Tuesday, March 3, 2015

The Profession Kindle Notes




Below are the highlights from my 2014 Reading List selection: 

The Profession by Steven Pressfield
You have 10 highlighted passages

You have to lead men sometimes. As unit commander, you have to put words to the bonds of love they feel but may be too embarrassed to speak of—and to the secret aspirations of their hearts, which are invariably selfless and noble. More important, you have to take those actions yourself, first and alone, that they themselves know they should take, but they just haven’t figured it out yet.
Read more at location 366

What Westerners call corruption is just life in 75 percent of the world. Americans still don’t understand this. We think the rest of the planet is like us, or would be if it had the same advantages. We live in a bubble in the States. We make decisions and establish policy based on dream conceptions of the wider universe. We think everyone is the same as we are. We think they want the same things we want. They don’t. They’re not like us at all.
Read more at location 394

As with most technical revolutions, the rise of mercenary forces came about with virtually no legislative or regulatory oversight. The world woke up one day and merc armies were everywhere. Force Insertion quelled one revolt in Nigeria, then another in Mali. The company did it with half-brigade-sized forces that were in and out in ninety days. By August of 2023, I myself had signed up for a tour. My first check was $92,500 for 110 days in the Pankisi gorge in Georgia, protecting the Baku-Ceyhan pipeline. The employer was a consortium of energy companies, including BP, ChevronTexaco, and ConocoPhillips, as well as the governments of Turkey and Azerbaijan, but the actual check came from Force Insertion, drawn on the National Bank of Capetown. You signed a contract two pages long that said you had never been a Communist, Fascist, or Islamist; you waived all rights to compensation for death or dismemberment and repatriation of remains to your country of origin, and you indemnified and held blameless Force Insertion for any acts committed by you or contractors serving beneath you, which might render Force Insertion liable to prosecution before a state-founded or transnational court of law. You had to buy your own clothing, gear, and weapons and provide your own transportation to and from the front. In-theater you received the same medical care as Force Insertion’s highest operatives (which was outstanding), but once you got home you were on your own. It worked. The pipeline stayed safe; the gas went through. Legal and ethical objections were raised, as they should have been. But the shit worked. No one could argue with it. When the crisis in Guinea broke out in ’26, the solution was a no-brainer. U.S. DoD, with the approval of the president and Congress, contracted with Force Insertion for a one-year fee of $11.7 billion to “secure, stabilize, and pacify” the northern four provinces and to “dismantle and disarm” the Amal tribal and AQWA, al-Qaeda in West Africa, and related militias operating with them. Aerial, satellite, and drone
Read more at location 1388

battlespaces were owned by the appropriate arms of the conventional military. The dirt belonged to the mercs.
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Salter commanded. What made these merc forces so effective? In the conventional military, three of the four most dysfunctional operational elements are OPCON, OPFUND, and ROE—Operational Concept, Operational Funding, and Rules of Engagement. The fourth element, OPTEMPO—meaning the speed with which a field unit can execute an operation once it conceives it—is a product of the other three. Force Insertion streamlined all four and made them work. Gone were the eleven levels of clearance that a captain or lieutenant on the ground had to negotiate before he could pull the trigger. One phone call brought the green light—and brought close air support and drone or ground-based fires. Better yet, the definition of an engageable target expanded dramatically. If a suspected enemy stuck his head up, you were cleared to blow it off—man, woman, or child; armed or unarmed. In the realm of funding, Force Insertion operators were supplied with bags of cash and given the latitude to spread it around. Commanders had Lexuses and Range Rovers to pass out as gifts of honor; we could send tribal chieftains’ sons to Atlanta and Houston for surgical operations, get their daughters into Florida State, or set their wives up in condos in Dubai or Miami Beach. On the home front, the single most powerful attraction tool for Force Insertion was the lump-sum million-dollar payout for CDD, Combat Death and Dismemberment. At one stroke, this grant eradicated 99 percent of all family-based risk aversion—and it cut out the weeping widow shot on the evening news. When the conventional military used nukes on Natanz, Kashan, and Anarak in Iran in 2019 in retaliation for the 11/11 dirty-bombing of Long Beach (for which the Iranian Revolutionary Guard supposedly supplied the radioactive bomb-wrapping material), casualty aversion made it impossible to send regular U.S. troops tramping through the contaminated dust of the No-Go Zone. Force Insertion put two centuries on the ground in forty-eight hours. The mercs didn’t care if their nutsacks glowed in the dark; they lined up by the hundreds for the bonuses and incentive pay. Long Beach and the nuclear counterstrike against Iran were what finally made mercenary forces preeminent. After that horror show (and the massive anti-American riots and demonstrations that were ignited in response around
Read more at location 1404

the globe), the conventional U.S. military withdrew all but token forces from the Middle East and Central Asia. Homeland defense became the new Core Mission. A hybrid strategy of counterterrorism (much of it outsourced) and “stand-off containment” replaced counterinsurgency, nation building, and all expeditionary or occupational adventures. The American public had had a bellyful. From now on, power would be projected by naval, air, satellite, and drone technology. The troops would stay home. Into this vacuum flowed mercenary forces. Ground occupation became outsourced, funded at first by DoD in the interest of national security but before long by corporations or consortiums seeking to secure their investments, exploit contracted-for resources, or protect their personnel and infrastructure. Rates of pay became market driven; overnight, salaries shot to double and triple those of the conventional military. Incentives and bonuses made the sign-up packages even more attractive. The exodus from the army, navy, and Marines was spectacular. Applicants queued by the thousands. And these were quality troops—Airborne, Special Forces, SEALs, Rangers, the cream. Average age was thirty-two. Majors were competing for postings as O-2s. Nor was this groundswell limited to grunts and trigger pullers; staff officers, planners, intelligence, tech, and logistics specialists were throwing elbows, greedy to get in the door. Merc had ceased to be a four-letter word. In those most overextended, underresourced, and grimly anti-American times, the president and Congress had at last found a means of projecting U.S. power that was (a) mission-effective, (b) cost-effective, and (c) did not run afoul of the extreme risk aversion of the American people. Were these new for-hire forces alien, treacherous, or unreliable? Hell, no—they were just our same guys, in upgraded uniforms, finally getting paid what they deserved. The final stroke that made the idea of mercenary forces acceptable to the American public was the inclusion of foreign volunteers. The Probst-Avenal Act of 2021, which provided a path to U.S. citizenship for overseas nationals who had served thirty-six months in for-hire combat billets, brought in the cream of veteran warriors from every army on the globe and meant that homegrown U.S. casualties would remain low low low. How good were these contracted forces? Could a mercenary army hold its
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own in a straight-up fight with the conventional U.S. military? Never. Force Insertion, for all its quality of personnel and latitude of maneuver, couldn’t begin to match the technology and transport; the aerial, naval, satellite, and drone capabilities; the intelligence apparatus or the heavy (read, nuclear) weapons systems that could only be funded by entities on the scale of nation-states. Head to head, a private versus national army clash was a no-go. But in certain arenas, in failed-state warfare, in tribal and ethnic conflicts, in contests where restrictive rules of engagement hamstrung conventional operations … in these areas, a merc force could shine. And since these were the areas an empire needed, pay-to-play forces came to be seen in a fresh, new light. The idea of mercs achieved respectability.
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Fourteen hours a day become sixteen and eighteen for me. It is no easy chore to mold a unit, even of mature, proven professionals. I do it the only way I know how: by working twice as hard as everyone else. I’m awake before the first team member opens his eyes, and I don’t knock off till the last one gets his head down. I know every man’s weapons, IADs, SOPs, and TTPs more thoroughly than he does; I can do every job as well as or better than the man assigned to it—and he knows it. Every operator except the Englishman Coombs, Chris Candelaria, and the UAE Special Forces guys has served with me on multiple deployments. They know I will eat my own liver before I will let them down, and they know I will eat their livers if they give me or the team any less than their high-end max. I love them and I tell them. I tell them over and over.
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What enterprise exists is either subsistence farming or narcotics. Cash comes in from outside, not as capital investment—because no First World bank or corporation is reckless enough to take such a risk—but in the form of humanitarian aid, military support, or poison-pill loans from the IMF and the World Bank to fund well-intentioned but artificial projects such as infrastructure construction and rehabilitation—roads and wells, power stations and water purification plants that look great on paper but on the ground are nothing but sinkholes of corruption, with the outside cash flowing into the pockets of whatever tribal or criminal despot lords it over the region. The infrastructure project itself is abandoned halfway through, when the foreign workers bolt because they can’t stand conditions any longer, with only the shell left standing after every item of value has been looted by the locals.
Read more at location 1991

These countries are often called “failed states,” but the truth is they’re not states at all. There’s no source of revenue sufficient for the central government to pay for police or security forces (if these could even be created, which they can’t) to protect the simple, hardworking villagers in the provinces. So the warlords do it, as they have for the last ten thousand years, by extorting money from the locals and shaking down any outside entity via tolls or road or river taxes (and nowadays pipelines), either in the form of institutionalized patronage from whatever Western or Asian buccaneering entity is ripping off the natural resources, or informally by checkpoints and roadblocks at the muzzle end of AK-47s. The regional lords extract protection money from the narco traffickers (most in fact are indistinguishable from narco traffickers) and use this revenue to recruit and fund their militias. The real currency of the nation is hopelessness. If a young man of courage and vision arises, he has two choices: join the gangs or bolt the country. The rare honest man, the stand-up politician, the crusading editor gets his few column inches in the Western press and then is shot, hanged, poisoned, or “detained for his own protection” and never heard from again.
Read more at location 1998

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