Many of my support assignments are linked to organisational issues… Implementing, with the teams concerned, a new “imposed” organisation, or developing the existing organisation with them to better meet the challenges of the moment…
Because in this area, there is never an ideal organisation. Only collective ways of working and interactions to optimise.
Despite the differences between the two worlds, or perhaps because of them, I often find myself making cross-observations between civilian and military dynamics.
Of course, there are notable differences.
Where a “civilian” dysfunction can lead to losses of efficiency and/or profitability – damaging in economic terms and even in terms of jobs, and therefore serious for the individuals concerned and their families – the consequences in a world where “defeat is not an option” are far more dramatic: deaths, loss of freedom, even the disappearance of a people or a model of civilisation.
That is why the practices and developments of the military world can sometimes inspire the civilian world. Because “he who can do more can do less”.
But the practices of the civilian world can also very usefully inspire a military world that is constantly confronted with changes in its environment, its context and its challenges. Because the porosity between organisations, contexts of use and equipment – the famous “duality” – is strong. And also because the armed forces are large public organisations, exposed like all their public and private counterparts to organisational and functional drift – bureaucratic expansion in particular, but not only.
Not forgetting organisations with high human stakes (firefighters, nuclear power, aviation, healthcare…), for which an accident with uncontrolled consequences is, here too, dramatic.
A few days ago, the French Joint Force Headquarters (EMFIA) of the Ministry of the Armed Forces held a seminar devoted to “operational art”, or more precisely to the “operational” level in the armed forces. An intermediate level between the “strategic” and the “tactical”.
And behind the term “operational” and the prerogatives allocated to structures at this level lie issues of organisational effectiveness, but also very human subjects…
Many points in common, then, with civilian organisations.
“Who’s the boss?”
That is, to sum it up far too briefly, the question that struck me in the discussions – even though it was not, of course, put that way.
In theory at least, a headquarters is organised to bring together all the needs and, to quote one speaker: “it receives directives and issues orders”.
The “operational” level is, in principle, that of “operations”. And since there are several theatres of operation, the armed forces are organised to staff several “headquarters”. So the geographical scope of each operational headquarters is fairly easy to define.
The parallel with the civilian world is easy here for many companies, which organise at least part of their activity according to a territorial grid. That of production sites (factories, workshops, service centres…) or distribution activities (points of sale, or areas where customers are located…).
These are often “regions”, which do not necessarily correspond to the administrative or state divisions of the same name. One can speak, for example, of the “Greater West”, or of “EMEA” for Europe, Middle East and Africa…
And with this territorial question, we immediately touch on the question of the “boss’s” prerogatives, particularly in large military and civilian organisations – those run, for example, by “COOs” (Chief Operating Officers) or, in France, by “Directeurs Généraux”, when there is an always subtle division of roles between “Chair” and “Chief Executive”.
Because above the “operational” level, there is always another headquarters responsible for a wider scope (wherever French interests may be threatened and therefore defended, for our country’s armed forces; wherever products and services are made and/or sold, for companies).
And in theory, one might think that “the top brass” naturally have better things to do than “micro-manage”, and therefore interfere in lower organisational levels. Yet reality is different… And there is no single-cause explanation, here as in many other matters.
The technological temptation
In the military world as in the civilian world, the omnipresence of information technology has reinforced the temptation of remote control.
Because now that communications are instantaneous – in theory at least, right down to the front line – the temptation can be great to steer the actions of the “strategic corporal” from the highest level, for better or for worse[1].
We will remember, for example, the images of the American President’s “Situation Room” during the assault on Osama Bin Laden’s hideout. The “revolution in military affairs” had indeed come this way, with the temptation to steer the agent on the ground remotely. But in that case, it was more about watching than guiding…
Because, as one of the speakers at the conference pointed out, “bandwidth is often limited”. And while, in the business world, permanent connection is in theory limited only by individual discipline or by the legal constraints of the “right to disconnect”[2], the “fog of war” still exists on the battlefield. Despite “hardening” and the necessary “resilience”.
For these reasons and probably others, subsidiarity remains an important organisational and practical feature of military action. The key being to fully grasp “the commander’s intent”, and to report as much as possible on execution, to allow coordinated action.
When we talk about the technological dimension, we are also talking – more and more, with the proliferation of sensors – about the cognitive dimension of decision-making, and the overload linked to the volumes of information available.
In companies as in the military, artificial intelligence is both used and expected to help overcome this obstacle. Including, for some, to produce orders… with the burning question, particularly in the world of armed conflict, of the place of humans in the decision loop.
Without neglecting the possible contributions of these automation and sorting tools, we will remember the first wave of “digital transformation”, which, with a great many sensors, led to the collection of “data lakes”… Essential ingredients for digitising our world. Provided they could all be collected, analysed and categorised (“tagged”) – and the profession of “data analyst” then enjoyed remarkable growth, both in recognition and in pay… What about the “digital twinning” of our world now?
We are probably not there yet – quite apart from questions of reliability and control over decisions – since “regional divisions” and operational headquarters still exist…
And if only because, especially given the sometimes questionable commercial activism of AI suppliers, trust between humans and machines has yet to be established[3]…
And what about trust, for heaven’s sake?[4]
This question of trust is central to choosing an organisation that best meets the challenges of the moment. And beyond the human-machine relationship mentioned above, starting with the bond between all the very human protagonists – contrary to the unfortunate saying that “trust does not exclude control”.
Control is exercised “over”. Whereas trust makes it possible to act “with”. The former is unequal. The latter is reciprocal.
Because while we often think of trust as “top-down”, it actually works both ways. For a subordinate, or all the more so for a partner not bound by hierarchical ties, reporting in trust – and therefore with complete transparency – on successes but also on difficulties means expecting not a sanction but help. That changes everything.
If only because “human errors” are always, except in cases of deliberate misconduct, the consequences of various organisational dysfunctions (training, resources, ways of working…), and not of people’s ill will.
Trust is no doubt a precious asset of military organisations. Not only an intrinsic asset, linked to the qualities of the women and men who make them up. But also a cultivated asset.
First, there is awareness of the stakes specific to this world, particularly in the context of “shocks”. To ensure the success of a vital mission, for the soldiers engaged and for the interests, even the existence, of the nation, one has to be effective. And economical with resources that are by nature scarce. So there should be no need to wonder about the “motives” behind a decision… It is not the product of egos or ideologies. At least in our democracies, which value human life.
And then there is no doubt also, in this military world, a stronger collective dimension than elsewhere, and the mutual trust that flows from it.
A trust based both on a shared sense of the specific nature of the soldier’s profession. And on institutionalised “pathways” for building and recognising skills – with a legitimacy that comes both from personal qualities and (in principle) from these well-known processes. As well as from shared experiences in extraordinary situations. From initial training through to operations.
Of course, one could argue that this strong cohesion is not only an advantage but can also be a brake on openness, on taking account of synergies with the outside world and the innovations that can arise from them… but that is another topic!
In civilian organisations, this question of trust is naturally just as central. Of course, one instinctively imagines that the “sense of mission” is not as strong in the civilian world as in military contexts. And yet…
Because people’s motivation does not rest only on their “payslip”, there are many factors of individual and collective engagement in companies that underpin the trust one can have in others.
That is why some companies choose highly decentralised organisations: a practice that therefore requires trust, and tact. And which can only rest on a solid common foundation: that of organisations that favour both the social cohesion that nourishes a shared destiny, and the freedom needed for openness, initiative and innovation. The famous “holomorphic” model that we describe and put into practice in sociodynamics.
An organisational model suited to “normal times”, but also to long-lasting crises, which cannot rely on a verticality that will inevitably exhaust itself and shut itself away in dangerous cognitive isolation.
But because of the bureaucratic drift of any organisation, including those dedicated to armed conflict – and in particular because, far from immediate action, one can feel “less concerned” – trust is essential to allow goodwill to be fully exercised, but it is not enough.
That is why organisation must support human interactions, to make them legible, understandable and, as far as possible, lasting.
The map is not the territory
Even if a military operation is in principle placed under the responsibility of the command of the “theatre of operations”, for the many reasons mentioned above, the “higher level” is still always likely to intervene – not only to supervise, nor to “control”.
There may be reasons of scarce resources: satellite data, for example, which cannot be dedicated to a specific operation, but only pooled. And which therefore depend on a third-party command, requiring a higher level of coordination or even arbitration.
And also because the military level cannot be dissociated from the territory on which the operation takes place.
The experts and practitioners recalled this at the conference: a military intervention always takes place (at least in our recent past) “in someone else’s home”. Hence a political and diplomatic dimension that the military take into account (with “POLADs”, political advisers who bring this knowledge to the military commander, who nevertheless does not have full authority in this area). A rather different dimension, which shows that no “vertical” structure is ever “pure”.
Because even on national territory, and unless no one lives in the area concerned, the influence of “local civilian authorities” can be expected to remain an unavoidable parameter, regardless of legal prerogatives, and even if the “survival of the nation” is at stake.
Civilian companies also know, relatively speaking, this territorial dimension. Particularly when local entities have to implement directives imposed by the global organisation… Reductions or increases in headcount linked to reorganisations that change needs for housing, shops, training…; changes in working hours that affect local mobility…
Translating directives into orders, like their military counterparts. And therefore finding a sustainable balance between overall consistency, execution of the strategy and the reality of implementation… With local legal constraints, influences and conflicts.
Finally, the territorial dimension has other limits: the map of operations does not always fully describe the “theatre of operations” in the geographical sense.
This is true of military operations. With technical means, particularly air power, that can strike “behind” the front line. But also with methods, such as cognitive warfare, that naturally go beyond the “operational theatre” alone.
It is also true of business activities. If only because your organisation’s map is not necessarily that of your customers, or your suppliers. And synergies will therefore have to be organised between “theatres of operations”. Not forgetting global issues such as the impact on a company’s overall image of an event that is nonetheless local… which justify action by the central level, with its own expertise.
This is notably why “matrix” organisations exist. To provide complementary expertise, on an ad hoc basis. Or because the “front” is not always clearly bounded.
From pooling to matrix organisations
The “pooling” of resources is common in organisations, and often criticised by supporters of “vertical” organisations or of single “leadership”. Yet it meets real needs, and has certain advantages.
Let us take a simple example: if three entities need expertise, the ideal is naturally to provide three experts – one per entity, and one per “boss”.
But constraints may arise.
A financial constraint, which does not allow three experts to be recruited, but only one.
Faced with this constraint, the organisation may be tempted to recruit three beginners for an equivalent budget. But expertise does not add up that way.
There may also be an availability constraint, for scarce skills. However much you pay, you cannot find them… And you cannot reasonably cut the expert into three…
Pooling is then required – the same resource serving three entities, and therefore three bosses…
The volume of expert work is sometimes not enough to justify a full-time position. Which, beyond mere financial profitability, very quickly raises the question of the expert’s professional recognition. They will get bored and leave (since the skill is scarce). Or one will be tempted to give them additional tasks – often with the same result.
Finally, there is also the collective issue of the “critical mass” of expertise. Individual expertise, at the risk of withering, can only be nourished by belonging to a collective dynamic. This can be outsourced through professional networks of experts – subject to the confidentiality of possible exchanges. But if complex problems have to be solved, or a permanent service guaranteed, 24/7 for example, grouping similar expertise together becomes necessary.
And matrix organisations then make full sense, by formalising these “centres of expertise” within organisations, placed at the service of the entities producing goods or services for the organisation’s external customers.
By way of illustration, this is the logic of NATO’s “Centres of Excellence”[5], which devise and test concepts and train personnel in the expertise required.
And it is in fact the thinking the French Armed Forces Staff appears to be pursuing, particularly regarding this “operational” level, since EMFIA – which organised this conference and had taken over from the Joint Operations Command in summer 2023 [6] [7] – could become an “expert centre” in summer 2024. No longer being “one more layer” in an organisational mille-feuille that can complicate decision-making and weaken action during “shocks” that leave no room for delay or indecision, but asserting its added value as experts.
A key question, both on substance (the “rationality” of the decision) and on acceptability, by the “experts” concerned and by those who will, or will not, recognise them as such.
Many civilian organisations have also chosen these “centres of expertise” or “of excellence”. Names that sometimes have unexpected effects but reveal the underlying trends in an organisation’s “morale”. Because while some are proud to belong to these centres, others fear being put out to pasture in a unit that will eventually be closed for lack of identified added value. In the first case, people believe in the future. In the other…
Let us end this (long[8]) look at organisational questions with a very human question, like that of trust. That of responsibility.
The head of operations is the one who signs the plan
It is worth noting that, in form and beyond questions of substance, the conference gave rise to more or less polite fencing between the speakers, serving or former practitioners of these organisations.
And behind the restrained emotion, one could sense a noble feeling, the source of the professional and personal commitment specific to those who expressed it, but also nurtured by their experience of armed engagements. The sense of responsibility.
Because, when it comes to organisation, one cannot settle for the “rational” pursuit of effectiveness alone. When the question is a “technical” one, the engineer’s thinking and ability to solve complex problems are indispensable. And unfortunately too little valued in our country – as the difficulty of recruiting these essential profiles shows.
And one might be tempted, as far as “organisation” is concerned, to consider that this too is a “technical” question. But since it is a matter of organising human systems, we enter the intrinsic complexity of socio-technical systems, in which “what is rational” and “what is less so” both come into play[9].
To quote one of the speakers, “the operational level is the one who signs the plan”.
For the military commander, the responsibility of signing the plan is that of committing the lives of his soldiers. And of succeeding or failing in a mission whose consequences will go far beyond all of them.
A dimension that sets him apart from the civilian decision-maker, one might say. Except that, in the event of an accident, the latter’s responsibility is also directly engaged. Legal, economic and moral responsibility too. Not in the same proportions, admittedly. But our perception of reality is always relative, and the capacity of business leaders to fully shoulder their responsibilities, even at the expense of their health, shows it. They, admittedly, do not die of it… Well, not always.
This question of responsibility is too often reduced to its legal dimension. No doubt because we are rarely comfortable with feelings. Our own as well as those of others.
Perhaps this is also one of the reasons for the technological temptation, which suggests that with machines, decisions remain “rational”, free from human emotions… That is to forget that machines are coded, at least initially, by people driven by emotions – what are sometimes identified as “biases” in artificial intelligence systems, and which are not errors but intrinsic qualities (and flaws).
So is it “rational” to surrender one’s own emotions to the power of those of others?
And perhaps this is one of the strengths, but also one of the weaknesses, of those who grew up in the land of Descartes…
A French specificity?
To conclude this reflection, I also noted, at this conference, a remark by another speaker that, in the context of the international organisations in which our forces are integrated (NATO in particular), this close attention paid by the French to organisational prerogatives was viewed rather lightly by their counterparts from other countries. For the latter, these questions were ultimately fairly secondary because, in the end, people would always come to an understanding.
Of course, let us not forget the imperative of clarity and speed in decision-making and in the transmission of orders. But let us also keep in mind that our tradition is particularly “verticalist” (some say “monarchist”). And that, in every professional world, it comes up against other cultures more steeped in the balance of power, negotiation and collective intelligence.
This “culture shock” probably partly explains the fascination of some with authoritarian regimes and the bureaucratic organisations that accompany them or sometimes precede them, accustoming the greatest number to obedience without conscience, disengagement and the refusal of all responsibility. But also the chaos that inevitably accompanies these vertical models because, in the end, the organisation is not ideal, and people always have to “muddle through”.
Between the rigid model and absolute self-organisation, there is an infinite number of organisational models. From the clearest, which stifles, to the one that liberates but may lack the reference points some people need.
An anecdote… I was supporting the implementation, in a large multinational company, of a matrix organisation with several dimensions (more than two).
This model had many advantages in terms of organisational agility, to adapt to the specific features of geographical areas, to the emergence or disappearance of certain skills, and to support the development of new products (or possibly withdrawal from others).
But I also remember the disarray of the “Swiss German” teams (let us own the double cliché, combining two cultures perceived as “not very flexible”…) faced with the consequences of this “organisation chart”, which looked more like a collection of “organisational bubbles”… But who is my boss?
So, to console ourselves, let us accept that we are not alone in the world in having to face these questions…
And to talk about them, let’s meet!
[1] Michel Goya, « Le caporal stratégique, ou peut-on confiner la connerie ? », June 2020, https://lavoiedelepee.blogspot.com/2020/06/le-caporal-strategique-ou-peut-on.html
[2] Even if, to the great delight of those who still believe in human creativity, practices regularly emerge that show the intrinsic ineffectiveness of technological control… Such as the “automatic mouse movers” regularly denounced by employers who thought they could measure the professional commitment of their “remote workers” by remotely monitoring cursor movements on the screen…
[3] https://www.kaqi.fr/en/cognitive-warfare-the-role-of-companies/
[4] The title of an excellent book, « Et la confiance, bordel ? », Institut Montaigne, 2014
[5] https://www.nato.int/cps/fr/natohq/topics_68372.htm
[6] https://www.defense.gouv.fr/ema/commandement-operations-interarmees-cpoia
[7] “Faced with logistical, informational and geopolitical challenges, the military institution is considering internal adjustments and rationalisation. With this in mind, the Joint Operations Command is to be restructured and some of its missions distributed to other entities”, Intelligence Online, 17 May 2023
[8] Sometimes it is important to take a less direct route than the straight line. Like the flight of a cruise missile whose trajectory, in the words of a prestigious speaker, can be described as “the name of the Chief of the Defence Staff written in Cyrillic”…
[9] The two sides of my operational support for organisations and their leaders.
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