War 101 - “Rule of Threes”

Over the past 2 decades I had read and practiced cognitive load, decision making under uncertainty etc., and all those time spent came to my rescue when Max was ill. 

For close to 2 years, I kept my intent simple - keeping Max alive and simple tasks to achieve that intent were making sure he eats well, gets enough exercise and this home was peaceful. That's it. Nothing else mattered. 

In a literal sense, nothing else was in my head so that my decision making process is free of any other man made bullshit. I have caught myself making good judgements during crucial stages of Max illness. There was no magic nor miracle but sheer hard work for decades. I knew shit will hit the fan for me like it does for everyone and I needed to be clear headed. 

Brilliant brilliant piece on how the same simple principle's applies to war: 

Modern militaries are usually organized according to the “Rule of Threes.” Three fire teams in a squad, three squads in a platoon, three platoons in a company. Why three? Because under the stress of combat, you can’t really keep more than three things in mind.

In Ukraine, the Rule of Threes will be the most practical organizing principle. First, it ensures clear lines of authority, responsibility, and management. This is critical in ground combat. When you take accurate enemy fire, chaos ensues. To maintain cohesion, your responsibility can’t extend beyond three people, be they team members or unit leaders.

Likewise, according to the Rule of Threes, you should have three tasks: a main task and two supporting tasks. If you have three people under your command, you have someone to cover the main task, and someone to cover each of the supporting tasks. The Rule of Three may sound primitive on paper, but the stress of ground combat will rid you of your fine motor coordination, your peripheral vision, and your ability to think past three. Sticking to “three tasks” reduces friction, keeps things simple, and gives you as little extraneous to deal with as possible—while allowing you to do the most you reasonably can.

[---]

A firefight can last minutes or hours, you say. In a fight, whether we’re attacking or defending, we need to shoot, move, and communicate. We can rotate positions throughout the room and take turns shooting out of this window—that’s the main effort. If that position is taken out, we switch to another window, or another room on this floor, or another floor. If all of our positions are taken out and we’re still alive, we go support another squad.

“If you’re not shooting, you’re moving,” you say, which you remember from this article. “If you’re not moving, you’re communicating—use hand and arm signals if you have to. You need to make sure everyone knows what you’re doing.”

Shooting is important to your new job. But to shoot effectively, other things have to happen. This is why the military loves clichés, acronyms, and profanity: The simpler the slogan, the easier it is to remember, and the easier it is to remember, the better your chances of executing under stress. “Shoot, move, and communicate,” Irina repeats. “Shoot, move, and communicate.” “Shoot, move, and communicate.” She looks at you uncertainly.

“Seriously. ‘Shoot, move, and communicate.’