroke, that is, the painting of the eyes. In our own predicament, the threat has not yet been fully unleashed. But unless Australia acts swiftly, decisively, and with resolve, it risks a fate not dissimilar to that of Hong Kong or Tibet, whether through complacency or inadvertence.
In Part Two, Breen and Langford chart a course of action. Central to their proposal is a strategy of de-escalation aimed at countering the CCP’s grey zone campaign and re-establishing a trading relationship grounded in mutual respect. They argue that grey zone threats must be met in kind. The response must be suited to the nature of the challenge. Australia’s conventional military forces, they note, are not equipped for this domain. Hence, they propose the creation of a specialised Response Force. This would be a unit composed of personnel with the skills and agility to operate effectively in the grey zone, reporting directly to the Prime Minister and Cabinet.
This is their pièce de résistance. Drawing inspiration from the Z and M special forces and the Services Reconnaissance Department of the Pacific War, they envision a revival of Australia’s wartime ingenuity, adaptability, and strategic initiative. It is a compelling argument, grounded in historical precedent and delivered with clarity.
What makes the proposition convincing is not merely the originality of the idea, but the authors’ evident command of the subject. Their analysis and tone are direct, and their confidence is measured. Let’s Trade, Not Argue is not only a persuasive text but also a recruitment document. It is an invitation for readers to become stakeholders in the vision they put forward. And such a vision demands much: a shift in institutional thinking, a reallocation of resources, and the cultivation of a highly capable cadre of civilian and military professionals. As the authors concede, this will not be an easy transition.
Having outlined the case and drawn the reader in, one is left searching for a more detailed model of how such interactions might unfold. Breen and Langford largely refrain from offering contemporary scenarios, opting instead to keep operational concepts “close hold” to avoid alerting adversaries. In lieu of such detail, they draw on history. And while this is prudent, it may leave the more sceptical reader yearning for greater specificity, particularly given the prospect that the CCP, rather than de-escalate, would simply adapt and exert pressure elsewhere.
Under Xi Jinping’s doctrine of holistic national security, the CCP views threats through a wide aperture, blending economic, political, military, cultural, and societal domains. This approach demands a correspondingly nuanced understanding from those who would respond to it. While Breen and Langford recognise Sun Tzu’s dictum to “know your enemy,” they stop short of examining the deeper terrain of national temperament, those values, beliefs, and conceptions of sovereignty that shape a state’s instincts and red lines. A companion study exploring these underlying psychologies would be a valuable supplement to their practical strategy. Understanding both the CCP’s disposition and Australia’s own would sharpen the Response Force’s calculus and ensure it acts with principled alignment to national character.
The pursuit and defence of sovereignty is ultimately what is at stake. The enduring merit of Let’s Trade, Not Argue lies in the pragmatic, candid, and respectful manner in which Breen and Langford present their case. As the CCP refines and expands its grey zone operations, Australia must develop both the language and the capacity to engage on those terms. This book provides a thorough initiation in both. It is a call to awareness, a model for action, and a challenge to complacency. It should be read not as a provocation, but as a summons.