The February 2011 Education Week
at SOCOM covered many topics, and one of them was press relations. The
organizing committee had invited a panel of reporters, three of whom were CNN,
NPR, and Army Times. The tension was palpable as there is a natural tension if
not antipathy between Special Operations Forces (SOF) and the press as they
work at natural cross purposes. SOF by necessity must maintain security for
multiple reasons. Its tactics, techniques and procedures – that is, how it does
its job – must be kept hidden because intimate knowledge about them allows
other to counter what SOF does and predict where SOF will be. Operationally,
the press must not know what operations are planned nor their timing and
location because, once again, such knowledge can place US military personnel in
danger. The press, in contrast, has a very different set of incentives. Reporters
want information to be free and open, and they get paid for telling a good
story that people want to read or hear. SOF and the warrior culture is inherently
interesting to many because their job is active, visual, and kinetic. Moreover,
SOF generates a pretty much endless stream of interesting stories. The
intersection between SOF and the press gets placed into sharp relief when
considering that military budgets are not guaranteed in the 21st century, and
taxpayers need to know something about SOF if they are going to appreciate the
work they do and continue to fund their activities. Helping young SOF soldiers
to understand the incentives of the press will help them tell reporters what
they need to know without jeopardizing operational security. It’s also
important to know which reporters to trust, which is something that only comes only
through repeated positive interaction.
On the second day of the program,
a Special Forces (SF) Colonel named Fred wanted to have lunch with and meet me.
Fred as it turns out was the guy who in fact issued the official invitation for
me to attend Education Week. So Bob, my quantitative analysis buddy, and I had
lunch with Fred in the Officer’s Club, a building from an earlier, simpler era just
a short walk across some patchy grass away from the meeting hall. He was
younger, quieter, smaller, and more thoughtful than I thought a SF colonel
would be, not that I had met that many, but doubtless he had done something
considerable to achieve his rank. Fred said that he ran an analysis group in
Afghanistan and that he had heard about some advanced analytic techniques that
might be useful there. I knew he was talking about some system dynamics-based, complex social
systems analysis work that I had done for DARPA
a few years ago. The program that funded that work finished with mixed
results, but it was nice that some remembered the work I had done. Then Fred
came right out and asked me, “Would you be interested in coming to Afghanistan
to work for our analysis group? I think your contributions could be very
helpful.” I was taken aback. Bob had of course talked about this, but I didn’t
know that the invitation to Education Week was really kind of a tryout or
evaluation for a much longer engagement. Also, listening to Bob hypothesize
about going to Afghanistan was a heck of a lot different than having a
full-bird, flesh and blood SF colonel issue a semi-official invitation. I
replied that I was certainly interested, but I had a lot of questions. Where
would Bob and I sleep? Fred said the Army provided all that. Would we need
special equipment? The Army would provide it. Would we need special training?
The Army would provide it. How long would we be there? Fred was thinking around
six months. I left that lunch feeling disoriented and confused yet vaguely
flattered and excited.
That night there was a meet-up at
a local Tampa bar for drinks, and all the conference attendees were invited. Of
course, the conference organizers reminded everyone that drinking and driving
was strictly prohibited and that anybody caught would be in a world of hurt,
including loss of security clearance and the career limitations associated with
that. I understood that the same consequences applied to me, but I had to go to
see who was there and what information I could dig up. I was also driving Bob’s
rental, and crashing it drunk would have been, in a word, “bad.” The first
thing I learned is that the journalists are natural raconteurs and
interviewers. They were the easiest to talk to, they were interested in what
you had to say, or at least appeared interested, and their stories were endless
and normally pretty good. I talked a good long while with the reporter from NPR,
who told a few stories about meeting Lara Logan of CBS, who I
always thought was in front of the camera primarily because of her looks rather
than reportorial acumen, but I was informed that she was brave, intelligent,
and a friend of SOF. I also met a guy from the Army Times, who was literally
swaying in front of the bar and asked me if I wanted a drink. I had made a
promise to myself to just nurse one beer for the evening, but I have to admit
that I was tempted. I wondered how he’d get home.
The SOF in attendance were much
tougher nuts to crack. They were pretty easy to identify because they’re
physically fit and stick with their team. The SEALs were the rock stars of the
event because they are comparatively rare compared to SF. Also, they are “pure
shooters,” which means they primarily perform the types of “kinetic,” shooting missions
that SOF like, which involves taking out the bad guys. SF, in contrast,
performs the foreign
internal defense or FID mission, which involves training local indigenous
forces to protect their own country. As a political economist and quantitative
analyst, I think SF are very cool because not only are they very capable
militarily—operating in small, 12-man, Operational
Detachments Alpha (ODAs)—but they also know how to interact with and
motivate local populations. As cool as I think they are though, I came across a
group of some of America’s most elite SF warriors complaining because they didn’t
get the same respect and rock-star status as SEALs. I wanted to give them a pep
talk, but in retrospect opted to keep my mouth shut because they had no idea
who I was and I probably didn’t know what I was talking about anyway. It was
nice to be there, but I was not in that SOF world.
The rest of the week passed
without incident, but I was becoming increasingly nervous at the prospect of
actually going to Afghanistan. I had just started a new job, and how would my
management react to my going? Also how was I going to tell my wife that I was
considering this? Did I really want to spend that long away from my family and
my home? Bob was driving me to the airport, and he was really pressuring me to
go, but at this point, I was getting a little fed up because I knew it was Bob’s
dream to go, but it was mine? Did I really want to go, or was I just caught up
in the excitement? Finally Bob, getting a little bit frustrated with me, asked
me what it would take for me to say yes. I said that I would need to be able to
come back for Christmas if it happened, which I wasn’t sure it would. He then
let me off at the curb and I went into the airport, glad that the conversation
was over because, after thinking about it, I didn’t really want to go to
Afghanistan – at all.
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