Introduction
The failure to communicate clearly isn’t always fatal—but occasionally, it nearly is.
Just recently, I was at my local gym. As usual, after a solid workout, I headed to the sauna. There’s an obvious sign at the door: “Must have towel in sauna.” This is a standard precautionary measure. No surprises.
But inside, a gym employee noticed a woman sitting without a towel. He politely asked her—several times—why she didn’t have one and whether she needed one. Her response? “9 o’clock.”
It was obvious she misunderstood the question. She likely meant she was leaving at 9am. Only when another gentleman explained—in a language only the two of them shared—that a towel was required, did she realize what was being asked.
Now, imagine if this query wasn’t about towels. What if she’d felt unwell? What if there was an emergency? If we can’t communicate about the small things, what happens when the stakes are high?
As someone who survived 1,800 consecutive days in combat—where silence could mean safety, but clarity meant survival—I’ve learned one lesson above all: communication is the most powerful weapon we have, not just on the battlefield, but in boardrooms, offices, and our daily lives.
A Legacy of Communication: Lessons from History
Let us begin where many stories of strategy begin—ancient Rome.
The phrase “I love treason but hate a traitor” is often attributed to Julius Caesar. Though not directly recorded, it encapsulates a truth Caesar understood better than most: betrayal is often seeded in misunderstanding.
His empire wasn’t built on weapons alone, but on the intelligent manipulation of tribal alliances, mistrust, and yes—language barriers.
Caesar’s strategy of division and conquest frequently relied on preventing tribes from uniting under a common cause.
He exploited linguistic differences—knowing that language is not just a tool of speech but a line of identity, culture, and power. If the Gauls couldn’t communicate across clans, they couldn’t organize a unified resistance. It wasn’t just about swords. It was about speech.
Centuries later, a more honourable use of language barriers turned into a pivotal moment in World War II. The U.S. military employed Navajo code talkers, whose complex, unwritten language formed an unbreakable code.
Even the most advanced enemy cryptographers couldn’t decipher it. Why? This is because language—real, cultural, human language—cannot be easily decoded without understanding the people who create and use it.
In both cases, language wasn’t just communication. It was strategy. It was defense. The outcome was crucial.
My Lessons in War: Communication First, Action Second
My own military training, both before and during the war, emphasized a fundamental principle: establishing communication from a high position.
This wasn’t simply about technology or radios. It was about ensuring we had a clear line of sight and understanding.
Before bullets flew, before decisions were made, before the enemy moved—we needed to talk. And we needed to listen.
There were times when miscommunication nearly cost lives. It wasn’t a case of cowardice or treachery, but rather a misinterpretation of an order.
Two soldiers from different parts of the same country used different slang, which led to miscommunication. An interpreter mistranslated a village elder’s plea. Misheard words are difficult to retract.
Even in the intelligence world, where I operated later, miscommunication was the deadliest virus. A single misplaced phrase in a diplomatic message could undo months of progress.
Clarity wasn’t a luxury. It was survival.
The Language Barrier at Work: Modern Battlefield of Misunderstanding
Now let’s move beyond the battlefield into another type of war: the modern workplace.
In today’s globalized world, multicultural workplaces reflect evolving economies, immigration, and global collaboration. But with diversity comes a new challenge—language barriers that frustrate productivity and erode psychological safety.
One Reddit user recently shared:
“I feel like I’m constantly misunderstood at work. I speak English, but not natively. My jokes fall flat. My emails sound cold. I’m doing the job, but I feel invisible.”
This isn’t a small problem. It’s systemic. In environments where communication is key—client services, project management, healthcare—even small linguistic gaps can lead to alienation, mistakes, and loss of trust.
Another expat wrote:
“It’s not just about speaking English. It’s about speaking their English. Understanding the cultural context is crucial. The idioms. I know the words—but not the code.”
In other words, it’s not just what you say; it’s how you’re understood. And if you’ve ever been left out of a joke or a decision because you didn’t “get the tone,” you’ve felt the sting of communication breakdown.
The Human Element: Why Communication Is the Real Battlefield
In my recent article, “Why Weapons Can’t Win Wars Without the Human Element,” I argued that, despite the sophistication of modern warfare, success still depends on human understanding.
A drone can strike. A missile can detonate. But only humans can understand nuance, emotion, and intention—the critical factors that decide whether a decision ends in diplomacy or destruction.
Language is the bridge between intention and impact. And whether you’re giving battlefield coordinates or feedback in a team meeting, misunderstanding creates more damage than any weapon.
This phenomenon applies not just to military operations or multinational companies, but to everyday life—marriages, friendships, and parenting. How often do we say something we think is clear, only to realize it landed the wrong way? How often do we argue not over facts but over the meaning behind the words?
We don’t need more noise. We need more clarity. More listening. We need to communicate in a more common language.
A Call to Action: Clarity Is a Discipline
What can we learn from Caesar, the Navajo Code Talkers, and our own daily missteps?
Speak to be understood, not just heard.
Use plain language. Confirm understanding. Choose clarity over cleverness.Know your audience.
Just because someone speaks your language doesn’t mean they share your cultural code.Create environments where people can ask for clarification—without shame.
In combat, hesitation can kill. In life, it can isolate.In multicultural teams, treat language diversity not as a barrier but as a training opportunity.
Celebrate it. Educate around it. Build communication bridges before building expectations.Never assume understanding. Always confirm it.
Repeat back. Summarize. Ask, “Does that make sense?”—and mean it.
In War and in Work, Clarity Wins
In the end, communication isn’t just a skill. It’s a leadership trait. It’s a survival mechanism. It’s a sign of respect.
Weapons may secure a battlefield. Strategies may win a campaign. But only clear communication can unite people—whether they wear a uniform, a suit, or just carry the weight of being misunderstood in a foreign land.
Speak clearly. Listen harder. Translate not just words but meaning.
Understanding each other is crucial for survival and victory in life’s battlegrounds.