Mar 15

On December 26th, 1776, General George Washington led 2,400 American Soldiers against 1,500 Hessian military contractors, I mean, mercenaries. In total, the Continental Army killed 98 Hessians and captured 500 more. The Battle of Trenton strengthened the position of the continental army and the influence of the continental congress, a key battle in winning the Revolutionary war.

It's a shame that no Army General would have guts or testicular fortitude to do the same today.

Last week, I described the trouble the Army has distinguishing between guidelines and rules. Take the most common guideline-turned-rule: the three-to-one advantage in the attack.

I have participated in countless training exercises, and every time the US plays the offense. And we always have three times as many troops as the enemy. Always. It's a guideline for high-intensity warfare, but now it is law. It doesn't make sense that we will always have three times as many Soldiers as our enemy, but somehow in training, we always do.

This “guideline” is so rigorously embedded in the Army's consciousness, we still use it when we plan counter-insurgency operations. Whenever my battalion conducted Company-sized operations, (or CONOPs, see the post here) during the brief our S2 always briefed the number of enemy he expected on an objective. I would listen in as the S2 briefed his portion, and as I calculated it, we had exactly three times as many troops. Either we could perfectly predict the enemy's size, or we jerryrigged our slides to meet an arbitrary guideline.

The guideline exists to create overwhelming force, and its a good organizing principle. Basically, in the attack you can have a third of your force supporting, a third as an intermediate base of fire, and the final third as an assault force. As a guideline, it works. If a unit can bring to bear the three to one advantage, they usually win.

Unfortunately, this is an example of the science of war trumping the art. The science is a chart of the relative combat power analysis of two forces. Charts with numbers are easy to understand.

What the science of numbers can’t describe, though, is enemy morale. The science has a tough time accounting for surprise. Numbers warfare doesn't do well calculating well-organized raids and ambushes. The science of relative combat power also excludes the factors of speed, mass, surprise, initiative, unity of effort, and countless other principles of warfare. I am convinced the Army would love to replace its company and field grade officers with computers; until then it will use arbitrary guidelines.

There are countless examples of Army officers surprising the enemy with fantastic results. Joshua Chamberlain's counterattack at the battle of Little Big Top is the greatest tactical decision of all time. He didn't have a three to one advantage. The Great Raid at Cabanatuan used speed, surprise and organization to overwhelm a Japanese garrison and rescue over 500 POWs. They didn't have a three to one advantage; in fact, they were at a 127-700 disadvantage (not to count the 8,000 Japanese soldiers patrolling the countryside).

And again, General Washington had more troops than his opponent, a 2,400 - 1,500 man advantage, but he attacked on a garrison in the defense. According to Army logic, he shouldn't have done so with less than 4,500 men. Surprise and audacity won the day. Current Generals should pay heed.

It is a good guideline: try to have three times as many guys as your enemy. Heck, we invaded Iraq without obeying this law, but not because the Army wanted to. Guidelines are good in their place; rules hamstring our Officers. If you are an active-duty officer, I know you have heard this rule. Please remember it isn't a law.

Mar 12

(To read the entire "War Memoirs" series, please click here.)

Are you thinking about writing a war memoir? Then read the following passage:

They call Colbert "The Iceman." Wiry and fair-haired, he makes sarcastic pronouncements in a nasal whine that sounds like comedian David Spade. Though he considers himself a "Marine Corps killer," he's also a nerd who listens to Barry Manilow, Air Supply and practically all the music of the 1980's except rap...He collects vintage video-game consoles and wears a massive wristwatch that can only properly be "configured by plugging it into his PC.

Can you write this? Can you write with this level of honesty, detail and talent?

This passage comes from Generation Kill, Rolling Stone reporter Evan Wright's superb account of the invasion of Iraq while he embedded with the 1st Marine Reconnaissance Battalion. That Generation Kill is excellent should come as no surprise; it won National Magazine awards, and HBO turned it into a mini-series. And it proves that the best memoirs come from the pros.

The Good


Wright's greatest skill is describing people. Look at that previous passage. Complimentary, disparaging, filled with contradictions, and totally, totally honest, I don't think there's another passage quite like it in another post 9/11 war memoir. And each character gets an introduction like this. No fluffy descriptions, Wright lays it all out.

This honesty permeates Generation Kill. "Embarrassing" details are noted, from the inconsequential (ball scratching, masturbating, profanity) to the world-shaking (killing civilians, killing animals, drug use). This book passes the sniff test. (Importantly, Wright describes the platoon's rampant ephedra use, which we'll get into next week when we compare this book to Nathaniel Fick's account of the same events and people).

But Generation Kill is crude in the right proportion. He mentions shitting and pissing, without obsessing over it like Swofford does in Jarhead, or ignoring it like virtually every other writer. His prose is profane, but intelligently so. And for the first time in the memoirs I have read, this book pays attention to and accounts for every civilian casualty his battalion committed.

Generation Kill benefits from being written by a reporter. Wright questions events if he can't confirm them, interviews a wide swath of leaders and Commanding Officers, and contextualizes the invasion. He explains why the battalion took such a strange route through Iraq, and what the Colonel was thinking. Wright sets the stage like few other memoirs do. As a writer, he understands pacing. If the scene gets too boring, he'll jump to the action of another platoon.

The Bad

Of course, this book isn't perfect. Like Fick's book, Generation Kill tells a real story, and that story--despite Wright's well paced prose--is monotonous. And the same free flowing vernacular prose I praised a few paragraphs ago does call attention to itself at times, like on page 102 when he writes, "blow the F*** out of a Humvee." or uses the phrase "big-honking."

There are more serious problems though. Some of Wright's characterization are downright vilifying, particularly with the code-named "Captain America," "Encino Man" and "Casey Kasem" characters. After reading multiple war memoirs, I have to conclude: the Marine Corps hates their leadership.

The most glaring mistake is this book's title, "Generation Kill." Wright's central thesis, played out in this title and the opening chapters, is that this generation of Marines is somehow different than the old one. Instead of the "greatest generation," today's Marines are "Generation Kill." They aren't.

It plays into one of Wright's other weaknesses, his tendency to generalize. Generalizing in war memoirs is mostly futile, and Wright generalizes all the time--in an organization of 200,000 it is hard to say something true about all of them. But Wright takes things that feel specific to his platoon--like them treating Charms candies as "infernal talismans"--and applies it to the entire Marine Corps.

In Closing

That's a lot of bad, but you should know Generation Kill was a lot of good. If you had to read one first person account of this war, please read this book. I know what you're thinking, didn't you say your favorite war memoir was The War I Always Wanted? I did. But this book is better, partly because it is written by a reporter and professional writer (I'll be writing on this in two weeks, why professional writers are better). His knowledge of timing, pacing and prose just surpasses that of Soldiers or Marines. So if you want to read a book by a Soldier or Marine, read Friedman. But for the best account of this of the war in Iraq, read Generation Kill.

Mar 11

(Today's post is a guest post by Sarah Sofia Granborg of Living in Scandinavia. If you would like to guest write for us, please check out our guest post guidelines. We look forward to publishing reader posts on future Thursdays.

Quick note: The views of guest writers are not necessarily the view of Michael C or Eric C. For our take, please check out the comments below.)

Let’s assume for a moment that man is not just a lump of meat and bones, but a unit of body and mind/spirit. In other words, think of every soldier as a spiritual being. (Depending on whether you're religious or not, you might want to call that "the soul" or perhaps "the psyche".) Whatever the case, the individual/personality of the soldier is not a physical thing that can be touched or even killed. On the battlefield “only” his body can be shot or blown into bits and pieces.

If we take that statement one step further, we realize that whatever experiences a soldier has had before this lifetime will influence his performance in the present time.

This influence usually occurs on an emotional level that we are not aware of--whether it's from this lifetime or before. We're talking about the sub-conscious memories and emotions triggered by certain events or things that remind us of moments gone by.

What is the relevance of this? Well, which kind of soldier would you rather have by your side: one who is fighting a random war because of inexplicable fears, or one who is aware of his background and in control over his responses?

The second one is the guy who signed up for all the right reasons, his motivation solely based on sane and honorable standards, with the intention to do what is for the greatest good.

He is the one you can rely on when the going gets tough!

People who are not aware of this mechanism simply do not survive as well, particularly in action. Like Brandon Friedman in The War I Always Wanted, it's all such a shock for him, and he has no idea how ugly it's going to get. All this makes him feel uneasy, exposed and vulnerable.

If, however, you are aware of the emotional connection, you can get to know yourself so well, that you will be able to predict much better and act accordingly.

The first step is awareness. If you are aware of how you genuinely feel about things, you can ask yourself why, and if you can answer honestly, all the mystery is gone. You're on solid ground. But that requires honesty. The ability to stay on track and remain focused, as well as the courage to be yourself and be true to what you know to be right, no matter what the consequences.

As for past-lives, some techniques to remember them seem to work, whereas others just seem to fall into the category of "dangerous brainwash" (like NLP and hypnosis).

Personally I just went with the flow. I stuck to what I knew was sane and the truth. For example, if you dream the same thing again and again, with heavy emotion and full perceptions, then there is bound to be something there.

And once you've looked at it and seen it the way it really was, then you're free of that influence.

By the way, I'm neither a religious fanatic nor an esoteric freak. I've simply been close to death so many times that I realized that there is more than the body. I realized you can make those emotional connections work for you, rather than against you, by remembering things like past-life-training and other skills.

Mar 10

Over at WriteToDone last week, Eric C argued that before you can break the rules, you have to know the rules. Thelonious Monk knew how to play harmonious music, he choose not to. Pablo Picasso knew hot to paint photo-realistically, he choose not to.  James Joyce certainly knew how to use quotation marks, he chose not to.

The last Executive Officer I worked for coined the phrase, “doctrine is not dogma.” Because he was a SAMS (School of Advanced Military Studies, the Army's premier planning course) graduate, he knew Army doctrine. He knew the rules so, like any artist, he knew when he could break them.

I loved this. Returning to the home of Army doctrine--US Army Training and Doctrine Command, the parent organization of the Military Intelligence Career Course--shocked me after my time on staff at the ROCK. Too many Commissioned Officers, NCOs, Warrant Officers, and contractors forget that guidelines are not rules, that doctrine is not dogma, and that the science of war cannot replace the art of war.

Of the above problems, the worst mistake is turning guidelines into rules. In other words, the Army creates well meaning guidelines to help plan and conduct operations, but over time those guidelines become rules. Rules become constraints. Fight under too many constraints, and you will lose.

Here is an example: a Cold Warrior (Cold Warrior means those officers who trained heavily under Cold War force-on-force, US-vs-Russia doctrine) recently told me that you always use your weapons at their maximum effective range. In practice, this means if you are occupying a battle position, you should have a couple hundred meters in front of your position. This is a good guideline. Who doesn't want a few more shots at the enemy that an extra couple hundred meters provide? As a rule, though, it stinks. Ambushes rarely use weapons at their full maximum effective range, but they are devastatingly effective. Machine guns work as well at close range as at long ranges.

As a guideline, the rule above is great. As a rule, it is limiting. Through repeated planning exercises, yearly training rotations and the re-use of old products, guidelines became rules. Because of tradition or lack of creativity, rules became dogma.

Definitions. A guideline is a good rule of thumb. It is something you should follow most of the time, but doesn’t apply in every situation. A rule is something that if you violate it, the results will usually portend disaster. The distinction is subtle, but huge.

The great commanders of history all had exceptional knowledge of the art of warfare, the science of warfare, doctrine, and military history. Based on this knowledge, they knew all the guidelines, and used that to their advantage. Think about General Patton. He understood his enemy and his doctrine. When he faced Rommel he threw that doctrine right back in his face. Is the US Army today more like General Patton or General Rommel? If we obey doctrine to the letter, will the enemy use this to his advantage?

As we slowly transition to a post-Iraq and post-Afghanistan world, the guidelines-turned-rules will return from their ten year hibernation. We must relegate them back to their status as guidelines; good advice but not absolute laws. This post, I acknowledge, is vague on details. Over the next few weeks, I am going to debunk a few of these guidelines that have become rules.

Mar 08

In the late nineties, Korean Airways had an statistically high number of plane crashes. The reason? Because of a strict Asian culture with a low tolerance for failure, co-pilots hesitated to inform their captains when they made critical mistakes. As a result, planes crashed. The culture of Korea, and Korean Airlines, was to blame for the high crash rate.

Two weeks ago, I praised Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers: The Story of Success for its insights. In that post, I wrote about how individuals become successful; today, I will expand into what makes cultures successful.

Outliers asks a very basic question: how does culture influence success? The US Army has a distinct culture: technologically-oriented, maneuver-focused, leadership-driven, top-down. And this culture has struggled for eight years to defeat the insurgencies in Afghanistan and Iraq. (Their own plane crashes if you will.) Outliers, of course, never mentions insurgencies or the army, but asserts an idea every Army officer should understand: your culture defines you. Only after understanding your culture can you break out of its confines.

An example: from the end of Vietnam to the Iraq invasion, maneuver commanders trained to lead battalion and brigade sized operations. There is a reason for this, large operations in a high intensity environment are difficult and complex operations. As I have written before, though, counter-insurgencies are no place for large operations. Our Army culture--through doctrine, leadership and practice--wants to continue conducting large scale operations, counter-insurgency be damned.

The US Army needs to ask if it has a culture of success, and I don’t think it is. Gladwell argues that certain cultures breed intellectual curiosity and intense work ethics. Is the Army one of those cultures? Do we care about reading military history? Learning languages? Developing new ideas and tactics?

Or do we care about physical fitness and fantastic PowerPoints?

Another example: Outliers mentions that Southern culture tends to respond violently to personal insults. The upshot is that Southerners believe in honor, and have a willingness to fight for that honor. 23% of the Army is from the South, and its cultural influences run even deeper. How does this affect the Army's culture? Or how we wage insurgencies?

The theory of “power-distance" is another important idea. High power-distance relationships discourage direct confrontation; low-power relationships allow subordinates to challenge their leaders. Is the US Military a low or high power-distance organization? America is a low power-distance nation, but the Military has some distinct high power-distance characteristics (rank, customs and courtesy, and saluting all reinforce high-power relationships). I have a feeling many in CENTCOM and DoD knew invading Iraq would turn out poorly, but high power-distance relationships discouraged honest discussion. Like Korean Airways, staff officers at CENTCOM saw the US Military plane crashing, but could not communicate that to General Franks.

Outliers: The Story of Success has a simple theme: think about what makes people successful. The Army should examine what social science tells us about how success really works, not how it worked in the 1950s. We are an industrial Army fighting information wars. We need to adapt.

Mar 05

There's a debate raging over the The Hurt Locker. In short, critics love it; Soldiers and veterans not so much.

Critics love the film in part for its supposed accuracy. Kenneth Turan of the Los Angeles Times described the film as "overflowing with crackling verisimilitude." David Denby of the New Yorker claimed that The Hurt Locker "will be studied twenty years from now when people want to understand something of what happened to American soldiers in Iraq."

I sure hope not.

As Brandon Friedman wrote on VetsVoice, "if you know anything about the Army, or about operations or life in Iraq, you'll be so distracted by the nonsensical sequences and plot twists that it will ruin the movie for you." Or as Christian Lowe explains a bit more harshly, ""Some of the scenes are so disconnected with reality to be almost parody."

In short, The Hurt Locker is a tactical, not to mention historical, mess.

Many war movies have unrealistic elements (read: Inglorious Basterds), why does this one touch a nerve? The Hurt Locker is essentially an action film--A.O. Scott and other critics have described it as such--when it didn't need to be. The stories and lives of regular Soldiers could fill countless mini-series worth of drama and comedy without "enhancing" the truth as Kathryn Bigelow does in The Hurt Locker. You don't have to sensationalize the military to make it exciting; it already is.

The Hurt Locker's very premise is misleading. The military doesn't disarm bombs while wearing bomb suits and cutting wires, we place a brick of C4 explosive on top. One push of the button and the IED detonates safely. True, some situations call for disarming an IED up close, but nine times out of ten a robot motors out to it while the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) techs sit in their trucks. Why? Because this is safer, quicker, cheaper and more efficient than disarming it. It isn't as exciting, but it is what happens.

But safer and more efficient does not equal safe. In Afghanistan, I patrolled a nine kilometer road where an IED had already taken a Soldier's legs. Every day we patrolled that road we felt fear, the fear that at any point an IED could detonate underneath our vehicle. We found multiple IEDs, but one still gets me. As we dismounted to clear the sides of the road, one of my Soldiers stopped me and pointed forward. About ten meters dead in my path was an IED pointing right at me. We waited two hours for EOD to arrive by helicopter. The resulting explosion was spectacular. The entire episode was filled with the tension The Hurt Locker tries to achieve. That find by itself would make a great short film, no extra Hollywood flair needed.

My main worry, though, is that this film will define the Iraq War the way Apocalypse Now defines the Vietnam war. If critics/pundits/whoever tell the public The Hurt Locker is realistic, it will write a false history of the war. It doesn't mean that you can't learn about this war without deploying to it. But most will never study it, and war films will define their images about this war. I don't want this film to define those false images for us.

As David Denby wrote above: soldiers will be watching this film years form now. They need to know what actually happened. So does everyone else.

The Hurt Locker Link Drop:

This isn't a comprehensive link drop, but we hope it covers the major pieces of the debate.

The Huffington Post, on behalf of VetVoice, first launched the debate. Former Soldiers Kate Hoit and, one of our favorites, Brandon Friedman, posted two well aimed critiques at the accuracy of The Hurt Locker.

In response, two retired EOD techs James P. O'Neil and James Clifford disputed the charge that Soldiers are upset with the film. The most interesting point about these two rebuttals is that they only speak for two communities: the retired and EOD. EOD personnel love the film because it made their acronym known for the first time ever. The retired community doesn't know much either way because they haven't deployed. Much like critics, to them this film is as real as it gets.

Before those pieces, and some after, were a few excellent posts on the blogosphere. The general consensus from The Best Defense and Army of Dude is that the film is good overall, but has a few glaring flaws. Bouhammer, on the other hand, devastates the film and comes much closer to my own personal views. Finally, I have never read this blog, but they do a very good critique of the film.

After the blogosphere broke the topic, the main stream media picked it up. USA Today, Newsweek and the PBS Newshour all ran pieces describing the debate without injecting much of their own opinion. 60 Minutes didn't mention it in this piece on Kathryn Bigelow.

It isn't a blog, but the goofs page on IMDB absolutely hammers the film. It doesn't have a view any one way, and some of the criticisms are beyond nit picky, but it is a great resource of the various errors.

Finally, if you want to see all the reviews of this film check out the metacritic page.

Update: Just found this interview by screenwriter John Boal over at Creative Screenwriting magazine. In it, Boal explains that accuracy is one of his main concerns for him as a screenwriter, and bemoans other plot-oriented films he consideres less realitic. This is as much his concern as it is ours.

Mar 04

(In a break from our usual programming, On Violence is talking Academy Awards all week. Today everyone trashes on "Inglorious Basterds." Tomorrow we'll close up with a "The Hurt Locker" review and and link drop.)

Eric C's Second Take on Inglorious Basterds

I ended my last post on Inglorious Basterds asking you not to think too hard about the film. Quentin Tarantino disagrees. Not because he makes "important" films--he's never really tried to do that--but because Quentin Tarantino loves sub-textual film criticism, as he mentioned in an interview with Terry Gross. Fortunately, I do too.

So what's Inglorious Basterds about, beneath the surface? Propaganda and the German film industry. Goebbels is a supporting character, and the film's climax revolves around a propaganda film premiere. This propaganda film-within-a-film, which depicts a German sniper shooting hundreds of Americans from a bell tower, is over-the-top, absurd and unstomachingly jingoistic. Of course, that's also a pretty accurate description of Inglorious Basterds.

And that's the rub, isn't it? Despite being critical of propaganda, Inglorious Basterds is itself propaganda. Nazis, as I wrote before, are the easiest villains in the world to caricature. In his introduction to The Moon is Down, Donald V. Coers describes the common stereotypes of Germans in wartime propaganda, "heel clicking Huns...depraved, monocled intellectuals...thundering seig heils" or as Tarantino said, "if you want to see jack-booting Nazis in movies, you've got to watch American movies made at that time."

Or you could just watch Inglorious Basterds today. Hans Landa embodies a depraved intellectual. Goebbels is a pervert. Hitler acts like a moronic child. The heroic Nazi sniper is also a sexual predator.

Unlike propaganda by Germans or Americans in the 30's and 40's, Inglorious Basterds' impact is negligible; the war ended sixty years ago. It's more disturbing when Marcus Luttrell writes the jingoistic soon-to-be-filmed Lone Survivor today, or when Turkish filmmakers make the rabidly anti-American In the Valley of Wolves: Iraq, the most popular film in Turkish cinema history. Current propaganda spreads hate and fear; Inglorious Basterds spreads a nostalgic hate and fear.

Doesn't make it any less ridiculous.

Matty P's Take On Inglorious Basterds

Two soldiers face one another; one a Nazi and one an American. One man obstinately allows himself to be bludgeoned to death rather than betray his allies. With defiant dignity, he kneels awaiting a gruesome death at the hands of his captors, displaying a solemn honor at dying for the sake of his country and his comrades. Yet this man who loses his life is not meant to be a hero. He is the villain because he is a Nazi.

For me, this scene from Quentin Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds epitomizes my disconnect with the movie. An action movie about Jewish vengeance against the Nazi regime, the protagonists lack the moral fortitude of the Nazi that they kill. The heroes, the people the audience are meant to be cheering, descend to the very same moral depths as the Nazis they despise. It's been mentioned here at On V and elsewhere that the heroes commit acts of violence which mirror historical atrocities committed by Nazi soldiers and guards (namely, carving swastikas in the foreheads of the enemy). They also fire into crowds, beat men to death with baseball bats, and appear to be the worst covert ops insertion team in history as none bothered to learn German.

My problem isn't with using the Nazi party as antagonists. The best Indiana Jones movies pit the archeology professor against the Third Reich. As a large portion of my family is of German Jewish decent, I enjoy watching the staunch monocled Nazi stereotype outwitted by a plucky hero. My outrage stems from portrayals of American soldiers who appear more vicious and morally vapid than their Nazi counterparts.

Michael C on Ambushes and Inglorious Basterds


I have many issues with Inglorious Basterds, but I don't have enough room to cover them all. Instead, I will write about how Quentin Tarantino filmed sucky ambushes.

When we finally catch up with the Basterds in France, they are standing around two survivors of a slaughtered German platoon. The Basterds take their time interrogating the prisoners; they torture both, murder one, and then release the surviving Soldier, all this in the same place where they ambushed the German patrol.

In real life, an ambush is tactical mission that allows a smaller element to disrupt the operations of a larger force. It has two things going for it: surprise and speed. Surprise when you initiate the ambush, and speed as you destroy enemy forces and then exfiltrate. The longer you hang around on the objective (where you conducted the ambush), the sooner you will be discovered and killed.

Tarantino's Basterds break a fundamental rule of warfare in pursuit of his Nazi-violence-porn fantasy.

Is it that important that I tear apart one tactical mistake in Inglorious Basterds? It is. Inglorious Basterds butchered the past to fulfill some dumb fantasy. It doesn't deserve a Best Picture nomination.

(Also, I could barely sit through it and Eric C left in the middle to chase tail. It was that boring.)

Mar 03

(In a break from our usual programming, On Violence is talking Academy Awards all week. Today Eric c and Matty P discuss the highest grossing film of all time, "Avatar." Tomorrow we'll have a "The Hurt Locker" review and link drop, and Friday we'll tear "Inglorious Basterds" a new one.)

Eric C's Take:

So here's the thing. A number of conservatives have blasted Avatar for being too liberal. If I had to choose one synecdoche  (sorry, Will) for this backlash, it would be this lazy right-wing hit-job by Orange County Register columnist Brian Calle.  More conservative name calling than actual critique, Calle calls Avatar "progressive indoctrination," "phrenic leftist sustenance," and "preachy, psychedelic satiation of leftist worldviews."

More substantive commentators have complained that the film is too pro-environment, too anti-military, and too filled with white guilt. This blows my mind. I don't think Avatar could more accurately describe what humans are going to do when we have the technoglogy that enables to us colonize other planets. In the same way that District 9  accurately depicts what would happen if alien refugees came to Earth, I'm pretty sure we will dismiss aliens as expendable animals. It will be way easier than when white people dismissed blacks, Indians or Muslims as such.

This is one of those times when conservatives--who are fond of calling liberals idealistic and niaive--are being idealistic and naive. Slavery was legal in America less than 150 years ago. The last grizzly bear was shot in California less than 90 years ago. England left India 60 years ago. Hopefully we've evolved past some elements of our ugly nature, but we probably haven't.

So don't be naive. We have an ugly past, and it is exactly why we need films like Avatar.

Matty P's Take:

Recently, Avatar brought to light a new scenario. Perhaps not new, but definitely something I hadn't previously considered: humans as the antagonists for a sci-fi film. Not just humans as individuals since most movies have a "bad guy" who is human, but humans as a species. In Avatar, the human race is portrayed as the bully and evil entity while an alien race acts as righteous defender.

What is typical of the science fiction genre is that a malevolent species tries to conquer or destroy humanity. Consider the plethora of movies: Invasion of the Body SnatchersThe FacultyIndependence Day, Mars Attacks!, War of the Worlds, Predator, Aliens, The Thing, Species, Signs, Killer Clowns From Space, V, Space Jam, It Came From Outerspace and Monsters vs Aliens to name a few. Even Andromeda Strain is about an extraterrestrial virus that threatens humanity. Fewer are the movies like ET: The Extraterrestrial or Close Encounters of the Third Kind that portray benevolent otherworldly creatures.

Rarer still is humanity the conqueror.

As one watches Avatar, we are encouraged to side with a blue alien species while human beings are vilified for their various lusts. When they clash, the viewer is forced to take sides. Do we defend our own kind and our own needs at the expense of an alien world and its inhabitants or do we side with strangers who wish nothing more than to protect their homes? The clash does come at a point where the human’s seem to lack moral grounds and the Navi are justified in their protests. The viewer naturally sides with the aliens.

There’s something strange in this: to side against one’s own species; to desire human beings to be defeated or to be strangely indifferent or even glad when one human character is slain. It is fiction, but fiction mirrors reality. Perhaps it's simply an example of following our moral compass regardless of race or species. Or perhaps what we should take from it is that our enemies are never truly as evil as we make them appear to be, nor are we as good. 

The question remains: is there anything wrong with siding against humanity or in hoping that we lose?