Fear and Fight - Synopsis

 I'm about to finish Fear and Fight and submit it to agents for publication. This is my first attempt at a synopsis that will accompany the submission:

Fear and Fight: A New and Better Understanding of Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat is a ground-breaking, interdisciplinary exploration of how humans and other animals respond to danger. Bridging evolutionary psychology, neuroscience, trauma studies, and lived experience, this book challenges conventional views of fear and trauma—particularly those entrenched in diagnostic frameworks like the DSM.

Drawing on a rich mix of personal insight, empirical research, clinical theory, and cultural analysis, the book traces the development of our instinctive survival responses—such as freezing, fleeing, and fighting—and examines how these are shaped, amplified, or overridden by learning, context, and socialisation. From the role of the amygdala in fast fear reactions to the deliberate cultivation of courage and hope in warfare, Fear and Fight offers a clear, accessible, and emotionally resonant narrative of what happens to mind and body under threat.

The book explains why fear sometimes emerges after the danger has passed, and why some people feel nothing in the moment of trauma—drawing on military training, domestic violence, and civilian experiences to explore how both natural and learned responses influence psychological outcomes. It challenges gendered assumptions about submission, highlights the strategic use of emotion in military contexts, and critiques the evolution of PTSD diagnosis, including the removal of DSM-IV’s Criterion A2.

Structured across multiple parts—including foundational chapters on fear responses, emotion and cognition, diagnostic categories, and applied theories in war, self-defence, and survival—the book culminates in a compelling argument: that understanding threat responses requires both biological insight and cultural literacy. Whether dissecting cinematic depictions of trauma, military stress training protocols, or real-world encounters with violence, Fear and Fight equips readers with a new lens through which to understand themselves and others.

Ultimately, this book is not only about what we fear—but how we survive.

What do you think?

Introduction: Fear and Fight: A New and Better Understanding of Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat

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: Fear and Fight: A New and Better Understanding of Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat.

I shared the Preface to Fear and Fight in the previous post. In this post, I share the introduction:

Fear and Fight: A New and Better Understanding of Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat

CHAPTER 1

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.

Expanding Horizons: The Boundless Possibilities of Understanding Threat Responses

When I began exploring our natural and learned responses to threats, I had no idea just how far-reaching this journey would be. What started as an investigation into fight-or-flight and stress training for survival has grown into something much larger—a foundation that connects to multiple fields of study and areas of practical application.

As I near the completion of my book, Fear and Fight: Understanding Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat, I’m starting to see the extraordinary possibilities that extend from this work. It’s not just about understanding fear or teaching self-defence; it’s about addressing core questions that affect how we live, learn, train, heal, and adapt in the face of adversity.

The Key Premise: Natural and Learned Responses to Threats

At its core, my book explores the ways in which humans respond to threats, both instinctively and through learned behaviours. It delves into the evolutionary roots of survival mechanisms and how these responses can be shaped, trained, and even transformed.

The insights I’ve developed are rooted in diverse disciplines, including psychology, physiology, military and law enforcement training, neuroscience, and self-defence. Whether it’s understanding the appraisal process during a threat or using stress training to regulate emotions, these ideas are designed to bridge the gap between theory and real-world application.

The Ripple Effect: Applications Beyond the Book

As I’ve worked through the chapters, I’ve realised that this understanding of threat responses is just the beginning. The possibilities for applying these insights are endless:

1. Anxiety Disorders and Mental Health

The connections between threat appraisal, emotional regulation, and stress training offer a new lens for understanding and treating anxiety disorders. This includes conditions like generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), panic attacks, and PTSD.

2. Women’s Self-Defence

By addressing the myths surrounding women’s ability to fight and defend themselves, this work provides a framework for self-defence training that goes beyond the physical. It emphasises the mental and emotional aspects of fighting, countering harmful stereotypes and empowering individuals.

3. Tactical Decision-Making

Insights from military and law enforcement stress training highlight the importance of preparing for high-stakes situations. This could revolutionise not only martial arts but also other fields requiring split-second decisions under pressure.

4. Martial Arts Pedagogy

Many traditional martial arts systems focus primarily on physical techniques. By integrating mental and emotional training, we could create a more holistic approach to teaching and learning combat skills.

5. Neuroscience and the Survival Process

Exploring the neurological basis of fear, courage, and resilience opens doors to understanding the brain’s role in threat responses. This could inform both training techniques and therapeutic interventions.

6. Fear and Resilience in Children

How do children learn to face fear and build resilience? This question connects to education, parenting, and youth development, offering valuable insights into nurturing emotional strength from a young age.

7. PTSD Treatment and Evolutionary Insights

The evolutionary perspective on PTSD suggests that our responses to trauma are not simply maladaptive but rooted in survival mechanisms. This understanding could lead to innovative treatment approaches that align with our biological and psychological realities.

8. Societal Responses to Perceived Threats

On a larger scale, understanding how individuals and groups respond to threats—both real and perceived—has implications for public policy, social psychology, and community resilience.

Beyond the Present: Future Projects and Collaborations

These possibilities inspire me to think beyond my current book. Could I write a follow-up focusing solely on anxiety disorders? Or create a manual for martial arts instructors to integrate stress training into their teaching? What about exploring fear and resilience in children or addressing societal fear responses in an increasingly complex world?

The work I’ve done so far has shown me that the understanding of threat responses isn’t just a niche topic; it’s a universal one. It touches on how we face challenges, how we grow, and how we connect with others.

An Invitation to Join the Conversation

As I reflect on these possibilities, I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Do you see applications of this work in your own field or life? Are there areas I haven’t considered?

This is just the beginning of a much larger conversation. Let’s explore it together.

Combat-Related PTSD

I've been working on the chapter on PTSD in my Fear and Fight: A New and Better Understanding of Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat. Fascinating subject. In this post I will share some information about combat-related PTSD.

The first thing that needs to be understood about PTSD is that PTSD is a generic term and includes different types of PTSD. Different types of PTSD means different symptoms and different treatment.

Evolution and Posttraumatic Stress: Disorders of Vigilance and Defence by Chris Cantor is the first book to examine PTSD from an evolutionary perspective. Cantor argues that a confounding issue in the study of trauma is the blurring of boundaries between fear and loss-related phenomena. He suggests that the study of responses to extreme fear involves PTSD and that of loss involves depression: ‘PTSD might be more useful if it was restricted to the emotion fear; loss is adequately catered for by depression’

Cantor is comparing apples with oranges here. Fear is an emotion, loss is not. Appraisal theory has a stress appraisal being classified as either harm/loss, threat, or challenge. It is better to speak of threat-related and loss-related PTSD.

Cantor states that fear is the key emotion in (threat-related) PTSD. However, empirical evidence suggests that there is a unique relationship among PTSD, anger, and aggression, particularly in veterans. Why? Because warfighters are trained to cope with threats with anger and aggression. While a benign stimulus in PTSD is erroneously appraised as threat, the trained response of a warfighter/veteran to a threat is anger and aggression. That trained response is reinforced in combat when it is successfully employed to survive life-threats. (See Chemtob et al (1997) 'Anger regulation deficits in combat-related posttraumatic stress disorder' Journal of Traumatic Stress.)

Compare that to rape-related PTSD. In those cases, fear is the key emotion and the response is our natural or instinctive response to a threat rather than a learned/trained one.

There are many issues that arise from this conception of PTSD. For instance, Possis et al (2014) investigated driving difficulties among military veterans and the potential pathways that underlie risky driving behaviour. The risky driving behaviour pertains to driving behaviour in the relatively benign civilian environment upon return from deployment. Possis et al start off by explaining that military personnel deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan often develop mental health difficulties (e.g., PTSD), which may manifest as problematic driving behaviour: ‘Veterans may be more likely to engage in risky driving and to subsequently be involved in motor vehicle accidents and fatalities’ (2014, 633). Possis et al propose three mechanisms underlying driving difficulties in the population group under investigation: influence of fear, influence of anger and aggression, and influence of thrill seeking and sensation seeking.

When considering the influence of fear on driving difficulties among military veterans, Possis et al explain that,

Certain military experiences may make veterans more prone to fear-related driving difficulties. Military training itself may have an influence; the importance of ‘tactical awareness’ or being aware and able to react to danger immediately at all times is emphasised. Constantly being on guard and aware of potential threats might make an individual more apprehensive and anxious. In discussing his anxiety in dense traffic, the patient of one author (E.P.) commented that ‘my [military] training taught me it’s not safe to be boxed in. … individuals with significant driving anxiety are likely to make catastrophic predictions about driving situations (e.g., ‘trash on the side of the road could be an IED’) and are likely to attend to threat-related cues to the exclusion of other information. Additionally, these individuals are likely to engage in avoidance behaviour, such as steering clear of traffic or underpasses.’ (2014, 634-635)

The question here is, are the driving difficulties fear-related in combat-related PTSD or is it simply their training. The appraisal is in error, but does it produce a fear response? And what of a veterans training? They are trained to deal with fear and anxiety, e.g., stress exposure training (chapter 18 in Fear and Fight). Interestingly, a lot of therapy for PTSD is the same training provided to warfighters to better prepare them for operational deployment. Warfighters should already have a lot of the tools necessary to treat threat-related PTSD given they are the same tools they are taught to overcome fear and anxiety in order to fight.

The PTSD Story Part 2: WWI leading to Medical 203

PTSD was introduced as a diagnosis in the third edition of the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) published in 1980, however, the PTSD story starts with World War I and the U.S. Army's Medical 203.

When writing about the ‘darker side’ of military mental healthcare, Russell, Schaubel, and Figley (2018) explain how all major European armies witnessed unprecedented, some would say epidemic, numbers of psychiatric casualties during WWI. Hundreds of thousands of military officers and enlisted members were being discharged, sent home, and given disability pensions for afflictions like shell shock and traumatic neuroses. European governments and military departments, they explain, became increasingly alarmed by this epidemic of war psychiatric casualties that existentially endangered the military’s capacity to fight and win wars, as well as producing skyrocketing disability pension costs threatening to bankrupt economies. In response, military leaders were forced to solicit the services of mental health professionals whose discipline was still in its infancy at that time.

What developed from the mental health professionals involvement came to be known as ‘frontline psychiatry’ where psychiatric casualties are treated as close to combat areas as possible with the firm expectation that the troops will return quickly to duty. Russell, Schaubel, and Figley explain that a comprehensive review of the military’s frontline psychiatry policies demonstrates its unquestioning effectiveness in preventing psychiatric evacuations. Note the focus on psychiatric ‘evacuations.’ The focus of the program is on preventing psychiatric evacuations not long-term mental health, which is reflected in the motto of the U.S. Army Medical Corps, ‘conserve the fighting strength’ (Jones and Wessely 2003), or as Russell, Schaubel, and Figley put it, to ‘preserve the fighting force.’

This is my own cynical evaluation of this process (which is part of the abovementioned darker side of military mental healthcare). How could frontline psychiatry fail? A soldier suffering combat stress reactions is taken off the frontline thus removing the stressor. They are kept close enough to the front to be reminded of their comrades fighting at the front, aka receiving support from their comrades, and how they are letting them down. The soldier returns to combat where their condition was indeed transient and they once again engage in combat in an effective manner. No psychiatric casualty going home. The same soldiers' fighting abilities may be impaired because of a mental disorder associated with the stress of combat and they are wounded or killed in action. WIA or KIA, no psychiatric casualty going home. They may desert because of their mental condition caused by the stress of combat, in which case they are a deserter and not a psychiatric casualty going home. They may abuse alcohol and/or drugs as a means of coping with the symptoms of their mental condition brought on by the stress of combat, in which case they are disciplined and possibly dishonourably discharged for behavioural problems. No psychiatric casualty going home. How could frontline psychiatry fail? It is genius, not unlike Catch-22.

In order to avoid a repeat of the same psychiatric attrition and subsequent disability pension costs of WWI, the Second World War saw the large-scale involvement of American psychiatrists in the selection, processing, assessment, and treatment of American soldiers. They were, however, hampered in their efforts because they were utilising a system of classification that was developed primarily for the needs of public mental health hospitals (Statistical Manual for the Use of Institutions for the Insane). ‘Psychiatric nomenclature which was barely adequate for civilian psychiatry was totally inadequate for military psychiatry’ (Brill 1966, 229), so the U.S. Army went about developing their own classification system. That classification system was published in War Department Technical Bulletin, Medical 203 issued on 19 October 1945 and came to be known simply as Medical 203 (Med 203). 

Med 203 included a 'combat exhaustion' diagnosis which we will explore in the next post.

This exploration will also demonstrate how the mental health discipline/professionals/practice came to gain credibility and how it is based in war time practices.

The PTSD Story: Part 1

I am currently working on a chapter on PTSD in my book tentatively titled, Fear and Fight: Understanding Our Natural and Learned Responses to a Threat.

This chapter came about in the saw way this book came about. I was writing the conclusion and wanted a paragraph or two to explain how the new and better understanding about our natural and learned responses to a threat can help better understand PTSD and the treatment thereof. Research to provide that paragraph or two produced a great deal of information, so much so that a paragraph or two became a chapter in and of itself in my book.

The PTSD story is a fascinating story. It is a story that goes far beyond PTSD. It sheds light on the mental health discipline today and how it developed. It sheds light on the 'unholy alliance' between the mental health discipline and the military that poses dire consequences for military members and society as a whole. It sheds light on the 'unholy alliance' between the mental health discipline and many organisations. It sheds light on what is 'order' and how it becomes or is a 'disorder.' It is a fascinating story.

I will write a series of posts that discuss the PTSD story over the coming period of time, however, to start, what is PTSD?

There are a host of definitions of PTSD, however, the most accurate is:

PTSD is an initialism for ‘posttraumatic stress disorder’ which is a term that first appeared as an anxiety disorder in the third edition of the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (DSM).

Allow me to introduce you to the main characters in the PTSD story:

The APA is the main professional organisation of psychiatrists and trainee psychiatrists in the United States, and the largest psychiatric organisation in the world. The association publishes various journals and pamphlets, including the DSM. The DSM codifies psychiatric conditions and is used worldwide as a guide for diagnosing mental disorders. It is often referred to as ‘The Bible’ of psychiatry. The first edition of the DSM was published in 1952, and several new editions and revisions have since been released. PTSD was included in the third edition of the DSM published in 1980. The most recent edition of the DSM is the fifth edition, published in 2013, in which PTSD is classified as a trauma- and stressor-related disorder, a classification that is a major revision of how PTSD is conceptualised as we will see below. 

In the next post, we will commence the PTSD story not with the DSM but the US Army's Medical 203 which provided credibility and acceptance of the fledgling psychiatric and psychological discipline and laid the foundation for mental health practice as we know it.