33strats-ch15-control-dynamics

CONTROL THE DYNAMIC FORCING STRATEGIES People are constantly struggling to control you–getting you to act in their interests, keeping the dynamic on their terms. The only way to get the upper hand is to make your play for control more intelligent and insidious. Instead of trying to dominate the other side’s every move, work to define the nature of the relationship itself. Shift the conflict to terrain of your choice, altering the pace and stakes to suit you. Maneuver to control your opponents’ minds, pushing their emotional buttons, and compelling them to make mistakes. If necessary, let them feel they are in control in order to get them to lower their guard. If you control the overall direction and framing of the battle, anything they do will play into your hands. “Pressing down the pillow” refers to one’s efforts not to let the head of one’s opponent rise. In battles based on martial strategy, it is taboo to let your opponent take the initiative, thus putting yourself on the defensive. You must try at all costs to lead your opponent by taking complete control of him. During combat, your opponent intends to dominate you as much as you want to dominate him, so it is vital that you pick up on your opponent’s intentions and tactics so as to control him…. According to the principle of martial strategy, you must be able to control your opponent(s) at all times. Study this point well. THE BOOK OF FIVE RINGS, MIYAMOTO MUSASHI, 1584-1645 THE ART OF ULTIMATE CONTROL Control is an issue in all relationships. It is human nature to abhor feelings of helplessness and to strive for power. Whenever two people or groups interact, there is a constant maneuvering between them to define the relationship, to determine who has control over this and that. This battle of wills is inevitable. Your task as a strategist is twofold: First, recognize the struggle for control in all aspects of life, and never be taken in by those who claim they are not interested in control. Such types are often the most manipulative of all. Second, you must master the art of moving the other side like pieces on a chessboard, with purpose and direction. This art was cultivated by the most creative generals and military strategists throughout the ages. War is above all else a struggle over who can control the actions of the other side to a greater extent. Military geniuses such as Hannibal, Napoleon, and Erwin Rommel discovered that the best way to attain control is to determine the overall pace, direction, and shape of the war itself. This means getting enemies to fight according to your tempo, luring them onto terrain that is unfamiliar to them and suited to you, playing to your strengths. And, most important of all, it means gaining influence over the frame of mind of your opponents, adapting your maneuvers to their psychological weaknesses. The superior strategist understands that it is impossible to control exactly how an enemy will respond to this move or that. To attempt to do so will only lead to frustration and exhaustion. There is too much in war and in life that is unpredictable. But if the strategist can control the mood and mind-set of his enemies, it does not matter exactly how they respond to his maneuvers. If he can make them frightened, panicky, overly aggressive, and angry, he controls the wider scope of their actions and can trap them mentally before cornering them physically. Control can be aggressive or passive. It can be an immediate push on the enemy, making him back up and lose the initiative. It can be playing possum, getting the enemy to lower his guard, or baiting him into a rash attack. The artist of control weaves both of these into a devastating pattern–hitting, backing off, baiting, overwhelming. This art is infinitely applicable to the battles of everyday life. Many people tend to play unconscious games of domination or get caught up in trying to control someone else’s every move. In trying to manage and determine too much, they exhaust themselves, make mistakes, push people away, and in the end lose control of the situation. If you understand and master the art, you will instantly become more creative in your approach to influencing and controlling the other side. By determining people’s moods, the pace at which they must move, the stakes involved, you will find that almost anything people do in response to your maneuvers will fit into the overall dynamic you have shaped. They may know they are being controlled but be helpless to fight it, or they may move in the direction you desire without realizing it. That is ultimate control. In short, I think like Frederick [the Great] , one should always be the first to attack. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, 1769-1821 The following are the four basic principles of the art.

Keep them on their heels. Before the enemy makes a move, before the element of chance or the unexpected actions of your opponents can ruin your plans, you make an aggressive move to seize the initiative. You then keep up a relentless pressure, exploiting this momentary advantage to the fullest. You do not wait for opportunities to open up; you make them yourself. If you are the weaker side, this will often more than level the playing field. Keeping your enemies on the defensive and in react mode will have a demoralizing effect on them.

Shift the battlefield. An enemy naturally wants to fight you on familiar terrain. Terrain in this sense means all of the details of the battle–the time and place, exactly what is being fought over, who is involved in the struggle, and so on. By subtly shifting your enemies into places and situations that are not familiar to them, you control the dynamic. Without realizing what is happening, your opponents find themselves fighting on your terms.

Compel mistakes. Your enemies depend on executing a strategy that plays to their advantages, that has worked in the past. Your task is twofold: to fight the battle in such a way that they cannot bring their strength or strategy into play and to create such a level of frustration that they make mistakes in the process. You do not give them enough time to do anything; you play to their emotional weaknesses, making them as irritable as possible; you bait them into deadly traps. It is less your action than their missteps that give you control.

Assume passive control. The ultimate form of domination is to make those on the other side think they are the ones in control. Believing they are in command, they are less likely to resist you or become defensive. You create this impression by moving with the energy of the other side, giving ground but slowly and subtly diverting them in the direction you desire. It is often the best way to control the overly aggressive and the passive-aggressive. One who excels at warfare compels men and is not compelled by others. –Sun-tzu (fourth century B.C.) HISTORICAL EXAMPLES

1. By the end of 1940, British forces in the Middle East had been able to secure their position in Egypt and take back a good part of Libya that the Italians (an ally of Germany) had seized early in World War II. Having captured the important port town of Benghazi, the British were poised to advance farther west, all the way to Tripoli, allowing them to push the Italians out of the country for good. Then, unexpectedly, a halt was called in their advance. General Archibald Wavell, commander in chief of British forces in the Middle East, was waging battle on too many fronts. Since the Italians had proved themselves to be rather inept in desert warfare, the British felt they could afford to create a defensive line in Libya, build up their forces in Egypt, and launch a major offensive against the Italians by April of the following year. News that a German armored brigade under the leadership of General Erwin Rommel had arrived in Tripoli in February 1941 did not alter the British plans. Rommel had been a superb commander during the blitzkrieg in France the previous year. But here he was under Italian command, dependent on the incompetent Italians for supplies, and his force was too small to make the British nervous. In addition, intelligence reports revealed that Hitler had sent him there with orders to do no more than block the British from advancing to Tripoli. Then, without warning, at the end of March 1941, Rommel’s tanks swept eastward. Rommel had broken up his small force into columns, and he hurled them in so many directions against the British defensive line that it was hard to fathom his intentions. These mechanized columns moved with incredible speed; advancing at night with lights dimmed, time and again they caught their enemy by surprise, suddenly appearing to their flank or rear. As their line was breached in multiple places, the British were compelled to retreat farther and farther east. To Wavell, who was following these events from Cairo, this was downright shocking and humiliating: Rommel was causing chaos with a disproportionately small number of tanks and severe supply limitations. Within a few weeks, the Germans had advanced to the border of Egypt. What was most devastating about this offensive was the novel way in which Rommel fought. He used the desert as if it were an ocean. Despite supply problems and the difficult terrain, he kept his tanks in perpetual motion. The British could not let up their guard for a moment, and this mentally exhausted them. But his movements, though seemingly random, were always for a purpose. If he wanted to take a particular city, he would head in the opposite direction, then circle and attack from an unexpected side. He brought along an armada of trucks to kick up enough dust so that the British could not see where he was headed and to give the impression of a much larger force than was actually on the attack. Rommel would ride with the front line, risking death so that he could make rapid judgments on the move, sending his columns here and there before the British had time to figure out the game. And he used his tanks in the opposite way of the British, to deadly effect. Instead of pushing them forward to punch holes in the enemy lines, he would send out his weakest tanks, then have them retreat at first contact; the British tanks would invariably swallow the bait and go in pursuit, kicking up so much of their own dust in the process that they would not see they were running straight into a line of German antitank guns. Once a sufficient number of British tanks had been taken out, Rommel would advance again, wreaking havoc behind the British lines. Given the same amount of intelligence, timidity will do a thousand times more damage in war than audacity. CARL VON CLAUSEWITZ, 1780-1831 Kept constantly on their heels, forced to come to rapid decisions in response to Rommel’s moves, the British made endless mistakes. Not knowing where he might show up next, or from what direction, they spread their forces over dangerously vast areas. Before long, at the mere mention that a German column was approaching, Rommel at its head, the British would abandon their positions, even though they greatly outnumbered him. In the end the only thing that stopped him was Hitler’s obsession with Russia, which bled Rommel of the supplies and reinforcements he needed to conquer Egypt. Interpretation This is how Rommel analyzed the situation first confronting him: The enemy had a strong position to the east, which would only get stronger as more supplies and men came from Egypt. Rommel had a much smaller force, and the longer he waited, the more useless it would become. And so he decided to disobey Hitler’s orders, risking his career on a truth he had learned in the blitzkrieg in France: making the first hit against the enemy completely alters the dynamic. If the enemy is the stronger side, it is upsetting and discouraging to be suddenly put on the defensive. Being larger and unprepared makes it harder to organize an orderly retreat. To get his strategy to work, Rommel had to create maximum disorder in the enemy. In the ensuing confusion, the Germans would seem more formidable than they were. Speed, mobility, and surprise–as agents of such chaos–became ends in themselves. Once the enemy was on its heels, a deceptive maneuver–heading one way, then attacking from another–had double the effect. An enemy that is in retreat and without time to think will make endless mistakes if you keep up the pressure. Ultimately, the key to Rommel’s success was to seize the initiative with one bold maneuver, then exploit this momentary advantage to the fullest. Everything in this world conspires to put you on the defensive. At work, your superiors may want the glory for themselves and will discourage you from taking the initiative. People are constantly pushing and attacking you, keeping you in react mode. You are continually reminded of your limitations and what you cannot hope to accomplish. You are made to feel guilty for this and that. Such defensiveness on your part can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before anything, you need to liberate yourself from this feeling. By acting boldly, before others are ready, by moving to seize the initiative, you create your own circumstances rather than simply waiting for what life brings you. Your initial push alters the situation, on your terms. People are made to react to you, making you seem larger and more powerful than may be the case. The respect and fear you inspire will translate into offensive power, a reputation that precedes you. Like Rommel, you must also have a touch of madness: ready to disorient and confuse for its own sake, to keep advancing no matter the circumstance. It is up to you–be constantly defensive or make others feel it instead. When they came to the ford of Xanthus, The eddying river that Zeus begot, Achilles split the Trojans. Half he chased Toward the city, across the plain where yesterday The Greeks had fled from Hector’s shining rage. Hera, to slow this stampede of Trojans, Spread a curtain of fog between them. The others swerved–And found themselves herded into the river. They crashed down into the deep, silver water As it tumbled and roared through its banks. You could hear their screams as they floundered And were whirled around in the eddies. Fire will sometimes cause a swarm of locusts To rise in the air and fly to a river. The fire Keeps coming, burning them instantly, And the insects shrink down into the water. Just so Achilles. And Xanthus’ noisy channel Was clogged with chariots, horses, and men. Achilles wasted no time. Leaving his spear Propped against a tamarisk And holding only his sword, he leapt from the bank Like a spirit from hell bent on slaughter. He struck over and over, in a widening spiral.
2. In 1932, Paramount Pictures, following a craze for gangster films, began production on Night After Night. The film was to star George Raft, who had recently made a name for himself in Scarface. Raft was cast to type as a typical gangster. But Night After Night, in a twist, was to have a comic edge to it. The producer, William Le Baron, was afraid that there was no one in the cast who had a light enough touch to pull this off. Raft, hearing of his concern, suggested he hire Mae West. West was a celebrity in vaudeville and on Broadway, starring in plays she had written. She had made her reputation as a saucy, aggressive blonde with a devastating wit. Hollywood producers had thought of her before, but she was too bawdy for film. And by 1932 she was thirty-nine years old, on the plump side, and considered too old to be making a film debut. Nevertheless, Le Baron was willing to take a risk to liven up the picture. She would create a splash, provide an angle for promotion, then be sent back to Broadway, where she belonged. Paramount offered her a two-month contract at five thousand dollars a week, a generous deal for the times. West happily accepted. At first West was a little difficult. She had been told to lose some weight, but she hated dieting and quickly gave up. Instead she had her hair dyed a rather indecent platinum blond. She hated the script–the dialog was flat and her character unimportant. The part needed to be rewritten, and West offered her services as a writer. Hollywood people were used to dealing with difficult actresses and had a panoply of tactics for taming them, particularly those who wanted their parts rewritten. What was unusual was an actress who offered to rewrite her own lines. Baffled by the request, even from someone who had written for Broadway, the studio executives came back with a firm refusal. Giving her that privilege would set a terrible precedent. West countered by refusing to continue with the film until they let her rewrite the dialog. Paramount boss Adolph Zukor had seen West’s screen test and liked her look and manner. The picture needed her. Zukor had a studio executive take her out to dinner on her birthday to try to cajole her; the goal was to calm her down enough so that they could begin shooting. Once cameras were rolling, he thought, they would find a way to get West to behave. But that night at dinner, West pulled out a check from her handbag and handed it to the executive. It was for twenty thousand dollars, the amount she had earned to that point. She was giving the money back to the studio and, thanking Paramount for the opportunity, told the executive she was leaving for New York the next morning. Zukor, immediately apprised of this news, was caught completely off balance. West seemed willing to lose substantial money, risk a lawsuit for breach of contract, and guarantee that she would never work in Hollywood again. Zukor took another look at the script–perhaps she was right and the dialog was lousy. She would rather give up money and a career than be in an inferior picture! He decided to offer her a compromise: she could write her own dialog, and they would shoot two versions of the movie, one hers, one the studio’s. That would cost a little more, but they would get West on film. If her version was better, which Zukor thought unlikely, that would only improve the picture; if not, they would go with the original version. Paramount couldn’t lose. West accepted the compromise and shooting began. One person, however, was not amused: the director, Archie L. Mayo, a man with an extensive resume. Not only had West changed the script to suit her wisecracking style, she insisted on altering the blocking and camera setups to make the most of her lines. They fought and fought, until one day West refused to go on. She had demanded a shot of her disappearing up some stairs after delivering one of her patented wisecracks. This would give the audience time to laugh. Mayo thought it unnecessary and refused to shoot it. West walked off the set, and production came to a halt. Studio executives agreed that West’s lines had lightened up the picture; let her have her way with the direction and shoot the shot, they told Mayo. They would edit it out later. Production resumed. The other actress in her scenes, Alison Skipworth, had the distinct impression that West was determining the pace of the lines, getting the camera to focus on her, stealing the scene. Protesting that West was taking over the direction of the movie, Skipworth, too, was told not to worry–it would all be fixed in the editing. When it came time to cut the film, however, West had so altered the mood and pace of her scenes that no editing could bring them back to the original; more important, her sense of timing and direction were solid. She had indeed improved the entire picture. The film debuted in October 1932. The reviews were mixed, but almost all agreed that a new star was born. West’s aggressive sexual style and wit fascinated the men in the audience. Though she appeared in just a few scenes, she was the only part of the film anyone seemed to remember. Lines she had written–“I’m a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it”–were quoted endlessl