Cutting Edge Training

America’s Combatives and Liability Trainer Training With Real-World Impact

OFFICER SAFETY: The "Prison Couch"

by George on January 11, 2010 06:08

The situation is familiar to patrol officers:  a parolee “hanging” on the street, sitting on one heel, leaning back against a wall, forearms resting on his knees, talking to his associates.  Every officer has seen this.  Is this simply a “comfy” way to relax while talking to friends rather than standing or sitting on the concrete?  Or could there be something more.

While there are individuals in whose cultures this is a common way to relax, the possibility that this is a parolee or gangster requires officers to be cautious and appreciate the threat this position can pose to safety.  Officers must take precautions during any subject contact with an individual who is in or assumes this position.  Even though “it feels” like the officer standing has the advantage, the person in the “prison crouch” or squat (the term, “prison squat” seems to be perceived by jurors as more vulgar in court, although that is more accurate) has many tactical advantages.

All State Corrections Officers can tell you that parolees assume this position for two reasons:

  1. Prisons are made of concrete.  Concrete is cold.  Sitting on cold concrete for years, according to convicts, will give the person hemorrhoids. 
  2. Sitting flat on your butt in prison prevents effective response to sudden attack.  Sitting on your butt on the floor or ground is an invitation to attack.

This “prison crouch”—sitting on one heel with the other foot flat and forward—is an indicator of a subject who may be a threat to an officer.  Even when the individual has not been to prison, this behavior is often seen in youngsters emulating the “OGs” who have. 

Sitting or squatting in this position is not the sole indicator of any individual having spent time in prison.  This position is seen, too, in Latin American immigrants, especially farm workers or those of the peasant class in their home countries.  These cultures continue to work the fields as they have for centuries.  When in the fields, there is no place to sit but on the dirt.  Instead, these immigrants (legal and illegal) will squat or crouch down like this as an alternative to standing.  However, when combined with other threat-cues, the prison crouch is a position an officer should approach with caution, being aware of the position’s capabilities.

 APPEARANCES AND CAPABILITIES

While to the lay-person the Prison Crouch seems to be a “submissive” position, it actually has inherent offensive and defensive capabilities that must be addressed in the field if an officer is to safely handle the situation.  The lay person often believes that since the individual is lower than the officer and sitting back, that the subject is therefore at a disadvantage. 

Not true: 

Lower than the officer.  With the officer standing over him while the subject is sitting on his heel, it appears the officer has an advantage of being “bigger” and “higher.”  However, the closer the officer gets to the subject, the more vulnerable his legs are to the suspect suddenly springing at the officer for a leg takedown.  Any wrestler or jujitsu-player will see this relative positioning as an opportunity to “shoot” for the leg(s) and take the officer down.  Even with extensive wrestling/jujitsu training, once someone is in the officer’s legs, it is very difficult to prevent that party from taking the officer down.  The subject’s being lower does not prevent his springing at the officer, and is therefore a danger signal that may result in serious assault.

Sitting back.  The lay person sees an individual “sitting” with his back against a wall.  This, they wrongly reason, will make it more difficult to move suddenly and attack anyone by surprise—especially an officer who is paying attention.  While opposing attorney’s may characterize the standard Prison Crouch as “a guy sitting ‘back’ on his heels,” the reality is that this position is defensive as well as offensive, and used by individuals in a predatory environment (prison) to prevent their being attacked without defense by other predators (fellow prisoners).  Kicks are easily deflected, punches to the head are extremely difficult, and tackling the individual results in an opponent who has all of his physical weapons (hands, feet, and head) available for groundfighting.  He’s low to the ground, and less likely to be injured when tackled, negating much of the value the tackle provides against a standing opponent.  And as officers who have experienced combative or resistive suspects in position know, individuals can stand up surprisingly fast when they want to. 

Submissive.  The lay person will see this prison crouch as a submissive position, and will often judge the situation to be one of dominance by the officer who is standing over the subject.  Actually, this is a position where one can lure the unwary individual easily into range for an almost indefensible takedown (without extensive and current training) on to a hard surface (concrete or asphalt) where elbows, wrists, and heads are vulnerable to possibly severe injury from striking the ground. 

There is a temptation to use the standing position and a louder, harsher voice from a closer position to attempt to convince the subject to comply.  Remember:  this position is designed as a defensive position.  An officer wandering into the subject’s range because of a natural perception that standing is advantageous and dominant can be a mistake that can cost an officer his health and possibly his life.

THREAT VERSUS CULTURE?

Is there a foolproof way to predict whether any individual is simply sitting versus a threat from a “prison crouch?”  No.  Are there indicators that should alert the officer to the threat of an individual who takes this position either as a defensive posture or as an attempt to lure the officer into range?  Of course. 

Failure to comply with orders to get on the ground or on his knees.  All non-compliance is, of course, a key threat indicator.  Taking a position contrary to that ordered, or remaining in a position after being told to move calls for caution and distance solutions (Taser or OC spray) rather than hands-on efforts or getting closer to exert one’s will.  By giving orders in Spanish (“Boca abajo,” literally, “mouth down,” but translated as “Get face down,” or “A tierra se,” or “Get on the ground”), future Defense and Plaintiffs attempts to portray the subject as unable to understand the officer’s intentions will be short circuited.

Changing orientation.  An individual who changes his orientation to the officer’s latest position is clearly maneuvering to engage the officer.  As the officer moves laterally, he rotates to remain oriented to the officer’s position, thereby protecting his flank.

Eyes remain on the officer.  The subject maintains eye-contact with the officer, tracking his or her movement.  Cultural indicators are submissive, and not looking authorities in the eye.  In their country of origin, the police are not someone whom a citizen safely confronts—even with sustained direct eye contact.  Anyone visually tracking the officer from the crouch or squat position and remaining alert to the officer’s position or actions should be treated as a threat to officer safety. 

Indicia of gang association.   Knowledge of gang involvement, gang-style clothing, and identifying tattoos transform this seated position into a “prison-crouch,” with all of the safety ramifications that entails.

Identifying and remaining aware of the threat-cues that a “prison crouch” or squat signifies will permit a safer contact.  This position alone may not justify a higher profile response.  However, its inherent strengths combined with one or more threat indicators call for a moderate distance response.  The first non-compliance indicator, failure to respond to legal commands, routinely justifies a distance response (the threat or use, as justified, of OC spray or Taser).  As the threat-cues compound and multiply, a higher profile response to someone in the prison crouch is needed. 

 

Be safe.  Wear your vest.  Know your policies, especially your force response, deadly force response, and pursuit policies by heart.  And thank you for taking care of me and mine, and us all.

A Police Funeral and Reflections About Training

by George on November 7, 2009 12:15

 

There are three rules of police work:

1.  Officers are shot at, beaten, stabbed, and sometimes killed while doing their duty.
2.  Officers respond to a call for service when dispatched, having little idea of who or what is involved.
3.  Nobody can change Rule Number One.

Another hero was shot down on Halloween, 2009.  This time a complete ambush.  Timothy Brenton, Seattle PD Officer, husband, father of two youngsters, son, and friend.  Field Training Officer.  Great cop.  I never met him, but I’ve met thousands like him.  Honest, hard-working, courageous, concerned, and funny, of course.  Three dimensional living, breathing people who put on the uniform and walk into the unknown every shift, risking their lives to protect people they don’t know.  I was at his memorial yesterday, among several thousand cops from all over the country, including a large contingent of red-coated Mounties, and another thousand concerned citizens who wanted to share their outrage and grief with the family and to share their support of law enforcement.

This, I believe, is my 38th police funeral.  Sitting there, we all were waiting for the service to begin, waiting for the family that was in so much pain and shock, waiting for the ancient ceremonies and rituals for this last farewell to a fallen warrior, the forced stoicism, and the inevitable choking back of tears.  I reflected back to the five officers who I know attended my classes and who have been murdered in the line of duty. 

As a trainer of police for the last 28 years, I have been honored to have trained over 24,000 officers from all 50 states, several US territories, and 14 foreign countries.  Like most trainers who have done this job for any period of time, more officers than I can remember have called to thank me for the training I shared with them, saying that I “saved” their life.  These calls are always humbling, but the reality is that these officers saved their own lives by making good decisions early enough to make a difference.  The other side of that is the quality of the training each officer receives is a real factor in their survival. 

Being a police and military trainer has always been a sacred responsibility.  Even before my first police funeral, I knew that being a Trainer of warriors carried with it the weight of each student’s life.  Teaching officers defensive tactics, firearms, building entry and search, officer safety tactics and field response, any of the myriad courses I’ve taught carried with it the realization that what I taught matters to people’s lives.  I believe that, as a trainer, I am called upon to provide the best training that I can devise, find, or borrow in pursuit of keeping these men and women, heroes all, alive on the street.

Hero.  That word was used a lot yesterday.  Rightly so.  “A person who exhibits extraordinary bravery, firmness, fortitude, or greatness of soul, in any course of action;  a person admired and venerated for his or her achievements and noble qualities.”  While uncomfortable with being described so, officers who act with integrity, with honor, and understand their role as warriors and servants are heroes.  How can I, or any of us who are the trainers of warrior-servants, give anything less than these heroes are called to do?  

The first time an officer I had taught was murdered, I almost quit the profession of training.  I foolishly believed that training could solve every problem, and if the training I presented was of high enough quality, then no one would ever be hurt.  Officer James O’Brien.  He was pursuing an active shooter (well before Sgt. Jeff Martin, San Jose, CA, PD, and I coined that phrase over a decade ago) who had just murdered several people in a government office.  Jim parked his police car a couple of blocks away from the suspect’s location, got low, and peeked between the driver’s A-post and side spotlight.  He took a .300 Winchester Magnum round in the face, having penetrated the spotlight, killing him instantly.  He did everything right:  given the suspect’s known weaponry, he maintained extreme distance, he got small, used his vehicle properly as cover, and attempted to maintain observation of the suspect while directing backup officers to a safe approach.

When I heard that he had been murdered, I remembered Jim—out of the officers in a class long before, I remembered his face,  I had had lunch with him during the week of training.  For the two years following his murder, I searched my soul for something I had missed, feeling I had somehow let him down in the training.  Even though I only trained those methods and concepts that I believed in, I scoured my training doctrines and lesson plans for any garbage that wasn’t practical or effective.  I examined everything for anything that was based on my “being special” as an instructor and didn't serve the officers I was training.  I laid awake at night, going over and over what I taught compared to Jim’s response in this call.  A close friend of mine, a retired sergeant from Los Angeles County SO, Randy Johnson, said something that should have been obvious, but evidently wasn't to me for so long.  “Sometimes we do everything right and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.  Sometimes it’s just up to God.”  It was then that I realized that training couldn’t solve every problem, and that if I did my job perfectly, cops are still going to die.  That’s the nature of the job.  All that I can do is provide the best training I know how to help them minimize the chance of that happening.

Let no officer's ghost ever say my training failed him or her.

So I continue to scour the classes we teach, revising every class each time we teach it as we learn more, discover different ways to problem-solve, and figure out how to better present it so that it is easier for them to learn and, most importantly, remember when our cops are hurt, tired, and scared.  We teach them to be warrior-servants:  uphold the Constitution, follow the laws and their policies, and to help those who need them.  And we teach them to be warriors within the law:  fierce, dominating, and ultimately effective.  If we teach them to do the best job possible, then it is up to that officer and his or her decisions in the field to stay safe.  And sometimes no matter what they do or don't do, it is up to God.

I have known several officers personally who have been murdered.  I've trained five.  Of the five officers I have taught who have been murdered, only one of them made a series of terrible mistakes and seemed to be unaware of the dangers he might have been able to see.  Sadly, he and his family paid a terrible price.  Another murdered officer was intentionally T-boned by a fleeing suspect, having no chance to change an unforeseeable outcome—I remember him like it was yesterday.  The two remaining officers fought like lions after being wounded, but succumbed to their wounds.  Anne Jackson was one of these two officers--she was constantly smiling and laughed a lot--a nice woman who worked hard during training.  She was the last one of the officers attending my classes murdered…so far.

So far.  There is nothing I can do in training that will change Rule Number One.  But I will continue to provide the best training I know how, searching and revising and changing the curriculum so that it gives the officers I serve, we serve, the best information possible to do this job safely and to increase their chances of coming home.

The very first funeral I attended for a fallen warrior had the following poem read aloud in his honor.  It was written by George Hahn, a retired LAPD Officer.  It is entitled, “The Monument.”

I never dreamed it would be me,
My name for all eternity,
Recorded here at this hallowed place,
Alas, my name, no more my face.

“In the line of duty,” I hear them say;
My family now the price will pay;
My folded flag stained with their tears;
We only had those few short years. 

The badge no longer on my chest, 
I sleep now in eternal rest. 
My sword I pass to those behind, 
And pray they keep this thought in mind. 

I never dreamed it would be me,
And with heavy heart and bended knee; 
I ask for all here from the past, 
Dear God, let my name be last.
  

So at Officer Brenton’s memorial, the Ceremonial Commander, the honor guard, the color guard, and the flag-bearers all did their job with scrupulous dignity and attention to detail befitting the honor this hero and his family deserved.  The politicians gave their self-serving speeches.  The eulogies were given by his friends and family, their pain apparent to all.  Two buglers played "Taps," the mournful notes lingering in the echoes.  The pipers played “Amazing Grace,” forcing us all to catch our breath against the sobs, with the last piper walking off into the distance, and breaking all of our hearts all over again.  The last radio call was played, and Officer Brenton’s call sign and badge was retired, the silence between the dispatcher’s calling him over and over ripping through us all.  Tough men and women failed to hold back their tears.

Rest in peace, Officer Tim Brenton.  God bless your family.  I promise you, sir, that we will not bury a cop attending our training because the training is substandard or presented for anyone’s benefit other than our students.  We will continue to ruthlessly critique our training material to ensure that we give the best chance to every officer who honors us by permitting us to share our knowledge and skills.

And we know that you will not be the last hero we bury, because we know nobody can change Rule Number One. 

 

Tactics Usefully Defined: the Foundation

by George on October 23, 2009 04:59

Coming of age in the world of men of action, guns, and danger, one is taught that the subject of “Tactics” (capital “T”) is something you should know and be good at applying in order to stay “safe” and be effective.  To learn to be “tactical,” you’re generally given a list of actions to take given a specific incident or event—and there are a lot of events where tactics are necessarily employed.  Those who are good at memorizing and then recalling under the pressure of the real world tend to excel at tactics.  But what about the others in the profession at arms who do not?

But there are many who “don’t get it.”  They got the same lists of do’s and don’t’s that everyone else did.  Like everybody else, they were forced to memorize them.  And yet, the ability to apply these lists and act tactically didn’t take.  Everyone has these folks in their agency, team, or unit.  And for some reason, they often don’t get hurt when they probably should have—until they do, or they get someone else hurt or killed.  

What is it about “tactics,” that some get it and others do not? 

Many of those who “get it” actually tend to grasp what is behind the laundry list of tactics, seeing the principles that are the basis of the tactical laundry list.  However, tactics are not about a laundry list of do’s and don’ts.  Tactics are fundamentally a way of conducting business that puts your opponent into a recognizable disadvantage from which he is unable to survive (whether that means he is defeated/killed/injured/taken into custody, etc., he is unable to continue his present course of action against you).   

Tactics are essentially an application of the three foundational components of tactics: 

  • Angles and proxemics.     
  • Applied OODA Theory.  
  • Relative capabilities of the combatants, equipment, and their weapons.  

ANGLES AND PROXEMICS      

Angles are primarily “angles of attack.”  It is the direction and angle by which one is attacked.  Whether that is through trajectory (the parabolic flight of a missile—bullet or otherwise—through the air) or a fist, vehicle, sword, stick, explosive, air delivered munitions—whatever the mechanism to injure employed—there is an angle of attack that must be identified and protected against to increase your safety.       

All angles of threat have a direction.  It may be from the gunman five feet away, a man with a shotgun 20 yards away, that sniper 800 meters away in an elevated position, or mortar fire.  Traditionally it has been called a kill-zone.  A kill-zone can be defined as any area permitting the intersection of a weapon or missile (and its effects) with its target.  If you get shot, you were in a kill-zone.  If you suffer the effects of an explosion, you were in a kill-zone.  The same if you are kicked in the shins or knifed through the ribs.  All result from a directional component, or angle of attack.  Identifying and avoiding the kill-zone created by the angle as determined by the proxemics is key to preventing injury while creating injury (or threat of injury) to the opponent.                

Proxemics is the relationship of bodies in space and geography.  The combatants’ position relative to the other becomes a threat or not based on their weapon’s capabilities, e.g., a man armed with a knife at 50 yards is not a serious immediate threat, whereas a man with a shotgun or rifle likely is.  A man with a scoped rifle who is 40 feet higher than his target is important information in determining either how to shoot the target or in not getting shot, depending on which side of the muzzle one finds himself.  Determining the position of an opponent prior to a shot being fired, explosive being detonated, or a kick beginning or the knife striking provides valuable intelligence that permits you to avoid the kill zone, negating—or, at least, mitigating—the weapons’ capability to harm you.The same goes when selecting an area or place in which to confront an opponent.  Your position can give you an advantage over your opponent. Selecting a favorable site or creating a circumstance for the confrontation greatly influences the outcome.  Understanding the advantages and disadvantages inherent in proxemics provides a foundational opportunity to create or eliminate angles of attack based on your present needs.

APPLIED OODA THEORY  

Within tactics, the concept of time and your understanding of how to use it to your advantage greatly impacts the outcome of the conflict.  Making it a conscious part of the tactical response is the second foundational component. 

All physical conflict is about time.  Decisively putting enough force “on-target, on-time” is how a conflict is won.  Fighting, whether with empty hands, handheld weapons (including firearms), individually, and in groups—or even in armies—is really nothing more than a desperate battle for time.  Whoever bests manages and ultimately controls the time—and therefore the timing—of the conflict, generally wins.   

Once he is beaten mentally, physically overwhelming him will not be a problem.  He gets behind the curve and is finally buried (either figuratively or literally) by the unrelenting pressure because he cannot catch up to the rapidly changing events dictated by the victor.  His every decision becomes increasingly late relative to the tempo of the fight, until his decisions—and therefore his actions, defenses, and ability to create harm—are completely irrelevant to the current situation.  At this point, the outcome is certain—he will lose.  The concept of getting inside the opponent’s ability to react (mentally and physically) and make decisions, and staying there until resistance is overcome is best described through the doctrine of “Boyd’s Cycle,” or “getting inside his OODA Loop.”  

Controlling the time is not necessarily about who moves faster (although it can be).  It is, instead, about overwhelming the opponent’s ability to understand the context of one’s moves and actions, affecting his ability to react effectively to the changing circumstances.  It is positively directing the relevance of his decision-making under threat.  While most people think about shooting technique when the subject of a gunfight comes up, warriors think about “time management” in order to hit the suspect and avoid being hit. 

Physical conflict is more a battle for the internal time structure of one’s opponent than it is a physical contest of strength or accuracy.  Getting into his head and disrupting his ability to decisionize and react in time is most often the key to physically winning and overwhelming his defenses.  It is about controlling his ability to recognize and change the direction and tempo of the conflict, confusing and/or injuring him sufficiently to prevent his ability to recover.     

OODA is a concept of describing the decision-making process a human being undergoes under threat.  Developed through extensive conflict research and synthesis by Col. John Boyd (USAF, deceased), it properly—and very clearly—explains how we operate in a threat environment under time constraints where personal safety is involved.  It is vital, as a police and military trainer of combatives problem-solving, to understand how we mentally operate and react to a perceived threat.  This influences how and what we teach. 

While linear time (microseconds, tenths of seconds, seconds, minutes, hours, etc.) is constant, perceptual time is subjective.  In every conflict, there is a perception of time by everyone involved.  Winners often experience others moving as if in slow motion, easily anticipating the opponent’s next move and beating him there effortlessly.  However, losers, if they survive, often feel as if they “didn’t have enough time” to make decisions, that the attacks came too quickly and from unexpected directions and sources that refused to let them understand what was happening until it was too late.  Realizing that an attack has been initiated and knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it results in you losing, with all the consequences that entails. 

  • The Threat(s) makes a decision to attempt to injure or kill you—he or she decides to shoot you. 
  • You make a decision based on what you understand the situation to be to respond with force. 
  • Both the Threat and you continuously decide whether to fire, continue firing, to stop firing, to flee, aggress, move, dodge, grab, strike, etc.
Rapidly pressing the trigger or throwing multiple punches for the sake of speed is not the determinant factor of success/survival.  The decision to press the trigger of an in-battery weapon when the bore axis is aligned on the Threat’s vulnerable body structure is.  The decision to strike a target on-time, in-time is the critical factor.    Each shot requires a decision.  To continue firing, or to stop shooting again requires a decision.  The same with throwing a punch or blocking a punch.  This decision-making under threat is a function of a continuous series of decision “loops” that depend on constant feedback.  Each of these loops contains at least four distinct components, and is described by the acronym, “OODA:”     

Observe.  In an individual fight, this is information gathered by the senses.  Information gathering comes from the eyes, sound, and touch.  This is raw data (primarily eyesight in a gunfight) transmitted to the brain for processing. 

  • One cannot purposely defend against something that is not first perceived.
  • Observing and seeing are, however, often two very different things. 
What does the observed information actually mean?  Orientation concerns recognizing the “essential elements of threat” of the situation—the fact that the Threat has blue eyes is unimportant if you miss the essential elements of threat immediately facing you:  his quartering his body to you, his far elbow poking out from behind him as the same shoulder rises slightly, the subtle shift of body weight first to the rear, the apparently intentional lack of emotion being shown.  Noticing the color of the Threat’s eyes may be useful later in offering a description, but failing to notice the other essential elements of threat might mean you won’t be alive to give that description. 

Making the leap between any change in the status quo represented by this new information and the ability to appreciate or discern its relevance is key to success in the OODA concept: orienting to the new information quickly enough to make a difference in the outcome.  The more rapidly you orient to the actual events as or just before they occur, the more likely you will be able to make decisions that will benefit the outcome you want. 

Orientation is a dynamic pattern-matching of past experiences (including those events actually lived through as well as other warriors’ experiences as relayed by word, video, or in print—including meaningful training), intelligence or information received prior to the event, and other sources that all combine into the orientation process. 

Successful “orientation” is delayed when the Threat’s actions are not recognized, either through a lack of familiarity or by intentional deceit.  Orientation is prevented as well by injury or fatigue. 

OODA Ums.  The “OODA Ums” are commonly experienced when orientation stalls.  When a situation begins to change, and the warrior doesn’t quite yet understand that he or she’s in combat, there is a tendency to experience a series of pauses before sufficient orientation takes place.  It can sound like this:

  • "What’s that?...um…Oh, it’s a guy…um…why’s he moving like that?...um…He’s moving kind of funny…um…The look on his face just changed…um…What’re his hands doing?...um…OH!  Knife!”

Anyone who’s been in combat, especially the first few times, knows the OODA Um’s can get you killed.  The earlier you orient to the threat, the more likely your decision-making will be rapid enough to make a difference in your prevailing. 

Decide.  Based upon the information received, a decision about a response, and how that response will take place is made.  Again, the more closely the pattern-matching matches the experience base (either through real-world experience or through relevant training), the quicker the decision-making capability, and the more likely it will affect the outcome of the conflict. 

The decision process is also where the Loop’s cycling can significantly bog down, and you can lose your advantage—many a battle has been thrown away by a hesitant commander—or fighter—who delays a decision because of a fear of incomplete information.  Remember: an adequate solution early is better than a perfect decision that is too late to favorably affect the outcome. 

Act.  The decision having been made, the action is committed to and efforted.  The level of commitment to that action is generally determined by the degree of surety one has about their orientation to the situation—if you are convinced you are right, your commitment will be complete.  If not, your actions will likely be tentative.  However, once a physical action (e.g., punch, trigger press, etc.) is committed to and acted upon, it is impossible to stop until the initiated action is completed.   

Feedback Loops Begin.  The moment any action is taken, feedback begins.  This feedback tells you about the action taken, whether it had no effect on the Threat, a partial effect, or was completely successful.  Feedback forces a continuous series of OODA Loops that cycle at inconsistent speeds depending upon your ability to orient to the changes in the fight relative to the Threat’s.   

If the fight is straightforward against an incompetent opponent, his threat patterns are easily recognized and something you are completely prepared for, your OODA Loops will cycle effortlessly.   

If, however, he is prepared and capable, and his attacks create confusion and frustration for you, your OODA cycling will slow.  As injuries and fatigue on both sides increase, orientation is adversely affected, and decision-making progresses or retards—and eventually stops completely. 

One combatant will suffer sufficient injuries or fatigue to the point where he becomes combat ineffective, unable to continue orienting and deciding upon an action, and the fight either stops, or the loser is killed. 

Prevailing in any type of combatives depends upon quick and accurate decision-making.  If there is a failure to observe a change in the status quo, or a threat pattern is not recognized for some reason, the lack of quickly orienting while under threat leads to debilitating confusion.  As confusion increases, decision-making stalls.  This, in turn, builds on itself to create more confusion.  At some point, the combatant becomes no longer able to function in any relevant manner.  The fight is all but over. 

Engineering the Conflict.  Your task is to create confusion in the mind of the Threat.  As you make decisions faster and combine them with actions that increasingly frustrate and confuse him, his ability to target and hit you decreases.  The moment confusion begins, OODA cycles for each combatant are distinctly different:   

  • Your OODA Loop cycles are normal or even faster than normal rates.  It may seem like the Threat moving in slow motion.  You are clear about what needs to be done, and your decisions result in actions that are on-time, in-time.
  • His OODA Loop cycles begin to stall.  He doesn’t understand what is going on.  He begins to get frantic and tries harder to understand what is happening now.  His decision-making, or OODA cycle, slows and stalls.  His actions falter and become impotent—he begins flailing wildly without focus, or simply presses the trigger faster because he can’t think of anything else to do--while his strikes or bullets might hit something, it is not through purposeful effort.  He just doesn’t have enough time.  The real threat he represents at this moment is seriously hampered and reduced, and the outcome will soon become inevitable. 

Understanding the Observe-Orient-Decide-Act cycle permits you to better engineer success in any situation.  Getting within and then remaining “inside his OODA Loop” is the freedom to direct the conflict by managing the Threat’s attention—the time it takes to make effective decisions and act upon them.  Your “time-management” of his OODA Loop creates confusion and frustration, further slowing his decision-making, and resulting in his making irrelevant combat choices.   

Put him into a “Goofy Loop.”  The “Goofy-Loop” is a condition of the mind where confusion reigns.  The Goofy-Loop describes the inability to make a decision under increasingly ominous and oppressive threat.  When orientation stalls and decision-making stops, the Goofy-Loop is impossible to escape from unless the opponent relents.  Examples of quickly putting a Threat into the “Goofy-Loop” might be:  

  • Moving quickly to an angle and drawing/engaging as the enemy begins to direct his weapon at you. 
  • An unexpected quick slap to the Threat’s ear, stunning him. 
  • Aggressing into and through the attack.  

Now keep him there!  An “increasingly oppressive threat” simply means to continue to injure or move against the Threat until he can no longer operate effectively.  BE UNRELENTING.  

By shrinking your Decision-Loop (and expanding his), he is making decisions to defend actions you initiated three or four iterations ago—far too late for him because he is now taking injuries that he will not be able to overcome.  

OODA is About Timeliness.  Col. Boyd taught that all conflict is “time-sensitive.”  The time between the observation and the action must be on-target, on-time, in-time.  That is, between observing, orienting, deciding, and acting upon that observation, the action must be on-target and on-time to make a positive difference, and in-time to favorably affect the conflict.  A late action will therefore have a negligible—or even a negative—effect on the outcome.  It is attempting to influence events that no longer exist because the situation has already significantly changed.  Make him fight in the past. 

Misunderstanding “timeliness.”  Many have misunderstood the “time competitiveness” of this model to be an admonition to constantly, almost frantically increase the speed of the conflict.  Pushing to be “faster” isn’t necessarily beneficial.  Again, it is being “on-time, in-time” relative to his actions that is key.  Shooting faster and putting more rounds downrange than a Threat may assist in your survival.  However, eight fast misses is not the answer to winning a gunfight.  Putting rounds on-target, in-time is a better predictor of safety and success.  Similarly, throwing more punches hoping to overwhelm him isn’t necessarily better than hitting him solidly with every punch you throw.  

Timeliness is about context.  Context is about “relative” speed.  It is your action relative to the Threat’s that wins or loses the fight.  Serious practitioners know that “fast is slow, and smooth is fast.”  E.g., being smooth will get a weapon on target faster than a fast, frantic draw that gets fouled. 

Tempo.  Within this concept of “on-target, on-time, in-time,” there can be no slowing of the tempo (“tempo” is the rapidity or rate of movement relative to another; the concept of gaining or losing time relative to one’s continued mobility or developing position).  Accelerating the tempo may be desirable as long as it results in meaningful gain.  Again, the whole concept depends upon making good decisions earlier and more quickly than the other guy.   

It is speed that is relevant to disrupting the Threat’s decision-making and effective action; that of getting ahead of his decision-making loops and staying there that is important.  It is almost like a man leading in ballroom dance.  As long as the male dancer takes charge and is aware of the female’s response, the dance is successful.  The failure of the male partner to remain ahead, or in the lead, relative to the female half of the dance team, destroys the effort.  The female is left on her own, now unaffected by the male's lead, and the dance is no longer graceful or even meaningful.