The best strategy is to prevent stratagems

Strategy has military origins, where a series of skills and abilities were required to organise operations aimed at achieving victory for armies. Nowadays, strategy is discussed in relation to a myriad of topics that, on the surface, seem to have little to do with its military background. Perhaps what they have in common is that the need to be strategic stems from the cost of losing, which can sometimes be unbearable. In other words, strategy arises because we seek the best and most suitable means to guarantee the end goal, whether it be military victory or success in business, politics, or life.

In previous posts, I have analysed four ethical models associated with strategy: deontological, consequentialist, Machiavellian, and virtuous. It is time to take stock. To do so, I will draw on the distinction between strategy and stratagem.

There are several possible definitions of the first term, depending on the field (military, business, politics, game theory, etc.). I will adopt a definition that serves explanatory purposes. Strategy is the art and science of developing a plan and choosing the appropriate means to achieve the proposed goals.

On the other hand, the Spanish Royal Academy of Language defines stratagem as, in its first meaning, “a ruse of war” and, in its second meaning, “cunning, pretence and artful deception”. As can be seen, stratagem also has a military origin. The term “ruse” is defined by the Spanish Royal Academy of Language as “a device, a means skilfully and cleverly employed to achieve some end”.

One possible conclusion seems to be that, according to these definitions, skilful and cunningly employed device is more justified in war than in other areas. In other words, a stratagem in a military context is a ruse and, outside that context, it is artful deception.  The answer may lie in the fact that the objective of war is victory, but if it is not successful, military defeat and its dire consequences ensue. Also, because in military terms, we often talk about enemies and consider scenarios that economists refer to as zero-sum: what they lose, we gain, and vice versa.

Life is richer in nuances than war. People find themselves in situations of cooperation and conflict and develop their life plans to achieve their professional or personal goals. I mentioned in a previous post that we are all philosophers—we ask ourselves questions, we define our alpha and omega—and that we would be better off if we were all strategists. What role do stratagems play?

Here we will see the functionality of the ethical models analysed in previous posts. The deontological strategist condemns the use of stratagems because they have an element of deception. The two maxims of the deontological model are to always tell the truth and keep promises. We should walk a fine line to use a stratagem that complies with these two maxims and leads to success.

The consequentialist strategist evaluates actions based on their results or on the maximisation of a chosen variable – well-being, utility, money, happiness, etc. According to this model, stratagems will be valid depending on the consequences they produce. The key question is whether an artificial deception can be stable over time. A distinction should be made between interactions that occur once or over a longer period or are lifelong. The use of stratagems does not last over time because it increases the risk of being discovered and, therefore, would no longer produce the desired consequences.

The Machiavellian strategist is a specialist in stratagems, but authentic Machiavellianism consists precisely in not being noticed. Their vision is an art of simulation and dissimulation, the highest rule of which is the desire for success. The means are appropriate if they achieve the ends proposed. The Machiavellian strategist makes abundant use of cunning and pretence to achieve their goals. However, like the consequentialist, the passage of time increases the risk that their true actions and intentions may be discovered.

The virtuous strategist has an ambivalent position on stratagems. They can develop skills and dispositions that shape their character and involve pretence or cunning, but within known limits. According to the law of the middle term, virtue lies in moderation, never in excess. Furthermore, according to this view, not everything can be called a virtue; it is a pluralistic view, but not a relativistic one.

In summary, the deontological strategist condemns stratagems; the consequentialist strategist values stratagems based on the consequences they produce, fearing discovery over time; the Machiavellian strategist habitually uses stratagems while pretending not to; and the virtuous strategist may use stratagems, in moderation, but only if they can be considered virtues.

After these reflections, it can be said that the best strategy is to be wary of stratagems.

Strategic tightrope walking

United States President John F. Kennedy declared a naval blockade in Cuba on 22 October 1962, after a week of internal deliberations. The Soviet Union could have reacted to this action by increasing the risk of nuclear conflict to critical levels, which Kennedy believed had a one-third to one-half chance of occurring. After days of tension, statements, and clandestine talks, Khrushchev chose to avoid direct confrontation, withdrawing the missiles from Cuba and returning them to the Soviet Union. This was done in exchange for a promise from the United States to withdraw its missiles from Turkey in the near future. Khrushchev chose to back down after considering the possibility of a nuclear catastrophe.

Dixit and Nalebuff, in their works Thinking Strategically and The Art of Strategy, examine this historical event and explore the idea of strategic tightrope walking. This tactic is based on deliberately creating a risk that is sufficiently intolerable for the opponent that they are induced to eliminate it, thereby complying with our wishes. This is a technique that requires skilful use of credibility and proper risk management, as one might expect, but it can also be a very effective strategy for achieving predetermined goals. 

The classic example of strategic tightrope walking has been the Cold War and the use of nuclear deterrence. To prevent the Soviets from launching a conventional attack against Europe or the United States, it is necessary to expose them to the possibility that the conflict will escalate and a nuclear exchange will occur. The Soviets would proceed more slowly if the risk of pursuing that course increased. The United States and the Soviets would likely offer mutual concessions, despite running a greater risk of escalation.

The increased probability of a conventional conflict escalating should be offset by the decreased probability of initiating a war. If Khrushchev considered the level of risk unacceptable, the use of strategic tightrope walking will be successful. It would have allowed Kennedy to choose a larger threat that is large enough to be effective but small enough to be credible.

Like any other strategic move, its aim is to alter the opponent’s expectations to influence their actions. Therefore, strategic tightrope walking is a type of qualified threat. To use this tactic successfully, it is necessary to understand its distinctive characteristics.

Dixit and Nalebuff ask: First, why not threaten the opponent with the certainty of a terrible outcome, rather than the lesser risk of it happening? Second, how do you determine whether the risk will materialise? Third, what is the appropriate level of risk?

Strategic tightrope walking is the tactic of pushing your opponent to the brink of catastrophe to make them back down. This is an extreme application of the Silver Rule: do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you. The individual eventually gives in to your tactic because they do not want to cause an avoidable disaster.

This strategic tightrope walking bears a resemblance to the chicken game dilemma. In game theory, the chicken game dilemma arises when two drivers are travelling in opposite directions at high speed towards the same point on the same road. Each driver is aware of their car’s reaction time and turning radius, which are assumed to be identical for both competitors. Each must decide when the time comes to swerve. This decision must be made without considering the other driver’s decision, as it is irrevocable. One opponent’s quick decision cannot affect the other.

This chicken dilemma is based on a scenario where there is increasing risk and an outcome that is interdependent on the other player’s decisions in relation to one’s own decisions.  This increasing risk, if both players fail to change their attitude, could lead, in the worst-case scenario, to a collision between the two vehicles, with fatal consequences.

It seems that strategic tightrope walking is an initially more cautious approach, which considers all possible scenarios and selects the one that presents the least risk. In chicken games, with the same game structure, the outcome is uncertain and depends on how the other driver acts compared to the driver in question. The crucial question is: who is the first to give way?

Let us imagine a fragile seven-party agreement, with disparate and even conflicting interests and idiosyncrasies, with another negotiator who holds a position of power—which depends on maintaining this fragile agreement. Here, strategic tightrope walking—and the parties’ risk management—would be combined with the salami tactic. With the threat that the pact will end, one party obtains a concession, with each slice it cuts, no matter how small, having the potential to be the last straw. The key to making this type of threat credible is that none of the parties has exact knowledge of where the dividing line lies.

Strategic tightrope walking involves not only creating a risk, but also carefully keeping the level of that risk under control. Reaching this conclusion does not mean that one must accept the situation and accept the risk of nuclear war. To reduce the risk, it is necessary to address the problem at a more fundamental level, that is, to change the game.

Vicente Montano, Arcane of Princes

In Manuel Martín Rodríguez’s preliminary study of the work Arcano de Príncipes /Arcane of Princes in the edition published by the Spanish Centre for Constitutional Studies/Centro de Estudios Constitucionales, it is argued that Cánovas del Castillo was the first to mention an anonymous manuscript that was a true precursor to Malthus. As Robert S. Smith explains in the article “Spanish Malthusianism in the 17th Century“: “A recent search in the National Library in Madrid has uncovered a manuscript entitled Arcano de Príncipes, which is clearly the work consulted by Cánovas del Castillo, although it is not the copy he used. The manuscript in the National Library bears the name of its author, Captain Vicente Montano, and is dated 19 September 1681.”

Smith adds: “The Arcano de Príncipes is not a treatise on population but rather a compilation of political precepts comparable to the writings of Machiavelli, Bodin and (among Spaniards) Saavedra Fajardo. The essay is dedicated to the Duke of Medinaceli, chamberlain and prime minister of Charles II.” Once again, political philosophers are close to the exercise of power, although they do not wield it, and seek to provide the best advice for the exercise of public responsibilities, a fruitful combination of Theory and Practice.

Next, excerpts from Vicente Montano’s Arcano de Príncipes will be discussed in the style of Estrategia Minerva Blog.

“The surest occupation, and one that brings princes the benefit for which they seek it, is to wage war as soon as the common people begin to discuss the government, for, contenting themselves with talking only about matters pertaining to the public state, they extend their curiosity to abundance, since, once war is waged, they usually buy their daily sustenance, and in this way, having nothing to do but eat, and their thoughts being base and vile, they never raise their spirits to sublime and painful things that might give their princes cause for concern. The satirist Juvenal understood well, in two words, the way to keep it more pleasant, which is to give it bread and festivals, a sentence that applies to all domains” (Vicente Montano, Arcano de Príncipes).

How beautifully expressed in these lines is the universal principle of “panem et circenses” (bread and circuses)! It seems that in Rome they already knew how to manipulate the people based on their appetites. The incisive point made by Captain Montano is that the way to entertain the people was to wage war, which would greatly occupy their conversations, combined with an abundance of food, resulting in minimal problems for the government. A universal recipe for politics, since Juvenal. 

“The present King of France, having recognised that the perpetual governments enjoyed by the Princes of the blood had at other times served as a support to give greater rigour to the concerns of the Kingdom, has divided the provinces in another way, varying their governors and changing them when he sees fit. The dignitaries of a monarchy should not remain in the government of the provinces for life, because when a new successor is appointed, they find it very difficult to relinquish their command” (Vicente Montano, Arcano de Príncipes).

Holding public office for many years gives incumbents a wealth of experience, but, as is often pointed out, there is a greater risk of corruption. If constitutionalism emerged as an approach that sought to affirm that all power had limits in the face of absolutism, democracy implies that public officials must be accountable for their actions. This means explaining the actions taken, justifying them, and being rewarded or punished for them. This is linked to transparency and accountability as inherent characteristics of a democracy of quality.

“There are many traces, maxims, and stratagems that the Prince can use to make the world believe that everything he does is based on reason and justice, without the common people being able to penetrate any of his operations, deceiving even the wisest and most prudent so that they do not recognise the ambiguity of his intentions, however great they may be, dressing his speeches in obscure words and profound concepts, even when he appears to be making himself clearly understood” (Vicente Montano, Arcano de Príncipes).

This paragraph seems to have been written by Machiavelli, who can be interpreted  in different ways, some more elitist, others more republican. One possible reading is that he recommends that rulers engage in simulation and dissimulation to achieve their predetermined objectives, without any necessary link to morality. This is political rationality, which has its own rules and is autonomous from ethics and religion. In this paragraph of Arcano de Príncipes, we sense the Machiavellian Machiavelli giving stark advice. 

“And except for some ministers of the first rank, who share the burden of government, the rest of the subordinates must live as blind as the lowest common people. However, to completely blindfold the vassals, and make them believe that the Prince is working for their greater good and tranquillity, he must flatter them with the peace they have so desired during the war, without them being able to see through this deception. Having already disturbed the peace by the desire for war, he cannot abandon war for the sake of peace, because in peace the vassals do not die except in accordance with the merits of their crimes, but in war, the innocent and the guilty share the same fate” (Vicente Montano, Arcano de Príncipes).

Vicente Montano combines two variables: the role of truth in politics and the strategic use of war and peace. As mentioned above, Arcano de Príncipes is in line with Machiavelli’s thought, where political expediency, and among these, the main one of remaining in power, must guide the actions of the ruler, who must publicly maintain an irreproachable and convincing position, the result of hypocrisy towards their true interests. Using war and peace within political calculations is regrettable but common. Wars often cause many casualties and irreparable damage, and it would be desirable for exceptional situations to elicit exceptional responses. However, this point of view is not always shared.  

Francisco Suárez, on the just cause 

Francisco Suárez is the greatest exponent of 16th-century scholastic philosophy in Spain. He was born in Granada in 1548 and died in Lisbon in 1617. He was a philosopher, theologian, and jurist. He was Jesuit (1564) and he studied in Salamanca and taught theology in Segovia (1571), Valladolid (1576), and Rome (1580). He was Professor of Theology at the Universities of Alcalá (1585) and Salamanca (1593), and in 1597 he went to Coimbra, where he had to take another doctorate in Theology to be able to teach. His works include Metaphysical Disputations/ Disputaciones metafísicas, which was very successful in his time, based on classical and scholastic authors.

This will be followed by a discussion of Francisco Suárez’s just cause theory of war, as reflected in his essay War, Intervention, International Peace/Guerra, intervención, paz internacionalin the style of Estrategia Minerva Blog. 

What are the just titles of war according to natural reason?

“No war can be just unless there is a legitimate and necessary cause. The conclusion is certain and evident. Now this just cause and sufficient reason for war is a grave injury already consummated which can neither be avenged nor otherwise redressed” (Francisco Suárez, Guerra, intervención, paz internacional, IV.1).

Bobbio recalls that the positions that tend to justify all wars are called warmongering; those that tend not to justify any are included in active pacifism and the intermediate ones that approve some and condemn others are just war theories. Precisely, Suárez’s approach is to specify the assumptions under which a war would be just.  

Bobbio affirms two fundamental principles: “the certainty of the criteria for judgement and the impartiality of the judge”.  He concludes that neither of these two principles is respected in the declaration and conduct of a war (Norberto Bobbio, El problema de la guerra y las vías de la paz).

Francisco Suárez’s doctrine of war is that it is only just as an ultima ratio, when other means of compensation, redress, or restoration are not available in cases of of grave injury. It is interesting to think that Clausewitz, the great theorist of strategy, said that “war is a mere continuation of politics by other means”. Strategy and negotiation must be elements that minimise the negative consequences of war. In other words, war, as a bad outcome, can help the parties to move strategically to avoid it.

“Not just any cause is sufficient to justify war, but only that cause which is grave and proportionate to the damage of war. It would be against natural reason to inflict very serious damage for a slight injury. Nor can the judge punish all kinds of offences, but only those which offend against the general peace and the good of the State” (Francisco Suárez, Guerra, intervención, paz internacional, IV.2).

It is associated with prudence, and a principle of justice, that the just cause of war must be serious and proportionate to its damage. However, this is not always the case.  

“Various kinds of injury are the cause of just war; these may be grouped into three chapters. First, when the prince seizes the property of another and refuses to restore it. Second, when without reasonable cause he denies the common rights of peoples, such as the right of transit on public roads and international trade. Thirdly, a grave injury to reputation or honour. These injuries are also sufficient cause for war when they are inflicted on the sovereign himself or on his subjects, for the prince is the guardian of the State and of the citizens” (Francisco Suárez, Guerra, intervención, paz internacional, IV.3).

Translated into more contemporary language, the first scenario would be that of territorial disputes between two States over a particular territory, where issues such as sovereignty, territorial integrity, etc. are mixed. This is a classic source of conflict, which can be handled diplomatically, although it sometimes ends in war.

The second scenario would be a serious violation of human rights, here there would be questions such as whether the issue of interference in internal affairs, whether democracy can be exported or universal jurisdiction of human rights. It could be argued that there are universal, regional and state systems to protect human rights, with many mechanisms for conflict resolution, although in the end a defensive war to protect human rights may be justified.

The third case of serious injury to reputation or honour would not currently be grounds for just cause for war, as there are other mechanisms for protection.  Instead, social networks have popularised the cancel culture, where people are denigrated for their actions or opinions considered politically incorrect.

“The war of the people against their sovereign is not intrinsically evil, even if it is aggressive; the other conditions of just war must, however, be fulfilled for it to be honest. This conclusion is only reached if the prince is a tyrant. It can happen in two ways: first, if the prince is a tyrant in terms of his dominion and power; second, if he is a tyrant only in terms of the way he rules.” (Francisco Suárez, Guerra, intervención, paz internacional, VIII.2).

This distinction of Suárez would be a precedent for the notions established by Max Weber as legitimacy in origin and legitimacy in exercise when dealing with the analysis of power. These words on the conditions of just war against the tyrant follow the medieval tradition of justifying tyrannicide, but give broader coverage by including this struggle within the types of just war.

In the first place, the tyrant is, Suárez clarifies, the one “who obtains the government of a State against the Law, especially if he rules it without justice and according to his will”. Secondly, the tyrant is he “who abuses his power, superiority or force in any concept or matter, or who simply imposes that power and superiority to an extraordinary degree”.

Just war would be a mechanism for protection against the abuse of power. Is war the best mechanism for that purpose? Constitutionalism had that very aim, which looks to counterbalance the different powers. However, there are conceptions of the separation of powers in democratic societies about who should have the last word on the most controversial issues and about whether all issues can be put to a vote. 

As Foucault put it, “politics is the continuation of war by other means”. The growing political polarisation is worrying. Carl Schmitt argued that politics is about benefiting your friends and prejudicing your enemies. This is known as the friend/enemy dialectic. Considering political adversaries as enemies is the first step to strong polarisation, civil conflict, and disunity. Let us hope that politics will find the best means and strategies for a better future and few, if any, just cause for war.

Thucydides, the negotiating power in the Melian dialogue

In the work History of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides narrates the conflicts that took place in Ancient Greece between the polis of Athens and Sparta. He highlights the famous Melian dialogue in which the Athenians -who held an empire- and the Melians -who inhabited the island of Milos- discuss their future relationship.

This dialogue is characterised by the Melians appealing to arguments of justice, equality and neutrality, while the Athenians use the threat of force and unequal resources. It would be an example, among the classics, of what is called real politik.

The Athenians distinguish between arguments of justice -between equals – and appeals to force -between the powerful and the weak-. The Athenians assert that “justice prevails in the human race in circumstances of equality, and that the powerful do what their strength permits and the weak yield to them” (V.89). So  according to the Athenians, the Melians must yield.

The Melians attempt to deliberate, advocating a position of neutrality between Sparta and Athens, but offering friendship. The Melians argue “would you not agree that, remaining neutral, we should be your friends rather than your enemies, but not allies of either side” (V.94).

In a typical response of political realism, the Athenians set their priorities in the relationship with the Melians: 1.- Hatred/Vassalage; 2.- Enmity; 3.- Friendship/Neutrality. Allowing an island to be neutral and friendly is a bad example for the interests of the Athenian empire. From this perspective, the Athenians assert that “your enmity does not harm us so much as your friendship, which is to our vassals a manifest sign of our weakness, while your hatred is a sign of our power” (V.95).

The Athenians’ argument is an appeal to power and force. They do not try to convince the Melians of the advantages of accepting their position. Rather, they make a serious threat, which given the context must have been credible. The Athenians argue that “this is not a contest for you to measure courage on equal terms so as not to suffer dishonour, but the deliberation is rather about your salvation, which consists in not standing up to those who are much stronger” (V.101).

The response of the Melians is to relativise the power of the other side and give more value to the alternative of a confrontation than that of surrender. The Melians assert that “wars present vicissitudes that are more evenly shared than the disproportion of forces would suggest. For us to give in immediately holds out no hope, whereas by giving ourselves up to action there is still hope of standing” (V.102).

This Melian dialogue allows us to address the question of bargaining power. In particular, according to the terminology of the Harvard Method in Getting to yes, from Fisher and Ury, on BATNA. The key element of negotiations is what is the Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement –BATNA-. What is relevant is to identify this BATNA and use it as the yardstick to measure any possible negotiating outcome.

The BATNA marks the worst acceptable outcome of the negotiation. The red line where it is better not to give in. The key is that the better BATNA you have, the more bargaining power a party has. If a party has a strong alternative, it will be able to make greater demands of the other party.

I will now analyse the Melian Dialogue from the perspective of the bargaining power of the parties. The Athenians consider their BATNA to be high because they are powerful and strong. This means that they can conquer the city despite the will of the Melians. The alternatives are the surrender of the Melians or their military defeat.

The Melians try to deliberate and convince the Athenians in terms of equality and justice. Their BATNA is an alliance with Sparta to protect them from Athens. Their alternatives are a lonely and heroic war, an alliance with Sparta, surrender to Athens or compromise with Athens.

From the point of view of strategy, the Athenians failed because they only threatened with force, but did not try to convince the other side of the advantages of being allies. They sought a relationship of vassalage and wanted to impose it through force. The negotiation was about whether they would have to fight to achieve their goals. From today’s perspective, it would be better to have allies than forced vassals.

From the Melians’ point of view, the alternative to negotiating is to ally more strongly with Sparta. The problem with this negotiation is that the alternatives they propose are voluntary surrender or military defeat. These terms are unacceptable to the Melians. The way to improve BATNA is to consolidate and make credible the possible alternatives, particularly the alliance with Sparta. It should also try to deliberate and convince the other side on a principled basis.

Thucydides himself recounts that Athens finally carried out its threat. From this perspective, “the Athenians executed all the Melians of virile age who fell into their hands and reduced the children and women to slavery” (V.116). The Meliansdialogue does not have a happy ending. The powerful wins by making good on their threat to use force. The lesson, from strategy, is that negotiations should enable parties to improve their bargaining power and better results be obtained, in the long run, from principled and convincing arguments.

Breviary for politicians

We continue with the series dedicated to handbooks. This time it is dedicated to Breviary for politicians, published in 1684, attributed to Cardinal Mazarin, or someone close to him. Jules Mazarin was born in Pescina, Italy, in 1602 and died in Vincennes, France, in 1661. He was an Italian cardinal, without being ordained a priest, in the service of the French monarchy who exercised power in the early years of the reign of Louis XIV. He was a politician, diplomat, military officer, and adviser to Louis XIV, and he was responsible – as Prime Minister – for laying the foundations for making France a great European power.

For those interested in politics and strategy, and somewhat mythomaniacal, it is noteworthy that the historical figure who supported and turned Cardinal Mazarin into a statesman was the famous Cardinal Richelieu, whom he replaced in office. Both are presumed to be clever and astute, as well as efficient and reasonable in leading government. Machiavelli‘s pragmatic approach and political realism influence this Breviary for politicians.

The following is a commentary on passages from Cardinal Mazarin’s Breviary for politicians in the style of Estrategia Minerva Blog. It is worth noting that it follows the edition of this work by María Blanco entitled La política del disimulo. Cómo descubrir las artimañas del poder con Mazarinoof Editorial Rosamerónwhich includes the essay of the editor.

Gaining esteem and fame 

“Never forget that anyone is liable to spread rumours about you if you have behaved – or spoken – too freely or rudely in his presence. In this matter, do not trust servants or pages. People look at an isolated incident to generalise; they take advantage of it to spread your bad reputation” (Cardenal Mazarino, Breviario para políticos). 

It is excellent advice to be cautious when speaking and be wary of who might be listening. Rumour-mongers/moral lordscan use past confidences to destroy your image. Your public reputation may be based on a hoax a thousand times repeated. According to the Spanish Royal Academy of Language, a hoax is “false news propagated for some purpose”. It is better to be prudent and leave hoaxes and rumours to others.

“Feign modesty, candour, kindness and perfect equanimity. Be grateful, congratulate, show yourself available, even to those who have done nothing to deserve it” (Cardenal Mazarino, Breviario para políticos). 

If you ever have a responsibility, exercising it with moderation, equanimity, and a willingness to serve the public is essential. Your character must adapt to the circumstances and cultivate, in addition to prudence, the Aristotelian virtues of temperance, justice and courage.

“Refrain from intervening in discussions where opposing points of view clash unless you are absolutely sure you are right and can prove it (Cardenal Mazarino, Breviario para políticos).  

There are two pernicious tendencies: civil war/factionalism that seeks to divide society into irreconcilable camps and want-to-be-right-about-everything. If one is in a position of authority, it is crucial to make dissent and unity compatible.

Gaining each other’s favour 

“Avoid easy promises and granting too many permissions. Be difficult to deceive and circumspect in giving your opinion. But once given, do not change it” (Cardenal Mazarino, Breviario para políticos).

The ideal is to become reliable, credible, and a source of legitimacy. This is a departure from the Machiavellian approach, where the prince would always find an excuse not to keep his word. I disagree with Mazarin that one should never change one’s mind. In some situations, it is wise to rectify.

Avoid hatred 

“If you are relieved of your duties at any time, publicly express your satisfaction, even your gratitude to those who have given you back the peace and quiet to which you aspired so much. Find the most convincing arguments for those listening to you: in this way, you will avoid adding sarcasm to disgrace” (Cardenal Mazarino, Breviario para políticos).

It is relevant in this life to do things with elegance and fair playeven if it is not fashionable or in style. If your public responsibilities end, it is good to look to the future and not to hold grudges from the past. There should be an art and science for resigning and leaving office, which should include, in addition to good manners, always avoiding criticism, especially of superiors, and easing the way for those to come.

Acquiring wisdom 

“In most circumstances, it is better to stand still, to listen to the advice of another and to ponder it long and hard. Do not overestimate the extent of either your words or your actions, and do not take up matters that are useless to you now or later. Do not meddle in other people’s affairs” (Cardenal Mazarino, Breviario para políticos).  

A Spanish politician had responsibilities at different levels of public administration. He made his strategy for handling issues, especially the most complex ones, famous, and his secret was to let time pass. As incredible as it may seem, many issues have been found to be solved in this way before being considered again. 

Another great piece of advice is not to interfere in other people’s affairs because there is a very Latin tendency to solve other people’s lives based on one’s own prejudices and stereotypes. 

From the Baroque period, based on the experience of some of the most powerful politicians of the time, Cardinal Mazarin advises, in summary: to be prudent in speaking and not to trust who might be listening; to feign modesty, kindness and equanimity; to exercise any responsibility with moderation and a desire for public service; and to refrain from intervening in discussions with opposing points of view unless one is sure of being right and can prove it. Finally, he recommends listening to the advice of others, meditating long and hard, and not meddling in other people’s affairs.

The best reading that can be made of Mazarin’s approach is that it may be suitable for politics as well as for other areas of life.

Why are there no nuclear wars?

It is not a frequently asked question, and we certainly hope they never happen, but you have not asked yourselves why nuclear wars have not happened? The answer to this disturbing question can be found in Robert Ayson’s book, Thomas Schelling and the Nuclear Age, which explains the ideas of Thomas Schelling, winner of the 2005 Nobel Prize in Economics, who has made significant contributions to the world of strategy and international relations.

In several of his works, Schelling analyses the issue of nuclear armament from the perspective of strategy. His approach is to make international relations, especially military decisions, eminently strategic territory. Lessons can be learned from his contributions for other strategy development and success areas.

According to Schelling, the key concepts to explain the nuclear age are stability and balance of deterrence. The strategy must be aimed at seeking stability between the parties. This is achieved by the balance of deterrence, which is based on two elements: a) a situation in which the disincentives outweigh the incentives for both sides to initiate war; b) it is “stable” when it is reasonably secure against shocks, alarms and disturbances.

Therefore, initiating conflict must be discouraged and unexpected events, such as a surprise attack, must be prevented. Schelling’s lesson in the nuclear age is that the respective incentives and disincentives condition stability.

In his explanation of nuclear strategy, Ayson alludes to Brodie’s work, which provides the key: “Precisely because there is no defence against the atomic bomb, any party, possessing atomic weapons, threatened with attack, has the ability to impose heavy costs on the attacker”.

The state of equilibrium is produced by ‘mutual fear of retaliation’. The costs of all kinds involved in the use of nuclear weapons discourage an attack for fear of a response, in the form of a counterattack, from the other side.

Equilibrium occurs because both sides have disincentives to initiate an attack, and the costs of taking one on by the other side are very high. Special care must be taken to avoid surprise attacks and unexpected situations that can change the equilibrium.

It can be argued that the equilibrium in the nuclear age has aspects that resemble the prisoner’s dilemmaThus, betrayals by the players have a very high cost for both sides because there is a response rule in the form of a nuclear counterattack. As Poundstone explains, nuclear war would be a case of simultaneous and mutual bombing. As early as 1945, Senator Brien McMahon said: “If there is a nuclear Pearl Harbor, there will not be a jury of statesmen left to study the case” (Poundstone, The Prisoner’s Dilemma).

Schelling’s approach focuses on the role of stability and negotiation in the nuclear age. We could draw some conclusions from his approach: the best strategy is the one that seeks stability, which is guaranteed if the disincentives to conflict are greater than the incentives; the balance of deterrence is produced by fear of retaliation by the other side, which comes at significant cost; the best alternative to an endless arms race is negotiation.

In other words, stability is ensured by the parties’ disincentives to conflict and fear of retaliation, which entails high costs. By discouraging conflict, equilibrium is achieved.

The strategy of conflict

In 1960, the economist Thomas Schelling published his work The Strategy of Conflict with a hitherto unusual approach that opened new horizons. His approach was a new analysis of international relations and other areas, applying game theory methods, a part of Economics that carries out simulations of simple games with two or more participants based on the theory of rational choice.

One of the most interesting points of the book is the conceptual material it leaves  to the reader, which allows for multiple applications. Thus, it describes three types of scenarios: pure conflict, pure cooperation, and conflict/cooperation.

Situations of pure conflict would occur if the interests of the antagonists were completely opposed, only “in the case of war, but of a war tending to the total extermination of the enemy.” Situations of pure cooperation are presented as curious exercises in coordination without communication between the parties. For example, where would you meet someone in Madrid – or London or New York- who has received the same instruction, with whom you cannot communicate. Or imagine that you will win 100 euros if you write down on a piece of paper the way to share it out that matches the other party, where communication is impossible.

Schelling’s message is that most scenarios between human beings are ones of cooperation and conflict where there is a common interest and mutual dependence between the parties. Conflict management is sought with mutually acceptable solutions for mutual interests. Hence, the author concludes that most conflict situations are negotiationable scenarios.

The change brought about by this book is its new approach to strategy as applied to international relations and military issues. Thus, strategy does not refer to “the efficient application of force, but to the exploitation of potential force”. This means that the role of armies has an eminently strategic, rather than a purely combative, significance. On another level, this means that victory does not lie in the hand-to-hand combat of the respective forces, but rather in the expectations of the parties and the possibility of respective influence.

From this perspective, Schelling devotes his attention to the notion of “deterrence” as an important element of international relations. He states that an important distinction must be made here between the application of force and the threat of force. Deterrence relates to the exploitation of potential force. Its purpose is to persuade a potential enemy that it is in its own interest to avoid certain courses of action.

The conclusion is that it is not the use of military force, but the threat – serious and credible – of the use of force that would deter the other side from acting. Here would be the paradox that this theory of deterrence is “a theory of the skillful non-use of military force, for which something more than purely military ingenuity is needed”. That is the way to develop strategy as an art and science and to transform some views on international relations and the role of armies. But it would also have applications in business, politics and even everyday life.

In a passage from his book, Schelling offers a definition of strategy based on several elements:

a) it presupposes the existence of a conflict; b) but assumes a common interest of both adversaries; c) it assumes a rational mode of behaviour; d) it focuses on the fact that what appears to each participant as the best course of action depends on what the other does; e) “strategic behaviour” attempts to influence the other’s decisions by acting on their expectations of how the other’s behaviour relates to their own (Thomas Schelling, The Strategy of Conflict).

How to manage conflict? It seems that this is something we must all deal with in the various spheres of life. In The Strategy of Conflict, Schelling offers a view that was innovative for its time, constructing an analytical framework, based on game theory, to deal with international relations, and at one point he proposes various names for this theory, such as precarious association theory or incomplete antagonism theory.  Perhaps the most successful one is what he called interdependent decision theory. This is the key to the strategy of conflict.

The perfect politician’s handbook

With this post, we will start a series dedicated to handbooks as a reason to reflect on the practical dimensions in specific fields.  One of the meanings of the word “handbook” in the Spanish Royal Academy of Language is “book in which the most substantial aspects of a subject are summarised.” We begin with the Handbook of the perfect politician.

José de Cora Paradela, born in Lugo in 1951, is a prominent Spanish writer and journalist. Throughout his career, he has worked in various media, including news agencies, newspapers, magazines, radio, cinema and television.  In 1991, José de Cora published the book Manual del perfecto político (Handbook of the Perfect Politician) in the editorial Espasa Calpe, in which he discusses on current affairs with humour and Galician irony with more general elements of reflection. Some fragments of this book will be commented below in the style of Minerva Strategy. 

On how to choose subordinates

“If you have the possibility to do so, every time you accept a new collaborator into your circle of work, you are facing one of the most important decisions of your life. That is why it is advisable not to make a mistake because just as a correct choice can be a victory in advance, a wrong one would be tantamount to a defeat beforehand” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político). 

The best advice for building a team is to surround yourself with the best people, even if they are better than the boss, but always with loyalty as a virtue. Teams must be based on quality and must be loyal to values and people as a condition for participating in public affairs.

How intelligence is not essential 

“Political practice has such a mixture of components that it would be utterly stupid to think that the most intelligent man is also best placed for its exercise. Undocumented people, mules, and even oligophrenics have occupied the highest political offices without demerit: in the same way that wise and enlightened people have committed so many atrocities that they would claim to be the work of inferior beings” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político). 

There are different modes of political intelligence. In the History of Ideas, Plato’s Philosopher King is often contrasted with Erasmus of Rotterdam’s virtues of the good Christian prince, with the hypocrisy, shrewdness, and fortitude promoted by Machiavelli. In public life, politicians who can show emotional intelligence towards citizens are often distinguished from those whose maxim of action is to stay in power. 

On how to be subtle

“The dosage of subtlety, knowing when it should be used in a stream or distributed in an eyedropper, is, dear prince, a teaching reserved for experience. It alone will inform you of the qulaities that adorn you in this section; for subtlety, like stature, is received without our intervention, and only by a complicated operation is it possible to modify the quantity of the one and the length of the other.” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político).

We disagree with José de Cora here.  On the one hand, subtlety is commendable for any public servant and should also be for politicians. It is not necessary to offend; it is better to take care of manners and make people think about the underlying issues. Moreover, and more importantly, subtlety can be learned; it is not innate. It is a virtue of rhetoric that can be acquired and for which it is necessary to be trained. 

On how to abbreviate

“Baltasar Gracián’s teachings against long-winded approaches and in favour of brevity in expositions are gold-plated for a politician with aspirations. The sentences that outlive an author and those that are most successful in influencing public opinion must be short and concentrated, like black coffee” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político). 

It used to be said that there were two types of speeches: long speeches and good speeches. Nowadays, with social networks, we are committed to brevity, to the headline, and to summarising our thoughts in 140 characters. Politicians enter into this dynamic and hold press conferences, where journalists “fish” for headlines. Brevity, perhaps, yes, but let’s give space for calm reflection, deliberation, fruitful exchange of opinions, persuading and being persuaded, in short… a public opinion.  

On how to provoke

“One of the aspects of Evita Perón’s personality that most attracted the attention of foreign politicians who knew her, was her taste for provoking and scandalising the interlocutor of the moment, with no other aim than her personal satisfaction at seeing the surprised faces that her outbursts caused” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político). 

One might ask here: to provoke, what for? If the only aim is to attract attention, it would seem to be another form of manipulation. If the provocation has a positive objective and promotes a “free and uninhibited” debate on a given topic, usually far from the spotlight, it could be justified in that case.  

On how to take criticism 

“If you have decided to dive into the waters of public administration, you should bear in mind something as elementary as water for the fish, no matter how well you do it, no matter how many quintals of intelligence distinguish you from the rest of the administrators, no matter how many successes decorate your management, there will always be people who criticise it, who do not feel identified with your way of proceeding and who will criticise you, apart of course from your natural political enemies, those who sit with you in Parliament”. (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político).

A distinction is usually made between destructive criticism -based on negative attacks, often including personal ones- and constructive criticism -where proposals for improvement are made. The latter are the most interesting, and the former tend to contribute little. 

Politicians tend to distinguish between political adversaries and party colleagues, and relations with the latter are much more difficult. Something which, at the time of the Spanish Transition, was summed up by the politician Pío Cabanillas when he said: “Hit the deck, our men are coming!

On how to behave in the face of dismissal 

“The politician who comes to occupy a public office, such as the one that awaits you if nothing stands in your way, must know how to conjugate these three verbs: resign, dismiss, or leave, because inexorably one of them will put an end to your direct contact with power” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político). 

When a politician leaves public office, their phone stops ringing. All those who congratulated them on their appointment evaporated, and only a few close friends communicated with them. It is a good opportunity to read Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, where he distinguishes between friends by affinity and by interest.

On how to maintain greatness in the face of defeat 

“If you have decided to embark on the tortuous path of politics, you should know from the outset that there is no such thing as failure, unless you abandon this activity through force majeure or of your own free will. As long as you are in politics, politics itself will protect you from any doubt as to whether you are a winner or a loser. You always succeed because “being” is synonymous with “winning”. Being in politics is enough” (José de Cora, Manual del perfecto político).

We do not like this approach here by José de Cora.  Unfortunately, there seems to be an abundance of politicians whose only goal is to stay in power and politicians whose only work experience is in politics. A society must be able to find mechanisms to elect the best people to positions of public responsibility. It is a good general principle that these responsibilities should be temporarily limited. It is good to be able to walk away from public affairs, to exercise good accountability, and to be rewarded or punished for governance.

Prisoners of a dilemma

Albert Tucker, a distinguished Princeton mathematician, was invited to give a lecture in 1950 at Stanford University. There, he first posed this dilemma:

“Two men, accused of jointly breaking the law, have been confined by the police in separate rooms. Each is told that:

1- If one of them confesses guilty, but the other does not, the first will receive a reward, … and the second will be punished.

2. If both confess, both will be punished.

At the same time, each has good reason to believe that:

3.- If neither confesses, both will go free.”

Although there was earlier work by Flood and Dresher on the subject, Tucker was the first to christen it the prisoner’s dilemma. The implications of this dilemma are manifold in politics, international relations, economics and even everyday life. The story of how it came about and some of its applications are recorded in the book The Prisoner’s Dilemma by William Poundstone.

In a dilemma, it is often the case that whatever the solution, it involves a loss, a sense of remorse or regret. The prisoner’s dilemma is problematic because it defies common sense, says Poundstone. I will discuss the options and implications of the dilemma below.

There are two options for the two players: cooperate or betray. If player A confesses, he chooses to betray his partner. There are two possibilities: a) that the other player B does the same, then the final result is bad, and both are punished; b) that the other player B does not confess, chooses to cooperate, and then the result is very good for player A -he is rewarded- and bad for player B -he is punished-.

Suppose player A chooses to cooperate and does not confess. There are two possibilities: c) the other player B does the same, then the end result is good – both go free; d) the other player B chooses to betray his partner and chooses to confess, then the result is bad for player A – he is punished – and very good for player B – he is rewarded.

It is one of the most famous strategy games in which the interdependence of the players is vital. Whatever player A does, the final outcome depends on what player B does and vice versa. There is an incentive to betray the other player, but if they both follow that incentive and betray, the outcome is bad for both players. If both cooperate, the result is good, but it is challenging to obtain this outcome because of the incentive to betray and the impossibility of communicating.

Some consider that the prisoner’s dilemma has no solution. Others have pointed to the fact that it varies whether the game is played once or more than once. If played once, there is a solid incentive to betray as long as the other party does not do the same. This cannot be guaranteed and is, therefore, a dilemma.

What is most interesting is whether the prisoner’s dilemma must be played repeatedly. Then, it is how one has come to justify the need for the pact, the agreement between the players. This has been a way of justifying the existence of legal norms that guarantee that agreements will be fulfilled.

In Hobbes‘ State of Nature, there was natural liberty but great insecurity; the law of the strongest ruled. Although there could be cooperative behaviour, there was an incentive to betrayal. This leads to a social pact that guarantees peace and security, ensuring the players cooperate and not betray each other.

In a case where it is discovered that the treasurer of a political party, for many years, has 50 million euros in accounts in Switzerland, there would be a prisoner’s dilemma at some point in this case. At some point in this case, a prisoner’s dilemma scheme would emergeboth parties would have a better outcome if they did not confess and settle, but there is an incentive for betrayal.

The prisoner’s dilemma shows that pacts or agreements must promote cooperative environments. If these do not exist, there is an incentive to betray, which does not guarantee the best outcome because of the interdependence of the moves. If both betray, the outcome is terrible. If both cooperate, the result is good. If one cooperates and the other betrays, the outcome is bad for the former and very good for the latter.

There are many readings and applications of the prisoner’s dilemma. One is that cooperation, in the long run, is best guaranteed by a pact or agreement. It justifies the need for agreements that foster cooperative frameworks.