
The Littoral Combat Ship (LCS) was hailed as the Navy’s ship of the future—an agile, fast ship that could police coastlines, replace old frigates, and evolve to suit a range of missions. In practice, the program has been a cautionary story about promise exceeding performance, delivering expensive ships that frequently fail to live up to their hype.

The program got underway in the early 2000s, as the Navy attempted to reimagine its role in a post–Cold War world. The buzzword was “network-centric warfare”: a dream of small, flexible, highly networked ships that could carry out several missions with lean crews. Every LCS would be intended to carry just 40 sailors, plus a few extra depending on the mission module—significantly fewer than the around 200-man crews needed on conventional frigates.

Two designs were created: Lockheed Martin’s steel-hulled Freedom-class and General Dynamics/Austal USA’s aluminum trimaran Independence-class.

Originally, the Navy envisioned a fleet of 74 ships at approximately $212 million each. But as technical issues and delays accumulated, the order was cut to 35, and prices skyrocketed to $28 billion.

Even from its beginning, the LCS had issues with mechanical breakdowns, propulsion malfunctions, and questions regarding survivability in combat zones of high risk. Testers criticized its toughness and cybersecurity. Both classes had repeated breakdowns, often piling up in port for repairs.

The Freedom-class had repeated powertrain malfunctions and low fuel efficiency, which led to the premature retirement of a few ships after only several years.

The Independence-class had its issues, including headaches over maintenance, corrosion, and constant replacement of sacrificial anodes. Even the much-awaited modular mission packages lagged far behind schedule and underperformed when they were deployed.

Industry and political pressures served to keep the program running longer than performance alone would dictate. Contractors threatened Congress that discontinuing the LCS would decimate shipyards and cost thousands of jobs, leaving lawmakers in the unenviable position of weighing economic and defense interests.

Even from its beginning, the LCS had issues with mechanical breakdowns, propulsion malfunctions, and questions regarding survivability in combat zones of high risk. Testers criticized its toughness and cybersecurity. Both classes had repeated breakdowns, often piling up in port for repairs.

The Freedom-class had repeated powertrain malfunctions and low fuel efficiency, which led to the premature retirement of a few ships after only several years. The Independence-class had its issues, including headaches over maintenance, corrosion, and constant replacement of sacrificial anodes. Even the much-awaited modular mission packages lagged far behind schedule and underperformed when they were deployed.

The cost to the coffers has been staggering. The Government Accountability Office puts the lifetime cost of the planned LCS fleet at over $60 billion—twice the cost of construction. This cheating act made them pay $24 million and lose a lot of trust from people.

The LCS ship shares its problems. Other large projects, such as the Zumwalt-class ship and the F-35 plane, have had high costs, delays, and tech problems too.

These problems matter: the Navy now has fewer ships, down to 238 from 318 in 2000, and the Air Force has about half the warplanes it once had. The military is spending more cash but achieving less, weakening its power and capacity.

Now, the Navy expects that the Constellation-class frigate, a variant of an established European design, will help close some of the gaps that the LCS left.

But even before the first vessel is finished, delays and cost overruns are surfacing as a result of U.S.-specific changes that undermine the value of a proven design.

The LCS story shows a key lesson in defense planning: too much desire, political push, and the firm’s gain can lead to costly, poor ships. With U.S. defense spending close to $1.5 trillion a year, smart plan control, clear duty to answer for actions, and wise care are more needed than before.