On duels, wars and trust

Binary thinking corrupts cognition

The Clausewitz Error

At a book event, a conversation with a Clausewitz scholar turned into an unintended demonstration of my argument. We discussed martial arts training, then war theory. I challenged Clausewitz's comparison of war to a duel. The scholar defended it, arguing that war, like a duel, demands absolute commitment and tactical simplicity.

We quickly raised our voices, a mindless example of me making the Clausewitz error!

Our mode of disagreement destroyed the trust between us and closed the possibility of examining a more nuanced view. In trying to argue against reducing war to a duel, I cooperated in doing just that - turning our discussion into a verbal duel. My emotional reaction is a reminder: I keep reducing complex conflict ecosystems to simple face-offs.

Beyond the Duel Mentality

Viewing complex conflicts as duels feeds from multiple cognitive biases. First is temporal myopia—the craving for immediate victories. A duel ends when one party falls; a war continues through generations of consequences. This isn't just impatience—it’s a failure to grasp that conflicts extend beyond immediate contests. The neighbor I am arguing with will not be “vanquished.” He will remain my grumpy, sometimes hostile, neighbor.

What appears to be rational calculation often masks emotional reactions. I crave the duel’s clarity because it simplifies complexity. My opponent, rarely an enlightened master, mirrors this urge, reinforcing a false sense of simplicity.

The hero myth fuels this bias. From John Wick to Dirty Harry, stories give us the illusion that victory is a matter of individual will, when history proves otherwise.

Perhaps most dangerous is binary thinking—the "eliminate X and solve Y" mentality. This mindset ignores how conflicts function in living systems. Removing one element rarely 'solves' anything—it disturbs a web of interdependencies, triggering unpredictable consequences (butterflies everywhere).

Duel vs. War: Different Systems

A duel operates as a closed system - two opponents, clear rules, immediate resolution. War and even lighter forms of conflict, functions as an open system of interdependent networks. Allies, economies, cultures, and even shared norms between enemies form complex trust matrices that determine outcomes.

Simple lesson from the dojo

Training reveals what conference rooms obscure. When practicing randori (free sparring), beginners mistake it for combat. Veteran practitioners understand it's a trust-cooperation game - a jam session where the next session depends on mutual care.

This mirrors nature: what we call "the law of the jungle" is actually evolution's laboratory for trust matrices. When sparring devolves into duel mentality, injury follows. The same principle operates at every scale - from tiger mothers nurturing cubs to eagles protecting eggs. Remove these trust mechanisms, and species die within a generation.

Sport is about controlled competition, duel is about mimesis, but conflict isn't sport and it should never be manage in a mimetic way. It requires managing complex trust matrices, not delusion.

The Strategist's Toolkit

Avoiding the duelist trap requires expanding both perspective and timeline. In the dojo, multiple students at the same time, teach awareness beyond the immediate opponent. Strategy demands the same—mapping entire conflict ecosystems instead of fixating on one adversary.

Capabilities come first—understanding the full range of all sides' competencies. This is no half-court tennis; every player shapes the game, and I must assess their actions in real time.

Next come intentions - not just stated goals (“talking is cheap” etc.) but deeper patterns of behavior and need. Are there overlapping interests beneath surface conflicts? Might there be? It’s a challenge to do this without falling into wishful thinking.

Communication and reciprocity form the third element. Each side must demonstrate both capabilities and intentions clearly. Without reliable feedback loops, trust matrices collapse into misunderstanding.

Finally, seek trust anchors—small, verifiable agreements that stabilize the system. These are not final solutions but stepping stones toward managing complexity and most important, emotions.

The Cuban Missile Crisis illustrates this in action. Kennedy and Khrushchev built a working trust matrix through naval blockades (demonstrating capability), backchannel messages (clarifying intentions), and secret agreements about missiles in Turkey (creating trust anchors). Each element reinforced the others, allowing navigation of near-catastrophic conflict.

Shifting from duel-thinking to trust matrix-awareness is difficult. I’ve felt it firsthand in my Clausewitz-centered academic feud. Changing perspectives, like learning Judo break-falls, requires repeated practice. Falling correctly must become second nature before one can move freely in sparring. The same applies to strategic thinking—without deliberate practice, our default reactions might disappoint.

Emotion regulation opens the door to thinking.