Anduril’s Real War Is With Itself | WIRED

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Anduril’s missile motor factory near the Gulf Coast of Mississippi already seemed to be running behind schedule when, about a year ago, a young engineer scorched his hand. The employee, whose previous job had been at a company that made outdoor gear, was assembling one of Anduril’s first electrical igniters, known around the factory as a “white hot.” It was a small but crucial part in the $30.5 billion defense startup’s plan to transform the design, assembly, and sale of military technology. The “white hot” would light a test sample of Anduril’s propellant—a rubbery substance meant to power an array of different US and allied missiles.

Before the injury, the engineer’s team hadn’t conducted a job safety analysis or mandated the use of a safety shield. He wore rubber gloves not rated for fire protection. When the igniter misfired in a flash of white, the worker’s right hand suffered burns.

Local emergency services didn’t receive a call; the engineer’s boss drove him to a hospital, one person says. A photo his partner posted showed him sleeping with his hand wrapped in gauze. She solicited donations on Facebook, saying the family would lose its sole source of income while he recovered and visited Alabama for checkups.

The igniter incident is among a number of safety concerns and project challenges at Anduril’s manufacturing operations that WIRED can reveal here for the first time. This investigation is based on interviews with 37 former and current employees and contractors, including more than 20 with direct knowledge of Anduril's production lines. The people spoke on the condition of anonymity, citing nondisclosure agreements and fear of retaliation from Anduril or current employers.

Shannon Prior, an Anduril spokesperson, said on Wednesday it would not be productive to respond to WIRED’s questions about the incidents and details described in this story and declined to do so. “Upon reviewing the fact-check questions, we have identified claims that are inaccurate or misleading, reflecting a reporting process that relied heavily on former employees while excluding the company’s perspective,” she wrote in a statement. “At this stage, responding to individual assertions would not address the underlying issues with how the story was developed.”

Prior added, “If WIRED chooses to publish claims that are inaccurate or misleading, we will correct the record publicly.”

Like Elon Musk at SpaceX with rockets, Anduril’s leaders want to prove that weapons can be made faster, cheaper, and better than at legacy behemoths like Lockheed Martin and Boeing. But parts of Anduril have faced what some of the sources view as process dysfunction, management turnover, and deadline pressure beyond what they consider typical of defense and tech companies. Others describe the reality as standard growing pains. By either interpretation, the workers’ accounts reveal some of the obstacles Anduril has faced as it pursues what it views as a modern approach to making the tools of war.

Anduril products on display at headquarters in December 2023.

Photograph: Getty Images

In Anduril’s portrayal, traditional defense companies typically don’t build something until the customer has specified exactly what it’s looking for. By contrast, Anduril has developed about a dozen different prototype products, and acquired the startups behind a dozen more, without always knowing for sure that someone will buy them. The company can do this because of support from venture capitalists including Peter Thiel’s Founders Fund and Josh Kushner's Thrive Capital—more than $6 billion so far, with another $4 billion likely on the way. Its annual R&D spending is on the order of Lockheed Martin’s $2 billion last year, says Paul Kwan, managing director at investment firm General Catalyst and an observer on Anduril’s board. “That's crazy,” Kwan says.

Though Anduril executives expect the company to remain unprofitable for years given the upfront spending, it is aiming to double its valuation to $60 billion, roughly on par with L3Harris, one of the top 10 US defense contractors, which has 10 times more annual revenue. Nearly a decade into Anduril’s journey to disrupt the military-industrial complex, its more than 7,500 employees have delivered at least four Dive uncrewed submarines, several hundred Sentry border surveillance towers, hundreds of Roadrunner missiles to destroy airborne threats, and a couple thousand drones small enough to fit into a pickup truck. (And that’s not including software systems and classified orders.)

The company’s 10 or so factories, half a dozen test sites, and around 30 offices span at least 18 US states and territories and eight countries abroad, WIRED found based on public data and interviews with people who have spent time at the sites. In anticipation of orders growing, Anduril is expanding. A billion-dollar R&D facility is planned