Thomas E. Ricks's Blog, page 57

Military acronym watch: 'TKC.' Also, do we have a fundamental right to party?

Reading
an old issue of International Review of
the Red Cross,
I came across a military acronym I hadn't seen before: "TKC," for "traditional
kinetic conflict."

The
article pointed out something
I hadn't seen before, that several nations, including France, Spain and Finland,
have "declared that access to the Internet is a fundamental right of their
societies."

So,
do we still have to fight for our right to party?

How a good defense reporter works

Bob
Burns explains how he delved into the
rot in the Air Force's nuclear weapons forces.

We have met the enemy and he is us: A possible 4-step recovery program for PME

By "Doctrine Man"


Best Defense guest
columnist

PowerPoint is dead. Long live PowerPoint.

From crowded operations centers in combat zones
far from our shores to the fluorescently-antiseptic hallways of the Pentagon,
no phrase will draw a nervous sideways glance quicker than "Death by
PowerPoint." Utter those words aloud in any environment and battle captains
descend into laptop defilade, staff officers scatter like cockroaches in
sunlight, and commanders at all levels sigh in frustration.

PowerPoint hailed the death of critical
thinking. The anecdotal evidence is overwhelming: the
mind map from the ninth circle of hell, the
military's acquisition life cyclorama, or just about any
orders "briefing" which typically runs longer than the time required to produce
an actual order. PowerPoint has infected our military culture like a digital
zombie apocalypse, transforming our leaders into the intellectual equivalent of
the living dead. We have met the enemy and he is us.

In Richard Russell's Best
Defense post, he rightly identifies a problem rooted in
Professional Military Education (PME) and advocates a ban on PowerPoint as a
necessary first step in military educational reform. But PowerPoint isn't the
problem, it's just a symptom of a deeper problem years in the making.
PowerPoint is merely a tool; it's the tool behind the tool with whom we should
concern ourselves.

We suffer from a communication problem.
Stringing together a coherent, one-page information paper is a challenge for
many people; forget about a more in-depth "thinking" piece. And the average
mid-career leader would rather be subjected to enemy fire than speak in a
public setting. Banning PowerPoint doesn't solve the problem, it only
exacerbates it. The skill we once considered essential has become an elusive
silver bullet. Yet we have no one to blame but ourselves.

If we truly want to revitalize our military
education system, we should begin with the fundamentals. We often bemoan the
loss of the Army's Combined Arms and Staff Services School (CAS3), where young
officers spent weeks refining their writing, speaking, and presenting skills.
The feedback was honest, direct, and often brutal, but the end result was a
marked improvement in communication skills. When the Army scuttled CAS3 in
2004, we surrendered the one course that sharpened the fundamentals we so
desperately need today.

First, we need to learn to write. At every
level of PME, writing should focus on papers of increasing length and
complexity, with a requirement to write for publication. This requirement
should extend to structured self-development (SSD), with writing focusing on
experiential learning gained during operations. If we are truly a profession,
then "publish or perish" should mean as much to us as academia. This
accomplishes two objectives: One, we develop and refine our ability to
communicate our thoughts and ideas in written form; two, we collectively
contribute to the greater body of knowledge for the Profession of Arms.

Second, we need to become more adept at public
speaking. The only sure method to improve oral communication skills is to
exercise them regularly. PME courses offer a multitude of opportunities to
speak before a wide variety of audiences, but most of these opportunities lack
a formal feedback mechanism to help the speaker improve. The fine art of
speaking, like writing, is the ability to convey one's thoughts clearly and
concisely, logically and organized.

Third, we need to embrace professional reading
in PME. Some of our finest leaders issue reading lists, from the Air Force
chief of staff, General
Mark Welsh, to Major
General H.R. McMaster, the soon-to-be three-star and author
of Dereliction of Duty. Even the
Master of Chaos himself, General
(Ret) James Mattis proclaimed the necessity of
professional reading to leader development. Reading is fundamental. It is also
the shortest route to increased knowledge and improved communication skills.

Finally, we need to teach our people how to use
all of the tools in the communication kitbag, from social media to PowerPoint.
Whether communicating in 140-character bursts or 40-page monographs, on 5x8 cards
or PowerPoint slides, PME should set the foundation for our communication skills.
We shouldn't ban PowerPoint any more than we would ban the use of paper for
those who don't write well. Take the time to teach people how to use the tools
we have available, and to use them responsibly.

PME takes great pride in proclaiming that we
teach people how to think, not what to think. Teaching people how to think
begins with the ability to clearly communicate ideas, because therein lies the
essence of learning. Of all the "stuff" we cram into our PME courses, an
increased emphasis on communication skills should be non-negotiable. PME
shouldn't be the catch-all for every "shiny object" that comes along, it should
be where we shepherd and protect the essential skills we deem the most
valuable.

Richard Russell is right: We need to revitalize
our military education system. But let's treat the problem, not the symptom.

Doctrine Man is the pseudonym of a career Army officer,
strategist, and recovering doctrine writer. A graduate of the Army's School of
Advanced Military Studies, he logged three combat tours in Iraq while mastering
the art of PowerPoint with his online comic strip,
The Further
Adventures of Doctrine Man!! He recently published the second volume of his annual comic compendium,
now available on Amazon.

Sen. Mark Pryor needs a copy of Creedence's song 'Fortunate Son'

Sen. Mark Pryor of Arkansas claimed his political opponent Tom
Cotton, a veteran of the 101st Airborne who did tours of duty in both Iraq and
Afghanistan, has a sense of entitlement from his military service. "I think it's part of this
sense of entitlement that he gives off -- almost as like 'I served my country,
therefore elect me to the Senate," Pryor reportedly said.

This is just bizarre, especially coming from someone who basically
inherited his Senate seat from his father, David Pryor, who was a member of the
Senate for 18 years.

It made me think of that old Creedence Clearwater Revival song, "Fortunate Son":

It
ain't me, it ain't me,


I
ain't no senator's son.

It
ain't me, it ain't me,


I
ain't no fortunate one.

Meanwhile, in other Capitol Hill news, Congress
is beginning to question
the direction the CIA has taken over the last
decade. Better late than never, I suppose.

How to talk about Ukraine

Some helpful advice for pundits.

The Best Defense travel guide: Thoughts after visiting LBJ's ranch in Texas

I wasn't really up for a visit to the LBJ Ranch, because I decided against
writing a book on the Vietnam War and I have small admiration for the man. But
my wife talked me into it, so after listening to music in Luckenbach we headed northeast to the
Pedernales Valley.

I am glad we did. Knocking around the ranch and seeing his house
helped me understand Johnson better. The thing that struck me most was that there
were telephones and televisions everywhere -- three TVs in the living room, and
even a telephone in the dining room, under the table at his big cowhide-covered
seat at the head of the table. Our National Park Service guide said he sometimes
spent 18 hours a day on the phone. Yet for all that, I thought, he was a poor
communicator. While he could intimidate congressional colleagues, he never
really spoke to the country about the war he was waging in Vietnam. I still
don't understand why. If it was worth killing and dying for, it was worth
talking about to the people. LBJ's hero, FDR, knew this, yet Johnson didn't
learn the lesson.

Second, as Texas ranches go, it really wasn't very big. But it is
in a pretty location, and those are rare in much of Texas. The Hill Country is
nice enough -- a desiccated plateau, I think, of scrubby land. It wouldn't make
my top 20 list of the most beautiful regions in the United States. Nor even my
top 100.

Third, the comments by Johnson on the CD we bought for the driving
tour were odd. He spoke, I think he thought affectingly, of how the air was
clearer and the water purer here in the Hill Country. As I listened, I looked
down at the trickle of the Pedernales and
thought that it probably is one-third cowshit and another third sheep and deer
shit. After heavy rains, when tons of manure are sluiced down the valley, the
e. coli count is probably so high that the river vibrates. I wondered how much
of LBJ's problem was an ability for self-deception for what he considered the
best of reasons.

Finally, I was surprised that Johnson grew up just east of
Fredericksburg, the heart of the 19th century German-American settlements in
central Texas. As I understand it, there was a progressivist streak in those
isolated settlers. Many were anti-slavery, and some sided with the Union during
the Civil War. "The God damn Dutchmen are Unionists to a man," complained Capt.
James Duff, commander of the Confederate troops sent to occupy Fredericksburg,
according to T.R. Ferhenbach's Lone Star:
A History of Texas and the Texans. Those suspected of disloyalty were
harassed and lynched. When a bunch of German-Americans opted to head for Mexico, they were pursued and killed by Confederates,
including nine who had been taken prisoner. I wonder how much of this rubbed
off on young Lyndon. If a lot, then I would say he was from the South, but not
really of it.

The Fredericksburg High School motto, BTW, is "Billie Pride Uber Alles."

As I left, I wondered if LBJ was a little man trying to act big --
kind of the person Harry Truman was accused of being, incorrectly.

A photographer explains this shot from his time with the Army in Afghanistan

There is a wonderful portfolio of
photographs by Chase Steely in the first edition of the new magazine, the Pass in Review. He is a soldier
who just decided to take photographs while deployed to Afghanistan, and he
clearly has an eye for it. One limitation of his work, he told the magazine,
was that, "I didn't get many action pictures
because when stuff was going down I was either on the radio or shooting so I
wasn't taking photos."

I asked for a shot Steely considers representative of his work,
and he picked the one you see here. He explained: "I like to capture the everyday things,
and bring a sense of what it is like to be a soldier on the day to day. I
wouldn't know where to begin if I had to pose people and shoot traditional
style portraits. I like to just walk along and shoot as if no one knows I'm there."

His work is compiled in a self-published book titled The Longest Year: A
Photograph­ic Journey. It is a great
visual account of one unit's tour.

Skipper of USS Germantown fired

It's
firing season in the Navy again. With the captain of the USS Germantown, the charge was poor command
climate, lack of confidence in his judgment and leadership, especially in relationship to his
handling of a sexual assault investigation. The ship's command master chief walked the plank
last month.

The XO
of the USS Connecticut, an attack sub, also got the big boot, with talk of an
NCIS investigation underway. 

The future of war (essay no. 15): We will lose it because we are an aging empire wedded to an outmoded style of war

By Adrian Bonenberger


Best Defense future of war entrant

We've already fought the war-after-next, and
lost. Called "The Millennium Challenge 2002," it was a simulated war game
designed to showcase a high-tech, integrated U.S. Navy's ability to crush
smaller, less sophisticated foes (widely assumed to be Iran) in the Strait of
Hormuz. What happened instead was a simulated disaster: Overwhelmed by hundreds
of small groups operating according to pre-established, decentralized
directives and empowered to think for themselves, the U.S. side quickly lost an
entire aircraft carrier support group, as well as numerous aircraft. The
notional enemies used basic radar, primitive cruise missiles, rockets,
motorcycle couriers, and strategic initiative to achieve total surprise,
following up their initial advantage with another wave of de facto missiles --
explosives-laden motorboats that were too numerous and speedy for the lumbering
Navy ships to engage effectively.

Future planners have spent a great
deal of time and energy justifying platforms like the F-22, the F-35, and the
Navy's Littoral Combat Ship (LCS), claiming that they are necessary to win the
next war -- but they've actually been developed to fight some version of World
War II. It's important to maintain a competitive edge in fighter capability to
hedge our bets, but considering that we spend as much on our military as the
next 10 spenders in the world combined, what are the odds -- really -- that
another country will be able to directly challenge our technological
superiority, or that they'll want to? The last sophisticated military that was
stupid enough to challenge us directly was Iraq, in 1991, and what the U.S.
military did to Saddam's entire military infrastructure in three days left an
unmistakable mark on our adversaries. (I'm discounting the Taliban because they
challenged us not out of confidence that they would be able to resist our
attack, but based on the assumption that we wouldn't attack at all, merely
conduct a punitive bombing raid or missile strike.)

The greatest (not necessarily worst,
but greatest) military miscalculations of the last four decades have been made
by America, Russia, Iraq, Iraq again, and America. There's something reassuring
about having a conventionally frightening military, about a big navy, and a big
air force with technologically advanced fighters, and an army with the best,
most gadgety tanks. It seems to fill leaders with a sense that anything's possible.

According to Lockheed Martin, the
company that produces the F-22 Raptor, 195 planes were produced for the Air
Force, of which eight were test planes, for a total of 187 operational
aircraft. Each plane cost an estimated $150 million. Air Force planners seem
confident that these planes can deliver air dominance at "the decisive
point" in an air conflict with an enemy of equal or slightly greater
strength.

But what if this hypothetical enemy --
China, Russia, some unforeseen alliance from the Middle East or Africa, united
under one brutal Hitler or Napoleon's fist -- is planning on sending up 20
inferior planes for each F-22, and 20 inferior tanks to each Abrams? What if we
find ourselves in a position of geographical and political isolation, bereft of
allies, and facing an alliance of enemies bent on our destruction? Why wouldn't
they take this approach -- the very approach we used on the ground against a
technologically superior Nazi Germany, sending 15 Sherman tanks against each
Tiger they fielded. Why would our future-future enemy face us on equal terms
when we're apparently very vulnerable to asymmetrical, low-tech attack?

There's already compelling evidence
that the Chinese are developing
heavy-duty low-tech cruise missiles designed to sink American naval vessels,
from cruisers to aircraft carriers, and sophisticated anti-air platforms for
our designer fighters. They saw the results of the Millennium Challenge 2002
and drew the appropriate conclusions. Us? We refloated the sunken U.S. Navy,
regenerated the dead soldiers, sailors, and airmen, reconstituted the planes,
and started the exercise over again, having imposed certain restrictions on the
enemy force, such as identifying the locations of all anti-aircraft radar,
imposing targeting restrictions, and making the exercise into one linear
script, which resulted in a stunning U.S. victory.

The next war, or two, or three, will
likely resemble Iraq or Afghanistan, and will not significantly test American
military capabilities, only our political resolve. It's only a matter of time,
however, before we run up against that thoughtful, clever enemy who's waiting
for us, who is savvy enough to align force against our weak points, and charismatic
enough to convince our allies to stay out of their business and our enemies
that it's in their best interest to align against us. When that happens, we
will face a storm of low-tech fury, and it will overmatch us. Our brave pilots
will shoot down dozens of opponents but be shot down in turn; our soldiers will
die where they stand, overwhelmed and outnumbered. We can say this with
authority because it is how every single empire has ended -- undone by its
strength and confidence in an old model of warfare, addicted to tradition and
unable to pivot quickly enough to adapt to a changing world.

Adrian Bonenberger graduated from Yale University before pursuing
his advanced studies in the U.S. Army Infantry. He deployed twice to
Afghanistan, where he was decorated for heroism in combat. His war
memoirs, Afghan Post, are available through The Head and The Hand Press. He is currently enrolled
in the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. And he's at @AHBonenberger.

JAGs gone wild: Joint edition

What
a week for JAGs: Two specializing in dealing with sexual assault issues are
being investigated for sexual assault or battery. Plus the BG Sinclair
case explodes in several different
directions. At some point you need to wonder about the decisions being made by senior leaders.

It
reminds me of a few years ago when it developed that one of the Air Force's top
lawyers had been disbarred in civilian life.