Introduction
The Chief of Army’s directive to review the state of the Army profession divides the task into a review of Army’s jurisdiction, expertise, and self-regulation. One area of expertise that the Army prides itself on, and which tends at times to set it apart from other services, is in the area of tactical and operational planning.[1] Planning and decision-making is not something that is peculiar to the Army or to the military; planning is an activity that is a normal part of everyday living. Humans are often confronted by choices and need to consider how multiple things (whether they be abstract ideas or concrete objects) are best arranged for optimal effect.[2] These two broad areas, which we might call choices and coordination, form the two key military planning activities that need to occur to facilitate decisions and help arrive at outcomes. Choices require decisions, so decision-making and how decisions are reached is one area of interest—this is the preserve of what is known in the military as command.[3] The second area of planning interest is when coordination rather than decision-making is required. Coordination requires a process to determine optimal patterns, structure and sequences, and also a method to measure planning and make adjustments—this is the preserve of what the military terms control.[4] The two are often linked: decision-making determines a preferred course of action and then further planning determines the optimal way to allocate resources to achieve the desired outcome. Sometimes the process may be iterative so that courses of action are tested before a decision is made. Either way, the two key areas of planning remain: decision-making and optimal coordination.
Military planning is a subset or specialised area of planning. Military planning is a combination of decision-making and optimal coordination. The addition of the word ‘military’ indicates that this planning is influenced by the military environment, specifically the peculiar and unusual stressors or inputs that make military planning different to planning in a non-military environment. Some of these peculiarities might be the increased uncertainty that inevitably pervades military activity, the human factors in such a stressful and deadly environment, the consequences of success and failure, and the aggressive competitiveness between combatants. While not completely absent in other areas of human endeavour, the combination of factors in the military environment make military planning its own area of unique interest.
The military profession has often codified its planning processes, and periodically updates and issues new planning doctrine. The Chief of the Defence Force (CDF) signed the latest Australian Defence Force (ADF) planning doctrine, Decision Making and Planning Processes (DMPP) on 21 October 2024.[5] For full disclosure, the author of this article is also the author of this new doctrine. That said, this article does not aim to describe the new doctrine. Instead, it offers a deeper understanding of some of the thinking that lies at the heart of it and, by so doing, aims to improve military planning and decision-making.
A Brief History of Military Planning
Simply stated, military planning throughout history has always required decision-making by leaders (our first area of military interest), while showing a steady but marked increase in the coordination required for military activities (our second area of interest). With the broadest of historical brushstrokes, pre-industrial war can be categorised as a series of intense but brief battles and the occasional siege, even if a state of war might last for years. The inability to preserve food, inadequate or absent medical facilities, and rudimentary transport systems meant that nations could not keep large numbers of troops sustained for an extended period.[6] While the Roman legions’ success can be attributed to their ability to overcome these issues better than their adversaries, there were still practical limits to what was possible.[7] One of the practical limitations was communications, restricting the view of commanders and thus the scope of battle. The commander was expected not only to command but also to physically lead; this emphasised the need for sequential decisions by individuals rather than the detailed coordination of multiple factors.[8]
As warfare became industrialised, and mass armies became practical, detailed coordination and planning to support decision-makers became essential. Commanders throughout history have always had close advisers, but these individuals advised more on tactical decisions and political considerations rather than the behind-the-scenes coordination.[9] This is where the creation of a separate group of advisers and planners became useful—separate specialists provided the detail to coordinate the many factors. The first quasi-modern ‘staff’ is observable during the Napoleonic Wars as first the French and then the Prussians saw the need of specialist staff officers to coordinate the battle.[10] There had been earlier embryonic staff systems in the French army: a staff officer responsible for lodging, supplies and the organisation of marches is identifiable during the era of Louis XIII (1610–1643).[11] During the 18th century there was further development of staff officers but nowhere near the numbers that are commonly used today: for example, each ‘division’ was authorised only three staff officers. Yet we can see the lasting influence of the French staff system with, for example, our modern staff section numbering harkening back to this period. Thus, the First Bureau was responsible for personnel, the Second Bureau was responsible for a daily log of events, the Third Bureau was responsible for reconnaissance and plans and the Fourth Bureau was responsible for headquarters and lodgement of troops. A critical part of the French Army’s success against most of Europe can be attributed to its ability to harness the French nation in a ‘levée en masse’ and this was made optimally successful because of an efficient staff system.[12]
It was their crushing defeat by Napoleon and the French in 1806 that convinced the Prussians of the need for sweeping reforms. One of these reforms was the creation of the Prussian general staff system. Field Marshal General August Neidhardt von Gneisenau and General Gerhard Johann David von Scharnhorst were prominent in these reforms.[13] They institutionalised the right of the commander’s adviser to take part in command and control by advising the commander until he made a decision.[14] The staff would then produce the staff work that enabled the coordination required for the execution of the commander’s plan. To better prepare personnel for these roles, the Prussians enhanced their War Academy in the late 1800s. By 1872, it was directly under command of the Chief of the General Staff and its purpose was focused on producing staff officers.[15] The course was rigorous and demanding. Of the hundreds of applicants, only one hundred were selected annually, and by the end of the three-year course only five to eight were permanently assigned to the General Staff.[16]
In the intervening years, wars have become ever more complex. The industrial wars of the 20th century became as much about the production and massing of resources as they did about individual decisions, so the staff grew and the individual often receded into the background.[17] While histories record the names of famous leaders who led and won battles, it was the titanic nature of World War I and World War II that tended to decide the issue. This global total mobilisation for war required as much coordination as it did decisions.[18] The size of staffs continued to grow in the early 21st century, and modern communications systems now allow vast amounts of information to be processed and disseminated.[19] Today, it is extremely difficult for any one person to be across the detail of every military department, and often these departments can become self-perpetuating entities churning out reams of data and information like some kind of out-of-control sorcerer’s apprentice.[20]
The Previous Planning Process
The preceding rapid gallop through military planning history brings us to the present day and the planning process. Armies, in particular, have now formalised their planning process. Before 1995, the Australian Army used the British planning method, known as the ‘Military Estimate’. From 1995, the Australian Army began adopting the US (and later NATO) planning process.[21] This was initially called by the US Army the ‘Tactical Decision Making Process’ and then the ‘Military Decision Making Process’. The Australian Army called it the ‘Military Appreciation Process’ (MAP),[22] and in 1999–2000 another version was produced by the ADF specifically for the joint operational level. It became known as the ‘Joint Military Appreciation Process’ (JMAP).[23]
The MAP and JMAP were very similar to each other, with minor wording changes to reflect either the single-service need or the level of conflict. They both followed a standard process through several steps: scoping and framing (or receipt of mission), mission analysis, course of action development, course of action analysis and then decision and execution. The steps had sub-steps and then sub-sub-steps, each step building on the other in a predictable, linear fashion that attempted to reduce a problem to an optimal solution.
The MAP and JMAP processes were both broadly sound in principle and, like the Military Estimate that preceded them, they reflected contemporary understanding of how humans made decisions. The accepted belief at the time was that humans were rational beings and, when confronted with multiple options requiring a choice, would dispassionately and systematically reduce the options to arrive at the optimal outcome.[24] The pros and cons of possible outcomes would be objectively weighed and measured, and then the most sensible and rational course of action would be selected. It was felt that not only was this a practical way to make decisions that exploited the human brain’s capacity but also it could excise any passion, emotion and bias that might lead to suboptimal decisions.
This iterative linear process of accepted decision-making theory was the cornerstone of the MAP and JMAP processes. Both were analytical, reductionist decision-making processes that, at least in their purest sense, considered all possible inputs, reduced them to all possible courses of action, and then compared these courses of action to all possible adversary actions. The process suggested that, if all facts were assembled and all possible courses of action were accessed without bias, passion or time constraints, then you would arrive at the optimal outcome. It was also easy to teach: as a process that logically moved from step to step, it lent itself to classroom sequences in which the process could be taught for its own inherent value. Given that the process in its purest sense was never-ending, large staffs could endlessly analyse an infinite array of combinations and variables to prepare various plans and courses of action.[25]
Despite several positive aspects of the MAP and JMAP, both had critical flaws. Over many years of use it became apparent to the author that these reductionist analytical rationalist processes were sometimes quite unsuited to the military environment for which they were designed.[26] A reductionist analytical rationalist process requires certain factors to be present in order to be effective. For example, it requires that limited time is not a pressing factor, objectives are clearly defined, there is a complete understanding of the problem, information is complete, researched and derived, and there are present well-defined problem parameters that do not change.[27] If this environment exists, then planning and decision-making can use a reductionist process and will arrive at an optimal outcome. This approach is perfectly suited for, say, the optimisation of a car assembly line.
The military environment is, however, about as far removed from the environment described above as can be imagined, especially at the tactical and lower operational levels. Time is always short—invariably decisions are made in a time competition with an adversary. Information is always incomplete, untimely or wrong. The situation is always dynamic so that the problem that needs to be solved is constantly morphing. Further, the adversary’s own ‘car assembly line’ shoots back. The Prussian military theorist Major General Carl Philipp Gottfried von Clausewitz reminds us that chance, uncertainty and friction are central to the nature of war, along with the human qualities required to overcome them such as courage, determination and adaptability.[28] Yet these qualities are not taken into account in a reductionist system characterised by the MAP and JMAP.
Western militaries, including the ADF, fought against these realities for many years, propping up processes like the MAP and JMAP rather than accepting that the processes themselves were the root of planning problems.[29] To start, it needs to be emphasised that the processes that anchored the MAP and JMAP are always compromised in some way. Nobody has time to consider all possible outcomes, so the process is invariably abbreviated. Indeed, having more time to plan can be a problem rather than a solution. The more time we take, the more the situation changes—if we take too long the initial inputs to our planning are likely to be obsolete and wrong so that we are now planning for a future response against an increasingly receding past. To use an analogy, this approach is akin to the use of some commercial drones by holiday-makers to take videos on cruise ships. After their video session is completed and the drone is signalled to return, many drones will attempt to land where they were launched and not where the ship has moved to, invariably resulting in the drones crashing into the wake of the ship. Military planning in a large staff can easily face analogous challenges; if too long is taken to consider all angles of a problem and in scripting PowerPoint briefings, the staff will not be able to keep pace with the ever-evolving situation. They will now be planning future actions against an increasingly receding past, and their planning is likely to crash into a hypothetical ship’s wake.
Further examples of how the MAP and JMAP are compromised will come to mind to anyone experienced in the process.[30] Planners do not consider all possible adversary options because there is never the time to do so. Instead, they tend to make do with an assessment of the foe’s ‘most likely’ and ‘most dangerous’ actions. In doing so, they invariably restrict themselves to two or three friendly courses of action in response, because they rarely have time or resources, or even intellectual bandwidth, to do more. Further, there are generally enormous gaps in information available to planners. In response, they tend to cover these deficiencies with assumptions, promising to revise plans if assumptions are proven wrong (though they rarely do so, because of the linear nature of the planning process). Attempts are made to predict exactly how forces will interact by crafting ‘synchronisation matrixes’. While these are useful tools to help militaries envisage operational sequencing during the conceptual planning phase, they are useless (and even dangerous) if used to actually execute an operational plan. After-action reviews usually reveal how quickly forces depart from their synchronisation matrix on operations.[31] Concerningly, staffs will often try to execute their plan rather than adapt to the actual situation on the ground. In some training institutions this problem is avoided by ignoring any study of plan execution altogether. In such scenarios, the plan becomes the end-point of analysis rather than the start.
The compromises made in efforts to apply the MAP and JMAP lead to a clear conclusion. Specifically, these reductionist analytical processes are suitable for planning only when the environment is stable. Such an environment can exist in the military: for example, the science behind many logistics plans and forecasts makes extensive use of analytical processes. But for the planning required for forces coming into contact, in the Clausewitzian environment of chance, uncertainty and friction, alternative planning processes and decision-making methods are required.
The Way We Actually Make Decisions
There is considerable literature on how humans actually make decisions in a time-constrained and ambiguous situation. Noted academics Gary Klein and Daniel Kahneman,[32] for example, suggest that we are much more likely to quickly orientate to possible solutions using our experience. This experience, or heuristics and bias, is hard-wired into us, and we will tend to go with what we intuitively know based on what has worked for us before. Far from rationally and systematically analysing all possible courses of action, we will tend to quickly appreciate what we understand about a situation and act, changing our actions based on how our interaction changes a dynamic situation.
This approach has obvious advantages but also potential dangers when applied to a military situation. The advantage of drawing on previous experience is that it facilitates a speedy response; our tendency to act quickly (even if not perfectly) can have profound advantages in seizing the initiative or forcing an adversary to react to us. The other advantage is that our inclination to act is well attuned to the military environment where we simply cannot predict with any certainty the interplay between forces, and where we cannot plan ourselves out of situations that are unpredictable. The danger is, however, that a familiar response may also be a response that an adversary anticipates, and simplification of a problem to known heuristics may not allow the most creative or optimal use of all available resources.
To achieve sound military decisions, the key is to effectively harness both analytical processes and individuals’ intuitive tendencies. By understanding the strengths and weaknesses of both processes we can use their respective benefits while masking or compensating for their vulnerabilities. The new ADF DMPP doctrine is centred on this approach. As already noted, analytical planning models are extremely useful in certain circumstances, particularly once a decision has been reached and detailed coordination is required. Analytics are very useful for what might be called ‘the science of war’, where facts and figures are the predominant concern. Equally, intuition and heuristics are particularly useful when ambiguity, intangibles and human factors are the primary factors.[33] The challenge is to know when and where to do which. The new doctrine directs that the way to approach this dichotomy is to reflect not on the needs of the staff and the process but instead on the person actually responsible and accountable for the decisions, the plan and the outcomes: the commander.
The Centrality of the Commander
At the outset, it is worthwhile to observe that there has never been an academy in Prussia or any other Western country that specifically focuses on the training of commanders. Over history, monarchies did not need such institutions because senior commanders were invariably appointed from within the nobility, who, with their ‘special breeding’ and ‘innate, often divine talents’ were already perfectly suited to command.[34] Beyond such assumptions, there was also some practical political reasoning behind selecting commanders in this way. After all, for countries that were ruled by monarchs, a loss in war might mean the loss of kingdoms. While this approach may seem quaint to us today, there are still vestiges of it apparent in the modern ADF. We should not forget, for example, that Royal Military College Duntroon was not established to produce commanders but to train staff officers; cadets were called staff cadets because they were destined to be staff officers, not commanders.[35] Commanders would come from the citizen forces—individuals whose skill in business could be expected to translate to military command. The same was true of the naval training institution HMAS Creswell: its purpose was to produce midshipmen for the ‘Grand Fleet’, not to produce commanders of Australian warships. After all, it was assumed that these vessels would be commanded by British officers on loan from the Royal Navy.[36] It would also be fair to say that, even to this day, officer promotion (and other) courses tend to focus more on improving staff processes and staff functions than on improving commanders’ ability to command.[37] During peacetime, staff work is often valued more highly, and is demonstrably more obvious and tangible, than command in battle. This being the case, the ADF’s individual and collective training programs rarely reflect on the specific needs of the commander. A commander’s experience on a military exercise is not the same as focused training; commanders need training at least as much as staff do.
The Australian Army’s emphasis on staff training during formal courses has tended to diminish the importance of the commander and the chain of command, and their relationship with the staff. As a means to begin to rectify this, and as a departure from past planning doctrine, the new DMPP doctrine directly addresses this relationship.
Either the commander will be given a task by their higher commander, or the situation will have changed to such an extent that the existing orders under which subordinates are acting are no longer appropriate. The commander starts by understanding the problem they have been set, and then visualising possible responses. This understanding and visualisation is a personal response, and will invariably draw more upon heuristics and intuition than detailed analysis. A commander’s response is automatic and very human—it actually takes considerable mental effort to not start formulating intuitive responses. Such a response starts as soon as the situation starts changing: in orders groups, commanders are continually focusing on their tasks while the orders are in progress, mentally visualising possible responses. As information enters a command post or reaches a commander through personal observation, they are able to continue to speedily identify and develop initial responses to the changing situation.
What happens next depends on the commander’s ability to respond to the emerging situation. Inevitably, a commander will pattern match; that is, they will mentally scour their past experiences or knowledge gained from professional study to match a response, or pattern, to the situation. Through the process of pattern matching, the commander can recognise the level of uncertainty that exists between the needs of the situation and their ability to identify an appropriate response.[38] In some cases, there may be zero uncertainty; that is, a commander has sufficient information and experience to both see what immediately needs to be done and identify an appropriate response. In this case, the commander can decide and act immediately without further consideration. By contrast, the commander may be completely uncertain and unable to identify any workable response. In both examples, planning will not help the commander to respond. In the first, the commander has reached a decision immediately. In the second, no amount of planning will solve uncertainty, except in the rare situation in which the uncertainty is about a ‘friendly forces’ situation or capability. Even then, the uncertainty arises more from an information gap than a planning problem. As these examples illustrate, the key start point for any commander’s response is their knowledge base: knowledge which is derived from experience, training or both. The greater the commander’s knowledge, the broader and deeper will be their pattern library. The better the quality of their pattern library, the better able they are to quickly orientate to a problem and match a pattern that aids both rapid and appropriate responses.
If the commander is so central to the process of operational decision-making, one can rightly question what the purpose of the planning staff is. In answering this question, it is important to reinforce what the staff do not do—they do not do the commander’s job. This fact can be forgotten in the application of staff planning processes. Based on the way these processes are taught, and staffs exercised, someone unfamiliar with the process can come to believe that the planning process is a staff-led, commander-approved process. From this perspective, the commander is seen as a bit player who wanders in for briefings at key intervals, is presented options by the staff, mumbles some casual observations, and only returns for the next briefing. While this model might have some value when teaching the process (albeit it requires very careful expectation management), it does not represent operational need or the key role and responsibility of the commander. It is the commander’s plan, not the staff’s. The commander drives the plan to meet their needs.
The staff does have a key role, most of which starts after the commander makes a decision rather than before. The staff uses its power to undertake the second primary function of planning—coordinating the detail needed to execute the plan. Their role is far more the science of war than the art: their job is to answer the commander’s remaining uncertainty and then produce an executable plan. While a good staff and good commander will not stubbornly sit in their respective lanes, and a commander uses their staff to cover their bias and provide options, the main role of the staff is to provide the detail. They need to be able to effortlessly and quickly turn concepts and ideas into executable plans. That is their key strength and responsibility, rather than doing the commander’s job.
Who Are We Actually Planning For? The Importance of Subordinates
It is easy for staff to become focused on answering the mail from their higher headquarters and fulfilling the needs of their commander. It should never be forgotten, however, that commanders and staff write plans and issue orders for subordinates to execute. Therefore, commanders must exercise care when tasking staff, providing the appropriate balance between unified effort and freedom of action. Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery identified this requirement clearly, stating in his memoirs:
[My] war experience led me to believe that the staff must be the servant of the troops, and that a good staff officer must serve his commander and the troops but himself be anonymous.[39]
An effective set of orders should be in the form of confirmatory notes rather than a revelation delivered from ‘on high’. Subordinates should never be surprised by orders; nor should orders be the first indication of an operation. Subordinates should be involved in planning as often and as soon as possible, with parallel planning facilitated where possible. The earlier they are involved in the development of orders, the earlier they will understand the thought process behind the orders and thereby be in a position to develop their part of the action. Coordination between the staff and lower echelons leads to one of the most important outcomes of any good set of orders, and that is an intimate understanding by subordinates of the commander’s intent. If subordinates are part of the process as the commander directs his staff and articulates what is important and what is not, they can more readily adapt to a changing situation while still operating within their commander’s intent—a most useful output from orders. Similarly, it is too easy in a formal orders group to miss some of the nuances of supporting or flanking call signs. By contributing to the planning process, subordinates gain a broader awareness of all the parts that make up the whole, and a better awareness of how their tasks contribute to the overall operational outcome.
In addition to the renewed emphasis on the role of the commander, the new DMPP also emphasises the importance of adaptation during execution. Part of this adaptation is achieved in the way subordinates are tasked. Specifically, a subordinate should be given task(s), purpose and groupings but never a mission. This assertion may seem a little odd at first, and may start to sound as if we are chasing the elusive magic of Auftragtaktik, so well discussed in David Stahel’s accompanying essay.[40] While seemingly incongruous, however, the idea of decentralised execution and intuition required by all commanders is deeply rooted in Australian doctrine.
Operational orders ordinarily adhere to a five-paragraph format. This format has a lineage far older than when the Australian Army began to study German theory. In this structure, there is only ever one mission statement. It appears in paragraph two and states the mission of the issuing command. The only mission that should be within an operational order is this one mission, the mission of the issuing command. Paragraph three describes the groupings and tasks, and often the purpose, for subordinates, but it does not set their missions. The specified tasks will generally be expressed using a ‘task verb’ (defined in doctrine) that describes an action or activity specifically assigned to an individual or organisation. Subordinates, however, are not bound specifically by this direction. They can alter the action or activity after analysis or as the situation changes. Subordinates are therefore expected to derive their mission by conducting analysis and arriving at their own mission. They do this by combining their understanding of their superior’s mission (as stated in paragraph two), their understanding, and ideally intimate knowledge of the commander’s intent and their own tasks and purpose. From this they derive their mission, which must be nested and bound by the three ‘lenses’ described above. Where circumstances permit, subordinates should brief the concept of their plan to their superior, who then has the opportunity to provide alignment where necessary, and then the concept is theirs to fulfil.
It is profoundly important that subordinate elements own their own mission. It is the principle upon which the deeper philosophies of mission command and decentralised execution are based. As Colonel-General Hans von Seeckt[41] once wrote:
[I]n contrast to the binding order interfering in details of execution, the goal to be achieved is designated with assignment of resources, but with full freedom for the execution of the order. This viewpoint underscores a healthy understanding that he who bears the responsibility for success must also choose the way to achieve it. Just as it is a sign of weak spirit to shirk a responsibility, so it is arrogance to usurp a task that one is not responsible for.[42]
Coupled with the responsibility to derive one’s own mission is the motivation to achieve it within the commander’s intent. Missions can and should change during their execution, and subordinates have both the right and responsibility to make such changes as the situation evolves. This approach is not radical; nor in adopting this procedure is the ADF aping another country’s command and leadership philosophy or decision-making process. It is deeply ingrained in Australian doctrine. To illustrate, the 1970 ‘Division in Battle’ doctrine has this to say:
Departure from Orders.
Notwithstanding the greatest skill and care in framing orders, unexpected circumstances may render the precise execution of an order unsuitable or impracticable. In such circumstances the following principles will guide the recipient of an order in deciding his course of action:
- A formal order is never to be departed from, either in the letter or spirit, so long as the officer who issued it is present, or there is time to report to him and await a reply without losing an opportunity or endangering the force
- If the conditions in Sub-paragraph a. cannot be fulfilled, a departure from either the spirit or the letter of an order is justified if the subordinate who assumes the responsibility bases his decision on facts which could not be known to the officer who issued the order, and if he is satisfied that he is acting as his superior would order him to act were he
- If a subordinate neglects to depart from the letter of his orders when such departure is clearly demanded, he will be held responsible for any failure that may ensue.
- Should a subordinate find it necessary to depart from an order, he is to inform the originator and the commanders of any neighbouring forces likely to be affected, as a matter of urgency.[43]
Sub-paragraph c of this doctrine is particularly instructive. It both encourages subordinates to continually assess their mission and actually demands it of them, holding them accountable if they do not. This is how speed, agility and adaptability happen in combat—the quickest order is the one that does not have to be given because subordinates are already acting on their own initiative, sensing the threat or opportunity, and having the bias for action and joy in the responsibility to act. This realisation needs to be drummed into subordinates at the earliest opportunity, and every opportunity needs to be given in training to encourage this state of mind and sense of responsibility. Granting subordinates responsibility for their missions builds the basis of experience that becomes the foundation of pattern matching. But this opportunity is useless if the subordinate leader is not willing and prepared to use it. Therefore, despite uncertainty, anxiety and doubt, commanders must encourage subordinates to act. This takes patience and forbearance, and the acceptance of risk and the tolerance of mistakes in execution, but no other method survives and flourishes in the demands of combat.
Conclusion
This article is not an attempt to paraphrase the new doctrine released by the CDF—nothing substitutes for reading it and applying it. Instead, it has explained the fundamental shifts in thinking that underpin the doctrine. The staff, and its processes, have a long legacy, taking different styles and forms as they have evolved to the modern day. As has been described, the old planning process used by the staff—the reductionist and analytical approach—required a specific environment to be useful. While this environment could sometimes be found in a military context, especially when the science of war was required, it was generally disrupted by the friction, uncertainty and chance that characterises war. In an increasingly volatile and uncertain strategic environment, the ADF needs to turn to more naturalistic intuitive decision-making processes supported by the useful detail of analytics.
A planning process rarely exists by itself, yet previous ADF planning doctrine, and the way it was sometimes taught, could lead one to believe that the process was an end in itself.[44] The centrality of the commander to the process, therefore, has been enhanced in the new doctrine, and the relationship between the commander and their staff is iteratively illustrated. This new approach enhances adaptability during execution, and more fully accounts for how the involvement, tasking and training of subordinates is a key part of the whole decision-making process. It emphasises that learning a planning process for its own value is unsatisfactory and incomplete; the process must lead to sound and effective operational outcomes, specifically decisions that motivate and energise military forces. Good decision-making and sound planning processes exist to maximise the chance of success in war. Sound doctrine takes us some way forward to achieving this success.
Endnotes
[1] M Ryan, The Ryan Review: A Study of Army’s Education, Training and Doctrine (Australian Army Research Centre, 2016), p. 90. The author often hears anecdotes that at Command and Staff College, for example, the Army students are given the lead by others in many of the planning tasks.
[2] M Cook, J Noyes and Y Masakowski (eds), Decision Making in Complex Environments (CRC Press, 2007), p. xxxii.
[3] The ADF’s doctrinal definition of command is ‘The authority which a commander in the military lawfully exercises over subordinates by virtue of rank or assignment’. Command also includes the authority and responsibility for effectively using available resources and for planning the employment of organising, directing, coordinating and controlling military forces for the accomplishment of assigned missions. Australian Defence Force, ADF-P-0 Command, Edition 1, AL 1 (2024), p. 2.
[4] Control is defined as ‘The authority exercised by a commander over part of the activities of subordinate organisations, or other organisations not normally under their command, which encompasses the responsibility for implementing orders or directives’. It includes responsibility for health, welfare, morale and discipline of assigned personnel. All or part of this authority may be transferred or delegated. Ibid., p. 39.
[5] Australian Defence Force, ADF-I-5 Decision Making and Planning Processes (2024).
[6] J Keegan, A History of Warfare (London: Pimlico, 1993), p. 63.
[7] B Montgomery, A History of Warfare (London: Janes, 1982), p. 89
[8] P Cartledge, Alexander The Great: The Hunt for a New Past (London: Macmillan, 2005), pp. 157–159.
[9] F Fazekas, ‘The Evolution of Military Staffs and the Possible Effects of Artificial Intelligence’, in International Conference Knowledge-based Organisations XXVII, no. 1 (2021): 34.
[10] D Irvine, ‘The French and German Staff Systems Before 1870’, Journal of American History Foundation 2, no. 4 (1938): 124.
[11] E Vovsi, ‘Paul Thiébault and the Development of the French Staff System from Ancien Régime to the Revolution’, The Napoleon Series (website), at: www.napoleon-series.org.
[12] M Van Creveld, Command in War (Harvard University Press, 1985), pp. 65–67.
[13] C Millotat, Understanding the Prussian-German General Staff System’ (SSI, US Army War College, 1992), p. 12.
[14] Ibid., p. 19.
[15] Van Creveld, Command, p. 110.
[16] J Corum, The Roots of Blitzkrieg: Hans von Seeckt and German Military Reform (University Press of Kansas, 1992), p. 25.
[17] Keegan, A History, p. 377.
[18] L Ordonez, Military Operational Planning and Strategic Moves (Springer, 2017), p. 21.
[19] J Storr, Something Rotten: Land Command in the 21st Century (Hampshire: Howgate Publishing, 2022), p. 113.
[20] This allusion is to ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ (German: ‘Der Zauberlehrling’), a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe written in 1797. The poem begins as an old sorcerer departs his workshop, leaving his apprentice with chores to perform. Tired of fetching water by bucket, the apprentice enchants a broom to do the work for him, using magic in which he is not fully trained. The floor is soon awash with water, and the apprentice realises that he cannot stop the broom because he does not know the magic required to do so. Staff officers at large headquarters can both feel and act like the brooms, constantly producing staff work with little visibility of its value or how it connects with the bigger picture. See ‘Works’, Babelmatrix (website), at: https://www.babelmatrix.org/works/de/goethe.
[21] The author was a student at Australian Command and Staff College in 1995 and was part of a small team selected to trial the new planning process.
[22] Australian Defence Force, LWD 5-1-4 The Military Appreciation Process (2009).
[23] Australian Defence Force, ADFP 5.0.1 The Joint Military Appreciation Process (2019).
[24] L Buchanan and A O’Connell, ‘A Brief History of Decision Making’, Harvard Business Review, January 2006, at: https://hbr.org/2006/01/a-brief-history-of-decision-making.
[25] This facet of the MAP and JMAP process was observed by the author while teaching it for nine years on Army’s premier tactics course, the Combined Officers Advanced Course, and again while serving on a large coalition staff in Afghanistan in 2011–12. This latter experience further identified that one of the most common phenomena in low-tempo operations is a feeling of drift and boredom. It is very hard to identify progress; change is slow and often only identifiable in retrospect. With large staffs, and not much of real significance happening on a daily basis, staff work filled the void and kept people busy. Staff work fed the daily battle rhythm rather than meeting the needs of the operation/campaign.
[26] R Lempert, ‘Robust Decision Making’, in V Marchau, W Walker, P Bloemen and S Popper (eds), Decision Making Under Deep Uncertainty (Switzerland: Springer, 2019), p. 13.
[27]Australian Defence Force, ADF-I-5 Decision Making and Planning Processes, p. 10.
[28] Carl von Clausewitz, On War (Princeton University Press, 1976 [1832]), p. 119.
[29] Lempert, ‘Robust Decision Making’, p. 25.
[30] These are common issues identified by the author.
[31] The Combat Training Centre trend reports are full of examples. Many are available through The Cove or Smart Soldier. See The Cove (website), at: https://cove.army.gov.au/.
[32] Gary Klein’s work can be found at Gary Klein (website), at: https://www.gary-klein.com. One of the late Daniel Kahneman’s more popular books is D Kahneman, Thinking Fast and Slow (London: Penguin, 2012).
[33] For further exploration of the ‘art’ and ‘science’ of war, see Beatrice Heuser, ‘Theory and Practice, Art and Science in Warfare: An Etymological Note’, in Daniel Marson and Tamara Leahy (eds), War, Strategy and History: Essays in Honour of Professor Robert O’Neill (Canberra: Australian National University Press, 2016), pp. 179–196.
[34] As late as World War I, many armies were commanded by nobles or even monarchs. King Albert took to the field as head of the Belgian Army, and William, the crown prince of Prussia, commanded the Fifth Army advancing into Alsace. See B Tuchman, The Guns of August (London: Robinson, 1962).
[35] D Moore, Duntroon: A History of the Royal Military College in Australia, 1911–2001 (RMC, 2003).
[36] See ‘The Royal Australian Naval College’s Debt to Admiral Creswell’, Naval Historical Society of Australia (website), at: https://navyhistory.au/the-royal-australian-naval-colleges-debt-to-admiral-creswell/.
[37] In my own career, all courses concentrated on staff work far more than they did on operational command. Perhaps instructively, most Army courses separate the training on command, leadership and management from the operations component, and the former is often esoteric, conceptual and general rather than specifically aimed at operational command.
[38] ‘Pattern matching’ and ‘recognition primed decision making’ are terms used by Gary Klein. See Gary Klein (website). See also K Ross, G Klein, P Thunholm, J Schmitt and H Baxter, ‘The Recognition Primed Decision Model’, Military Review 84, no. 4 (2004).
[39] B Montgomery, The Memoirs of Field-Marshal Montgomery (London: Collins, 1958), p. 35.
[40] David Stahel, ‘Auftragstaktik: The Prussian-German Origins and Applications of Mission Command’, Australian Army Journal Volume 21, no. 3 (2025).
[41] Chief of the German General Staff 1919–1920 and Army Commander 1920–1926. Von Seeckt is credited with forming the intellectual underpinning of the later Wehrmacht, particularly its command philosophy. See J Corum, The Roots of Blitzkrieg.
[42] Quoted in E Middeldorf, Führung und Gefecht: Grundriß der Taktik (Frankfurt am Main: Bernard and Graefe, 1968), p. 68. Emphasis added by this author. Some commentators express concern that any military should follow or study German methods from the two world wars, given the reasons why the Germans were fighting and especially the odious political leadership in the second. Professionals can separate why the Germans fought from how they fought, and much can be learned from the leadership theories of thinkers and leaders such as von Seeckt. This is not modern whitewashing; to quote from the diary of Field Marshal Viscount Alanbrooke on 23 May 1940 as he withdrew his corps in the face of the German advance through Belgium and France, ‘It is a fortnight since the German advance started and the success they have achieved is nothing short of phenomenal. There is no doubt that they are the most wonderful soldiers’. A Bryant, The Turn of the Tide 1939–1945 (London: Collins, 1958), p. 101.
[43] Australian Army, The Division in Battle Pamphlet 1: Organisation and Tactics, Australian Army Doctrine (obsolete) (1970), p. 6–2.
[44] This is a personal observation.