China Plays Chicken - Bad Move

In the volatile waters of the South China Sea, where freedom of navigation hangs by a thread, the United States Navy again demonstrated professional discipline and resolve in the face of overt Chinese aggression. In June 2025, during a joint exercise with allied forces, the USS Nimitz (CVN-68)—a nuclear-powered supercarrier and enduring symbol of American power—was shadowed at close quarters by Chinese warships in a reckless display of brinkmanship. Chinese state rhetoric tried to sell the encounter as a “game of chicken,” a trivial label for behavior that invites deadly consequences. It was not an isolated event. Similar harassment of U.S. carriers in the region earlier in the year made plain the Chinese Communist Party’s strategy: test limits, endanger lives, and push the Pacific Rim toward a confrontation through militarized expansionism.

Such behavior by the Chinese could easily trigger a battle and escalate rapidly into a world war.

Let us be candid. By building and fortifying artificial islands, deploying advanced weapon systems, and conducting aggressive maneuvers against foreign vessels, Beijing is gambling with global stability. The South China Sea is a vital shipping artery that carries trillions of dollars in annual trade. When Chinese destroyers and frigates close inside dangerous distances, they violate international norms and create the risk of collision, miscalculation, and escalation. That is not diplomacy. That is coercion enforced by the People’s Liberation Army Navy—now the world’s largest fleet—designed to displace the United States and intimidate neighbors into silence.

As long as we no longer have a president asleep at the wheel, this behavior will not be tolerated. Clear, enforced red lines—backed by credible capability and allied unity—are the surest deterrent to miscalculation and escalation.

Against that backdrop, the maturity of the Nimitz’s leadership and crew stood out. Confronted by provocative shadowing and taunting radio calls, the commanding officer—Captain [redacted for operational security]—kept his team focused and unemotional. Pilots in F/A-18 Super Hornet squadrons executed routine sorties with precision, while bridge officers held formation without mirroring the provocations. This was not bravado. It was disciplined restraint. It reflected rigorous training, unblinking mission focus, and a clear understanding that real strength means de-escalating when possible while standing immovably on principle. That stance—calm, professional, and unflappable—prevented a dangerous encounter from becoming a disaster and reminded allies why American seamanship remains the world’s gold standard.

The contrast with Beijing’s behavior across the Pacific Rim is stark. Under Xi Jinping, Chinese policy has mixed economic leverage, military intimidation, and legal cynicism to pressure smaller states. The Philippines has endured repeated ramming incidents, high-pressure water-cannon attacks, and dangerous blockades near Scarborough Shoal and Second Thomas Shoal—actions aimed at undermining Manila’s control of its exclusive economic zone despite a 2016 international tribunal ruling that rejected China’s “nine-dash line.” Vietnam has faced encroachments by Chinese survey ships escorted by militia fleets, interruptions of energy exploration, and the harassment of fishermen. Malaysia and Brunei report persistent incursions that chill commercial activity and strain limited naval resources. Indonesia has protested violations around the Natuna Islands. Japan experiences near-weekly intrusions around the Senkaku Islands. Each episode follows the same playbook: incremental faits accomplis that change realities on the water without triggering a formal war.

Taiwan remains the centerpiece of this pressure campaign. Daily incursions by Chinese aircraft into Taiwan’s air defense identification zone, combined with live-fire drills and blockade rehearsals, are designed to wear down defenses, normalize intimidation, and signal a willingness to escalate. This is not a defensive posture. It is a predatory strategy aimed at absorbing a vibrant democratic society of 23 million into an authoritarian system, with all the risks of a U.S.–China conflict that such an act would entail.

Beijing’s method is often described as “salami-slicing”: build and arm outposts such as Fiery Cross Reef, declare new administrative zones, push coast guard and maritime militia forward, and use economic punishment to isolate dissenters. The pattern is strategic, persistent, and deliberately ambiguous. It seeks to control the commons without owning the consequences of open conflict. Meanwhile, China’s economic statecraft—exemplified by Belt and Road lending and selective trade sanctions—adds pressure on governments and industries that refuse to fall in line, as Australia’s exporters learned when they faced punitive restrictions after calling for a transparent COVID-19 origins inquiry.

The United States response—exemplified by the Nimitz’s steady presence—is the counterweight. Freedom of Navigation Operations assert that international law is not up for reinterpretation by the largest bully on the block. Combined exercises strengthen interoperability, reassure allies, and make miscalculation less likely. The Quad—United States, Japan, India, and Australia—adds strategic depth, while AUKUS advances undersea and advanced technology cooperation that complicates any Chinese attempt at sea denial. These partnerships do not eliminate risk, but they raise the cost of aggression and keep the door open for peaceful competition under rules that all parties understand.

The reality is still sobering. Modern conflict would not be confined to contested waters. It would likely include cyber attacks, space disruption, strikes with hypersonic and long-range precision weapons, and economic coercion aimed at fracturing alliances. A single collision, misread radar return, or undisciplined missile launch could trigger a chain reaction among nuclear-armed states and wreck global supply chains overnight. That is why the conduct of American captains, air wing commanders, and deck crews matters. Professionalism is not a slogan. It is the front line of deterrence.

It is also why the maturity of U.S. forces deserves explicit recognition. The Nimitz’s aircrews launched and recovered under tension without theatrics. The watch teams on the bridge and in the combat information center executed checklists and communications protocols with quiet excellence. The carrier strike group maintained posture, protected its operating areas, and avoided unnecessary risk. That competence is the product of relentless training, joint experience with allies, and a culture that prizes judgment. China’s fleet may be large and growing, but experience under real operational pressure is not created by parades. It is earned at sea, day after day, with lives on the line.

Ultimately, the issue is larger than a single standoff. It is about whether the world’s most important maritime crossroads remains open, lawful, and stable—or whether it is subordinated to the dictates of an expansionist power. The CCP’s actions—from ramming Philippine boats to encircling Taiwan—are not the behavior of a status-quo stakeholder. They are markers of an imperial project cloaked in nationalism and legal sophistry. The United States, with its alliances, its proven seamanship, and its preference for peace through strength, remains the indispensable counterweight.

The course ahead is clear. Maintain a persistent presence. Expand allied capacity. Share technology that raises the cost of coercion. Call out unlawful behavior plainly and consistently. Reward restraint where it appears, and be prepared to act decisively when it does not. Freedom is not free, and history shows that appeasing bullies does not buy peace—it purchases a larger bill later. The Pacific’s future depends on disciplined power, clear principles, and leadership that understands the difference between showmanship and stewardship. On all three counts, the Nimitz and her crew set the standard.