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So, just how dangerous is the life of a spy?
To answer that question, I refer you to one of my favorite books. Written by a Chinese general named Sun Tzu, the book is The Art of War. It is 2,500 years old — and yet still read by military officers engaged in the business of warfare, and even by business executives engaged in the warfare of business. Smart spies know the book for its last chapter, entitled with the utmost in sensibility, “The Use of Spies.”
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Sun Tzu, author of The Art of War.
And a very demanding boss.
According to Sun Tzu:
“[W]hat enables the wise sovereign and the good general to strike and conquer, and to achieve things beyond the reach of ordinary men, is foreknowledge. Now this foreknowledge cannot be elicited from ghostly spirits, it cannot be obtained inductively from experience, nor by any deductive calculation. Knowledge of the enemy’s dispositions can only be obtained from other men [or from sneaky women — RD.] … This being so, to remain in ignorance of the enemy’s condition simply because one begrudges the outlay of 100 ounces of silver [to pay off a spy] is the height of inhumanity.”
Yes, that is a good point. Who says bribery is immoral? To me, Sun Tzu sounds like a pretty nice guy.
“In the art of war, the best thing is to capture the enemy’s country whole and intact. To shatter and destroy it is not so good… Regard your own soldiers as your children [and then] throw them into positions where there is no escape and they will prefer death to flight… Officers and men alike will put forth their utmost effort.”
Ouch.
Because there is no escape, they will put forth their utmost effort? Maybe Sun wasn’t so nice, after all.
But he was certainly interesting — and in his own way, wise.
One of the wisest things Sun knew is that the Chinese Emperor, descended from a long line of exceptional minds, is frequently an ignorant schmuck.
Being the Emperor of China can produce an ego even larger than China.
All too often, therefore, the Emperor might say something like, “That neighboring ruler pissed me off! So I’ll show him! Go attack him right now! RIGHT NOW! GO THIS VERY INSTANT!”
Sun Tzu had a reply already in mind. And it wasn’t something the average employee tells the Boss. Especially a Boss armed with dungeons and busy executioners.
“No ruler should put troops into the field merely to gratify his own spleen. And no general should fight a battle simply out of pique. For, in time, anger may change to gladness; vexation may give way to contentment. But a kingdom once destroyed cannot be restored. Nor can the dead be brought back to life.”
Good advice. Albeit, this advice could render history awfully dull. (Even more dull than it already is. Beware of what you wish for.)

The perfect size for a spy.
But I digress. Let us return to spies.
Sun Tzu advised, “Be subtle! Be subtle! And use your spies for every kind of business!”
He then warned:
“You cannot employ spies usefully without a certain intuitive sagacity. For without subtle ingenuity of mind, you cannot make certain of the truth of their reports.”
“Excuse me, Lai-UR, but in your report, you said the enemy has 15,000 warriors hiding behind that forest. But what you call a forest, I call a dozen trees. Why is that?”
“Semantics.”
“Uh huh. A dozen trees, concealing 15,000 warriors? How is that possible?”
“Skinny soldiers.”
But I digress. Just how dangerous is being a spy?
Well, I ought to tell you that Sun Tzu imposed a brutal discipline upon his own soldiers and likewise upon his own spies. The following excerpt is a relatively clean example:
“If a secret piece of news is divulged by a spy before the time is ripe, he must be put to death — along with the man to whom the secret was told.”
Ouch. Gossip columnists, beware.
And now, my dear reader, imagine that you are a spy — operating against Sun Tzu and his army.
And you get caught. (Gulp.)
Doubtless you know that the Chinese have a variety of very creative interrogation techniques.
You might call it torture. I suspect the Chinese interrogators called it something like “accelerated persuasion.”
Are you scared? Hoping to keep your head? Other extremities? Your internal organs?
Alas, hapless prisoner, abandon all hope. What Sun Tzu wrote in his book is acutely clear:
“The enemy’s spies must be sought out, tempted with bribes, led away, and comfortably housed. Thus they become converted spies and available for our service… It is essential that the converted spy be treated with the utmost liberality.”
Yes, you read that right. As a spy, you were a safer working against Sun Tzu than if you worked for Sun Tzu. The only catch was, if you got caught spying against Sun Tzu, he insisted on hiring you.
If you said no, you got executed.
If you said yes and then fouled up, you got executed.
If you divulged a secret before Sun thought the time was ripe, you got executed.
If you returned to your original boss and he discovered that you had turned traitor, you got executed.
But if your luck was very good, you got to travel home — indeed, alive, well, and quite a bit richer, thank you.
And on your way home, you probably got mugged.
Yeah…
Respectfully (because all my readers deserve respect),
Reginald Dipwipple
Secret Agent Extraordinaire
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Old soldiers never die. They just stand at rigid attention.