Vice Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson's body was on its way to
his final drink of brandy (the barreled preservative in which his body was stored
for burial) 211 years ago this evening.
Mortally wounded in his victory over the Franco-Spanish fleet in the
Battle of Trafalgar, his fabled victory has long been celebrated but not so
carefully examined. A musket round from
a marine aboard the Redoutable had
found its home through Nelson's back, upper spine and right rotator cuff ending
the storied career of this naval tactician.
"They finally succeeded, I am dead," the intrepid Nelson
declared as lead and flesh engaged in their fateful resolution. The engagement left nearly 3,000 dead and
over 4,000 morbidly wounded. Nelson's
divide-to-conquer innovation in light winds but rolling seas - out manned and
out gunned - had succeeded against the traditional battle line of the French
and Spanish.
In the evolution of naval campaigns on the shipping lanes of
the Atlantic, Mediterranean, and Caribbean, naval vans had become the convention
for efficiency of communication. Flying
signal colors down the line made the chain of command literally and
figuratively visible to the fleet. In
the melee of jumbled skirmishes advantaged by winds and the roll of the sea;
fog, smoke and debris could render allied signals obscured or invisible. When sailing in a line, the likelihood of
preserving communication was considerably improved. All the more important in the allied campaign
of the Spanish and French, Nelson knew that he could use this convention to his
advantage if he took a series of calculated - and exceptionally costly - gambles.
On approach, the allied broadside focused their guns on Royal Sovereign which succeeded in
breaking the allied line while destroying the Spanish flagship. The Belleisle
was far less fortunate as she was engaged by four allied broadsides and was rapidly
dismasted leaving her incapacitated. By
sailing into the line as individual vessels, the British fleet was engaged by
as many as four allied ships but, by finding a fighting center in the midst of
3 to 4 enemy ships, the British guns had firing and maneuvering advantage that ultimately
succeeded in what was one of the most lopsided victories in the war.
I've recently reflected on the metaphor of the tactics of
the Battle of Trafalgar. As a person who
has often engaged campaigns with exceedingly long odds, I find the Archimedean
principle of engaging inertial masses from the center of mass a welcome
confirmation of much of my modus operandi. Rather than forcing the disadvantage of
planar engagement, the advantage of circumferential effect - where all
resources can be simultaneously engaged - makes sense. Additionally, I admire Nelson's confidence in
building a battle plan fully dependent on his certainty that the enemy would
appeal to a conventional orthodoxy which, if he challenged, he could radically
disrupt. This, however, was only
effective by: a) deeply knowing the incumbent practices; b) discerning the
environmental conditions in which the engagement was to take place; and, c)
convincing others that convention was their enemy and that innovation would
carry the day.
As is the case with victor-inspired tales, it is tempting to
overlook the considerable disadvantage of Nelson's tactics and justify the
means with the disproportionately celebrated ends. However, this would offer little solace to
the ghosts of this bloody, watery campaign.
The individuation of the British campaign placed the
unprotected bows of the vanguard line-breaking ships at considerable
peril. Once a single ship sails into a
line of 4 to 5 broadsides, the costs can be devastating. Two forward deck guns against a battery of
nearly two hundred means that the line of incumbency will have the early
advantage. When individuation of attack
is selected or celebrated, odds of significant damage at the front are nearly
certain. Sure, the incumbency can blow
through a lot of ammunition but the cost to the intrepid advance is considerable. Once engaged, an agile individual can have
considerable influence but if solo on the approach, the cost can be overwhelming. I find this metaphor compelling in our
increasingly virtualized society. Over
the past several weeks, I've seen many of my dear friends and colleagues strewn
across the world suffering in isolation.
While we pretend that the internet and phones connect us, our
individuation and isolation is inflicting massive casualties - first as direct
harm and second in the form of untimely solace and support. Had the fleet not come to her rescue at the
early minutes of the campaign, the loss of the Belleisle could have demoralized the British fleet at the outset
and turned the tide for the allies.
By breaking the convention of naval battle lines, Nelson
inadvertently harnessed another advantage.
By adding orthogonal approaches to the enemy, he gained an advantage
that few (including him) fully appreciate.
While I would do nothing to diminish his courage and conviction, his
tactics were victorious in part due to statistics. In the face of linear models, orthogonal
(perpendicular and uncorrelated) approaches will always offer improvement to
predicted outcomes. In the case of a
naval campaign, wind, wave, and tide - albeit subtle factors - serve to add litheness
to the uncorrelated performer that linear dependence cannot harness. In our current socioeconomic paradigms, we
bemoan the mean reversion we see in financial products, political quagmires,
and social intransigence but we seldom, if ever, choose orthogonal
engagement. If we feel that our problem
is monetary, we seek a monetary resolution.
If we feel that we're not adequately appreciated, we seek
appreciation. If we suffer from a lack
of labor efficiency, we seek to gain a labor-replacing technology. In other words, our behaviors easily fall
into linear reflexive patterns rather than conscious orthogonal engagements.
Before the end of Trafalgar, Nelson was dead! While his brandy-preserved remains persisted,
his plan did not include his own resilience or persistence. And this is not to be overlooked in his
celebrated heroism. Living for the next
campaign is actually vital if we seek to effect our world in meaningful
ways. And it's here where the greatest
lesson of Trafalgar is often missed. The
semaphore flown as the engagement commenced read, "England expects that
every man will do his duty." The less romantic version of this storied
battle is the most important insight for our efforts. While Nelson's tactics provided the advantage
to the day, the victory was secured by 17,000 people who were having ordinary
days leading up to their extraordinary engagement. Ten percent of them fell - 90% made it. From the Roman Legion to Trafalgar,
decimation is a frequent price for apparent victory. And it's this point that bears the most
scrutiny. We continue to acquiesce to
models of engagement that are based in conflict and require decimation as their
tariff. And while convention suggests
that this is simply a human condition, I wonder if we can, on this chilly
October day consider an approach to our world that doesn't come at the price of
extinction. My guess is that it will
take a couple core elements that we were offered at Trafalgar: collective
discernment; integrity of purpose; and, embedded action.
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