As I wrote in my previous post, I have completed I have completed the first complete draft of the book that I've been researching and writing for the past ten years:
I shared the Preface to Fear and Fight in the previous post. In this post, I share the introduction:
INTRODUCTION
The
same survival mechanisms that kept our forefathers alive can help keep us alive
as well! However, those survival mechanisms that can help us can also work
against us if we don’t understand and anticipate their presence.
—U.S.
Army Field Manual 3-5.70: Survival
Bruce
Siddle is an internationally recognised authority on use-of-force training and
the effects of ‘survival stress’ on combat performance. In Sharpening the
Warrior’s Edge, Siddle (1995)
refers to the well-known ‘fight-or-flight response’ as the ‘survival stress
response’ (SSR),
describing it as an automatic physiological reaction that prepares the body to
either fight or flee when exposed to a threat. This reaction enhances strength,
speed, endurance, and pain tolerance—traits that evolved to increase an
individual’s chances of survival in life-threatening situations.
Siddle
(2005) explains
that the SSR is primarily activated under two conditions: when an individual
perceives an imminent deadly force threat and when there is minimal time to
respond to that threat. He suggests that a person walking towards us with a
knife from a distance of 500 yards (457 metres) is unlikely to activate our
SSR, whereas being surprised by the same threat at a distance of 10 feet (3
metres) will almost certainly trigger it.
I
have faced a knife-wielding assailant while unarmed on two separate occasions,
both of which involved the element of surprise and occurred at distances of
less than 10 feet (3 metres). Yet, on both occasions, I did not experience a
SSR reaction. The SSR was selected for in nature because it provided a survival
advantage when one’s life was threatened. Where was my SSR when my life was
threatened by a knife-wielding assailant in two situations that involved both a
distance of less than 10 feet (3 metres) and the element of surprise?
Siddle
(2005) suggests
that while the SSR was advantageous in our evolutionary past, it can interfere
with modern survival skills such as close-quarter combat, firearms use, or
evasive driving. He (Siddle 1995)
refers to this as a ‘combat paradox’: the same response that once ensured our
survival can now undermine it in specific combat scenarios. This raises an
intriguing question: were my survival prospects if fact enhanced because
I didn’t experience a SSR in these critical moments? Either way, the question
remains—why didn’t I experience a SSR which is evolutionarily designed to
promote an individual’s survival when my survival was directly threatened on
two separate occasions? This book is the product of my search for answers to those
questions.
‘Fight
Activities’
The
original intended audience for this book included individuals involved or
interested in martial arts, self-defence, combat sports, security (such as
security officers, bodyguards, and crowd controllers), law enforcement, and the
military. But how can these diverse pursuits be referred to collectively?
What
they all share is a core focus: they train individuals to fight—for different
purposes, certainly, but the ability to fight remains central. For this reason,
this book refers to them collectively as ‘Fight Activities.’
‘Fight Activities’
The
initial intended audience of this book was those engaged or interested in
martial arts, self-defence, combat sports, security (security officer, security
bodyguard, crowd controller), law enforcement, and the military. How can those
activities be referred to collectively? To answer that question, we first need
to ask what those activities have in common. Those activities teach trainees to
fight, to fight for a variety of reasons but to fight nonetheless. For that
reason, those activities will be referred to collectively in this book as
‘Fight Activities.’
Fear
and Fight
Our
principal natural response to a threat is the emotion of fear—and the action
tendency of fear is flight. Fight is not an action tendency of fear, despite
what many suggest when referring to fight-or-flight and stress response
concepts to explain our natural reaction to threats. Fight Activities teach
people how to fight—for a variety of reasons, but to fight nonetheless. They
provide ways and means to overcome fear in order to fight. These methods,
combined with the learned fight behaviours they instil, form our learned
response to a threat.
This
book explores both our natural response—driven by fear—and our learned
response, focusing on the ways Fight Activities help us manage fear in order to
fight. That’s why this book is titled: Fear and Fight.
A
New and Better Understanding of Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat
The
subtitle of this book reflects a desire to deepen our understanding of our
natural and learned responses to threats. The process that produced this understanding
is explained by the work of Gary Klein in Seeing What Others Don’t (2013), where he discusses
how insights can lead to more comprehensive and useful perspectives.
Klein
defines insight as an accurate and profound understanding, suggesting that it
brings forth a new understanding that did not previously exist. This new
understanding is better because it is more accurate, comprehensive, and useful
than prior knowledge. Throughout this book, I aim to share insights that
contribute to a new and better understanding of our natural and learned
responses to threats.
One
of Klein’s paths to insight is curiosity, captured in the simple yet powerful
question: ‘What’s going on here?’ This question serves as a catalyst for
exploration, driving individuals to seek answers. For me, this journey began
with my own ‘What’s going on here?’ moment—sparked by my lack of a
fight-or-flight response during two life-threatening situations. That initial
question led to answers, which in turn sparked more questions and deeper
insights, ultimately shaping my understanding of how we respond to threats.
Klein
emphasises that insights transform our understanding and, in many ways, change
who we are. They can alter our understanding by shifting the central beliefs in
the story we use to make sense of events. This ‘new understanding can give us
new ideas about the kinds of actions we can take; it can redirect our
attention, changing what we see; it can alter the emotions we feel; and it can
affect what we desire’ (Klein 2013, p. 148). This book aspires to facilitate such
transformations for readers, encouraging a shift in how they understand, think,
feel, and act in relation to our responses to threats.
A
Personal Perspective: Generalised Anxiety Disorder and Panic Attacks
What
makes this exploration particularly unique is my diagnosis of generalised
anxiety disorder (GAD) with panic attacks, which offers me a distinctive
insight into both our natural and learned responses to perceived threats.
Living with GAD means that my brain often interprets harmless situations as
threatening, triggering responses as though the danger were real. This allows
me to experience firsthand the instinctive responses to perceived threats, with
anxiety and fear being the principal reaction. At the same time, the treatment
for GAD involves learning to manage these responses, closely mirroring the way military,
law enforcement, and self-defence practitioners are trained to regulate fear in
high-stress situations. This parallel between therapeutic interventions and
combat training demonstrates how learned behaviours can modify our instinctive
reactions. Through this personal lens, I have studied our responses from the
inside out, gaining an intimate understanding of how we handle both real and imagined
threats. My experience informs every chapter of this book, offering a unique
perspective on the interplay between natural and learned responses to a threat.
Structure
of the Book
Many
people refer to the fight-or-flight concept to explain our natural response to
a threat. In Chapter Two, we will explore how this widely accepted concept is
based on a limited and flawed understanding of human survival responses.
However, an accurate understanding of fight-or-flight still forms the basis for
a more comprehensive view of both our natural and learned responses to threats.
Chapter
Three shifts focus to stress, another widely cited concept for explaining our natural
response to danger. Since stress theory is rooted in the fight-or-flight
concept, it shares the same limitations and flaws. Furthermore, because stress
theory emerged from medical and biological research emphasising its negative
effects on health, it has skewed researchers’ understanding of how stress plays
a role in our survival responses.
As
I sought an answer to why I did not experience a stress response when
confronted by a knife-wielding assailant on two separate occasions, I
discovered that stress can be understood as a process involving physiological,
emotional, and behavioural components. While this did not explain my reaction,
it pointed me toward a deeper exploration of the emotional aspect, which proved
instrumental in developing a new and better understanding of threat responses.
Chapter
Four examines emotion. Emotion, for theorists, is more than just a feeling.
It’s a multi-component response to significant threats and opportunities,
evolved to give an individual a survival advantage. In this chapter, an emotion
process model is presented that offers a more accurate, comprehensive, and
useful way to understand threat responses. This model will be applied
throughout the rest of the book to investigate our natural and learned
responses to a threat.
Fear
and its close cousin, anxiety, are the focus of Chapter Five, followed by a
critical analysis in Chapter Six: if fighting is instinctively tied to fear,
why do Fight Activities teach methods for overcoming fear in order to fight?
The
chapters in Part II dissect the individual components of the emotion/survival
process, initially focusing on fear, and explore how interventions by Fight
Activities help individuals overcome fear to fight. Many of these interventions
rely on reason to suppress the emotional response of fear. Chapter 14 delves
into the separation of ‘passion and reason’ and its implications for
self-defence and combat training.
Part
IV applies the theory developed in earlier chapters to real-world contexts,
including military strategy and self-defence. These chapters serve as case
studies, showcasing how understanding fear and learned behaviours can inform
and improve practical applications in survival and combat settings.
Finally,
Part V transitions to the post-phase of violent encounters, focusing on
posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). PTSD is explored in depth, applying the
insights from this book to better understand the condition and its treatment,
along with related disorders such as GAD. My own experience with GAD has
provided a firsthand perspective on these mechanisms. In fact, it demonstrates
that PTSD and GAD share many similarities, both as evolved survival mechanisms
and in terms of their treatment.
A
Broader Audience
While
this book began as an exploration for those involved in Fight
Activities—martial artists, self-defence practitioners, law enforcement, and
military personnel—it has grown to encompass a wider audience. The principles
discussed have far-reaching applications, touching on how we all navigate fear,
anxiety, and survival in both extreme and everyday situations. Whether
confronting life’s unexpected challenges or simply standing up to talk in a
meeting, this book offers valuable insights into mastering fear and emerging
stronger. Ultimately, Fear and Fight is for anyone who faces anxiety
and/or fear—whether in combat or in daily life—and seeks to gain a deeper
understanding of both the natural and learned responses that guide us through
these experiences.