If you spend more than a few minutes working as an analyst--operations, program, logistics, personnel, or otherwise--it is almost inevitable that some wise military soul will offer trenchant historical lessons about undue trust in analytics for decision making derived from the performance of Robert McNamara as Secretary of Defense. Too often, these criticisms are intended to deflect and deflate criticisms and conclusions of analysis without addressing the analysis itself (an ad hominem approach without so much of the hominem). But that doesn't mean there aren't common mistakes made in the conduct of analysis and worthwhile lessons to be learned from McNamara.This short article from the MIT Technology Review is a bit old, but it also makes a number of useful points. The "body count" metric, for example, is a canonical case of making important what we can measure rather than measuring what's important (if what is important is usefully measurable at all). Is the number of enemy dead (even if we can count it accurately) an effective measure of progress in a war that is other than total? So, why collect and report it? And what second-order effects are induced by a metric like this one? What behavior do we incentivize by the metrics we choose, whether its mendacious reporting of battlefield performance in Vietnam or the tossing of unused car parts in the river?
There's something more fundamental going on in the worship of data, though. We gather more and more detailed information on the performance of ours and our adversaries' systems and think that by adding decimals we add to our "understanding." Do we, though? In his Foundations of Science, Henri Poincaré writes:
If we could know exactly the laws of nature and the situation of the universe at the initial instant, we should be able to predict exactly the situation of this same universe at a subsequent interest. But even when the natural laws should have no further secret for us, we could know the initial situation only approximately. If that permits us to foresee the subsequent situation with the same degree of approximation, this is all we require, we say the phenomenon has been predicted, that it is ruled by laws. But this is not always the case; it may happen that slight differences in the initial conditions produce very great differences in the final phenomenon; a slight error in the former would make an enormous error in the latter. Prediction becomes impossible and we have the fortuitous phenomenon.
Poincare is describing here what would later be dubbed the butterfly effect for nonlinear systems (with the comparison to predicting the weather made explicit in a later chapter). In systems such as these, chasing data is to pursue a unicorn and the end of the rainbow. Rather, it is structure we should chase. Modeling isn't about populating our tools with newer and better data (though this may be important, if secondary). Rather, modeling is about understanding the underlying relationships between the data.
We often hear or read that some General or other should have fought harder against the dictates of the McNamara Pentagon, but one wonders if perhaps such a fight is also the duty of a military analyst.
