Streetwise Professor

Yesterday Daria Dugin, the daughter of Russian philosopher and ideologist Alexander Dugin, was killed on a Moscow highway by the detonation of a car bomb. The bomb was apparently intended for her father, who decided at the last minute not to ride with her from an event.

The murder triggered an avalanche of ghoulish, creepy, and frankly disgusting celebration. The only regret that many expressed was that Dugin père was not vaporized. Better luck next time!

The commentary was littered with descriptions of Dugin including “Putin’s brain,” or “Putin’s Rasputin,” and “fascist.” The implication being that Dugin is and has long been Putin’s Svengali, and that Putin has been in Dugin’s thrall. Putin wouldn’t have considered seizing Crimea without Dugin’s suggesting it, dontcha know.

This is illogical, idiocy, and entirely at odds with actual historical facts.

In terms of logic, D saying X and P doing X does not imply that D’s words caused P’s actions.

More generally, to the extent that there are parallels between Dugin’s writings and public statements and Putin’s words and actions, this does not mean that Putin was an acolyte sitting at the master’s feet, an Alexander to Dugin’s Aristotle.

Instead, there is a common root. Dugin’s emphasis on Russian exceptionalism–especially Russians’ supposedly transcendental spiritual mission in existential opposition to a degraded materialist West–and Putin’s expression of similar ideas draws from a very common theme in Russian thought. Think Dostoevsky, for example, or Solzhenitsyn, or the veneration of the supposed “Russian soul.” The examples could be multiplied.

Putin has long sought ideological and philosophical justifications for his politics. Once upon a time–in the mid-2000s, basically–Dugin was the flavor of the month. He was just a fashion that Putin donned for a bit, before moving on. Dugin didn’t shape Putin’s thinking. Instead, Dugin’s thinking was useful to Putin at one time. But the dynamic of Putin’s actions and the logic underlying them are largely independent of Dugin’s writing, and to the extent that they are correlated, it is because they draw inspiration from a common historical source, or from geopolitical forces that Dugin wrote about but did not create. If anything, Putin used Dugin for a while, but Dugin has never used Putin.

Much of Dugin’s writing is rooted in the geopolitical, geographical theories of Mackinder, combined with a distinctly Russian, anti-Western, anti-Enlightenment civilizational perspective. One can explain a lot of what Putin has done, and does, as an expression of the geopolitical and civilizational forces that Dugin wrote about, that doesn’t mean that Putin wouldn’t have done the same thing if Dugin had never existed. In fact, it means the opposite.

In other words, both Dugin’s words and Putin’s actions are the products of common forces and a common history, not the creators thereof.

As for fascism, yes there are points of contact, regarding culture, idealism v. materialism, Romanticism, etc., but the very Russianness of Dugin’s thought makes comparisons to Mussolini let alone Hitler superficial at best, and highly misleading at worst. The historical palette of most American and European commentators is highly limited.

I think of Dugin as the Russian avatar of Huntington’s Clash of Civilizations–and Dugin would probably consider that flattering. The hatred directed at him, and his returning that with interest, reflects that clash.

In other words, like most intellectuals, Dugin isn’t all that important except as an expression and illustration of what produced him. If he had chosen to ride with his daughter yesterday, the future would not have differed a whit, just as he reflected but did not create the past.

If he doesn’t matter, why was he targeted? Well, I am arguing that he shouldn’t matter. That’s different from saying that some people think that he does. The ghoulish gloating and “Putin’s brain” idiocy demonstrates that many do.

Some have weirdly suggested that Putin wants him gone. Er, why? And Putin has found that he can silence opponents by jailing them or tormenting them with judicial processes. No need to create a martyr.

The most likely culprits are Ukrainian. Not necessarily (or even likely) the government. More likely Azov types.

Killing Dugin would perhaps be emotionally satisfying to Ukrainian nationalists, but it would not advance Ukrainian interests in the slightest. Indeed, it would quite likely have the opposite effect, because it would only make the conflict even more existential from the Russian perspective.

To round out the picture of Logan’s antagonism to service academies, it is worth noting that although he was a pre-War Democrat from a part of Illinois (“Little Egypt,” in the far south of the state) that was widely deemed to be sympathetic to the South, post-War Logan was an ardent pro-Reconstruction Republican and one of the most widely renowned practitioners of “bloody shirt” politics. He hated the South with a passion, and this also contributed to his West Point/Annapolis animus.

Logan’s book The Volunteer Soldier in America has a very strong populist, republican (small “r”) tone. Many of his arguments against the academies echo those of Jeffersonians and Jacksonians before him, perhaps not surprisingly given Logan’s upbringing in a staunch Jacksonian area of the country. Logan believed the academies to be anti-republican, aristocratic, and oligarchic in nature, and believed their graduates to be anti-republican and aristocratic in turn. Thus, they were a threat to self-government, whereas a military firmly rooted in the people, through a militia system, would not be.

Logan linked this aristocratic predilection to the South, which he viewed as being aristocratic and anti-republican due to slavery. He believed slavery was incompatible with popular rule, and inevitably led to the dominance of an aristocratic class. He argued that if secession had succeeded, the South would have become a monarchy, not a republic.

This was in turn linked to his view of the pernicious effects of the political nature of academy appointments: anti-republican elements in the country (especially in the South) corrupted the academies, and hence the military, with their appointment of like minded cadets and midshipmen.

Logan also expressed what could be called an early version of capture theory. He argued that the military establishment had captured the government, and as a result was able to extract lavish benefits from it. No doubt this astounded those serving in the 1870s-1880s military, who commonly complained of low pay, glacial promotion, and inadequate numbers.

So I think it’s fair to say that Logan’s anti-academy, anti-professional military views were a combination of bitter personal experience and political populism. In many ways, he was a 19th century expositor of a debate that had raged in the United States since before the founding: did the US need a professional military?; was a professional military a threat to self-government?

Bloody shirt politics became less and less popular after the Hayes-Tilden election, and the end of Reconstruction in 1877. Within a decade Logan was increasingly unpopular, as this print from 1885 shows:

That’s Logan getting booed off the stage. Note the blood-stained shirt hanging on his back.

As an aside, when skimming through Logan’s book I was reminded of the works of a contemporary, and another Civil War veteran, Theodore Ayrault Dodge. Dodge wrote many books on military history, including biographies of Gustavus Adolphus, Hannibal, Alexander, Napoleon, Frederick, and Caesar. In his book on Caesar, he repeatedly lauded the citizen-based Roman armies of the Republic, and compared Caesar’s professional army to them in very unfavorable terms.

Dodge was also a volunteer soldier, losing a leg at Gettysburg–ironically while in O. O. Howards XI Corps. He obviously shared Logan’s beliefs regarding the correct military for a republic, and the superiority of a popular, volunteer army over a professional one.

You can see echoes of these views in modern American politics, especially in this age of resurgent populism–and the reaction against it.

Yesterday I posted a thread on Twitter on the anniversary of one of the most fascinating battles of the Civil War, Hood’s Second Sortie AKA the Battle of Atlanta.

Hood's Second Sortie–The Battle of Atlanta–took place on 22 July 1864. The Union Army of the Tennessee turned in one of the most remarkable performances of the Civil War in fighting off the Confederate assault. pic.twitter.com/ROGcQEVjld

— streetwiseprof (@streetwiseprof) July 22, 2022

As say in the thread, and as I wrote about here in 2010, the performance of the Union Army of the Tennessee was extraordinary. It was assailed from front, flank, and rear, yet gamely hung on and repelled everything thrown at it. In my opinion, in the summer of 1864 the Army of the Tennessee was the finest fighting force of its size in the world. It was battle tried but not battle wearied. It had a core of veterans who had experienced nothing but victory, and had not suffered the debilitating casualties (especially among officers) that had made the Army of the Potomac and even the Army of Northern Virginia shadows of their 1862-1863 selves.

The last tweet in my thread was about General John “Black Jack” Logan, commander of the Army of the Tennessee’s XV Corps, who rallied the shattered center of his line and drove the Confederates back to their lines in Atlanta. (The image in the first tweet in the thread is Don Troiani’s depiction of the culmination of the counterattack, with the 66th Illinois (“Birge’s Sharpshooters”) recapturing the 20 pounder Parrot rifles of DeGress’ Battery H, 1st Illinois Light Artillery.)

James McPherson, the commander of the Army of the Tennessee, was killed during the fighting on 22 July. Logan was named as his replacement–but this was temporary. W. T. Sherman (my Twitter avi :P) distrusted Logan because he was a politician, not a West Pointer. So he named Oliver O. Howard (known to some cynics as “Uh-oh Howard”) as McPherson’s permanent replacement.

Logan was understandably bitter. He had fought with distinction with the Army of the Tennessee or its antecedents from Belmont in November, 1861 through Shiloh, the Vicksburg Campaign (playing a vital role at Champion Hill and the Siege), and the entire Atlanta Campaign. Howard, on the other hand, was a stranger, having come from the Eastern Theater only in October, 1863, and then serving in the Army of the Cumberland. Moreover, he had accumulated a record of failure in the East, seeing his XI Corps routed at Chancellorsville and Gettysburg.

But if they had had USMA class rings back then, Howard could have knocked one, and consequently he got the nod over the man who was likely the most accomplished political general of the war.

In the years after the war, Logan resumed his political career, and was a prominent Senator from Illinois and was the VP candidate on the (failed) Republican ticket in 1884.

During his Senate career, Logan was an outspoken critic of West Point (and the Naval Academy as well). As the leader of volunteers during the Civil War, and as a civilian soldier himself, he was a fervent supporter of Union veterans (being the second commander of the GAR and the moving force behind Memorial Day) and the ideal of the citizen soldier. He believed passionately that an army and navy of–and led by–motivated, patriotic, and talented civilians was far superior to one led by careerists churned out of the service academies.

Near the end of his life, he summarized–if that’s the right word to apply to a 682 page book–his case against the professional military, and professional military education, in his The Volunteer Soldier of America. He made many criticisms of the service academies, but the gravamen of his criticism was that the appointment system (in which every aspiring cadet or midshipman had to secure an appointment from a member of Congress-as is true to this day) meant that the officer corps was selected on the basis of political considerations, rather than merit or military talent. As a result, the military was dominated by unimaginative, unimpressive people. You know, like O. O. Howard. He was also deeply offended by preferences shown to regular officers in terms of pay and retirement benefits.

When you think about it, these are rather remarkable criticisms for a career politician to make. But Logan was extremely serious about them. And his criticisms were thoughtful ones, and backed with not a little evidence. But the real foundation of Logan’s brief was his experience in the Civil War leading volunteers (and arguably the most exceptional group of volunteers 1861-1865) while under the command of West Pointers. He was obviously highly unimpressed.

And understandably outraged at the slight of being supplanted by a plodding professional after almost three years of exceptional service, most notably on 22 July, 1864.

Although deprived of the command of the Army of the Tennessee for the March to the Sea and the Carolinas Campaign, Sherman did give Logan the honor of leading the army during its triumphal procession during the Grand Review in Washington in May, 1865. There, the throng of spectators marveled at Logan’s westerners, and remarked at their height, hardy appearance, and long loping strides (in contrast to the crisp easterners of the Army of the Potomac who had marched the day before).

Logan is third from the right, on the light horse.

Here is the New York Times account:

Immediately following was Maj.-Gen. JOHN A. LOGAN, the successor of Gen. HOWARD, in the command of the Army of the Tennessee, mounted on a superbly dapple grey stallion, which careered and plunged just enough to show the General’s fine horsemanship. LOGAN, with his firm set features, deep black moustache, and military bearing was marked for the most vociferous applause from the very moment his prancing steed appeared on the avenue.

Soon comes the head of the Fifteenth Corps, led by the accomplished HAZEN, the hero of Fort McAllister, and now all eyes turn upon the bronzed veterans while move by with steady, sturdy step. The magnificent physique of the men at once elicits the admiration of all; tall, broad-shouldered, stalwart men, the peasantry of the West — the best material in the whole world for armies. The brigades move by with elastic, springing step, in excellent order, and fully equal to the marching of yesterday, save that the intervals between brigades and divisions were longer, though the regiments themselves were kept well closed up. At the head of each brigade was a battalion of black pioneers, the simon pure contraband, in the garments he wore on the plantation, with shovel and axe on the shoulder, marching with even front, sturdy step and lofty air. The badge of the Fifteenth Corps (for the Western armies have also adopted this insignia) is a cartridge-box, half encircled by the words, “forty rounds.” It is just forty rounds more than is now needed. 

(Two of my ancestors, one in the XV Corps, the other in the XIV Corps, participated in the Review.)

As one of its foes–Joseph E. Johnston–said,  “I made up my mind that there had been no such army since the days of Julius Caesar.“ And every man, and virtually all of the officers, was a volunteer. John Logan thought that it was men such as those, not drones trained on The Plain at West Point, to whom America should trust its defense.

PS. I wrote this post in response to a suggestion from my friend Ty Kelly, who said I should edit Logan’s Wikipedia page to fill out the story in my last tweet. I thought the subject deserved a fuller treatment, hence the post.

Seeing as Friday-Sunday were the 159th anniversary of the three days of the Battle of Gettysburg, I decided to watch the eponymous movie again. It’s long, so I broke up the watching in parts to match the three days, saving the Pickett-Pettigrew-Trimble charge climax for yesterday, 3 July.

I still rate the film as one of the best Civil War movies. Now admittedly, that’s a low bar. There aren’t a lot of great ones. Unlike WWII, Korea or Vietnam movies which can focus on a squad or other small group of men and build on the interpersonal dynamics of men under mortal threat, in the Civil War pretty much the smallest group was the company, which in turn was usually part of a regiment that operated as a unit. That doesn’t lend itself to the same cinematic treatment as say Sands of Iwo Jima or Band of Brothers or Saving Private Ryan. Even WWII movies that focus on big battles, like The Longest Day or A Bridge Too Far, tell the story through the actions of small groups of men.

This is why some of the better Civil War movies involve guerrilla warfare, which involves smaller groups, and which can also utilize tropes from Westerns: Confederate guerrilla bands in Missouri, for example, were the proto-outlaw gangs of the post-Civil War West.

So Gettysburg spends little time focused on the enlisted men: the one main enlisted character, Buster Kilrain, is an everyman foil to the intellectual Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. Instead, most of the film’s main characters are generals–Buford, and especially Lee and Longstreet, with Hancock, Hood, Trimble and Stuart also getting attention. The private soldiers are parts of masses of men, sweeping forward across open fields or firing volleys from behind stone walls, not individuals.

Like the book on which it is based, The Killer Angels, the movie does a pretty good job of depicting Lee’s decision making, and the tension with Longstreet. It doesn’t take a Jubal Early Longstreet is the Devil approach, nor does it condemn Lee for fighting, and fighting the way he did on those three days. Yes, I would say that a viewer will lean towards sympathizing with Longstreet and questioning Lee’s judgment, but there is considerable basis in the historical record for that interpretation so I don’t take the depiction as unfair to Lee. And it gives Lee plenty of opportunity to explain himself and his objections to Longstreet’s contrary views. Both sides are presented fairly, and it’s really up to you to decide.

The main thing that struck me upon rewatching in 2022 is that the movie could not have been made today. Not a prayer in hell. And that does not speak well of us.

For one thing, the focus is on the Confederacy. John Buford is lionized in the first 45 minutes or so, and Chamberlain of course gets a lot of play, but the emphasis is clearly on the Confederate command and Lee’s decision making: Meade barely makes a cameo. The tragic figures are mainly Confederates, especially Lewis Armistead and Richard B. Garnett. During the remarkable Pickett’s charge scene, the Confederate advance is clearly the dramatic focus.

Nowadays, of course, the Confederacy and Confederates are synonymous with evil. Lee has been knocked off his pedestal–literally. In fact he has literally been knocked off of several pedestals in Richmond and Charlottesville and elsewhere. Monuments to Confederate enlisted men are under threat all over the South. The thought of treating Confederates at all sympathetically is an anathema.

The film and Killer Angels let the characters from both sides speak about their reasons for fighting. Confederate brigadier James L. Kemper expresses the Southern justification for secession to visiting Englishman Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, who has considerable sympathy for it. No doubt you will disagree with Kemper, but the movie presents the Southern view honestly, thereby allowing you to judge it on its merits without having to deal with an ideologically twisted, tendentious presentation of it: the only hint of directorial/authorial judgment is George Pickett’s clownish summary of the Southern cause. Similarly, when Thomas Chamberlain, Lawrence’s brother, converses with a captured private, the Southerner disclaims any racial motivation for his taking up arms, and Chamberlain takes him at his word: no way that would be allowed today.

Even a Northern view, expressed by Kilrain, would be verbotten 29 years after the film was released. Kilrain expresses what at the time was a conventional view among conservatives, and which many old school liberals held as well:

Chamberlain: What do you think of Negroes?

Kilrain: Well, if you mean the race… I don’t really know. This is not a thing to be ashamed of. The thing is, you cannot judge a race. Any man who judges by the group is a pea-wit. You take men one at a time. To me, there was never any difference.

In this identitarian age, this is wrongthink that if expressed, puts one at risk of cancelation, loss of job, loss of friends, and perhaps even social death.

For in 2022 (Woke Year 7, at least), in contrast to 1993 (Clinton Year 1), judging by the group is a moral imperative. Judging individuals “one at a time” on their merits, independent of their racial/gender group is considered a sure sign of cis patriarchal white supremacism, and hence evil.

So watching the movie in 2022 made me sad. Not because watching Lewis Armistead’s torment at raising his hand against his best friend and getting shot down by his best friend’s men is sad, but because in 2022 America you are not allowed to find that sad and tragic and human, because Confederacy, and you are prohibited from sympathizing with Armistead as a man irrespective of the nature of the cause for which he perished. Because today a movie that reflects Lincoln’s Second Inaugural (“With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right”–which implicitly acknowledges that we might be wrong), as Gettysburg does, is currently outside the bounds of accepted civil discourse. Now charity is a fugitive, and malice is regnant.

And that is precisely why a second Civil War is not inconceivable today. Which is the saddest thing of all.

In the very early days of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, after watching many videos of columns of Russian armor or individual tanks getting blown to smithereens, I remarked on Twitter several times that what astounded me is that the tanks were operating without infantry support, which left them vulnerable to being ambushed by a couple of guys with an ATGM fired within spitting distance. FFS, it has been known since the dawn of tanks in WWI, and especially since their widespread employment in WWII, that tanks without infantry are extremely vulnerable to one- or two-man antitank weapons. The bazooka is one example, but the panzerfaust (and subsequently its imitator the RPG-7) is the best illustration.

I had written down the Russian failures to a meatware problem: namely, badly trained or badly led troops, operating under bad doctrine. Well, it appears that it is a meatware problem, but a different one: a lack of meat. To modify the old Wendy’s commercial: where’s the meat?

For it seems that the vaunted Russian Battalion Tactical Groups–BTGs–have been deployed to Ukraine seriously undermanned. Fifty percent undermanned, in fact, a problem only exacerbated by the massive attrition that undermanned units inevitably suffered.

Many of the infantry fighting vehicles like the BMP-2 in its several variants have apparently operated without infantry: only the driver, commander, and gunner man the vehicles. So the reason that Russian armor has no infantry support is that it has no infantry period.

This is nothing short of criminal. Alas, the real criminals here (from Putin on down) will not pay the price. The poor Ivans incinerated when Javelins or Stugnas and other ATGMs demolish their vehicles have–and will.

Recently there have been fewer such images, because the Russians have changed tactics, due no doubt to the carnage of February and March. Now most Russian losses (at least the ones depicted on video) are from indirect fires.

For the war in Ukraine has become one of indirect fires. As predicted here when the original coup de main was smashed, the Russians have reverted to reliance on their God of War–artillery. In particular, after giving the Grozny treatment to Mariupol and winning a pyrrhic victory there, they have done the same at Severodonetsk.

The Ukrainians have wisely decided to withdraw. Perhaps a bit too late, but better late than never. By holding out the Ukrainians did cost the Russians time and materiel and casualties. But the Ukrainians suffered severe casualties as well. Judging when to make a tactical withdrawal is hard.

Severodonetsk is (or perhaps was) at the nose of a salient. The classic means of assaulting a salient is to strike on the shoulders and pinch it off, trapping the defenders. But the Russians have signally failed in their attempts to do so. So they bashed in the nose of the salient with brute firepower. It is a victory, of sorts, but one that will not have decisive because the Russians have proved that they do not have the ability to exploit such breaches through armored maneuver.

Severodonetsk was just a WWI battle, or a battle akin to the ones in the static phase of the Korean War July 1951-July 1953. A few kilometers are taken, at heavy cost (especially to the attackers) with no decisive strategic effect.

And the prospect is for more such battles, until one side or the other–or both–collapses due to an exhaustion of personnel or emotional/moral collapse.

Morale on both sides involved in the slugging contests is reportedly cracking. This is understandable. Especially on the Ukrainian side, given they are outgunned. There is nothing more terrifying or demoralizing to soldiers than artillery bombardment. The soldier feels utterly helpless, with no way of fighting back, and wondering whether the next whoosh of a shell is the last sound they will ever hear. What we now call PTSD was referred to as “shell shock” in WWI for a reason.

So, again as predicted early on, the war has degenerated into a war of attrition. The deciding factor will be which army, and perhaps which government, collapses first. Existing Russian forces have been hollowed out. Russia has additional manpower to draw on, but that would require Putin to mobilize, something he has been reluctant to do. And even if he does, re-manning depleted BTGs with unmotivated raw recruits will just permit extending the slow grind west, will not result in a decisive advance, and will push the Russian death toll ever closer to 6 figures.

Ukraine has made some marginal gains on the periphery in the north (around Kharkiv) and in the south (around Kherson). But nothing decisive.

Further, the events in Donbas have apparently been a rude awakening and cured the “victory disease” that inflicted Zelensky, the rest of the Ukrainian leadership, and many supporters in the West after the initial Russian thrusts were turned back.

But given that neither side seems willing to stop the fighting except on terms that the other finds completely unacceptable, the bloody, pointless war will drag on for the foreseeable future.

Astoundingly, even though it should have been apparent no later than mid-March that based on events on the ground and betting on form regarding Russian behavior that this is exactly where we would be, US military “intelligence” has supposedly been surprised at how the Russians have responded to their initial setback: “But U.S. intelligence apparently missed another possibility: that Russia would revert to its traditional “way of war” based on mass and attrition.”

How is that possible? I mean really. This should not have been complicated.

After Iraq, Afghanistan, and now Ukraine, U.S. military intelligence–especially the parts responsible for evaluating enemy capabilities and intentions–needs to be ripped down to the foundation and built from scratch. Ukraine is another example of “those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.” And it doesn’t even require looking at relatively ancient history, like, you know, WWII. It only requires looking back back 20-25 years, to Grozny.

These serial failures of US intelligence scare me far more than anything happening along the Don. An addle-brained president, with moronic advisors, acting on bad information. What could possibly go wrong?

FTAlphaville had a fascinating piece this week in which it described a discussion at a CFTC roundtable debating the FTX proposal that is generating so much tumult in DerivativesWorld. In a nutshell, Chris Edmonds of ICE revealed that due to a “technical issue” during the market chaos of March 2020 (which I wrote about in a Journal of Applied Corporate Finance piece) a large market participant was arguably in default to the ICE clearinghouse, but ICE (after consulting with the CEO, i.e., Jeff Sprecher) did not pull the trigger and call a default. Instead, it gave some time for the incipient defaulter to resolve the issue.

This raises an issue that I have written about for going on 15 years–the “tight coupling” of the clearing mechanism, and the acute destabilizing potential thereof. Tightly coupled systems are subject to”normal accidents” (also known as systemic collapses–shitshows): in a tightly coupled system, everything must operate in a tight sequence, and the failure of one piece of the system can cause the collapse of the entire system.

If ICE had acted in a mechanical fashion, and declared a default, the default of a large member could have caused the failure of ICE clearing, which would have had serious consequences for the entire financial system, especially in its COVID-induced febrile state. But ICE had people in the loop, which loosened the coupling and prevented a “normal accident” (i.e., the failure of ICE clearing and perhaps the financial system).

I have a sneaking suspicion that the exact same thing happened with LME during the nickel cluster almost exactly two years after the ICE situation. It is evident that LME uncoupled the entire system–by shutting down trading altogether, apparently suspending some margin calls, and even tearing up trades.

Put differently, it’s a good thing that important elements of the financial system have ways of loosening the coupling when by-the-book (or by-the algorithm) operation would lead to its destruction.

The ICE event was apparently a “technical issue.” Well that’s exactly the point–failures of technology can lead to the collapse of tightly coupled systems. And these failures are ubiquitous: remember the failures of FedWire on 19 October, 1987, which caused huge problems. (Well, you’re probably not old enough to remember. That’s why you need me.)

This issue came up during the FTX roundtable precisely because FTX (and its fanboyz) tout its algorithmic, no-man-in-the-loop operation as its innovation, and its virtue. But that gets it exactly backwards: it is its greatest vulnerability, and its greatest threat to the financial markets more generally. We should be thankful ICE had adults, not algos, in charge.

As I pointed out in my post on FTX in March:

The mechanical means of addressing margin shortfalls on a real time frequency increases the tight coupling on the exchange, and is tailor made to create destabilizing positive feedback loops: prices move a lot leading to margin shortfalls in real time that trigger real time trades that accentuate the price movement. It is like seeding the market with huge numbers of stop orders, which are inherently destabilizing. Further, they can create incentives to manipulate. Anyone who can get some idea of where the stops are can “gun the stops” and trigger big price moves.

It’s particularly remarkable that FTX still is the subject of widespread adulation in light of Terra’s spiraling into the terra firma. As I said in my Luna post, it is lunatic to algorithmize positive feedback (i.e., doom) loops. (You might guess I don’t have a Luna tattoo. Not getting an FTX tattoo either!*)

FTX’s Sam Bankman-Fried is backtracking somewhat:

In the face of the agricultural industry complaints, Bankman-Fried gave ground. While maintaining his position that automated liquidations could prevent bad situations from growing worse, he said the FTX approach was better suited to “digitally settled” contracts — such as those for crypto — than to trades where physical collateral such as wheat or corn is used

Sorry, Sam, but digital settlement vs. physical settlement matters fuck all. (And “physical collateral”? Wut?) And you are deluded if you believe that “automated liquidations” generally prevent bad situations from growing worse. If you think that, you don’t get it, and are a positive threat to the financial markets.

*FTX bought the naming rights for a stadium in Miami. I say only slightly in jest that this is another indication of the dangers posed by FTX and its messianic founder. FFS, you’d think after the 2000 tech meltdown people would recognize that buying naming rights is often a great short selling signal, and a harbinger of future collapse. To say that those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it is too strong, but those who follow in the footsteps of failures that took place before their time betray an an arrogance (or an ignorance) that greatly raises the odds of repeating failure.

This C-SPAN video of Kent Masterson Brown talking about his Meade at Gettysburg was sufficiently intriguing that I bought the book, and I’m glad I did. it is a thorough analysis of Meade’s generalship. I am in agreement with most of Brown’s full-throated defense of “that damned old goggle eyed snapping turtle” and his actions at Gettysburg. Laboring under tremendous disadvantages, having been thrown into command unexpectedly, operating with little information about his enemy, and knowing that a baying mob in Washington would crucify him if he failed, Meade responded smartly and professionally, and came away with a great victory.

Hell of a lot of good that did him, though. His post-battle actions were the subject of brutal criticism, by Lincoln no less. As Brown explains in detail, this criticism was incredibly unjust. His battle actions were also second guessed, most notably by the notorious Daniel Sickles and his coterie of political, military, and journalistic backstabbers. Those criticisms were also unfair, as Brown shows. Meade’s shade must be smiling to know he finally has an able defender.

What convinced me to buy the book was the video’s retelling and interpretation of Meade’s actions leading up to the battle, and in particular the “Pipe Creek Circular” (which was also the subject of much post-battle and indeed post-war discussion). In Brown’s telling, thrust into command, Meade was going by the book. The books, actually, namely those of Jomini, Clauswitz, and his old West Point instructor Dennis Hart Mahan.

The textbook approach was (a) to establish a strong position, (b) send out a force (a reconnaissance in force) to cause the enemy to concentrate, (c) have that force withdraw, fighting, drawing the now concentrated enemy back onto the prepared position. According to Brown, this is what Meade intended left wing commander John Reynolds to do with the I and XI corp when he dispatched Reynolds north. Knowing Lee was generally oriented along the Chambersburg Pike that ran through Gettysburg, and receiving word from John Buford that many Confederates were near the town, Meade dispatched Reynolds as his reconnaissance force with the intent of using it to lure Lee onto Meade’s extremely strong Pipe Creek Line some miles to the south.

But Reynolds lost his head, and instead of fencing with Lee and drawing him back onto Pipe Creek, the Pennsylvanian advanced to support Buford, even leading the brigade in the van–the storied Iron Brigade–personally into the fight. For his troubles, Reynolds got a bullet in the back of the head. His successor, Abner Doubleday (whom, ironically, far more people have heard of for exactly the wrong reasons than have ever heard of Reynolds or Meade for that matter), did not know what Reynolds’ or Meade’s intentions were. He concluded that Reynolds must have wanted to fight west and north of Gettysburg, and therefore he would too.

Although the I Corps and some elements of the XI Corps fought valiantly, they were eventually overwhelmed. And here Reynolds’ precipitate decision to fight with the town on his line of retreat turned defeat into disaster. Retreating through the town led to a breakdown in units and mass confusion, and the loss of thousands of prisoners. The panting, panicking remnants, much thinned, rallied–just–on Cemetery Hill to the east of town.

So far, Brown’s story hangs together. Meade sent out a reconnaissance in force, but its commander either misunderstood its purpose or forgot it in the excitement, and brought on a battle in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It’s the next act in the drama that raises questions about Brown’s interpretation. Hearing of the situation in Gettysburg, Meade sent his trusted chief engineer, Gouverneur K. Warren to reconnoiter and report back. But crucially, he also sent his junior corps commander, Winfield S. Hancock to Gettysburg with the following instruction: “If you think the ground and position there a better one to fight a battle under the existing circumstances, so advise [me] and [I] will order all the troops up.”

This is not the action of a man with a plan, particularly a plan to draw Lee onto a strong, prepared position. Meade delegated a crucial decision to a man, capable though he was, who had no full understanding of the current disposition of the Army of Potomac or its lines at Pipe Creek or its logistical situation–all relevant considerations for determining the best course of action. Further, if Meade had been so set on his plan (a) he would have explained that to Hancock, so the II Corps commander could have used that information to determine whether it was “better” to fight at Gettysburg or follow Meade’s original plan to fall back to Pipe Creek drawing Lee along with him, and (b) asked Hancock whether a fighting withdrawal from Gettysburg was possible.

Punting such a major decision to an uninformed subordinate does not bespeak commitment to a plan. But Brown is silent on this, which is the weakest point of the book, and something that undercuts his up-until-then plausible argument.

In the event, Hancock concluded that Gettysburg was “the strongest position by nature on which to fight a battle I ever saw,” and recommended to Meade to bring up the army.

Except it wasn’t–as Brown discusses in detail. Hancock only saw a part of what became the battlefield, which happened to be the strongest position. The rest of it, as Meade found out when he arrived and performed a detailed reconnaissance, had severe disadvantages. These almost cost the Army of the Potomac the battle on 2 July.

Moreover, by moving forward to Gettysburg instead of withdrawing the battered survivors of the 1 July battle back to Pipe Creek, Meade greatly exacerbated the already serious logistical handicaps under which he was operating. One of the best parts of Brown’s book is his detailing of these handicaps–including his extended description about how the march away from established supply lines to Gettysburg stretched the Army’s logistics to the breaking point.

Furthermore, advancing to Gettysburg required his already fagged soldiers to undertake forced marches of dozens of miles in heat, humidity, and dust, with too little food and water. It put tremendous strain on horseflesh–another under-appreciated consideration that elsewhere Brown gives due weight. In essence, Meade gave Lee the gift that Meade was hoping to get from Lee: advancing and concentrating on an enemy already in position.

Perhaps there is an explanation for Meade’s actions. Maybe he, like Reynolds, got his blood up and this clouded his judgment. Perhaps he believed that a retreat would be considered treason by the febrile politicians in Washington. Perhaps something else.

But Meade’s decision and decision making (especially delegating such an epochal decision to a subordinate with an extremely narrow perspective) is problematic, at best. I think that it is worse than that, especially given that it cut against every consideration that Brown raises to explain Meade’s actions from the time he took command until news arrived of Reynolds’ death. So an explanation is required, but Brown does not give it. According to Brown, Meade was going by the book. Then he threw the book out the window. Why? We’re not told. There is a serious gap in Brown’s line.

Many mysteries and conundrums surround the battle of Gettysburg–which is why 159 years after the fact it is the subject of book after book, few as good as Brown’s. This is another mystery, and I wish Kent Masterson Brown had attempted to unravel it–not least because he poses it implicitly. Alas, he doesn’t even acknowledge it as a mystery. Which, I guess, creates an opportunity for yet another author to write another book about Gettysburg.

Its unexpected success on the battlefield has convinced Ukraine that it can achieve victory. And by “victory,” I mean driving Russia out of Ukraine altogether, including Donetsk, Luhansk, and yes, Crimea.

This is very disturbing. Defending against a shambolic attacking army with horrible logistics and a pathetic operational plan is one thing. Attacking–even against a shambolic army–is another. This is particularly true given that the Russian army was designed and trained to stop a Nato offensive (as ludicrous as that idea is), and has massive amounts of artillery that would make any attack a nightmare: if it was doctrinally unsuited for offense, and adopted a terrible offensive plan, that does not imply that it cannot defend (and against an army that has itself taken serious casualties in personnel and materiel). And all of the tactics that allowed the Ukrainians to blunt the Russian attack, notably ATGM ambushes and attacks on lengthening supply lines, could be turned against them. Ukraine would be giving up all the factors that have worked to its advantage, and would be courting all of the factors that contributed to Russia’s disaster.

The last time the Ukrainian army got the bit between its teeth, in Debaltseve in 2014, it did not turn out well. Yes, the Ukrainian army is far better now, but fools rush in.

Worse, the US appears to be encouraging this. And in an unbelievable and inexcusable error, the administration–SecDef Austin in particular–have publicly announced that the US objective is to weaken Russia. Even if this is the objective, and that would be defensible, it is not defensible at all to make it public. It only validates the Russian narrative that it is at war with the West, thereby bolstering Russian popular support for the war, but it encourages Ukraine to run risks that it should not.

What is the alternative? Alternatives have to be evaluated in terms of the ugly facts.

The war is exacting a horrific toll on Ukraine. Its people, its infrastructure, and its economy. Tens of thousands dead. Millions of refugees. Devastated cities. A ruined countryside.

But more, it is exacting an awful toll on the world, through its extraordinary disruptions of agriculture and energy markets. All the more because Russia appears to be exacerbating deliberately these impacts. This is not merely a matter of comfort and ease. It is a matter of survival for the world’s poorest.

Given this reality, a less than ideal, and likely temporary, resolution is preferable. Something that gives Putin (or whoever is really in charge) a pretext to cease hostilities, and leaves Ukraine not in control of all the territory within its official boundaries. Edward Luttwak suggests legitimate (emphasis on legitimate) plebiscites in various Ukrainian regions.

The downsides are apparent. Putin/Russia could come back for more in time: maybe “will” is the better word, because no deal with Putin/Russia can be considered binding. Such a deal would represent major concessions on fundamental principles.

But it would stop the slaughter and mayhem for a time. It would allow time to build up Ukraine, and to permit a development of a longer term strategy to deal with the Russia Problem. And it is a big problem.

Remember. There are no ideal “solutions” in foreign policy. There are only shitty options. Statesmanship is the ability to choose the least shitty, and make it reality. Neither Ukraine nor the US (nor Russia) is demonstrating such statesmanship.

One can understand, on a human level, the Ukrainian reaction. The US does not have the same excuse. It is a time for realism, realistically pursued with cold eyes. It is not the time for Wilsonian impulsiveness. That has never turned out well.

MacArthur said “there is no substitute for victory.” This was an absolutist statement that violated fundamental principles of choice. Substitutibility depends on relative costs. Victory–e.g., expelling Russia from all of Ukraine–would be very costly, if is achievable at all. Given such cost, there are substitutes, MacArthur notwithstanding.

I have often written of my admiration for the United States Marine Corps–all the while acknowledging that I would not be good fit for the Marines 😛 In particular I admire its culture. It is a true warrior culture that often seems strange to outsiders, who often include even those in other branches of the military. This culture, forged in combat for almost two-and-a-half centuries has allowed the Marines to prevail in virtually every kind of battle (sniping from topmasts; counterinsurgency in Central America, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq; urban warfare; amphibious assault; and even armored drives in the desert) in virtually every possible climate (except Arctic, though the Marines train for that too). This flexibility and adaptability has distinguished the USMC, and perhaps reflects its often precarious status within the US military: it has had to adapt to survive, especially in the battle for defense dollars.

The organization and doctrine of the USMC is also very distinctive and worthy of admiration. The USMC has always been built round the rifleman: “every Marine a rifleman.” As such, its doctrine is based on fire and maneuver, with artillery, armor, and most crucially organic air power (fixed and rotary wing) having the mission of assisting the grunts at the pointy end take and hold ground. As a result, they have been amazingly successful in doing so.

The current Commandant of the USMC, David H. Berger, is pushing a major reorganization and reorientation of the Corps that would radically change it. The motivation for Berger’s revolution is that the US must reorient to confront China. Berger believes that the USMC can best advance that objective by operating in the littorals to direct fires at Chinese naval targets and to provide reconnaissance and screening for the USN and USAF.

To accomplish this mission, Berger believes that armor is irrelevant, and that conventional artillery will play a much diminished role in the Marine’s future. He also believes that the days of amphibious assault are over.

Based on these precepts, Berger would massively overhaul the force. All armor–all–would be eliminated, on the theory that if the Marines need it, they can call on the Army. (Hmmm.) The number of artillery battalions would be slashed. The number of infantry battalions would also be reduced, and the sizes of these battalions would be reduced as well. The Marines would operate many fewer aircraft.

What would be increased under Berger’s plan? Missiles capable of striking enemy ships and land targets from littorals, and anti-aircraft missiles.

Berger would also transform manpower policies, in particular by bringing in specialists in areas such as cyber and giving them rank and assignments based on civilian experience and expertise.

I must admit deep reservations about this vision. I do commend the refocus on fighting China, in the littorals in particular. I also understand that military conservatism can be extremely destructive. Living off past glories and perpetuating past practices risks becoming like the Prussian army that remained wedded to old ways, only to be crushed by Napoleon at Jena.

But I deem the proposal to be extremely risky, and likely ill-advised.

Most importantly, it is a reorganization built on a particular theory of what war will be fought in the future, and how it will be fought. Militaries have always been poor at forecasting the future. Moreover, creating a force that can do one thing gives an enemy the incentive to do something other than what the force is designed to do, which renders it all but ineffective. (Think of the Maginot Line. There are many other examples.)

War is uncertain, and the future of warfare is uncertain–and one’s enemies have incentives to attempt surprises that add to the uncertainty.

In the face of considerable uncertainty, optionality is extremely valuable. The ability to adapt is extremely valuable. A force designed to do one thing offers very little optionality, and is of little utility outside that one thing. Which gives an enemy a reason to do something else.

The Marines have demonstrated the benefits of that optionality for their entire history, and in particularly during the last 35 years. In that time, they have succeeded in armored warfare in the desert, urban warfare in extremely hostile environments, guerrilla warfare in jungles and the Hindu Kush. All because of the adaptability of fire and maneuver to different combat situations, the diverse organic weapons of the USMC, and the peerless training and esprit of Marines of all ranks.

Yes, fighting China in the littorals may be the most likely future conflict. But planning based on the most likely outcome is almost always faulty logic, especially considering that the enemy gets a vote and can avoid fighting the way you are oriented to fight.

Berger’s plans would largely eliminate that optionality. This would deprive the national command authority of the ability to respond flexibly to the predictably unpredictable types of conflicts that will occur in the future–or will not occur, because the US does not have the capability to fight them.

I am also deeply skeptical that modern weaponry has rendered fire and maneuver obsolete. If anything, the Russian experience in Ukraine demonstrates that the inability to execute fire and maneuver is a recipe for military disaster.

The re-engineering of Marine culture is particularly worrisome. It is really the USMC’s secret sauce. It is the product of centuries of evolution and experience. It is an intangible that has led to tangible results from the shores of Iwo Jima to the sands of Tripoli to the Halls of Montezuma and pretty much everywhere else that Marine boots have trod and Marines have bled.

All in all, Berger’s proposal has a very McNamara feel to it. McNamara had some insights and offered some constructive criticism and made some constructive changes, but for the most part his influence was baleful.

Ironically, Berger’s proposal has unleashed a barrage of fire and much maneuvering from myriad critics, including notably every living USMC commandant. The opposition position is well-summarized in a James Webb op-ed, Webb being a USNA grad, Vietnam combat Marine, and ex-SecDef and Senator. A series of essays in Task and Purpose also offers extremely trenchant criticism of Berger’s plan. I found General Van Riper’s essay particularly persuasive, as was the one on Berger’s “talent management” plan, which emphasizes the risk it poses to the Marines’ unique culture.

Of course, military forces have to adapt as technologies and threats change. Optimizing these adaptations is difficult because of the huge uncertainties involved. But it is precisely those uncertainties which make plans based on a narrow conception of future threats and technologies particularly ill-advised. The fire-and-maneuver-based USMC has demonstrated amazing flexibility and adaptability in his storied history. A prudent course would be to determine how to adapt such a force to incorporate a new mission without crippling its ability to execute old ones. Unfortunately, that is not the course that General Berger is setting, and that leaves me very uneasy indeed.

In a rather amazing development, the Russian cruiser Moskva was hit by two Ukrainian Neptune surface-to-surface missiles, caught fire, and experienced a major munitions explosions. It subsequently sank, allegedly while under tow, although that is according to the Russian side which (as will be seen) was even more deceptive during this incident than it has been in the rest of the war–which is saying something..

Perhaps some latter day Larry King can get Putin on his show and ask him what happened to the Moskva:

Somehow I doubt Putin would be so smug now.

Would that the sinking of two major combatants provide the bookends to Putin’s malign reign.

This episode was even murkier than the rest of the war. The Ukrainians almost immediately claimed that they had struck the ship. The Russians merely acknowledged that it had experienced a severe fire and an ammunition explosion, but that the entire crew had been evacuated.

These things did not hang together. Fires and explosions sufficient to sink a ship with no casualties? Or had the crew failed so miserably in fighting fires that the captain ordered abandon ship before the fires triggered the ammunition explosion? And if there was no missile, what could have caused such a devastating fire, and the failure of the crew to be able to control it?

The missiles that allegedly hit the Moskva are powerful, but not that powerful. Far smaller ships, e.g., the USS Stark, a frigate that displaced about 1/3rd of the Moskva, was hit by an Exocet (which had a bigger warhead than the Neptunes) and survived–though only after heroic efforts by the crew (as an exhibit at the UNSA Museum documents). The HMS Sheffield, which was only slightly larger than the Stark, was hit by Exocets. It eventually sank under tow, but only after several days. The bigger Moskva should have been able to absorb these hits.

Perhaps they were very lucky hits. But hits devastating enough to put such a large ship in mortal danger would have almost certainly killed large numbers.

My guess is that Russian damage control was very poor. Damage control is a war winner, and a force multiplier. It was the US Navy’s saving grace throughout WWII in the Pacific, and has also proved invaluable in later conflicts, e.g., the fires on the carriers Oriskany, Forrestal, and Enterprise during Vietnam. (When I was at Navy we had to watch a film about the Forrestal fire as part of our education on the importance of damage control. Pretty sobering watching.) If Russian damage control was poor, either due to bad training, bad doctrine, or bad equipment (e.g., DC gear being stolen, or not maintained) that would explain fires getting out of control and forcing abandonment of the ship, and a subsequent explosion.

There is also the issue of whether the ship should have been struck in the first place. Apparently its primary role in the Ukraine war was to provide air surveillance and defense for other Russian fleet units operating in the Black Sea. It had a rather extensive suite of long range and short range air defenses, including point defense systems that are intended to take out threats like the Neptunes. So why did it fail so spectacularly to defend itself?

One story circulating is that the ship was “distracted” by several Turkish made drones. Really? That shouldn’t happen. If true, that smacks of lack of situational awareness and target fixation. Or a smug confidence that the Ukrainians had nothing that could hit them. It also suggests that the drones have taken up residence in Russian heads.

The US contributed to the fog of war. Initially the US said that it could not confirm that missiles had struck the ship, or that it was in a sinking condition, or had sunk. Then today the US said yes, it was able to confirm that Ukrainian missiles had taken it out.

I find this purported ignorance to be implausible. The Black Sea has to be blanketed with US surveillance and reconnaissance assets, in space, in the sky, on land, and in the ether. The US is likely sucking up visual, photographic, and electronic information (radar emissions, communications intercepts) at a prodigious rate. The very fact that the Moskva’s electronic emissions would have largely disappeared when it was in extremis would have been one clue that it was hors du combat. And no doubt all all Russian fleet radio transmissions were sucked up and analyzed in near real time. It’s plausible that the US Navy was more informed about developments than the Russian.

This would explain the pains to which the American went to appear mystified by what was happening with the Moskva. “Hey, we can’t see nothin’. Big mystery to us!” In reality the US sees a lot. A lot. Ex ante and ex post. Those ex ante observations, if provided to Ukraine, could have made possible a strike that Ukraine could not have carried out on its own.

And here’s another thing. The Moskva was hit relatively far offshore–approximately 100 kilometers, or well over the horizon. Over-the-horizon target acquisition is not easy. (This might be another reason the Moskva felt secure.) Did the Ukrainians have the requisite targeting capability, or did a little birdie tell them? That is, one very plausible hypothesis is that the US fed Ukraine the necessary targeting information, again relying on the extensive array of sensors upon which the US can call.

If Ukrainian assets targeted the Moskva, that would only raise other issues. Why didn’t Russia take them out over the past 6 plus weeks? Again, US doctrine prioritizes going after the eyes. It’s a lot easier fighting a blind enemy.

What are the broader implications of this sinking. It is unlikely to have a first order effect on the fighting. It does make an amphibious assault less likely, but I always thought that was a remote prospect in any event.

Its main impact is most likely psychological. A fillip for Ukraine, a humiliation for Russia. And in particular humiliation for one specific Russian–Vladimir Putin. No doubt this will stoke even further his incandescent rage against the Ukrainians–and his own military. It will represent yet another ignominious defeat in a litany of ignominious defeats to be avenged. That bodes ill for any prospect of seeing this war end soon.