Sleepwalking through History

On holiday, I read the excellent analysis of the run up to World War One, The Sleepwalkers, by Christopher Clark. It was not an easy read, dense with detail and names and rather long, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. The strength of the book was its refusal to be sensationalist. Characters were explained not in terms of good and evil or smart or dumb, it resisted the urge to become a detective story, and the book also avoided oversimplification.

What emerged was a picture of great complexity. Not only were the relations of many great powers intertwined, but smaller powers had a role as well. Within each power, individuals approached situations with their own slant, influenced by their own perception of national priorities but also personal factors. The media played a key role, as did cultural factors inhibiting clear communication. In an age before e-mail or easy plane transport, time delays played a part as well.

Clark paints an exquisite picture of an earlier time. Characters are impetuous, pompous or plain dumb. Many owed their jobs more to breeding than talent. The Kaiser seems close to certifiable, and we forget that he was cousin to the British king and Russian Czar. The pages of the book are sprinkled with photos of the main characters, often sporting ridiculous regalia and facial hair. But don’t read this book looking for a light comedy or detective story – these facets are not central.

The book does try to explain how the First World War came about, and finds a few root causes. The conflict was far from inevitable, but became steadily more likely owing to a combination of historical trends (such as the decline of the Ottoman’s) and moves with unintended consequences. Somehow a patchwork of interlocking alliances became two opposed blocs, step by step. Most striking is how little skill any player displayed for placing themselves in the shoes of their potential adversaries. Intentions are consistently misjudged, and demands made of other countries that just a little thought could have been seen to be impossible to fulfill.

The book also tries to derive lessons from 1914 that could be applied a hundred years later. Many have compared the current situation around the South China Sea to the European web of alliances of a hundred years ago. But such parallels are always partial and the lessons are always nuanced as well.

What is clear is that wars could happen by accident then and can happen by accident now. Fallible humans, ambiguous goals, culturally inept communications, and especially irrational fears still play a full role in international affairs. The key players may not be Barons and Lords any more but are often just as incompetent and probably even more stressed. While modern communication is faster, it is not necessarily clearer, and human nature always pushes decisions up against deadlines anyway.

I have tried to draw some of my own conclusions from the book. The first is a repeating theme of mine, that of ignorance. I studied this period at school and have subsequently read more about it, but I found myself woefully ignorant of anything resembling a full picture. The formal annexation of Bosnia, the Italian invasion of Libya, the crisis of Agadir: I had vaguely heard of all of these incidents but with no concept of their wider significance. I knew little or nothing of the relevant personalities, or of the political context aside from Britain’s.

I find ignorance a wonderful concept to embrace, and love to be reminded of my own ignorance as often as possible. It keeps me humble and also hungry to learn. What a blessing it is to know that there is enough interesting knowledge out there to fill a thousand or even a million lives, the opportunity to learn is truly endless, individually and collectively. This knowledge also gives me hope for future generations to continue to progress.

Much of my own limited knowledge of the period came from school, and I should note that the conflict was only sixty years ago then, so perspectives were narrower and more patriotic. I should imagine my knowledge of the Second World War is even more coloured for the same reason. As I learned it, characters tended to be either heroes or villains, and the reality is never so simple.

A second lesson is mentioned in the book. It is noted how certain formulations of words can take root and become unchallenged through universal usage. South Slav unity became seen as a reasonable goal in this way, despite it being almost meaningless as a concept. By referring to alliances constantly as defensive, we con our own people, we usually will misinterpret the impressions of others, and we lull ourselves into believing things are less dangerous than they really are. Sound bites and simplification make good journalism and good politics, but they carry significant dangers.

Such laziness is even more prevalent today, especially in the US. Everyone celebrates their freedom without really pausing to consider what it means and how others may be less (or more) free. Putin is displayed as a villain from the Hollywood movie, stifling any sensible thought while also potentially understating his potential for harm. Iran is usually referred to as a sponsor of terrorism, whatever that may actually mean. What is terrorism? Can any nation really claim not to sponsor terrorism?

In the same vein, consider China and its peaceful rise, a ubiquitous but poisonous phrase. The Chinese people believe it and view all the actions of their government through that lens. The Chinese leaders believe it too, and then assume that other nations believe it too, so will not attribute any other intent to their actions. Remote nations may also be too slow in challenging an aggressive intent.

A third lesson is a reminder of the law of unintended consequences. The book brilliantly links seemly independent events, and attributes actions to previous sleights. This feels an accurate description of how things actually occur and how we think. In our personal lives and in our work, we should always assume that anything we do or say will have some consequences that we fail to predict, and be ready to respond when that occurs. That is not a justification for inaction – that can have a consequence too. It is just a reminder to be ready, and perhaps also a message to try to see the world through as many pairs of eyes as possible.

The final lesson is the benefit of complexity. Most of us try to simplify our lives, for good reason, it helps us to find a way forward. It is right to try to reduce complexity, but we should always be aware that things are more complex than we sense, and also note that complexity can be our friend. If there are ten great powers (or for that matter ten family members or business partners), it is usually better that each has a complex relationship with each of the others rather than a simple structure of five versus five. Five versus five often leads to open confrontation. Complexity leads to something more incremental.

So if Obama fails to close Guantanamo or cozies to up Saudi Arabia, we should give him a break and even quietly celebrate. Politics is a complex thing filled with trade offs, some of which we can see and many of which we can’t. And it is just as well that is true, or we might have even more wars. The same applies to your CEO, and probably even to your father.

So, celebrate ignorance and complexity while being suspicious of sound bites and aware of unintended consequences. That doesn’t sound like a recipe for winning Republican primaries or even getting elected as a CEO. Which may help to explain many things about our world, and how much further it still has to improve.