Sheep, Sheepdog, or Wolf?

A coworker of mine sent an e-mail my way that contained the following. For now, I will post it without comment, and allow any of you who read this to think it through on your own. One recommendation: if you read it, read it in its entirety. Some of the points can be misinterpreted if you only read part way.

ON SHEEP, WOLVES, AND SHEEPDOGS

By LTC(RET) Dave Grossman, RANGER,
Ph.D., author of “On Killing.”

Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always,even death itself. The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for? - William J. Bennett - in a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997

One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another.

Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.

Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.

I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me, it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell.

Police officers, soldiers, and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.

“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.

“Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.”

If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf.

But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed

Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools.

But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports, in camouflage fatigues, holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.” Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door.

Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?

Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed, right along with the young ones.

Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.

There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage. Only one. And that is that he is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory crimes of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: Slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself.

Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.

Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people and parents. — from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.

There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men. - Edmund Burke

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.

If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to massacre you and your loved ones.

I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a cop he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down fourteen people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them.

Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?”

It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up.

Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: you didn’t bring your gun, you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by your fear, helplessness and horror at your moment of truth.

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation: “…denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling.”

Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level. And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes.

If you are warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7, for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself…”Baa.”

This business of being a sheep or a sheep dog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other.

Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.

Driven

A short while ago, I was driving home from work. It was a Friday, and everyone seemed to be eager to get a jump on the weekend. As you might guess, traffic was horrendous; a fact made worse because many people were driving erratically and absent-mindedly.

As a drove, I kept coming across drivers that would suddenly switch lanes, who would slowly creep into my lane and then suddenly veer back into their own–in short, I kept coming across a lot of obnoxious drivers. This, in and of itself, is nothing new. Of course we identify anyone driving in a way we deem incomprehensible as obnoxious (or other words that aren’t suitable for this blog).

On this day, however, I found myself suddenly recognizing something. I wasn’t just wary of these drivers: I was actually trying to anticipate them. No, more than that, I was actively trying to control their driving. “Stay in your lane… watch where you’re going…” These were my primary thoughts as I tried to make my way home. What I recognized then, was that I was doing what I keep telling me students not to do: I was trying to anticipate and control things that were unanticipatable and, ultimately, uncontrollable. All the concentation in the world won’t stop that truck from veering into my lane, or cause the SUV to turn its signal on before it changes lanes. When I realized this, I decided upon a different tack: instead of trying to control these other vehicles and drivers, I would simply focus on controlling myself and my own car.

Of course, the combative part of my mind immediately protested. What if I got hit? Isn’t this part of defensive driving? Is this reallytaking that much of my focus? These were the thoughts going through my mind. When I looked at the situation from an aikido perspective, I understood that the answers to these questions were:

1. If I got hit, and it was because I was not paying attention, then it is my fault. But being more concerned about other drivers than myself is most assuredly going to increase the chances of my being in an accident, not decrease it.
2. Defensive driving is not about trying to control your surroundings. It is about controlling yourself and your vehicle despite your surroundings.
3. Anything that detracts from my ability to focus on controlling myself is taking up too much of my concentation. The difference between success and failure, safety and danger, life and death, often is razor-thin.

During the rest of my drive home, I ceased to be concerned about other drivers and other cars. I focused on observing my constantly shifting situation on the road, and ensuring that I was focused on controlling my car as I navigated traffic. I felt, almost immediately, like I had suddenly improved my reaction times by 100%. I did not ignore other drivers, of course; but I did not attempt to anticipate or control them, either.

I think that this simple act of driving home taught me a very interesting and very practical lesson about Aikido. We focus on controlling ourselves regardless of the situation. We do not try to modify or anticipate the situation to suit ourselves. Perhaps this is not a great lesson, or even an interesting idea, but I challenge you to think about your own mindset as you drive home, and see if it has any relevance to your mindset when you are on the mat.

The Way of the Potential Warrior

What drives us to the martial arts?

When I drive home, I count five health clubs, one driving range, and one YMCA–all within a few miles of my house. When I turn on the TV, I see countless adds for home gyms. Certainly, there are countless ways in which I could get in shape. Nearly all of them cost far less than your average dojo membership. And none of them require me to adopt a stricter code of ethics, attempt to understand a different culture’s honor system, or submit myself to yet another authority figure. From an economical and cultural standpoing, it is easy to argue that training in a martial art doesn’t make a lot of sense. It certainly is not the path of least resistance. So why do we do it?

Those who have been training for a while will, if you’re at all like me, immediately trot out the usual suspects of stock answers: we train because it challenges both mind and body. We train because we want to learn how to defend ourselves. We train because we seek discipline. The list goes on and on. Maybe. But nearly any sport can be said to train both mind and body. Very few of us will ever have the need to defend ourselves from physical harm. And discipline can come from nearly anywhere. So while these answers could very well be true, I doubt they paint a complete picture.

Over time, I’ve come up with a theory as to why I train, and why others train as well. The theory is this: we train because we follow one of the most unusual paths possible; one that has only come into existence in today’s modern age. I call this path the Way of the Potential Warrior, and I truly think it is one of the most difficult paths anyone could follow.

Allow me to explain. In ancient Japan (and, indeed, in ancient cultures in general), there was often a clear delineation between those who were expected to fight and those who were not. The samauri were expected to fight; the merchants, famers, and artisans were not. True, in times of great need conscripts would be required, and farmers would leave their fields, pick up a uniform, and fight. If they were lucky, they would even go home again. But after the fighting, these non-warriors would return home, again to focus on their crops and livestock. In short, either your entire existence was focused primarily on the art of war, or it wasn’t, save for a most immediate and dire need to defend your home. After all, trying to exist as a farmer or a merchant took nearly all of your energy. You weren’t worried about protecting yourself per se; you often just didn’t have time.

Today, we still have one part of this ancient system. We still have a group of individuals–armed forces personnell, police officers, and so on–who are dedicated to protecting their surrounding communities or countries. But what about the rest of us? Most of us do not have jobs that, at the end of the day, leave us mentally and physically exhausted. In fact, I would say that many of do not even have jobs that leave us feeling fulfilled. Instead, we go through life as vessels of vast, unused potential. For some, this is not a problem. For others, the fact that we have not reached our full potential drives us to respond in negative ways. Then there are a few of us who, for some unexplained reason, want to take our potential and know that, if needed, we could use it.

Notice that I didn’t say “…want to take our potential and use it.” I only said that, if needed, we could use it. If we really wanted to use our full potential we would strive to find better jobs, or more activities outside of our work that would challenge us, drive us, force us to use our minds and bodies as intently as possible. Some people no doubt do exactly this; but I would argue that these people are in the minority. Instead, most of us just want to know that, when push comes to shove, we can step up and handle things.

This is a paradoxical, complicated, and down-right difficult goal. I have never been a soldier, but I’ll bet that if you were to be a successful one, you would need to constantly train for it. I know this is true because I know people who are or were soldiers. When you’re not in battle, you train and drill constantly. (Note: even those who are reservists train on a constant, if infrequent, basis. And when those reservists are called up, they are not immediately sent into battle, they are sent through training to prepare themselves for the upcoming conflict.) No matter how often you train or drill as a soldier, one thing is clear: you are training for combat. Inevitable, frightening combat.

We do not train this way in martial arts. Oh, to be sure, there are many schools that may gear themselves more for “combat” or street fighting than others, but even that is not the same thing. If we did train this way, the average dojo would be smaller in size, more limited in its demographic, and have a higher injury rate. And this is okay. If we want combat, our efforts are probably better spent in the military or similar force–after all, they have much better tools. We should count ourselves as very fortunate that the vast majority of us do not have to think about putting our lives on the line, and we should be grateful to those who do.

But, nonetheless, because we do not train for combat, we are forced to become Potential Warriors, instead of just Warriors. And this can be very difficult. You have to dig deep inside yourself, every day, to find that part of you that wants to win, to protect, to save. You have to find that part of yourself and shape it, channel it, focus it into something that you can use. You have to do this knowing that the only way you’ll truly be tested is through your own constant vigilance. And you have to do this knowing that, despite your best efforts, when the time comes, it might not be enough.

There is a Japanese saying: “The sword that is never drawn, never rusts.” I believe in this saying, and it forms one of the foundations of my own training. Yet I also believe that you don’t learn how to wield a sword by letting it sit in the corner. I think that this Way of the Potential Warrior is most likely a limited path that eventually leads to a cross-roads: are you a warrior, or are you not? It is extremely important to note that neither of these options is a bad choice. But we must recognize that they are different choices, with different results in our technique and our reasons behind training. On a more personal note, I find that these paths, these choices, can be even more difficult for instructors. Do I force students to follow a path? Or do I attempt to sit at the crossroads, so as to better allow students to decide on their own? Personally, I am trying the latter option, knowing full well it means that those who are truly committed to one path or the other may need to move beyond me and find a new teacher who is focused on their chosen path.

Why is any of this important? Because I think one of the first goals to training is to remove any illusions you have about yourself and your motivations. When we can look at what we do in complete honesty and objectivity, we have the best chance to improve who we are. The Way of the Potential Warrior is difficult at best, but it is far worse if we delude ourselves into thinking we are not on this path to begin with.

A New URL

I’m a relatively lazy person. I think that’s why I practice Aikido: the whole “minimum effort, maximum effect” axiom really sits well with me. There is, in all likelihood, some part of my brain that is realizing just how much time, energy, sweat, and willpower I have expended in the name of “minimum effort, maximum effect.” But we’ll save that topic for later.

At any rate, I bring this up because I had always found typing “www.kokikaisilverfirs.com/aikithoughts” to be a long, tedious process. “Why not just type ‘www.aikithoughts.com’ and be done with it?” I wondered. Well, now I can, and those of you who enjoy reading this can as well.

I also admit that, in the limited capacity I have for marketing and whatnot, I recognize a good name when I see one. Aikithoughts is a nice, simple term, so I thought I’d register it now so I don’t have to rename anything later.

While I’m writing “outside the box” (in this case, writing about stuff other than Aikido, which I try to keep to a minimum here). I have the option of updating the software that runs this blog to automatically send an e-mail when I write a new entry. Most of you, I’m sure, might not care either way. But if this is something that interests you, post a comment here and let me know.

I’ve a new entry drafted up… it should be ready later this week.

Edit: As an avid Google user, I’ve grown accustomed to their customized home page. If you use this tool as well, there is an Add to Google button, located at the bottom of the sidebar on the right, that makes it very easy to add this blog to your homepage. Enjoy!