Work conflict. Relationship conflict. Family conflict. Conflict is everywhere and I’ll be honest with you: I’m kinda tired of it. So what are we gonna do?
Well, today we’re gonna get some help from what may seem like an unlikely source: Carl von Clausewitz.
Yeah, the dead war guy. The 19th-century Prussian strategist who spent his time thinking about armies and violence, which sounds like it has nothing to do with you, a person whose most frequent combat scenarios involve passive-aggressive emails.
But the dead war guy is useful. Not because your marriage is Stalingrad. But because everyday human conflict has a heckuva lot more in common with war than you think.
Clausewitz said conflict is messy. It’s shaped by confusion, pressure, fear, ego, and the reliable unreliability of human beings. In other words, he looked at war and saw the same stuff we deal with in every office meeting and family vacation.
His central warning applies way beyond battlefields: conflict has a way of taking command. You start out using it to get something you want. Then, somewhere along the way, it starts deciding what you want.
So this time we’ll be drawing from Clausewitz’s classic, “On War.”
Let’s get to it…
Clausewitz’s most famous idea is that “war is a continuation of policy by other means.” It’s usually interpreted as “war is just another tool.” Close, but no cigar.
His real point is: judge success only by whether it serves your end goal. You can kill more of the enemy, you can take more land, but in the end the only metric that matters is whether any of it gets you closer to the thing you actually want.
When conflict arises, ask yourself: What is my objective?
“For her to understand how she hurt me.”
That’s not an objective. That’s a fantasy involving telepathy. Be concrete. Do you want an apology? A solution? A change in behavior?
And you can’t have multiple equal primary objectives. I’ve tried. Turns out “I’d like to preserve this relationship, unload four years of resentment, deliver a snarky closing line, and also seem chill” is not a good plan.
And since not all purposes are the same, not all conflict should be fought the same way. So ask: what kind of conflict is this? Most of us don’t actually choose strategies; we just have temperaments. We bring our preferred mode of conflict into every situation and call the outcome fate.
Determine the nature of the problem before selecting the method. If the main thing is preserving a marriage, “humiliate them into agreeing with me” is probably not strategic genius.
“I just need to get this off my chest. Why is an ‘objective’ so important?”
Clausewitz said that once war begins, it develops a life of its own. You begin a disagreement with a vague goal and suddenly you’re in the eighth round of a text exchange about “tone,” which is the final form of all modern suffering.
Nobody even remembers the original issue anymore. You begin with “I want us to be closer” and end with “I want to win this exchange.” The goal might have been repair but you get so fixated on scoring points you start behaving like you’re auditioning to be the meanest person at the deposition.
Keep the main thing the main thing. Before you fight, ask what you want. While you fight, ask whether the fight still serves it.
(To learn the 3 core pillars of strategy, click here.)
You know your objective. Good. Now what’s the key decision-making tip Clausewitz has for us?
Clausewitz says lack of information is a permanent condition to be managed. Wait for certainty and you’ll be paralyzed.
Everybody likes to say that the crucial thing is getting more info.
Is it? Sometimes, yeah. But often what we need is a spine.
Clausewitz says complete information isn’t coming. The true problem is being able to decide despite incomplete data.
This isn’t a license to be reckless. It’s a warning: stop worshipping certainty. Don’t act like enough data will save you from having to make a decision. It won’t.
Identify the essential pattern, act decisively despite iffy knowledge, and stay flexible enough to pivot when new information finally shows up.
(To learn 4 more secrets to better decision-making, click here.)
Where should you concentrate your energy during conflict?
The amateur attacks everywhere. The strategist looks for the hinge. Every system has a source of power. Hit that, and the whole thing starts to crumble. Miss it, and you’re gonna spend a lot to achieve very little.
We like sexy answers but the center of gravity is often very not-glamorous. Usually, it’s something simple.
In a difficult conversation, ask yourself: what does this person actually care about underneath the drama? Respect? Control? Feeling appreciated? Focus on that and you can make progress. Nitpick over words and the fight just spirals.
Accurate force beats maximal force.
(To learn the 4 secrets to resilience when life gets hard, click here.)
So what was Clausewitz’s most counterintuitive idea?
Defense is (usually) stronger than offense.
Offense is definitely more impressive. “Offense” sounds like a cavalry charge. “Defense” sounds like hiding behind the sofa.
But the defender typically has the more strategic position. Holding ground is easier than taking it. You can afford to wait. You know the terrain, have local support, and fight with shorter supply lines.
Meanwhile, the attacker has to move first, take more risks, expend a lot more effort, and hope they can sustain the pressure long enough to make it all worthwhile. That’s a lot of work.
That said, good defense isn’t passivity. It’s waiting, conserving strength, and counterpunching when the moment’s right. You should only attack when you have decisive superiority. Enough leverage that the math works in your favor.
Ever keep pestering someone to do something and they just “yes” you to death and never follow through? That’s the defender advantage.
We assume attackers have the edge because they’re moving first. Sometimes they’re moving first because they’re desperate. And desperate people picking fights they can’t win are everywhere. They’re in your office, in your family, and very possibly in your bathroom mirror.
(To learn the 4 strategy insights from Sun Tzu’s “Art of War,” click here.)
Curious what Clausewitz thought about plans? He felt most of them are awful for one simple reason…
Most of our “battle plans” are crap. Planning itself is essential but most plans are monologues, a list of comforting lies arranged in chronological order with no serious consideration of the other side.
The script goes something like this:
First, I do my sensible Thing A. Then, because the universe loves me, the other side responds with my preferred Reaction B. Then we advance to Outcome C, which is suspiciously identical to the fantasy I had in the shower of me looking cool and the other side admitting I am right about everything.
The problem here? Your plan is not the only plan in the room. The other side isn’t a passive obstacle. They have plans of their own, which is inconsiderate, but here we are.
The other side is a co-author of events, like it or not. You’re not writing a solo memoir of triumph. You’re in a collaborative Google Doc with somebody who keeps typing over your sentences.
Real strategy assumes there will be resistance. After you ask yourself, “What should I do?” ask “And what will they do because I did that?” And then, because one level of recursion is never enough, “What will I do because they did that?”
(To learn the 9 secrets that will make you an expert negotiator, click here.)
Did Clausewitz have anything to say about our emotions? Our inner life? How our psychology affects conflict? Absolutely…
Troops, weapons, terrain, logistics… obviously, they all count. Clausewitz wasn’t a lunatic. He wasn’t saying a regiment armed with hope and a bugle could charge Gatling guns.
But give enough demoralized, leaderless people all the resources in the world and they can still turn opportunity into loss. Give a determined person purpose, discipline, and a few allies, and they can do an astonishing amount with very little.
Often what really defeats us is that we get tired and just don’t wanna struggle anymore. Even when the battle is worth the cost. And often what saves us is the little things: a friend who believes in you. The jokes you tell when things go sideways. The silly stuff that holds despair at bay.
Now there absolutely are material advantages that no amount of spirit is gonna overcome. But Clausewitz’s point is that the opposite error is just as common: thinking that visible power is everything, and that inner strength is just hooey.
The best tools are useless if you don’t have the will to use them.
(To learn the 8 secrets to grit and resilience from a Navy SEAL, click here.)
So what if you’re doing great? You’re winning. Clausewitz felt this was potentially one of the most dangerous moments in any conflict…
“Push harder.”
“Go all in.”
“Never stop.”
Great advice if you’re trying to win a football game. Less great if you’re trying to close a deal, win an argument, or avoid being the person everybody discusses in the parking lot after you leave.
Persistence is a virtue, but persistence has a first cousin named pigheadedness, and, man, is the family resemblance strong. There comes a point when every additional shove starts costing more than it gains. Simply put: know when enough is enough.
You’re winning the argument. They’re looking for a way out. You could just stop. Nah. Now you don’t want them to just concede the point; you want them to feel the point. To understand, down in the marrow, that they were wrong and you were not merely right but superior.
And that creates resistance instantly. Then you’re baffled that the conversation “went sideways.” No, it didn’t go sideways. It went exactly where you steered it.
What was nearly settled now turns into a fight about who-started-it, what-you-always-do, and whether my mother was right about you. An argument won cleanly is good. An argument won with a parting shot becomes a brand-new argument.
“But I need to make sure they understand.”
No. They understand. The question is whether you do. The last word is the most expensive word.
Overreach has screwed more people than direct defeat because direct defeat at least has the decency to look like defeat. Overreach shows up disguised as justice. And that’s the trap.
If you’ve made your point in an argument, stop. If you’ve reached a strong position in a negotiation, stop. Protect the relationship. Whenever you’re repeatedly pressing an advantage, ask: am I advancing or merely continuing?
I, too, have been the idiot who thought, “This email is already snide and cutting, so what it really needs is a sixth paragraph and another sarcastic one-liner.”
So don’t just be aware of restraint; practice it. Because self-awareness alone, unfortunately, is not a vaccine. It’s just a front-row seat.
(To learn how to have emotionally intelligent arguments, click here.)
Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Let’s round it all up and learn the 4 vital questions to keep asking yourself during any conflict…
Here’s how to be strategic…
Before and during any conflict, keep asking four questions:
1-What are you trying to achieve here?
The dirty secret is many people don’t want an outcome. They want the emotional payoff of finally saying the thing. “Saying what needed to be said” is one of those phrases that sounds noble right up until you see the crater it leaves behind.
2-What’s this worth?
There’s a price to being right, and it’s usually higher than you think. Ask: what’s this worth? If the answer is, “I don’t care what it costs!” then you’re not strategizing. You’re self-medicating with conflict.
3-What’s the other side’s real source of strength and cohesion?
The toxic coworker’s strength may not be competence. It may be that nobody above them wants a messy HR process. If you misidentify the source of the other side’s power, you attack the wrong thing.
4-What’s likely to happen once we both adapt under friction and uncertainty?
Once conflict begins, both sides adapt. That means the thing you’re arguing about will not remain the thing you’re arguing about. If your plan depends on them behaving like cardboard cutouts in your morality play, then your plan is garbage.
Clausewitz doesn’t tell us how to win every conflict. He tells us how not to become the conflict. Keep your objective in view. Stop swinging at shadows. Pause before escalating. And keep enough will in reserve that the fight does not get to choose your personality. (I’ve had arguments where afterward I needed a nap, electrolytes, and the kind of shower usually reserved for chemical exposure.)
He knew that when fights start, they take on a life of their own. And that can infect us. Some challenges can only be won by refusing to become the person they invite you to become.
If the fight starts dictating what you want instead of the other way around, you’re no longer using conflict.
Conflict is using you.