The Last Warrior may suffer from overly high expectations for those who’ve heard of the enigmatic Andrew Marshall. For one, it’s constrained by the plain fact that much of Marshall’s work product remains classified. Krepinevich and Watts are both Marshall proteges, so as one would expect, they treat their subject with a gentle touch. If they level any criticism, it’s that Marshall could have been more assertive at times, but it’s quickly excused as professional detachment. Another limitation of the book -- and the authors are upfront about it -- is that it was not intended to be a biography, but rather an intellectual history of the man. A book with a man’s name in the title that reveals only the highlights of his life and little of his personality leaves one a bit thirsty. The book is, rather, a post WWII history of net assessment in the United States presented through the lens of Andrew Marshall’s experience. As far as Marshall’s contributions to the national security discussion go, they are according to the authors (1) his insistence that the CIAs estimate of how much GNP was being consumed by military production in the USSR, (2) recognizing that the U.S. was in the midst of a revolution in military affairs, and (3) anticipating China’s rise. It seems, however, that Marshall’s greater contribution to national security is the analytical rigor he brought to the generation of forecasts, while trying to temper them with the realities of a non-linear environment inhabited by (at times) non-rational actors. He was a leader and a role model in that he always sought to ask a better question; no use in rushing for answers if you haven’t framed and formulated the right question. In sum, the book doesn’t offer a great deal of insight into either ONA or its father. In the end, we’re still left to assume that Marshall did great service to the nation, based mostly on his longevity in the inauspicious A-ring office he inhabited. ( )