Answering the ‘Riddle of Steel;’ A Lesson for Leaders on the Power of the Will
Like many young Americans growing up in the 1990s, I was raised on the action films of the 1970s and 80s that my father enjoyed. These classics often featured stars like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis, and other actors who you might find today starring in the Expendables franchise of films. While campy at times and of questionable appropriateness for a child under ten, these films served to inspire and motivate in ways that may not be readily apparent. From the Rocky franchise I learned the value of determination, grit, and never giving up on my goals. These values would undoubtedly serve me well as an overweight teenager who was physically unprepared, yet still aspired, to attend West Point and succeed there. But no film has, in retrospect, been more influential in my personal development and professional outlook as a leader of soldiers than Conan the Barbarian. John Milius and Basil Poledouris’ 1982 film not only launched the worldwide film career of Arnold Schwarzenegger, but also instilled the lesson that has guided my leadership throughout my ten years of Army service. While I have attempted to pass on this lesson through limited officer professional development (OPD) sessions with my own lieutenants, I will attempt to articulate the deeper concept here to a wider audience so that some of you can perhaps benefit from the answers to ‘the Riddle of Steel’ as I understand them.
His father introduces us to the Riddle of Steel: Which is stronger and more trustworthy, flesh or steel?
After the film’s opening sequence in which Conan’s family forges the blade which will later have great significance to our discussion, Conan sits atop a mountain with his father. His father introduces us to the Riddle of Steel: Which is stronger and more trustworthy, flesh or steel? In the military we are often confronted with this very question, albeit from a different perspective. We live in a world of finite resources, the most finite of which is time. Do we invest our time, effort, and resources in the development of the flesh ‒ the physical training, higher education, tactical training‒ or in steel ‒improving equipment/technologies, training on that new equipment, training on the equipment we already have? Certainly, there is not time to do it all. Prior to then-Secretary of the Army Mark Esper’s initiatives to reduce the mandatory training burden on companies, troops, and batteries, it was estimated that in order to accomplish everything AR-350-1 mandated, it would take more training days than there are available in a given year. Prioritization is thus key to achieving an acceptable level of readiness.
Atop the mountain, Conan’s father explains to him that all men are fallible and that “no man in this world can you trust, but this, this you can trust,” referring to the aforementioned steel blade.
Atop the mountain, Conan’s father explains to him that all men are fallible and that “no man in this world can you trust, but this, this you can trust,” referring to the aforementioned steel blade. Later in the film, Conan is captured while attempting to exact his vengeance against the antagonist, Thulsa Doom, brilliantly depicted by James Earl Jones, for murdering his parents. Thulsa Doom gives his own perspective on the Riddle. He beckons one of his followers to jump off a cliff to her death and then tells Conan that this is power, the power over the flesh and power over people, asking “for what is steel next to the hand that wields it?’ In the next scene, Conan is then crucified on the Tree of Woe, where his body dies but he is revived thanks to the effort of his friends. Later in the battle against Thulsa Doom’s lieutenants, Conan uses a new sword to strike and break his father’s sword that was stolen years before when his parents were killed, ultimately defeating the opponent. Up until this point in the film, we have seen the failure of flesh and steel, of Conan’s body and of his father’s sword. But one factor remained constant and strong, ultimately leading to Conan’s victory: His drive and will to achieve retribution, the so-called “Gift of Fury” given to him when his village and parents were slain. It is this that allows him to finally achieve his goal. As several Conan fan pages describe it: “flesh grows old, steel becomes brittle, but the will is indomitable.”
As several Conan fan pages describe it: “flesh grows old, steel becomes brittle, but the will is indomitable.”
There are a number of anecdotes throughout military history where a numerically inferior force was able to defeat a larger force, or at least defy the odds and hold their ground longer than they should have, due to superior training, discipline, and weaponry. The famous 300 Spartans at Thermopylae, Marshal Davout at Auerstedt, and the British at Rorke’s Drift are a few that come to mind. But there are also instances where the larger, better equipped, and better trained force did not prevail. Our American Revolution is one such example. George Washington was not a great general and did not become the Father of our Country because he won many battles. Rather, he became great because he knew that more than winning, he simply had to not lose, to not give up. Likewise, “America’s Longest War”, currently still ongoing, goes on still because our Taliban enemies, while brutal and abhorrent in their tactics, abide by this principle. They do not need to defeat the world’s premier fighting force in open battle, they simply need to outlast our resolve to defeat them. When approximately 800 ISIS fighters routed an Iraqi division of 30,000 in the summer of 2014 en route to establishing their “caliphate” that would take several years to demolish, they didn’t do it because they were better trained or equipped. They did it because those Iraqi soldiers standing against them simply quit and fled rather than risk their lives in combat.
The last two examples are not meant to praise these peddlers of terror, but to show the danger inherent in a lack of resolve. And so, as we return to the challenge facing the unit commander on how to appropriate his or her time, I submit that all the training in the world, with the best technology and weaponry available to man, and the most fit soldiers matter for nothing if those soldiers do not possess the will and fortitude to use them when it matters most. We build that will with hard, physical, mentally challenging training that pushes soldiers beyond what they thought they were capable of. We build that resolve by praising and rewarding examples of it within our formations, highlighting the successes of our soldiers who simply refused to give up despite adversity. Adversity comes in many forms, both external and internal, yet each must be met with an iron will to be overcome. The examples given of high-intensity conflicts and battles against determined adversaries represent the extreme end of the scale of external adversity, but every day we face great challenges to our own resolve internally.
As a line troop commander, one of my new privates struggled within his own mind. He did not want to be a cavalry scout but chose that military occupational specialty because his recruiter told him his parents’ immigration status would disqualify him from the military intelligence field he wanted. He had contemplated suicide due to the depression he faced, increased by his isolation being a single soldier in Alaska away from his family. Gratefully, he refused to give in, and a month later he was responsible for our Troop’s victory in a force-on-force exercise due to his excellent work on an observation post, and we held him up to the Troop as a hero and the image of resilience. Shortly after taking command of the Headquarters Troop, I counseled a young Signal soldier who was on her last month of the Army Body Composition Program (ABCP). She had one month to lose what seemed like an insurmountable four percent of body fat or face separation from the Army. A month later I stood praising her for meeting that goal against the adversity of its own difficulty and personal issues within her life, and it was all because she refused to lose. Both of these incredible soldiers answered the Riddle of Steel and showed that their resolve would not be broken by themselves or their circumstances.
Just as steel is composed of iron tempered with carbon — which allows it to be hardened in the quench — an iron will, when tempered with discipline, yields a steel resolve with which we can face all challenges in life.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, I took up blacksmithing and metallurgy as a hobby, partly because I find it interesting as both an art and a science and partly inspired by the opening sequence of Conan. In this new hobby, I have found parallels between the work and effort it takes to transform raw metal objects into useful items and the work we must put into ourselves in order to withstand life’s challenges. Just as steel is composed of iron tempered with carbon — which allows it to be hardened in the quench — an iron will, when tempered with discipline, yields a steel resolve with which we can face all challenges in life. We must continually answer the Riddle of Steel, demonstrating that our will and resolve are capable of outlasting all that is thrown at us.
Brian Fiallo is an active duty Army Armor officer preparing to attend the Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.