Tag: Adaptability

The Art of Cyberwar | Part VIII | Variation in Tactics

The principle: “There are not more than five musical notes, yet the combinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can ever be heard.” — Sun Tzu

Adaptation Over Assumption

In Maneuvering, we learned the art of movement and how to turn posture into progress. Now Sun Tzu takes the next step: variation.

Variation is the discipline of adaptation. Not improvisation for its own sake. It’s controlled flexibility and fluidity; the kind that keeps a force alive while in motion.

Sun Tzu’s warning is ruthless: Predictability is the slow death of strategy. Every organization that wins too long risks repeating itself.

Every CISO, every architect, every nation-state faces the same danger: When your patterns stabilize, your adversary’s job gets easier.

Attackers study rhythm.
They hunt repetition.
They exploit formula.

What you repeat becomes your weakness.

Static Defenses, Dynamic Threats

In cybersecurity, repetition feels like discipline:

  • the same checklists
  • the same daily, weekly or quarterly assessments
  • the same scanning cadence
  • the same unchanged playbooks

It feels stable but it’s stagnation dressed as process.

Meanwhile attackers evolve hourly.

Their payloads morph.
Their lures update.
Their timing adapts to human fatigue cycles.

They don’t overpower blue teamers; they systematically outlearn them.

Sun Tzu’s guidance, “alter your plans according to circumstances,” isn’t merely poetic.

It’s operational doctrine. Security isn’t a system. Security is a cycle.

  • Every breach teaches.
  • Every false alarm reveals.
  • Every routine day hides patterns waiting to be broken.

The teams that adapt fastest aren’t the biggest.

They’re the most fluid and adaptable.

Variation is awareness in motion.

Red Teams, Blue Teams, and the Dance of Adaptation

Variation is the heartbeat of adversarial testing. Red teams live in uncertainty: improvisation, deception, broken rhythm. Blue teams train in structure: detection, containment, resilience.

A mature organization doesn’t let them exist as siloed tribes. It merges them into purple teaming, where the creativity of offense and the rigor of defense evolve together.

  • Red exposes blind spots.
  • Blue turns discovery into discipline.
  • Together they adapt.

This is the martial logic of sparring:

  • Wing Chun’s angle changes, where the same attack comes from different entries vs simply straight lines.
  • Muay Thai’s broken rhythm, where timing destroys expectation.
  • BJJ’s transition → position → submission sequence, where variation becomes game, set, match.

Each engagement becomes rehearsal for reality. You’re not preparing for yesterday’s threat. You’re learning from tomorrow’s rehearsal. That’s Sun Tzu’s Variation: adaptation as preparation.

Cloud Security: Adaptation as Architecture

Cloud environments shift constantly:

  • APIs update
  • services deprecate
  • compliance rules revise
  • identity models evolve
  • integrations multiply

Static thinking is fatal in a fluid system. Cloud security is variation embodied.

Infrastructure-as-code lets architecture evolve at speed. Automation turns intent into consistent action, but without visibility, variation becomes drift.

Sun Tzu’s metaphor of water fits perfectly: Water adapts to its container yet always seeks its level.

Cloud engineers do the same:

  • change with the environment, without losing alignment
  • allow flexibility, without losing control
  • evolve configurations, without losing accountability

Adaptation is necessary. Principles are non-negotiable.

Foreign Policy and the Trap of Predictability

Nations decay when their doctrine ossifies.

The American foreign policy establishment has often fallen into this trap over and over again:

  • Cold War containment repeated even after the context changed.
  • counterinsurgency tactics applied to environments that defied them
  • interventions driven by reflex rather than awareness

Vietnam: A doctrine built for conventional warfare in Europe applied to guerrilla conflict in jungle terrain. The U.S. measured success through body counts and attrition, while the enemy measured it through will and time. Same playbook, wrong war. Predictable escalation met adaptive resistance.

Afghanistan: Twenty years of rotating commanders, each bringing their own tactical variation, but all operating under the same strategic assumption—that nation-building through military presence could succeed where it had failed for empires before. The tactics changed every 18 months with each new general. The doctrine never did. The enemy simply waited.

Iraq 2003: Intelligence assumptions treated as certainties. A swift conventional victory followed by the assumption that democratic institutions could be installed through force. When insurgency emerged, the U.S. applied a counterinsurgency doctrine designed for different conflicts. By the time adaptation occurred (the Surge), years of predictable responses had already created the conditions for ISIS.

But perhaps the most revealing pattern is the rhetorical one: every emerging threat becomes “the new Hitler,” every conflict the next World War II.

  • Saddam Hussein was Hitler.
  • Gaddafi was Hitler.
  • Milosevic was Hitler.
  • Assad was Hitler.

The framing never changes. The enemy is always being Chamberlain in 1939 and being “appeasers of Hitler.” The infantile argument is always to stave off the newest existential threat to humanity. This isn’t strategy, it’s intellectual predictability masquerading as moral rectitude and always sticking by the banal cliche “never again,” whether is really applies or not.

World War II was a unique conflict: a mechanized, industrial-scale war between nation-states with clear battle lines, total mobilization, and, foolishly, unconditional surrender as the objective. Applying that framework to insurgencies, civil wars, and regional conflicts doesn’t just fail tactically, it reveals a dangerous inability to see the situation as it actually is.

The Hitler analogy serves a purpose: it short-circuits debate, frames inaction as appeasement, and makes intervention seem inevitable. But it’s also the ultimate form of strategic predictability. When every threat is Hitler, every response becomes World War II, and variation dies.

Variation in statecraft means reading each situation fresh, not recycling last decade’s doctrine into a new century, and certainly not recycling a doctrine from 80 years ago. In each case, tactical adjustments happened but strategic doctrine remained rigid. That’s the opposite of Sun Tzu’s teaching: vary tactics, never principles. These conflicts varied neither.

The Global War on Terror: The Ultimate Failure of Variation

And then there’s the final, most damning example of strategic predictability: Ahmed al-Sharaa, originally known as Abu Mohammed al-Jolani, who once led al-Qaeda’s Al-Nusra Front or Jabhat al-Nusra in Syria and spent years detained by U.S. forces as a terrorist in Iraq, was welcomed to the White House in November 2025 by President Trump.

He once had a $10 million U.S. bounty on his head. He founded al-Nusra Front, al-Qaeda’s Syrian branch. Now he’s a partner in the Global War on Terror.

This isn’t adaptation. This is strategic incoherence dressed as pragmatism.

Twenty-four years after 9/11, after trillions spent, after Afghanistan and Iraq, after “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” became doctrine, the United States now supports the former head of the very organization we invaded multiple countries to destroy.

The justification? He helps combat ISIS. The same ISIS that emerged from the predictable chaos of the Iraq War. The same conflict where al-Sharaa himself fought as a leading al-Qaeda member against U.S. forces.

This is what happens when doctrine ossifies while reality shifts. When every threat is framed through the same lens (“the new Hitler”), when every intervention follows the same playbook, when strategic thinking atrophies into bureaucratic reflex you end up shaking hands with yesterday’s enemy because you can’t recognize that your framework has failed.

Sun Tzu’s warning rings clear: predictability invites exploitation. The GWOT’s predictable responses—invasion, occupation, counterinsurgency, withdrawal created a cycle that adversaries learned to exploit.

They adapted. We repeated.

And now, the former al-Qaeda commander who once fought U.S. forces receives a hero’s welcome at the seat of American power. Not because the threat changed. Because we ran out of variations on the same failed strategy.

Predictability in diplomacy invites miscalculation.
Predictability in force posture invites escalation.
Predictability in cyber deterrence invites probing.

Again, as an example, at the extreme end of predictability lies Pearl Harbor.

Japan didn’t strike out of pure ambition; it struck because the U.S. cut off:

  • 90% of its oil
  • vital steel
  • food
  • rubber
  • machinery
  • industrial materials

A nation deprived of resources enters what Sun Tzu called death ground, the place where maneuver becomes inevitable.

  • Predictable embargo.
  • Predictable deterioration.
  • Predictable desperation.
  • Predictable strike.

Sun Tzu understood the principle: the more rigid your doctrine, the more your opponent will shift. Nations, like networks, must evolve, or decay through repetition.

Variation Without Confusion

Adaptability is not inconsistent. Sun Tzu warned that blind variation, change for its own sake,
creates disorder.

The rule is simple: Vary your tactics. Never vary your principles.

In cybersecurity, the principles are visibility, trust, and accountability.
In cloud architecture, they are governance and clarity.
In foreign policy, they are restraint and realism.

Change how you respond.
Never change why you respond.

That’s how variation becomes strength rather than noise.

Modern Lessons in Motion

Across every domain, the real art lies in learning faster than you decay:

  • In cybersecurity, adapt playbooks to every alert, not just every quarter.
  • In cloud: treat configuration as a living organism, not a static diagram.
  • In diplomacy: update doctrine before circumstances force your hand.

Predictability invites attack.
Curiosity creates resilience.

Sun Tzu didn’t worship flexibility. He prized awareness in motion, responsiveness guided by principle.

That is how you survive modern complexity: move → learn → realign → repeat.

That’s variation.

From Variation to Awareness

Variation teaches movement. The next lesson teaches perception.

In Chapter IX, The Army on the March, Sun Tzu turns to the signals that guide a force in motion,  how to read the terrain, sense morale, detect fatigue, and recognize when momentum turns into danger.

If Variation in Tactics is about adapting to survive, The Army on the March is about understanding the signs that tell you whether your adaptation is working.

Bringing us full circle to our opening principle: “There are not more than five musical notes, yet the combinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can ever be heard.”

In our next installment, we’ll discuss perception and reality in networks, in nations, in martial skill, and most critically, in ourselves.

The Art of Cyberwar | Part VI | Weak Points and Strong

matt shannon art of cyberware chapter VI weak points an strong

The principle:
“So in war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak.”

Strength and Weakness Are Temporary

Sun Tzu emphasized that strength and weakness are dynamic rather than static. Although this principle may seem self-evident, it is often overlooked in practice. Many individuals disregard straightforward strategies, mistakenly believing that complexity is required. This oversight often leads to the violation of previous strategic principles or “lessons learned”, indicating a lack of genuine understanding.

It is essential to recognize that what appears robust today may become fragile in the future, while seemingly vulnerable elements can become decisive with time and increased awareness.

Power, whether military or digital, shifts with context.

The critical factor is not the quantity of resources, but the ability to perceive the entire operational landscape. Vulnerabilities arise not only from an adversary’s strengths, but also from areas where situational awareness is lacking and the speed at which adaptation occurs when new realities emerge.

In contemporary contexts, both nations and security architects often neglect this fundamental principle. There is a tendency to focus on constructing increasingly formidable defenses rather than developing adaptive strategies. Regardless of the scale of these defenses, adversaries require only minor vulnerabilities to compromise their effectiveness. Always remember, your adversaries only need to find a tiny leak in the walls to bring the entire system down.

Predictability: The Modern Weakness

Even the most secure fortresses eventually become familiar terrain for attackers. Cyber adversaries do not rely on brute force; instead, they employ strategic analysis. They examine organizational habits and exploit vulnerabilities such as unpatched servers, unmanaged privileged or service accounts, unchanged passwords, and the susceptibility of executives to social engineering.

Their success depends not on force, but on the predictability of organizational behaviors.

Nations exhibit similar vulnerabilities. Bureaucratic routines solidify into doctrine, which can devolve into dogma. Adversaries exploit these predictable patterns, waiting for repetition before executing successful attacks.

Historical events, such as the Pearl Harbor attack, the September 11 attacks, the Gulf of Tonkin incident, and numerous cyber intrusions, demonstrate that deficiencies in critical thinking, complacency, rigidity, and hubris significantly increase the likelihood of successful surprise attacks.

When Comfort Masquerades as Strength

Many organizations and governments allocate excessive resources to familiar areas, fostering a false sense of security. This environment allows risks to proliferate unnoticed, undermining overall resilience.

Cybersecurity teams often spend millions fortifying infrastructure while leaving users untrained.

Organizations frequently monitor technical metrics while neglecting human behavior. The most significant vulnerabilities often arise from areas presumed to be under adequate management.

System failures are typically attributable not to insufficient funding, but to misaligned priorities.

This pattern is evident at the national level as well. Large militaries and substantial budgets often obscure underlying fragilities, including slow adaptation, reliance on outdated assumptions, unstable alliances, and insufficient strategic foresight regarding emerging forms of conflict.

Historical Lessons of Misguided Strength

The First World War began with nations convinced that industrial might and rigid plans guaranteed victory. Those plans dissolved within months under the weight of modern weapons and static thinking.

During the Vietnam War, a major power misinterpreted its capacity for endurance as a guarantee of superiority. The Viet Cong’s guerrilla tactics transformed conventional advantages into significant liabilities.

Even the rapid success of Operation Desert Storm fostered complacency. Efficiency was mistaken for enduring security, and the perceived triumph was erroneously interpreted as evidence of invincibility.

Each era reaffirms the principle that the most conspicuous assets are not necessarily the most powerful.

Flexibility as True Power

Sun Tzu’s insight was to conceptualize power as dynamic movement. He advocated that a general should emulate water, seeking the path of least resistance and adapting to the terrain.

Within the cyber domain, the operational landscape evolves rapidly, with new threats, actors, and vulnerabilities emerging on a continual basis.

In this context, strength is defined by agility:

  • Rotate keys and credentials regularly.
  • Automate but verify.
  • Decentralize authority so teams can act without waiting for hierarchy.

The most effective defenders are those who demonstrate the greatest adaptability, learning and evolving more rapidly than adversaries can adjust their tactics.

Lao Tzu’s Echo

Lao Tzu put it simply:

“Water overcomes the stone not by strength, but by persistence.”

Endurance surpasses dominance. Properly understood, flexibility is not a sign of weakness but of resilience, characterized by the capacity to absorb disruption and recover to an original state.

In the digital context, resilience is reflected in recovery planning, redundancy, and organizational culture. The true measure of strength is not the infrequency of failure, but the speed of recovery following a compromise.

Turning Weakness Into Insight

All systems possess inherent flaws. Denial of these vulnerabilities allows them to remain concealed until a crisis occurs. Proactive defenders employ audits, red-team exercises, and transparent communication to identify weaknesses at an early stage.

Transparency transforms potential liabilities into opportunities for organizational learning.

Nations could use the same humility.

Public acknowledgment of mistakes enhances credibility, whereas concealment increases risk. The most resilient governments are not those without flaws, but those capable of adapting transparently before their constituents.

From Awareness to Action

Identifying vulnerabilities constitutes only part of the challenge; addressing them effectively demands both discipline and restraint.

In cybersecurity, this approach entails prioritizing remediation over self-congratulation, thorough preparation prior to disclosure, and critical evaluation before taking action.

In policy contexts, this requires deliberate prioritization, engaging only in actions where the anticipated outcomes justify the associated costs.
Misapplied strength can become a source of vulnerability, whereas a thorough understanding of weaknesses can provide strategic foresight.

The Next Step: The Flow of Force

Sun Tzu ends this chapter with motion: the strong shifting to the weak, the weak transforming to the strong.

He implies that awareness must evolve into timing. The wise general aligns his force with the moment, not against it. And that, “All men can see the tactics whereby I conquer, but what none can see is the strategy out of which victory is evolved.”

This concept serves as a transition to the subsequent lesson, which focuses on the dynamics of energy in motion and the strategic management of power with balance and rhythm.

We’ve learned where to stand. Next, we’ll learn how to move. As Master Tzu concludes Chapter VI:

Military tactics are like unto water; for water in its natural course runs away from high places and hastens downwards. Water shapes its course according to the nature of the ground over which it flows; the soldier works out his victory in relation to the foe whom he is facing. Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare there are no constant conditions.

Leading us directly back to this lesson’s seemingly simple principle: “So in war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak.”