A hundred ships lined up—that’s a large-scale exercise, no doubt. Public reports on these drills around Taiwan often cite more than a hundred ships and dozens of fighter sorties, covering the airspace and waters around Taiwan and near its outlying islands. The timing also tends to coincide with political flashpoints. But historians have a habit of looking at events like these in two ways: the actions and the rhythm. The actions are visible: ships leaving port, aircraft taking off, missile test launches, and Coast Guard patrols. The rhythm is less visible: when the pressure is ramped up, by how much, for how many days, and how much room is left to maneuver. During the 1996 Taiwan Strait Crisis, the exercises focused more on missile test launches and near-shore deterrence. After Pelosi’s 2022 visit to Taiwan, public reports showed that the number of ships and aircraft deployed over several days set a record. In 2024, the “Joint Sword” series of exercises expanded the scope to waters around Taiwan and its outlying islands. None of these was an isolated piece of “theater”; each was part of a sequence with a buildup, a climax, and an aftermath.

Beijing’s approach is a signal militarily and a cost economically—and it’s calculating both. The military signal is for the outside world: demonstrate the ability to impose a blockade, test joint operations, and gauge the other side’s response. The economic costs are what Beijing has to tally for itself: one day at sea for a destroyer or frigate means real money spent on fuel, maintenance, and crew rotations. Moving more than a hundred ships at once also involves substantial logistics, port coordination, and ammunition use. Then there are war-risk surcharges on shipping insurance in the region, supply-chain stress tests for foreign companies, and short-term volatility in Taiwan’s capital markets. The larger the exercise, the stronger the signal—and the longer the bill. So you can’t judge an exercise just by how many ships there are. You also have to ask who pays once they’re out there, and for how long.

The Taiwan Strait has never been a one-track game. Every escalation has two audiences, one at home and one abroad. At home, the goal is to demonstrate resolve, steady expectations, and respond to public sentiment. Abroad, it’s about deterrence, testing the waters, and leaving room for negotiation. In 2022, the external audience was the United States and its regional allies, while the domestic audience included investors worried the situation might spiral out of control. In the 2024 exercises, the external audience was still the U.S. and Japan, while the domestic audience also included voters in Taiwan and supply-chain stakeholders. Get the rhythm right, and the result is “the message gets through, at a manageable cost.” Get it wrong, and it’s “a big show of force, but diminished impact.” Historians pay so much attention to rhythm because actions can be ramped up on short notice, but rhythm reveals the real intent.

Save a screenshot—I’ve said this many times, and this time is no different. If you think I’m talking nonsense, save a screenshot.