Structures that Keep War in Place
Thinking structurally about war is more illuminating than repeating the same old tropes we’ve all been programmed to repeat
In my previous essay, I discussed a way to learn to think structurally in order to understand complex problems more thoroughly (and less simplistically).
This technique, which I learned from a former professor of mine, Howard Richards (author of Letters from Quebec), is this: instead of asking, “Why X?” we should be asking, “Why is the system such that X?”
I showed two examples last time, but now I want to discuss another example in more detail:
Instead of asking, “Why do so many people think that wars are inevitable?” we should ask, “Why is the system such that so many people think that wars are inevitable?”
As with the two examples I discussed in my previous essay, the first phrasing makes it seem that “the inevitability of wars” is just a matter of personal opinion: many (perhaps most) people think that. Why do they think that? What persuades them? Are they right or wrong about it? Etc.
But the second phrasing raises a much more interesting possibility: is it that our system is primed for the inevitability of war? It it our system that makes war look inevitable? And, if so, could we change our system? Could we even change it in a way that makes war no longer inevitable?
The crucially important point here is that the inevitability of war has been constructed. It is both a paradigm or patterned way of thinking and a social construction.
As a paradigm, the “inevitability of war” is a pattern of thought that has been constructed and that many people have absorbed into their own thinking. But people only think that wars are inevitable because of how this pattern of thought has been constructed. We are taught that humans are violent by nature and have always had wars, but neither of these claims is likely to be true, as argued by William Ury in his book, The Third Side. We are taught that war is “the last resort,” suggesting that if all else fails, war will always work. But, in reality, sometimes wars are lost and so they don’t “work” for the losing side; and other times there may be no clear winners at all. And so is war really “the last resort”? It can further be argued that what ends wars is not that the fighting itself gains anything, but that at some point the leaders get tired of all the fighting and finally agree to negotiate: and so it is the negotiation that ends the war. War is not the last resort: negotiation is. Negotiation is, of course, often the first resort as well. And so war is just an interruption of the attempt to negotiate. It marks the failure of the first attempt to negotiate. It is a flash of senseless mayhem and destruction until leaders are ready to try again to negotiate.
Even though the paradigm that “wars are inevitable” is highly questionable, it persists. It persistence can perhaps be explained by the fact that we have also socially and physically constructed the “inevitability” of war. We have done this by producing the weapons of war (at great expense), and by creating standing armies. Many people are trained and stand in readiness to be called into war. This preparation for war then creates the expectation that all of the effort, time, materials, and money that have gone into this preparation has a reason and was not done in vain.
The resulting social and physical construction of the “inevitability” of war also creates the illusion that war is easy. Part of our belief in the inevitability of war is the thought that if a country gets mad enough, or desperate enough, it will “just” go to war. It’s the “natural” response. It’s a powerful reflex, difficult to keep in check. When we think this, we are thinking by analogy of a highly stressed person—when a person is upset enough, it feels easier to just let oneself explode than to try to control oneself. But the analogy actually fails when we consider countries. War is not easy. It does not just spontaneously happen. It requires a well-functioning chain of command operating through the preparation and cooperation of a large number of people, as well as the coordination of massive amounts of material supplies and weapons. It only looks easy because we have created a system of constant war-readiness. Plus it only looks easy to those who don’t have to actually fight the war—which usually includes those who call the wars.
Besides standing armies and an industry of weapons manufacturing, here are additional structures that keep war a highly likely possibility:
Leaders of countries declare wars, but their citizens fight and suffer the consequences of war. This separation of the people who have the power to wage war from the people who enact it and/or suffer its consequences is a very problematic diffusion of responsibility.
We allow individuals (such as arms manufacturers, arms dealers, and military contractors) to profit from war. These individuals then have an incentive to want wars to be fought, to keep their businesses thriving.
Leaders of countries also can profit from war, such as when they are investors in the companies that profit from war. Leaders can personally profit even from the very wars their own countries are involved in!
Revealing these ways that “the inevitability of war” is constructed shows how our thinking is steered in the direction of accepting war even though the paradigm “the inevitability of war” might be grounded in actual falsehoods. And we have both socially and physically constructed structures that try to enact the inevitability of war. By creating these structures, we have drawn the bow, so to speak, and set the arrow. The resulting tension begs for release.
But an even closer look at all of the structures that contribute to this illusion of inevitability reveals an even more disturbing point: we have structured war in a way that a few people benefit from it while most of the rest of us suffer from it.
Given too that wars might no longer be winnable, and that any truly noble objective of war can be gained (and is in fact better gained) nonviolently, there is no good reason for war and war should be abolished.
Since we’ve examined the problem structurally, now we can see possibilities for how war might indeed be abolished:
If we changed the system so that individuals are no longer allowed to personally benefit from war, weapons manufacturing and distribution would very likely decrease. Only those committed to the value of national defense would stay in the business: those seeking to make money would go elsewhere.
Or, if we were eventually to stop producing military weapons altogether, perhaps because those formerly committed to the value of national defense would begin to see that weapons cause more problems than they solve, we would be forced to find other ways to respond to conflict.
If we changed the system such that leaders are no longer allowed to personally benefit from war, either financially or reputationally, the incentive for leaders to call for war would likely decrease. The expense to their countries, as well as the reputational harm of being seen as a bully, would make them more inclined to seek non-military solutions to international conflict.
If we changed the system such that leaders must see for themselves the damage that war does, by taking them to sites of destruction and to hospitals and morgues, to see the real cost of war both to their own people and to the innocents on the “enemy” side, those leaders might become more hesitant to declare war.
If we changed the system such that our preparedness for responding to conflict is not violent but uses nonviolent methods instead, we would have ways to respond to conflict situations other than using military force. Military training could include substantial training in mediation, negotiation, and nonviolent action. Eventually, the latter kind of training might replace military training altogether.
Such structural changes would make war no longer “inevitable” and would even make us better prepared for effective response to conflict, since diplomacy, negotiation, mediation, and other forms of nonviolent action are more effective than violence at restoring or creating truly just structures than violence is.
