Weak Points and Strong

Adaptation is not synonymous with reaction or concession; it is instead an accordance, a harmony between one’s being and one’s end. This is why life thrives to the degree it is adapted to its environment. Likewise, it is why the victorious business or army wins. In all cases, acting in correct correspondence to the objective reality—as opposed to acting as if reality were different than it is, or acting as if reality is as one thinks it ought to be—results in attaining one’s end insofar as one’s objective is likewise in accordance with the range of possibilities.

To recognize this is to confess to the Taoist conception of being itself: reality is like a river, a constant which is also constantly changing. It has a certain predictable flow, but over time the waters change speed and even location. Sufficient years can change a river’s course miles from whence it originated, and enough time can even split or combine waterways.

That is all to say that the wise general, fighter, businessman, and parent all adapt their strategies to account for the specific realities before them. They do not mistake their abstract categoricals nor their previous successes as fundamental laws governing the things-in-themselves. There are no things-in-themselves, only themselves, and in each cases, a new assessment must be made even when most of the patterns are the same. Former knowledge ought not be taken for granted:

How victory may be produced for them out of the enemy’s own tactics—that is what the multitude cannot comprehend. All men see the tactics whereby I conquer, but what none can see is the strategy out of which victory is evolved.

Do not repeat the tactics which have gained you one victory, but let your methods be regulated by the infinite variety of circumstances. (Sun Tzu 61)

It is not the individual tactics, methods, or actions that is most important, but the principle behind the decision to employ such tactics, methods, or actions. What is Sun Tzu’s principle? Be like water, like the life sustaining substance which occupies a great, coursing river.

Military tactics are like unto water; for water in its natural course runs away from high places and hastens downward. So in war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak.

Water shapes its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe whom he is facing.

Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare there are no constant conditions. (61)

If attaining one’s aim is possible, the proper way toward attaining one’s aim is determined by the landscape, that is, by the incontrovertible factors of the matter. These factors are not things to be merely observed. They must be discovered through examination of the emergent facts resultant from the relationships among oneself, the circumstances, and one’s opponents. One may be in similar condition from one challenge to the next, but the challenge itself may be vastly different. Even if one and one’s challenge are the same as during a previous time, it is possible for one’s competition to bring entirely new variables necessary for consideration. And there are other situational factors as well. Perhaps the challenge is the same, as are oneself and one’s opponent, but the weather is different, or perhaps it’s the stakes which have changed.

That is what Sun Tzu is identifying when he claims, “there are no constant conditions.” It is not to say that there is no order in the universe but that the number of variables and their interactions produce exponential difference and complications of significant variation. Just as a map is always less detailed than what it maps, the real world is more complicated than even the most intricate of theoretical models.

Therefore, proper pathways are to be discovered and rediscovered. Our Maps of Meaning ought to be continually redrawn. If victory is to be guaranteed, one must learn to identify the way in which success is most likely—and that way is through pre-emptive action and learned, not through reaction:

Whoever is first in the field and awaits the coming of the enemy, will be fresh for the fight; whoever is second in the field and has to hasten to battle will arrive exhausted.

Therefore the clever combatant imposes his will on the enemy, but does not allow the enemy’s will to be imposed on him. (58)

By being prepared and acting in accord with the circumstances, one can become one of the very incontrovertible factors which the enemy must react to. In a modern context, this is akin to being an early adopter. The first to see the potential pathway forward, to see where a challenge’s weak points are that they may be exploited, will be the one who properly applies his strength effectively. While his competition is scattered searching for a way to advance, he will be able to muster his full energy in a single direction. It is like a thin line of soldiers being broken by a wedge formation.

By discovering the enemy’s dispositions and remaining invisible ourselves, we can keep our forces concentrated, while the enemy’s must be divided. We can form a single untied body, while the enemy’s must split up into fractions. Hence there will be a whole pitted against separate parts of a whole, which means that we shall be many to the enemy’s few. And if we are able thus to attack an inferior force with a superior one, our opponents will be in dire straits. (58)

Hence that general is skillful in attack whose opponent does not know what to defend; and he is skillful in defense whose opponent does not know what to attack. (58)

In direct competition, one attains victory by doing something unexpected. In indirect competition, one wins by seeing the unseen factors and acting on them first. The blind man must grope in the dark, bumping his head and stubbing his toes until he finally bumbles to where he is going, assuming he ever arrives. But the keen of eye, adjusted to the dark, able to see what was before invisible, is privy to knowing the natural path forward. Such a one moves unmolested toward his objective, for his enemies do not understand the value hierarchy guiding his movements. So free from worry of attack, such a tactician’s men—himself, in the case of an individual—becomes capable of feats impossible under constant stress of threats.

An army may march great distances without distress if it marches through country where the enemy is not. (58)

Thus does one fight without engaging in fighting, by taking the path of least resistance which simultaneously leads to one’s goal. If possible, one ought to avoid an enemy force or competitor, still taking time to learn about him, but not engaging in conflict until victory is already guaranteed. If one chooses subtlety in place of fighting, he can united his energies, march the long distance around his opponents flanks, and appear suddenly ahead of the race when before his opponent assumed him so far behind.

That is adapting to the situation. One must pay attention to what is working and what is not. One must learn of his opponent and his obstacles and where they will be easiest to overcome—then he must rally his own powers and act in accordance with that opening, striking at the right time with the right formation, like a key opens a doorway.

He who can modify his tactics in relation to his opponents and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-born captain. (61)

Sun Tzu. The Art of War, translated by William Ridgeway, Sweetwater Press, 2008.