The “mountain-sea” spirit means that it is bad to repeat the same thing several times when fighting the enemy. There may be no help but to do something twice, but do not try it a third time. If you once make an attack and fail, there is little chance of success if you use the same approach again.
Although I would infer him to have already been aware of certain exceptions, e.g.:
If you and your opponent both know eachother to be skilled and masters of the way, then attempting the same tactic a third time becomes a different tactic; you are making an attack which your opponent would never expect you to try again.
It’s a common failure mode of intermediate-level students of a competitive discipline to fall prey to the simplest tactics used by the weakest beginners, simply because they expect their opponent not to use said weak and simple tactics. For example, experienced chess players losing repeatedly to a complete beginner because they’re used to playing against stronger and stronger opponents as they were gaining their experience. I’ve seen it happen often, and it’s happened to me too.
ETA: I acknowledge that the example above isn’t quite what is seen out there. What I had in mind was a one-off thing—of intermediate players, a “significant amount” (not the majority, but I’d guess “enough so that most experienced players have seen it happen more than once”) go through a point at least once where they repeatedly lose against a player much less experienced than them, because of the reasons above. This second point is also debatable, but I think it’s worth splitting and distinguishing between the two.
For example, experienced chess players losing repeatedly to a complete beginner because they’re used to playing against stronger and stronger opponents as they were gaining their experience.
Huh? AFAIK, chess players pretty much never lose to players rated 400 Elo less, and higher rated players are more consistent. This applies double for Go.
I think a weaker version of this statement (“repeatedly”->”more often than one naively might expect”) might be true for poker.
For example, experienced chess players losing repeatedly to a complete beginner because they’re used to playing against stronger and stronger opponents as they were gaining their experience.
What works in chess does not necessarily generalize to swordfights. In a duel your responses to your opponent’s techniques are mostly cached actions carried out on reflex, and and any ideas you might have about how many times your opponent is likely to try any particular move are not likely to have that much influence on how you react.
How you set up the move certainly makes a difference, the same technique can be used in many different ways, but if you take a specific approach and your opponent defeats it once, you shouldn’t count on it working the next time, and if they defeat it twice, you should be even more confident it won’t work if you try it again.
From my experience as a fencer, I can affirm that facing a beginner can be disorienting, because when you train to respond to intelligent and efficient techniques, unintelligent and inefficient ones are just confusing. I’ve never known an experienced fencer to lose to a newbie, because when one person is using efficient techniques and the other isn’t, and both are unfamiliar with how to respond to their opponent, the efficient one will win, but it can be pretty frustrating.
On the other hand, having a newbie opponent try the same thing repeatedly even when it’s not working is one of the least troublesome things they’re likely to do.
What works in chess does not necessarily generalize to swordfights. In a duel your responses to your opponent’s techniques are mostly cached actions carried out on reflex,
Chess openings are largely cached among professionals.
I’ve never known an experienced fencer to lose to a newbie
Not in a ten-point bout. Very rarely in a five-point bout. I’ve seen it happen in one-point bouts, though.
Agreed on trying the same thing multiple times. Part of this is that fencing (whether epee fencing or the slower katana play that Musashi was talking about) is decided on the quarter-second level, a couple orders of magnitude below what you’d get even in speed chess, but I think informational effects are just as important in this case. A great deal of the metagame of martial arts depends on having the correct low-level reactions to your opponent’s moves, and working memory has a lot to do with this; trying the same thing twice will prime your opponent quite strongly to respond to it a third time, no matter how strong a fencer you are. (It’s possible to exploit this by trying a superficially similar move that’ll defeat the expected counter, or to feint a move you previously used and go to a second-intention attack.)
Not in a ten-point bout. Very rarely in a five-point bout. I’ve seen it happen in one-point bouts, though.
At my club, I don’t think anyone really fenced one-point bouts. Three rarely. The newbie would sometimes get points though, so if they had been fencing one point bouts, they would have had a chance. Five was the standard where I fenced, and I don’t remember seeing a newbie ever win one.
Five was the standard where I fenced, and I don’t remember seeing a newbie ever win one.
Anything else would have surprised me. Fencing would probably not have acquired its current status and reputation had it been so reliant on things other than training and skill.
Yes, I fully agree that things will work differently depending on the specific rules of the specific competition.
I’m mostly referring to questions of strategy and metagame. In terms of a specific type of strike in fencing, for instance, things have to become a bit more contrived for this to become applicable. Two really great fencers could, for instance, face off in a duel of mindgame meta, where one strikes twice in a manner that is unlikely to succeed, but is an attack on the pacing of the duel, attempting to take control of it, which the other will respond to.
On the third attempt of this technique, the opponent might anticipate a slight change in the technique, such as the strike turning into an actual attack, and prepare a more diverse set of reactions to counter how their opponent might avoid their default reaction (which they have now seen twice, and may have figured out a way to circumvent). Then, the game takes more depth, as both fencers become aware that there are more possible reactions, but that who takes control of the battle’s pacing will depend on the attacker’s anticipation of their opponents’ style and possible reactions.
As I said, very contrived, but I could plausibly see this happening in high-caliber duels, naturally occurring at the quarter-second level or faster, particularly for fencing from what I know.
For example, experienced chess players losing repeatedly to a complete beginner because they’re used to playing against stronger and stronger opponents as they were gaining their experience. I’ve seen it happen often, and it’s happened to me too.
Are you sure you aren’t just remembering outliers or some other explanation? I’ve had superficially similar experiences but as far as I can tell, it was due to a simple lack of thinking on my part when playing against the very weak players.
In context, this particular quote seems to be talking more about large-scale battles than individual duels. So, if you’ve already launched your cavalry at the enemy twice, and they were driven off in disarray each time, then another try is probably not going to work even if your enemy doesn’t expect it.
I didn’t see any discussion of strategy or leadership in the Book of the Five Rings.
I have, however, seen many cases in competitive gaming where correctly judging what my opponent was expecting me to do allowed me to counter them more effectively. There are a large number of meta-levels there, and operating two levels above your opponent is typically as bad as operating one level below them.
The principles of strategy are written down here in terms of single combat, but you must think broadly so that you attain an understanding for ten-thousand-a-side battles.
It appears to me that Musashi intends his principles to be applicable to either duel or battle. There are several illustrations that imply that he is not just talking about duels:
First, in large-scale strategy, when the enemy first discharges bows and guns and then attacks, it is difficult for us to attack if we are busy loading powder into our guns or notching our arrows. The spirit is to attack quickly while the enemy is still shooting with bows or guns. The spirit is to win by “treading down” as we receive the enemy’s attack.
In large-scale strategy, when you cannot see the enemy’s position, indicate that you are about to attack strongly, to discover his resources.
In large-scale strategy you can frighten the enemy not by what you present to their eyes, but by shouting, making a small force seem large, or by threatening them from the flank without warning.
In large-scale strategy, it is beneficial to strike at the corners of the enemy’s force, If the corners are overthrown, the spirit of the whole body will be overthrown.
I suspect that ‘flanks’ might be a more idiomatic translation of that last. But at any rate it is clear that Musashi does not limit his advice to individual combat.
For example, experienced chess players losing repeatedly to a complete beginner because they’re used to playing
against stronger and stronger opponents as they were gaining their experience.
One interesting question here is what are the features of games where this does happen? In my view a much weaker player may win against a much stronger player in a game where the following features are present:
(a) There is strong “metagame” (that is, multiple equilibria). A beginner may not be aware of the current equilibrium and may defect in hard to predict ways that may give an advantage.
(b) There is randomness. A much stronger player may be modelled as a computationally omnipotent adversary. Such adversaries still cannot “read the minds” of randomness sources. A game that interprets a beginner’s flailing as randomness can make it situationally powerful.
(c) The game is short enough such that the stronger player cannot learn what’s going on due to (a) or (b) quickly enough to turn the tide.
The “mountain-sea” spirit means that it is bad to repeat the same thing several times when fighting the enemy. There may be no help but to do something twice, but do not try it a third time.
Unless, say, you’re going to overwhelm a critical position with superior numbers and superior technology at a tactically convenient time.
In some such cases being utterly predictable even has benefits. People who know they are going to lose and die if they fight are more inclined to surrender or flee. (This has obvious advantages if you are a pirate with a fearsome who doesn’t want casualties.)
If you once make an attack and fail, there is little chance of success if you use the same approach again.
That actually sounds like solid advice in most situations. (Assuming ‘fail’ excludes ‘weakened them significantly but did not quite defeat them’. Obviously a second attack then should be evaluated as a different approach.)
Yes. The whole thing should be read as elaboration of one piece of advice—the individual sentences are not meant to stand on their own. If you’re overwhelming the enemy with multiple attacks, then none of them should be counted as failure.
And FWIW, Musashi was primarily writing about swordsmanship, not command.
Myiamoto Musashi, Book of the Five Rings.
Although I would infer him to have already been aware of certain exceptions, e.g.:
If you and your opponent both know eachother to be skilled and masters of the way, then attempting the same tactic a third time becomes a different tactic; you are making an attack which your opponent would never expect you to try again.
It’s a common failure mode of intermediate-level students of a competitive discipline to fall prey to the simplest tactics used by the weakest beginners, simply because they expect their opponent not to use said weak and simple tactics. For example, experienced chess players losing repeatedly to a complete beginner because they’re used to playing against stronger and stronger opponents as they were gaining their experience. I’ve seen it happen often, and it’s happened to me too.
ETA: I acknowledge that the example above isn’t quite what is seen out there. What I had in mind was a one-off thing—of intermediate players, a “significant amount” (not the majority, but I’d guess “enough so that most experienced players have seen it happen more than once”) go through a point at least once where they repeatedly lose against a player much less experienced than them, because of the reasons above. This second point is also debatable, but I think it’s worth splitting and distinguishing between the two.
Huh? AFAIK, chess players pretty much never lose to players rated 400 Elo less, and higher rated players are more consistent. This applies double for Go.
I think a weaker version of this statement (“repeatedly”->”more often than one naively might expect”) might be true for poker.
I defy the data.
What works in chess does not necessarily generalize to swordfights. In a duel your responses to your opponent’s techniques are mostly cached actions carried out on reflex, and and any ideas you might have about how many times your opponent is likely to try any particular move are not likely to have that much influence on how you react.
How you set up the move certainly makes a difference, the same technique can be used in many different ways, but if you take a specific approach and your opponent defeats it once, you shouldn’t count on it working the next time, and if they defeat it twice, you should be even more confident it won’t work if you try it again.
From my experience as a fencer, I can affirm that facing a beginner can be disorienting, because when you train to respond to intelligent and efficient techniques, unintelligent and inefficient ones are just confusing. I’ve never known an experienced fencer to lose to a newbie, because when one person is using efficient techniques and the other isn’t, and both are unfamiliar with how to respond to their opponent, the efficient one will win, but it can be pretty frustrating.
On the other hand, having a newbie opponent try the same thing repeatedly even when it’s not working is one of the least troublesome things they’re likely to do.
Chess openings are largely cached among professionals.
They’re usually not cached at the level where you have any chance at all of losing to a complete beginner.
Not in a ten-point bout. Very rarely in a five-point bout. I’ve seen it happen in one-point bouts, though.
Agreed on trying the same thing multiple times. Part of this is that fencing (whether epee fencing or the slower katana play that Musashi was talking about) is decided on the quarter-second level, a couple orders of magnitude below what you’d get even in speed chess, but I think informational effects are just as important in this case. A great deal of the metagame of martial arts depends on having the correct low-level reactions to your opponent’s moves, and working memory has a lot to do with this; trying the same thing twice will prime your opponent quite strongly to respond to it a third time, no matter how strong a fencer you are. (It’s possible to exploit this by trying a superficially similar move that’ll defeat the expected counter, or to feint a move you previously used and go to a second-intention attack.)
At my club, I don’t think anyone really fenced one-point bouts. Three rarely. The newbie would sometimes get points though, so if they had been fencing one point bouts, they would have had a chance. Five was the standard where I fenced, and I don’t remember seeing a newbie ever win one.
Anything else would have surprised me. Fencing would probably not have acquired its current status and reputation had it been so reliant on things other than training and skill.
Yes, I fully agree that things will work differently depending on the specific rules of the specific competition.
I’m mostly referring to questions of strategy and metagame. In terms of a specific type of strike in fencing, for instance, things have to become a bit more contrived for this to become applicable. Two really great fencers could, for instance, face off in a duel of mindgame meta, where one strikes twice in a manner that is unlikely to succeed, but is an attack on the pacing of the duel, attempting to take control of it, which the other will respond to.
On the third attempt of this technique, the opponent might anticipate a slight change in the technique, such as the strike turning into an actual attack, and prepare a more diverse set of reactions to counter how their opponent might avoid their default reaction (which they have now seen twice, and may have figured out a way to circumvent). Then, the game takes more depth, as both fencers become aware that there are more possible reactions, but that who takes control of the battle’s pacing will depend on the attacker’s anticipation of their opponents’ style and possible reactions.
As I said, very contrived, but I could plausibly see this happening in high-caliber duels, naturally occurring at the quarter-second level or faster, particularly for fencing from what I know.
Are you sure you aren’t just remembering outliers or some other explanation? I’ve had superficially similar experiences but as far as I can tell, it was due to a simple lack of thinking on my part when playing against the very weak players.
In context, this particular quote seems to be talking more about large-scale battles than individual duels. So, if you’ve already launched your cavalry at the enemy twice, and they were driven off in disarray each time, then another try is probably not going to work even if your enemy doesn’t expect it.
I didn’t see any discussion of strategy or leadership in the Book of the Five Rings.
I have, however, seen many cases in competitive gaming where correctly judging what my opponent was expecting me to do allowed me to counter them more effectively. There are a large number of meta-levels there, and operating two levels above your opponent is typically as bad as operating one level below them.
It appears to me that Musashi intends his principles to be applicable to either duel or battle. There are several illustrations that imply that he is not just talking about duels:
I suspect that ‘flanks’ might be a more idiomatic translation of that last. But at any rate it is clear that Musashi does not limit his advice to individual combat.
One interesting question here is what are the features of games where this does happen? In my view a much weaker player may win against a much stronger player in a game where the following features are present:
(a) There is strong “metagame” (that is, multiple equilibria). A beginner may not be aware of the current equilibrium and may defect in hard to predict ways that may give an advantage.
(b) There is randomness. A much stronger player may be modelled as a computationally omnipotent adversary. Such adversaries still cannot “read the minds” of randomness sources. A game that interprets a beginner’s flailing as randomness can make it situationally powerful.
(c) The game is short enough such that the stronger player cannot learn what’s going on due to (a) or (b) quickly enough to turn the tide.
Unless, say, you’re going to overwhelm a critical position with superior numbers and superior technology at a tactically convenient time.
In some such cases being utterly predictable even has benefits. People who know they are going to lose and die if they fight are more inclined to surrender or flee. (This has obvious advantages if you are a pirate with a fearsome who doesn’t want casualties.)
That actually sounds like solid advice in most situations. (Assuming ‘fail’ excludes ‘weakened them significantly but did not quite defeat them’. Obviously a second attack then should be evaluated as a different approach.)
Yes. The whole thing should be read as elaboration of one piece of advice—the individual sentences are not meant to stand on their own. If you’re overwhelming the enemy with multiple attacks, then none of them should be counted as failure.
And FWIW, Musashi was primarily writing about swordsmanship, not command.