I was told recently that I had more than a touch of Sun-Tzu to me. At the time, I didn't give it much thought, but having read Robert Greene's The 33 Strategies of War, whether this observation was intended as compliment or insult is even more uncertain.
Greene's War aims to distill the laws of battlefield strategy and psychology into tips and tricks for navigating everyday life. Using a rich battery of examples from the ancient Greeks and Romans to the American Civil War generals, the Viet Cong, and especially Napoleon, Napoleon, Napoleon, Greene illustrates his arguments with examples from, well, war. (He also incorporates numerous examples from Hollywood, particularly of Joan Crawford and Alfred Hitchcock, which make for an interesting juxtaposition with Hannibal and the Mujahideen.) The examples, which provide a fascinating history lesson in themselves - given their depth and breadth I couldn't help but wonder how many hours of research had gone into War - serve to illustrate everything you've been told about life: keep your friends close and your enemies closer; think about the long game; prepare an exit strategy; you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Actions speak louder than words. It's better to go down swinging than looking. It's better to ask forgiveness than permission. Perhaps most importantly, as Greene spells out explicitly, "in life, as in war, nothing ever happens just as you expect it to."
As I reflected on my own actions combatting a former boss, I realized how very well I had practiced many of the arts of war...and why I'd been told I had a touch of Sun-Tzu. Oh, I knew I'd done my work well, but it was only in reading Greene that I understood all the nuances of my actions, not least of which was rendering it a "moral battle for public consumption." (Some might say I had to be crazy like a fox to take on the fight in the first place, but either way, I only brought it to fruition because, after I lost the first round, someone who clearly knew which of my buttons to push asked if I was going tout looking or swinging. Greene would approve of her strategy and my response.) My experience also proved his aphorism that the only way to be truly unorthodox is to imitate no one...refusing to follow common patterns will make it hard for people to guess what you'll do next.
All of which is to say, Green's ideas resonated with me. The last line of his 28th strategy stopped me in my tracks, though: "wise courtiers always seem to be paragons of civilized behavior, encasing their iron fist in a velvet glove." For in the midst of the imbroglio with the boss, a student wrote to me requesting advice as she entered the workplace. I began by telling her she must always advocate for herself; encouraged her to always to fight for herself, her team, and what she knew to be right; told her that when backed into a corner, she could decide whether to go out looking or go out swinging - but that, if swinging, it better be for the fences; and finally, that she should cultivate the art of an iron fist in a velvet glove. Sun-Tzu, indeed.
One final thought: Greene schooled me in geography. Evidently the Rubicon is not the mythological river I inexplicably thought it to be, but an actual, Italian one. Who knew? (Don't answer.)