Archives For Foreign Affairs & Military

I have a new piece up at War on the Rocks, written in conjunction with Nate Finney and Ben Kohlmann. I situate the Defense Entrepreneurs Forum within the broader context of military history, and answer the question: Does DEF have any significance for the Department of Defense?

My answer is yes; large hierarchical have always depended on informal, peripheral networks to generate fresh thinking. DEF is only the latest iteration of a very long trend. Check it out!

By the way, if you aren’t already following War on the Rocks, you should. My friend Ryan Evans has done a spectacular job launching this resource, which bridges the gap between operations and policy.

Also, the Defense Entrepreneurs Forum has a new permanent website! Check it out.

What I Learned at DEF2013

October 15, 2013 — 2 Comments

As someone who sits on the DEF board, I have a little confession to make: I wasn’t sure this would work.

Ben Kohlmann and his colleagues were already hard at work planning DEF2013 when they invited me onto the board, and I don’t think they knew what they were getting. If they’re the passionate idealists, I’m the detail-minded critic who questions assumptions, pokes holes in plans, and makes himself an all-around pain in the ass. I loved what the DEF board was doing, but I also had real concerns about strategy and execution. We had many discussions about these subjects over the past few months, all the way up through the final morning of the conference itself. All that to say, this has been a journey for me.

Now that DEF2013 is over, I’m delighted to call it a success. I’m convinced some of my concerns were valid, but I also need to admit that I was wrong about a lot of things too. DEF2013 stretched me past my limits; it defied almost all military best practices for strategic planning, but it worked amazingly well for precisely that reason.

DEF2013 introduced me to an entirely new way of operating. I’m still sifting through the wreckage of some of my prior beliefs, and trying to figure out what to build in their place. In the meantime, I’d like to share some tentative thoughts about what I learned at DEF2013.

Sometimes the best strategy is anarchy. This principle feels so dangerous to me that I’m having trouble even typing it, but I’m now convinced it’s true. If you want to stimulate creativity and out-of-the-box thinking, a clearly articulated strategy with well-defined goals can be fatal. An ambiguous strategy means flexibility, intensive experimentation, and rapid learning. You don’t want to run an organization that way forever, but during the “discovery” phase or for an organization that requires a creative culture, anarchy can be vital. When Gordon MacKenzie was brought onto Hallmark management to foster innovation, he insisted on the job title “Creative Paradox” and had no formalized list of job responsibilities. He drove senior management crazy, but the very ambiguity about his role is what made him so successful. We need creative paradoxes.

Success can be intangible. Traditional business says, “Show me the return on investment” and traditional military thinking says, “Show me the mission impact.” I can’t do that for DEF2013. I have no idea what the impact will be. What I can tell you is that every single DEF attendee is fired up to do great things in his or her organization, and each of them is now better equipped with tools, experience, and relationships to do that. DEF2013 also ignited a spirit among its attendees. Anyone who has experienced that elusive phenomenon called “morale” should understand what I mean.

Effective leadership takes a diverse team. Most of us know this in the abstract, but it can be challenging when you’re up against hard decisions, the stakes are high, and you have fundamentally different viewpoints and approaches. Still, that negotiation among diverse viewpoints is essential. The bottom line is that teams typically produce better work if they include diverse types of individuals. You need visionaries and critics. You need analysts and artists. You need hammers and you need goofballs. Major kudos to Ben Kohlmann for assembling a diverse team in the DEF board.

Innovation needs the right conditions. Innovation does not happen on its own; studies are clear that creative thinking occurs best in a semi-structured environment. The challenge is knowing what that environment should be. I’m still struggling with that. In one sense, DEF2013 itself created the right conditions for creative thinking on a large scale. Within our small groups, each group differed. We saw failures where the topic was too open-ended or too narrowly tailored. There seems to be a sweet spot in the middle, where the team is focused on a specific topic with specific constraints, but has unlimited freedom within those constraints.

Trust is scary but worth it. DEF2013 was an experiment, and we had to put a lot of trust in our attendees and speakers. A few of us were concerned about the possibility that somebody show up with an axe to grind, who would poison the atmosphere with bitterness or ranting. We didn’t have a single case of that. Without fail, our attendees and speakers were professional, courteous, and interested in positive, collaborative solutions. I also was worried about the Ideation groups, because we didn’t have a clear model for how the groups would work, and I questioned the viability of certain topics. We had to let go of control, and at each stage I was amazed at the teams’ creative problem solving. Some teams spontaneously dissolved and recombined; others took their topics in totally unplanned directions. The results were not at all what I expected, but everybody came through with results that were quite impressive for the compressed timescale.

Diversity is powerful. The military will always be a hierarchical organization for good reason, and subordinates should always respect superiors. But there is a time and a place for setting rank aside (we do it in crew aircraft all the time). DEF attendees wore civilian clothes and their name tags did not indicate rank. Our attendees included Cadet through Brigadier General, a few enlisted, business professors, veterans who became entrepreneurs, entrepreneurs who later commissioned, government civilians, defense contractors, and more. We let those people sit down together in a variety of settings to exchange knowledge and hammer out ideas. That was pretty remarkable to watch.

People thrive when empowered. I’m convinced one main reason people attended DEF2013 is that they feel disempowered. They are frustrated because their voices aren’t being heard. DEF2013 extended the promise that every attendee would have a voice, and it’s amazing how people responded to that promise. Maybe your idea will be a good one, maybe not. Maybe it will see the light of day, maybe it won’t. But the simple knowledge that somebody is respectfully listening to you, and treating you as a valuable source of ideas for the organization, can be life-changing. One of DEF2013’s greatest successes was creating an environment where that held true, and I hope our attendees will spread that culture back to their home units.

Rapid failure, adaptation, and iteration is extremely hard. I wish I could tell you that it was fun leading a small Ideation group, but it mostly wasn’t. My team members themselves were great, but nothing went as I expected. I spent weeks beforehand developing what I thought was a perfect topic for Ideation, and it was a spectacular failure. After an hour, we were gridlocked. We took a break, tried again, and hit another dead end. The next morning, I talked offline with another member about when we should admit failure. We kept at it that afternoon, trying new directions, and finally we found a little gold and started digging. Within the final hour, we developed two actionable ideas that will likely become part of DEF’s future. These ideas had almost nothing to do with our starting place. I’ve never before experienced this degree of failure, iteration, and learning on such a fast timescale. This stuff sounds great in the innovation literature, but actually doing it is hard work. It is emotionally and mentally taxing for somebody accustomed to careful planning processes aimed at clearly defined ends.

Nothing motivates self-starters like relationships. Because of the high barrier to entry, our attendees were all self-starters. It takes a lot of intrinsic motivation to give up a three-day weekend and pay for a trip to Chicago. These are people who will innovate because it’s in their blood, not because someone is dangling an OPR bullet or a quarterly award in front of them. So how do you reward those people? Can you show that you value them, in ways that satisfy their intrinsic motivations? Our Ideation group realized that self-starters are largely motivated by relationships. They want to make a difference in the lives of others, they like to meet other people who appreciate their work, and they like to meet people who can lead them to new opportunities. That is why attendees loved DEF2013; it offered no tangible “reward”, but it connected them with like-minded people and created new opportunities for collaboration. This is not just about “networking” in some pejorative sense of the word; it is about the joy that comes with being part of a living community.

Informality is fun and liberating. One of my favorite moments of the weekend came at the start of our small group presentations. We had a very impressive judging panel, and I was worried about setting poor-quality products in front of them. At the very least, I was expecting some real awkwardness. But then, before the presentations started, a fellow DEF board member showed the audience the prizes: cases of cheap beer with Doctrine Man cartoons taped to them. My fears dissolved in the uproar of laughter. Genius! I thought. It was the perfect way to set the right tone for our presentations. The pressure was off, and we could have fun showing off our half-baked creations and sharing what we’d learned. That is just one small example of the fun we were able to have at a tiny conference on a shoestring budget. And if you’ve never been to a Twitter-enabled conference, the freewheeling audience interaction and sidebar conversations totally transforms the conference experience.

It’s often hard to predict what will succeed and what will fail. It’s kind of amazing; I’ve been studying strategy both informally and formally for years, and I’ve never grasped this fundamental principle until this weekend. We all know von Moltke’s quote that “No plan survives first contact with the enemy”, but that took on a new meaning for me at DEF2013. If you’re doing something that’s never been done before, you simply don’t know if it will work. Carefully planned and executed ideas may crash and burn, and some absurd sketch on a bar napkin may evolve into a major success. So you need to think on your feet, watch for feedback, adapt quickly, and continually try new things. Practicing this in the safe laboratory of DEF2013 probably did as much to prepare me for high-level strategy jobs as any formal strategy course I’ve taken.

For other reflections on DEF2013 see Peter Munson, Joe Byerly and Kristen Rouse.

Day one of DEF2013 is complete, and so far I think we can call it a success! Last night SoFi generously hosted a social for us at a local bar, so I had the opportunity to talk with many of our attendees about their impressions in a relaxed environment. Without fail, everyone was thrilled.

The most common reaction I encountered was gratitude. I found that surprising, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. After all, what would lead a hundred people to shell out a lot of their own money and sacrifice a three-day weekend to attend a work-related conference? Clearly, DEF appealed to something deep within them; it went right to the core of their identity, to that place from which their intrinsic motivation springs. Our attendees are talented and energetic self-starters, which means they are brimming with ideas and thrive on challenge. They want to do good things for their organizations and their country. However, I suspect that almost all of them feel disempowered to do the kind of work they most care about. They have been suffering from the soul-sickness that comes when some of their highest intrinsic motivations go unsatisfied.

For these attendees, the single greatest gift DEF offers is a sense of empowerment. DEF gives them permission to throw out their ideas, to innovate, to experiment, to take risk, to fail without punishment, to get up again swinging. Even if their ideas don’t make it past the starting gate, the sheer freedom to explore these ideas is liberating in its own right. But DEF doesn’t stop there; it holds out the promise that successful innovation IS possible, though the journey can be hard. DEF gives attendees the tools and the mandate to be change-makers in their organizations. Finally, DEF gives attendees a supportive community to encourage them on the way.

I think the gratitude springs from this sense of empowerment.

So what are some highlights from day one? Nate Finney and Roxanne Bras facilitated an excellent group discussion about what defense innovation means, and whether the language of “disruption” is helpful or not. BJ Armstrong and Peter Munson gave excellent presentations about how to effectively create change in large organizations. What I really appreciated about these guys was their class and their professionalism; they are not trying to unleash renegades, but thoughtful and effective professionals who can get things done. That requires competency, relationships, and a lot of “grit”–a word that appears to have now permanently entered the military innovation lexicon.

I also enjoyed our afternoon ideation sessions, in which we explored a variety of problems facing the DoD and brainstormed potential solutions. We generated a lot of good discussion, and all of our attendees are getting hands-on training and practice in leading innovation. We are learning plenty on the way. When DEF is over, I plan to write a post about what I’ve learned personally.

In the meantime, we’re getting ready to launch day 2. Follow our live stream and follow us on Twitter at #DEF2013. You can check out yesterday’s videos on our YouTube page.



This afternoon I arrived at Chicago O’Hare for DEF2013, and enjoyed a lengthy cab ride into downtown Chicago in stop-and-go traffic with fellow strategist and blogger Nate Finney, aka the Barefoot Strategist. Among the many things we talked about were the challenges of blogging as we get older and move along in careers. We are busier than we were as junior officers. We have families. We have greater work responsibilities. We have to be increasingly careful about what we write. And then, of course, there is the intellectual humility that comes with age and experience; we are more careful in our research and thinking, are more concerned with quality over quantity in our writing.

All that to say, I have a lot of excuses for keeping Building Peace on the back burner. Still, I like keeping the blog open and knowing I have a home online.

So what’s been going on?

I’m several months into the School of Advanced Air & Space Studies (SAASS), the Air Force’s year-long school for educating strategists. I love it. I was nervous about attending, because I’ve had such negative experiences with Air Force PME, so it was a delight to discover that SAASS is nothing like any PME course I’ve ever attended. This is a school about how to think, not what to think. I spend my days immersed in good books and in high-level discussion with peers and faculty who love to read and think. For most of my Air Force career, I’ve had to find nooks and crannies of time throughout my day to sneak in a little reading. Now, for this year at least, I’m getting paid to do what I love most: read, think, and write about global affairs. Of course, the program is also a ton of work and takes up most of my time.

Other than time with my family, my outlet from SAASS has been writing fiction. I recently completed a short story set fifteen years in the future in Syria, which I hope will see publication in the next few months. I’m tinkering with some more short stories and my next novel.

Finally, I’ve spent the past seven months on the board of the Defense Entrepreneurs Forum, helping plan the DEF2013 conference in Chicago. Now it’s finally showtime, and we will soon find out what happens when you lock a bunch of passionate and highly motivated emerging leaders together in a conference hall and let them to go to work grinding out ideas. You can tune into our large group sessions via a live stream on our website. In the afternoons, we will break into small Ideation workshops to tackle some specific challenges facing the DoD. It’s been a quite a ride helping plan this event, because nothing like this has ever been done before. Part of me is thrilled to see it come to life; part of me is nervous as hell. This whole thing is one giant experiment, and where there are experiments, there is risk; that is a fundamental truth about disruptive innovation. However, if there’s one thing our military needs today, it is the willingness to assume more risk as we find new and better ways of doing business.

I’m sure we’ll have some learning to do, but I’m equally confident that we’ll see some real value come out of this weekend. In the few short hours I’ve been on the ground in Chicago, it’s already been amazing getting to know people I’ve known online for months or years… people who are passionate about making their military more effective, and who have had the commitment and courage to enter the intellectual arena and defend their ideas in public. As much as I’ve enjoyed our online interactions, there is no substitute for sitting around a dinner table together and putting back a few drinks.

I hope you’ll follow along this weekend via the live stream and our Twitter feed on the #DEF2013 hashtag. You can also follow me personally at @jacobsenmd. Others to follow include: @jbyerly81 @BareftStratgist @benkohlmann @jjgilz @mbgrinberg @kimballray @peterjmunson and @DEFconference.

A couple months ago, I was invited to lead a team of military translators in a June site visit to a partner Arab country.  We would help with military-military relationship building, and pave the way for sales of some military equipment.  It sounded like a fantastic opportunity, so I was more than a little disappointed when the trip was unexpectedly cancelled.  I keep looking for opportunities to use my Arabic/Middle East experience, and they keep falling through.

Fortunately, things have a way of working out.  The cancellation allowed me to participate in an alternative event: a weekend summer camp for Iraqi refugee families living in my local area.  When the last-minute invitation came on Thursday, my wife and I accepted immediately.  The next morning we dropped the kids with their grandparents, then drove to Sacramento to pick up carloads of Iraqi families.  We spent the next three days deep in California’s redwood forest, playing volleyball and basketball, roasting marshmallows over a bonfire, and listening to the stories of families who have spent significant amounts of their lives trying to escape the devastation of war.

During the opening session, the leader told us that we were about to enjoy a wonderful weekend together, and explained that there were three things that had no place in our forest retreat: cell phones, cars, and sectarianism.  You don’t hear that at every summer camp!  The remark met with laughter and murmured approval, in an audience that was half Muslim and half Christian.

By all appearances, these were ordinary families with ordinary lives.  Mothers and fathers sat around in groups chatting, while their kids played sports and laughed and made new friends.  But for many of these families, their circumstances were hardly ordinary.  I met one weary man who had brought his family to the U.S. only five days prior.  Several years ago, he’d made the tragic decision to flee from Iraq… to Syria.  Now his family had been uprooted by war a second time.  It was a little surreal, realizing that his children had probably only ever known life as refugees.  What is recent history to me comprised their entire lives.

Although most of the kids were too busy having fun to reminisce about their lives in Iraq, my wife and I wondered what some of them had seen or suffered.  One young man was eager to talk to anybody who would listen; if I asked him one question, he would respond by talking for ten minutes straight.  Unfortunately, his thick Iraqi accent was almost unintelligible to me.  I only caught moments of meaning, lightning flashes that illuminated the landscape of his life: friends left behind, his schools in Iraq and here in the U.S., the challenges of finding a community where he belonged, an explanation of how he obtained the three-inch scars on his forearms.

I was a little surprised to learn how much depression there is among Iraqi refugees in the U.S.  Many of them struggle to build new lives in an individualistic culture where they do not have deep family and community roots.  Most of us probably assume that these families are delighted to have a new beginning in the U.S., and in truth, I suppose most of them are grateful.  They are the lucky ones.  But the move is a radical disruption from everything they’ve ever known, and many are lonely and homesick.  A few weeks ago, the conference organizer visited a refugee at his home and discovered that he was in the act of preparing to hang himself.  More recently, a refugee family he knows flew back to Iraq… jeopardizing the likelihood of ever gaining American citizenship.

The retreat was a wonderful time, and hopefully a nice change of atmosphere for these families who are doing the hard work of building new lives in the U.S.  I enjoyed using my Arabic to make new friends and hear their stories.  Once again, I was reminded of how important it is for for students and practitioners of foreign affairs to keep on eye on the basic human aspect of these issues.  It’s easy to lose sight of individual lives when we study the affairs of peoples and nations, but these one-on-one encounters provide essential context for understanding our work.

The weekend was also a wake-up call for me about the seriousness of refugee challenges in the Middle East and elsewhere, and the great need for support networks wherever refugees settle.  I tend to think in terms of large-scale government solutions to problems like refugee resettlement, but this weekend I met many quiet, unsung heroes who are doing great things for refugees their local community.

I know I’ve been scarce around here lately, but I’ve been busy helping plan DEF2013… an innovation conference put on by the Defense Entrepreneurs Forum.  I’m also getting ready for my PCS to SAASS.

I have a new post up on the DEF blog, about how military members can work for change within their organizations.  Check it out… then register for DEF, and head on over to the DEF Idea Forum, where you’ll find some great discussion about proposals for defense innovation.


(2/5 stars) I don’t finish very many lousy books; I’m selective about what I read in the first place, and if I don’t like a book, I’ll put it down. The 4-Hour Workweek was an exception. Despite having serious issues with the book, I hung on because I hear about it on nearly a daily basis, and because there were occasional jewels. It is those jewels that get the book a second star, but make no mistake: this book is mostly a fraud.

With a title like “The 4-Hour Work Week”, you know Ferriss is selling snake oil. Just picking the book up off the shelf requires saying to yourself, “I know I’m about to be defrauded, but what the hell.” We want so badly to believe what the author is promising, we pick it up anyway. If the problem was just a punchy title, the book might be tolerable, but there are hundreds of these moments throughout. You’ll be part of the “New Rich”; with a couple weeks of setup, you’ll have a business that turns high profits with zero work; you’ll quickly and easily outsource your entire life to a virtual private assistant in India; you’ll improve your productivity X% by following this one simple tip; you’ll keep a good job and live like a king, while never needing to attend another meeting or talk to another human being again. If you’re a reasonably intelligent person, an inner voice should be telling you “it can’t be that easy”, but you have to squelch that voice in order to keep reading.

Although Ferriss goes to great lengths to insist he is ethical, his is a strange brand of ethics and values. He advocates all manner of deception to shirk work. He advocates advertising and selling products that don’t actually exist yet, to test a market. That’s great for the reader–sitting on a lawn chair on a beach in Rio de Janeiro, saving himself time–but not so great for deceived customers who waste their own precious time placing product orders that the company will, regrettably, be unable to fulfill. Ferriss tells his readers how to become recognized “experts” on anything in a few weeks, by reading one or two books on a given subject and then gathering worthless but impressive-sounding credentials and landing mutually reinforcing interviews as a subject-matter expert. But don’t worry–he explains how this is not actually deceptive. As for the products Ferriss sells and advocates, they reflect a similar concern for quality. Ferriss made his first fortune on an unscientific sports supplement he called a “neural accelerator, marketed infomercial-style by experts… probably of the same pedigree just discussed. Oh, and if you dig around on the net, you’ll find plenty of discussion suggesting that Tim is outright lying to his readers about the business’ profitability. And if you’re still not convinced that the promise of a “four hour work week” is snake oil, check out the bitter reviews written by people who carefully followed his formula to get a “four hour body.”

Ferriss also seems to have a deep disdain for most people, and his entire model is built around minimizing or eliminating human contact in the workplace. If you actually like the people you work with, or feel that taking genuine interest in your coworkers’ lives is a human responsibility and virtue, this book isn’t for you.

What makes all this so unfortunate is that Ferriss really does have something to offer: passion and vision for living a wonderful and unconventional life. Most of us are capable of achieving far more than we dream of, and Tim is an excellent coach for pursuing dreams and overcoming fears. These sections of the book were excellent. He’s also really onto something, when laying out the math of how affordable foreign travel can be. Finally, the book has some genuinely good suggestions for increased productivity.

It’s too bad that to find these jewels, the reader has to slog through hundreds of pages of oversold promises about easy riches. I won’t tell you not to read this book, but before you fall under Ferriss’ spell, go pick up an issue of “Entrepreneur” magazine and a couple biographies of business leaders. You’ll find inspiring stories about people who took control of their lives, but you’ll also find sweat, tears, and a hell of a lot of work.

Defense Entrepreneurs Forum

Writing and publishing Finding Common Ground: Harnessing Disruption for the Good of the Service was a rewarding experience for me.  I was honored to join the conversation about “Disruptive Thinking” and innovation, and my message was well-received (mostly) by all ranks. But the best was yet to come.  Not long after publication, Ben Kohlmann reached out to me.  He and a team of devoted young officers from across all four services were putting together a conference that would move beyond disruptive thinking into the realm of constructive action.  When he invited me to join the board, I leapt at the chance.

I’m thrilled to announce today’s launch of the Defense Entrepreneurs Forum.  Our weekend conference will be unlike anything the military has ever seen, because it is BY and FOR emerging military leaders who care about innovation.

Intrigued?  Here are four easy things you can do right now, which will help spread the word.

– Read the launch essay on Small Wars Journal

– Visit the DEF2013 website and sign up for our email list

– Follow @DefConference on Twitter and engage in discussion

– Like DefConference on Facebook

I’ve always been a geek at heart, and I also try to keep one eye on cyber issues because they’re so important to national security.  So lately I’ve been reading numerous books about networking, computer hacking, and hacktivism.

One of the most intriguing books in this collection is We Are Anonymous: Inside the Hacker World of LulzSec, Anonymous, and the Global Cyber Insurgency by Parmy Olson.  Despite a string of 1-star reviews on Amazon by disgruntled Anonymous members (all curiously posted within a two-day spread shortly after the book’s publication), I thought the book was absolutely riveting.  It is a tour through the digital underground: the IRC chat rooms where attacks are planned and botnets are controlled, message boards where virtual flash mobs are born, and the dark basements where socially alienated teenagers become world-famous hackers.  The exploits themselves are fascinating: social engineering and exploitation, network penetration, data theft, d0xing, denial of service attacks, and many more.  For a nonfiction book, it has plenty of suspense.  I was constantly looking forward to learning what the next attack would be, and enjoyed the progressive revelation of the identities of Anonymous and LulzSec leaders–a subject about which I knew nothing.

The book is also fascinating from a national security and defense standpoint.  It forced me to do some deep thinking about how networks and headless organizations conduct themselves, and how to fight them.  Here are a few of my observations, with the caveat that they are based mostly on this one book.

The author challenges the idea that Anonymous has a powerful hive mind.  In the author’s view, the spread of this belief is one of Anonymous’ greatest feats of social engineering.  In actuality, Anonymous is a brand under which almost anyone can rally, and which has been subject to bitter infighting, splits, and even FBI informing by key members.  Any apparent hive intelligence is less the result of the crowds, and more a result of key leaders or teams within Anonymous.  For example, although hundreds of people participated in some key DDoS attacks, nearly all the computing firepower came from one or two botnet owners.

Following from this, even decentralized networks need leaders.  It’s hard to get anything done otherwise.  It’s interesting that after a period of creative anarchy, some key members of Anonymous broke off to form their own hacking group, LulzSec, which was smaller, more structured, and more disciplined.  Without this kind of centralized structure, groups are mostly limited to lone wolf or one-off attacks.

The very atmosphere of paranoia and anonymity is easy to exploit.  In a virtual environment where nobody knows your real identity, it’s easy for white hat hackers and government officials to roam freely.  The hackers know this, so groups are constantly jumping between communication networks and methods and new, tighter circles of trust are constantly being established and re-established.  As circles slowly expand and trust erodes, new circles form again.  It isn’t easy for groups to function like this.

The author highlights the extent to which core Anonymous hackers manipulated eager wannabes.  During large DDoS attacks, for example, core members encouraged Anons to use free, downloadable software that would allow them to participate in the attacks.  However, they downplayed the legal dangers and didn’t do much to help these less technologically adept recruits mask their identities.  The fun and games were over when the FBI knocked down their doors with arrest warrants.

I had no idea how banal and sordid Anonymous’ beginnings were.  The media plays up the “hacktivist” and libertarian spirit of Anonymous, so I was surprised to hear about the organization’s beginnings on 4chan–within subcommunities that essentially celebrated depravity as a means of escaping boredom.  That included everything from taunting pedophiles, to exploiting and blackmailing young women into sending nude pictures, to swapping photos of appalling violence.  When a new generation of members wanted to steer the hive efforts towards moral or civic goals, they were treated with disdain.  When LulzSec was born, it deliberately rejected crusading and focused on hacking/exploiting for the mere thrill of it.

It’s hard for decentralized organizations to have a coherent vision and mission.  Different individuals and subcommunities came to anonymous with different goals, and these subcommunities could fight bitterly over what they were trying to achieve.  As stated above, libertarian hacktivists collided with those who just hacked to lift themselves out of despair and boredom.

We should be careful when we claim, “it takes a network to fight a network.”  That’s true, but in the defense world, we should only go so far in trying to emulate decentralized networks.  They are fluid and responsive, but they also have severe handicaps.  We should seek hybrid models that allow rapid information sharing and decision-making, but still have strong executive “deciders” who can steer the organization towards a common purpose.

It only takes one mistake to blow your cover.  The Internet is designed in such a way that masking your identity is relatively easy, and a savvy hacker can count on anonymity.  For these reasons, attribution of attacks can be extremely difficult.  However, virtually everything on the net is logged and stored somewhere for future reference, and it only takes the tiniest slip to permanently expose your identity.  In the case of Sabu, one of the core members of LulzSec, a single logon to IRC without his anonymizing software momentarily exposed his IP address. That’s all it took.  So for persistent hackers, it seems like it’s just a matter of time.  Everybody is going to screw up sooner or later.

What you’d expect: many Anons are socially alienated young males living in their mother’s house.  Not all of them, but enough that we can make some hypotheses about why people join groups like Anonymous.  For some it’s really about libertarian ideals and the commitment to the free flow of information, but for others it’s probably not.

Finally, I constantly found myself comparing Anonymous to al-Qa’ida and other jihadi groups.  Not because they pose the same level of threat, but because so many of the organizational dynamics appear to be similar.

Doing disruption right

March 29, 2013 — 5 Comments

IR326 SampleIn my previous post, I told a story about doing disruption the wrong way.  I violated the principles that make disruptive thinking effective, with disastrous consequences.  In this post I’d like to share one time when I really got it right.

When I was a C-17 copilot, Google Earth was still relatively new and pilots in my squadron were trying to put it to work.  It was a great tool for visualizing 3D terrain, especially for airdrop run-ins in Afghanistan’s mountainous terrain.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to use; there was no way to link it to the DOD’s mission planning software (PFPS/FalconView), so pilots had to manually enter coordinates for each point.  I thought there had to be a better way.

I spent the next year developing a powerful software program that would convert PFPS data into a format readable by Google Earth.  By the time I was done, it could map routes, plot threats, and manage large collections of colorful 3D airspace.  I was extremely proud of the finished product, and released it through a slick website that included a PowerPoint briefing and capabilities demonstration.

The PFPS Google Earth Tool met a legitimate need, and spread quickly among the crew force.  Still, there were obstacles.  Google Earth wasn’t authorized on Air Force computers.  Most of us got around this by running GE from thumb drives, back when that was allowed (sort of), but it wasn’t an optimum solution.  It also wasn’t certified; I couldn’t guarantee the output was 100% accurate.  This was a rough tool to assist pilots, but nothing more.

As the tool caught on, I started getting phone calls.  A C-130 pilot had used GE to create orientation videos of the drop zone run-ins used by his unit.  He sent me a disk.  A Pentagon staff officer in charge of procuring geospatial tools wanted to use my work to build his case for procuring Google Earth.  A network administrator offered to migrate the tool to SIPRNET, so it could be used for classified missions.  The most important call came from a Major at a USAFA think tank known as the Institute for Information Technology Applications.  They were developing a suite of mission planning tools called Warfighter’s Edge (WEdge) and were intrigued by my work.  They paid for a TDY out ot USAFA, where I hung out with their coders and briefed the retired 4-star who ran the Institute.

Until this point, the software had been my baby.  I’d developed it singlehandedly, and was excited to see it take hold around the Air Force.  But I also knew that I was hitting the ceiling of my capabilities.  The WEdge team offered resources I didn’t have access to: a budget, an entire team of engineers and programmers, access to higher Air Force leadership, and the ability to get software products certified for Air Force use.  I made the painful decision to give them all my code, and transfer full responsibility for the product to their office.  In the year’s since, WEdge has integrated my work into a tool called WEdge Viewer.  It is now Air Force-sanctioned, certified for flight, and in use throughout the Air Force.

This was a success story, and it was a success because I obeyed the principles laid out in my essay.  I found allies (or rather, they found me).  We were able to persuade higher leaders in the Air Force, because we had an excellent product to “sell” and it was packaged well.  We offered something positive and constructive, that could meet legitimate needs.  My allies were able to work through difficult challenges, like flight certification and authorization for installation on government computers.

Most importantly (and most painfully) I was willing to share credit.  I let others run with my idea, and they made it into something great.  I’ll admit this hasn’t been easy.  The tool is in use across the Air Force now, but even my own peers now don’t know that I designed the initial application.  But hey, I changed something, and that’s pretty awesome.  Change in a large institution is always a team sport.