How the Profession of Arms Thought and Fought the Modern World into Existence
Naval Institute Press, 2017, ISBN 1682470679, 352 pp
Written by: Reed Robert Bonadonna
Reviewed By: Andrew Kirby
Just who is a member of the ‘profession of arms’? For most soldiers, the answer is instinctively that they are—but what does that mean? Former Chief of Army, Lieutenant General Simon Stuart, defined the Army profession as comprising, jurisdiction, expertise, and the capacity for self-regulation. He argued the profession is grounded in ‘the unique service that we provide for the society we serve’, sustained by a ‘professional body of knowledge’, and maintained through ‘the ability to maintain good order, discipline and accountability among the corrupting nature of war’.[1] These three points provide an accessible articulation of army professionalism, yet, by necessity, they compress a far more complex historical and intellectual fabric. While Lieutenant General Stuart’s discussion was explicitly framed around the Army profession at the service level, this review uses Bonadonna’s work to engage the broader concept of the profession of arms.
Unpacking the core of this topic – namely military professionalism – is the central theme of Reed Robert Bonadonna’s Soldiers and Civilisation. It explores how the profession of arms has been shaped over time by the evolving relationship between soldiers and the societies they serve. The book is structured broadly along a chronological arc, moving from classical antiquity through the medieval and early modern periods to the contemporary era, with each section using historical case studies to explore the evolving relationship between soldiers and society. While framed as a study of the profession of arms, Bonadonna’s analysis is expressly situated in the land domain, focusing on soldiers and armies, with modest attention to maritime or joint perspectives. This emphasis shapes both his historical narrative and his conception of military professionalism.
Bonadonna commences his book by surveying writers in various disciplines who have attempted to codify the profession of arms. He begins with the sociological tradition, particularly the work of Samuel Huntington and Morris Janowitz, whose frameworks have long shaped military understandings of professionalism. While acknowledging their influence, he is ultimately dissatisfied with their emphasis on external characteristics—such as institutional roles and formal expertise—which, he argues, risk downplaying the ‘inner and essential aspects’ of the profession.[2] Taken to their logical conclusion, such definitions exclude large portions of the military workforce, particularly enlisted personnel, whose development is often framed in terms of training rather than professional military education. Bonadonna is more inclined towards historical perspectives, such as that of Russell Weigley, Williamson Murray and William Skelton, to advance his own broader, and more integrated conception. He argues that the profession of arms is not merely a function of institutional structure or technical expertise, but is grounded in a ‘deeper understanding of human nature, culture, values, and language.’[3] This leads him to define a profession as an ‘occupational institution that makes a broad contribution to society. It comprises a transmittable body of knowledge (some of it abstract) and an ethic that is specific to the profession but relatable to society’.[4] Crucially, this conception extends beyond knowledge and ethics to encompass ‘cognition, beliefs, communications, leadership, trust and character’, presenting the profession as a complex and evolving social institution.[5]
The author’s framework complements and expands the definition of the Army profession within the study of military professionalism. The pillars of jurisdiction, expertise, and self-regulation remain, corresponding to the profession’s service to society, its body of knowledge, and its internal standards of discipline and accountability. However, Bonadonna’s account introduces additional dimensions—the centrality of communication, leadership, and shared cultural understanding—that expand the foundation for professionalism. Most significantly, the book underscores that the profession of arms cannot stand apart from the society it serves. The social contract that creates the military’s ‘jurisdiction’ is not a one off ‘initial issue’ to the profession – it demands constant engagement by the military in thought leadership and dialogue with the society it serves.
Bonadonna develops this understanding through a broad historical sweep, using key periods as illustrations. Beginning in antiquity, he examines the transition from the citizen-soldier of the Roman Republic to the minimally enfranchised professional soldier of the Empire. This shift, he argues, came at a cost to the Roman social contract, eroding ‘self-respect, civic pride, and civilian control’, and in doing so planting the seeds of Rome’s eventual decline.[6] Professionalism, divorced from civic identity, becomes a source of fragility not strength. A similar theme emerges in his treatment of the medieval period in chapter four. While knights are often portrayed as a distinct warrior class—the pinnacle of the Norman war machine—Bonadonna emphasises their enduring integration within civil society. As landholders, lawmakers, and local leaders, they embodied a model of the ‘complete soldier’, whose military role was inseparable from broader social responsibilities. Here, professionalism is not defined by separation from society, but by embeddedness within it.
Across the early modern and eighteenth centuries, Bonadonna traces the gradual consolidation of recognisably modern forms of military professionalism. Increasing technical education, specialisation, and the demands of sustained campaigning contributed to the development of standing forces with distinct institutional identities. Yet, particularly within the Anglosphere, these forces retained important ‘geographic connections’ to the societies they served, enabling armies to function as ‘self-replicating national institutions’ rather than isolated professional enclaves. The acceleration of these trends in the twentieth century, particularly following the disruptions of the First and Second World Wars, further sharpened this tension. The expansion of technical expertise, bureaucratic structures, and global deployment reinforced the military’s professional autonomy. While this development enhanced the disciplined application of force, it also introduced the risk of divergence between the military’s understanding of its professional identity and the society it serves.
In this context two conclusions emerge. First, that the military must take responsibility for educating its members in ‘the history of their profession’, recognising that professionalism is not merely a function of current doctrine but of accumulated institutional knowledge. Second, that the profession of arms must remain in active discourse with civilian society. This requires not only explaining its role, but also adapting its own values where necessary, or seeking to shape broader societal perceptions in order to sustain legitimacy. In an era marked by persistent conflict and strategic uncertainty, these insights raise important questions for contemporary forces. How well does society understand the nature of the profession of arms? If that understanding is incomplete, where does responsibility for its development lie? And what are the implications for the use of force by the state if a gap emerges between military professionalism and societal expectation?
Soldiers and Civilization is an ambitious work, seeking to demonstrate that soldiers have not merely defended civilisation, but actively forged it. While this claim provides the book with its animating thesis, it is not where its greatest strength lies. Instead, Bonadonna’s contribution is his exploration of how the profession of arms emerges from the society it serves—and how this relationship shapes its intellectual foundations, ethical commitments, and identity. In this respect, the book serves as a valuable addition to the professional military reading canon, sitting comfortably between foundational works such as Huntington’s The Soldier and the State and more contemporary reflections on command and leadership. The most important insight from Bonadonna’s sweeping historical account is that military institutions inevitably reflect the values and assumptions of the societies from which they are drawn. In this respect, Soldiers and Civilization is less a definitive account of how soldiers forged civilisation than a compelling demonstration of how civilisation has, in turn, forged the profession of arms.
Endnotes
[1] Simon Stuart, Chief of Army Professional Study Guide 2025 (Canberra: Australian Army Research Centre, 2025), 2.
[2] Reed Robert Bonadonna, Soldiers and Civilization: How the Profession of Arms Thought and Fought the Modern World into Existence (Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2017), 8.
[3] Bonadonna, Soldiers and Civilization, 12
[4] ibid
[5] ibid
[6] Bonadonna, Soldiers and Civilization, 65
