An Inflection Point for Information Operations Officers
In the 1990s, Andrew Grove introduced the phrase strategic inflection point to describe a decisive juncture in an organization’s life, when subtle yet cumulative shifts in the environment converge that demand transformation. Institutions must either adapt to these emerging realities or risk drifting toward irrelevance. The most capable of leaders accept the risks required to guide the organization toward renewal, while those who resist change often preside over stagnation and decline. Grove’s concept finds parallel in Carl von Clausewitz’s coup d’œil—that intuitive “glance” which cuts through the fog of war. For Clausewitz, “resolution, presence of mind, and the lessons of history” were indispensable for any commander striving for clarity amid the most difficult circumstances. Likewise, institutions at inflection points require this type of discernment.
The Problem
Today, the Army’s information dominance community stands at a strategic inflection point—a moment demanding a reexamination of how it defines the role for Information Operations (IO) officers. Since Field Manual 100-6’s publication in 1996, each doctrinal revision—including Army Doctrine Publication (ADP) 3-13, Information—has cast IO officers chiefly as “synchronizers” and “integrators” (S&I) of information capabilities and organizations, subordinated to the lethal arc of combat power while neglecting the non-lethal. The result, even after five iterations, is a doctrine still groping for coherence. As U.S. Army Colonel Sarah White observes:
The service has cycled and recycled through numerous attempts at doctrinal codification, and yet it seems to be in much the same place in 2023 [and I would argue 2025] as it was in the early 1990s: aware that the information revolution means something for warfare, yet unsure of what that something is, what it should be called, and what is the appropriate doctrinal response.
This essay contends that the Army should reconceive IO officers primarily as a unit’s chief military deception officer (CMDO)—responsible for deception at the core, while secondarily supporting lethal operations. Such a shift would restore military deception (MILDEC) to its rightful place as a significant combat power enabler in large-scale, joint, and multi-domain operations. It would also bring much-needed clarity as to what exactly the task and purpose of Army IO officers are.
Combat Power and Information’s Perceived Role in Warfare
For most of human history, warfare took place on battlefields defined by geography. With adequate intelligence, commanders could fix the enemy’s position, gauge his strength, and, by uniting speed, mobility, and firepower, bring him to decisive defeat. Strength was measured in “combat power” – “the total means of destructive, constructive, and informational capabilities that a military unit or formation can apply at a given time” to impose its will on the enemy. However, upon close examination, the Army’s present conception, though expedient, flattens the term’s historical depth. It implies that non-lethal effects developed alongside lethal ones and held equal weight—an assumption belied by history. Figure 1 is a more apt description of how the Army has historically viewed the role of information. Information appears not as a core element but as a supporting function subordinated to lethal operations, stripped of its independent strategic role.
Figure 1: ADP 6-0, Mission Command: Command and Control of Army Forces, July, 2019.
This conceptual lineage reaches back to the late 1960s, when Army leaders, enthralled by the promise of emerging information technologies, advanced the vision of an “electronic battlefield.” General Westmoreland, for instance, foresaw that advanced networks and communication sensors could secure U.S. forces a decisive edge, neutralizing adversaries without dependence on conventional fixed-target methods. He articulated this vision in these terms:
On the battlefield of the future…enemy forces will be located, tracked and targeted almost instantaneously through the use of datalinks, computer-assisted intelligence evaluation and automated fire-control. With first-round kill probabilities approaching certainty, and with surveillance devices that can continually track the enemy, the need for large forces to fix the opposition physically will be less important.
Moreover, he continued by stating that, “I see battlefields or combat areas that are under 24-hour real or near-real time surveillance of all types,” and “I see battlefields on which we can destroy anything we locate through instant communications and almost instantaneous application of highly lethal firepower.”
Westmoreland’s observations epitomize the Army’s prevailing mindset: information technologies are conceived chiefly as instruments to extend lethal effects within the physical domain—a narrow perspective that still casts its shadow over contemporary doctrinal thought. The Army’s AirLand Battle (ALB) doctrine of the 1980s extended Westmoreland’s vision, asserting that information and sensor technologies could yield “timely information about deep enemy” formations to enable “wide-ranging surveillance, target acquisition,” and battlefield awareness. Seeking to offset the Soviet Union’s numerical conventional force superiority through technological advantage, the Army embraced ALB as a novel form of warfare—one that harnessed information technology as a decisive instrument of operational power.
The Army’s shift from using information technologies merely to augment lethality toward creating dedicated information units first took shape in the Force XXI initiative of 1994—a formative recognition of information as an operational domain. Its Experimental Force (EXFOR), 1st Brigade, 4th Infantry Division, based at Fort Hood, tested digitized systems at the National Training Center, demonstrating how integrated networks and advanced communications could deliver real-time intelligence and sharpen command, control, and lethality. Drawing upon ALB principles, Force XXI sought to dominate the information environment by harnessing “the power of information and technology” and integrating “unprecedented battle command capabilities,” thereby creating a force “more lethal, more mobile, and more survivable.”
After Force XXI, the Army created the Land Information Warfare Activity and later the 1st Information Operations Command, its premier land-based IO unit. Since the mid-1990s, IO officers have served on headquarters staff at every echelon—brigade, division, corps, and even joint forces. Throughout, the Army has tended to regard information technologies, organizations, and its practitioners not as independent instruments of influence, but as auxiliaries to lethal combat power. This mindset has shaped subsequent doctrine, culminating in ADP 3-13 Information, which, though invoking “information advantages” as central to multidomain operations, remains anchored primarily to support lethal operations.
Combat Power: Lethal and Non-Lethal Arcs
These claims require a deeper grasp of the primary components of combat power. In concrete terms, combat power evolved along two fundamental arcs: the lethal, rooted in the physical domain, and the non-lethal, grounded in the informational and cognitive domains.
Figure 2: Elements of Lethal and Non-Lethal Combat Power
These two arcs are not antithetical but mutually integrative, evolving and interacting at varying rates and degrees. Though they represent distinct poles of development, they remain bound together by a constellation of Army military occupational specialties (MOS) and functional areas (FA), each designed to generate or sustain combat power for the commander.
The lethal arc of combat power, first to evolve, centers on the exploitation of force in the physical domain: movement and maneuver, fires, protection, sustainment, intelligence—all directed by sound leadership. Paradoxically, although indispensable, its evolution has long relied on information technologies and, later, information organizations.
The non-lethal arc of combat power emerged later, centered on information technologies and organizations: information operations, cyber and electronic warfare, military information support operations, civil affairs, public affairs, and space. These seek to communicate, influence, and generate cognitive effects by informational means. The key takeaway – in no small part due to the information revolution of the late 20th century – is that these information organizations gave birth to the latent potential that is inherent in the Army’s existing information MOSs and FAs, which is that their primary effects are most profoundly displayed in the non-lethal domain rather than its lethal counterpart.
Bearing the above in mind, the belief that combat power is solely lethal is no longer tenable. It is an outdated paradigm entrenched in the Army’s doctrinal culture. The non-lethal arc of combat power has matured to the point that it no longer needs to subordinate itself to lethal operations. Advances in robotics, artificial intelligence and sensing, and information organizations have reshaped war’s character independent of the lethal arc. As former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General (Ret.) Mark Milley observed:
As these information technologies mature and their military applications become clearer, the impacts have the potential to revolutionize battlefields, unlike anything since the integration of machine guns, tanks, and aviation, which began the era of combined arms warfare.
To be sure, wars cannot be waged exclusively by non-lethal means. Yet it is equally misguided to relegate them to mere auxiliaries for lethal operations. And while today’s conception of combat power rightly includes information, it remains framed by assumptions dating back to the late 1930s, when the term first entered Army doctrine. Then, as now, information was viewed less as an independent force of strategic consequence than as a subsidiary, valued only for its utility to lethal operations. Such conceptual inertia blinds the Army to warfare’s shifting character—one increasingly defined not by destruction, but by influence, perception, and cognitive dominance.
The Army must regard non-lethal capabilities as an equal and complementary partner to the lethal arc of combat power. This requires acknowledging the distinct role of information MOSs and FAs, whose effects lie chiefly in the informational and cognitive domains. Breaking entrenched habits means institutionalizing non-lethal operations in training, exercises, and doctrine. For IO officers, it demands a reorientation: to serve as the synchronizing hub—principally for MILDEC—while integrating, for example, with maneuver as required. Without such a shift, IO officers will remain undervalued, condemned to repeat what is rather than advance what ought to be.
What is Military Deception in Reality?
Military deception (MILDEC) is the deliberate persuasion of an adversary to accept false information. Its purpose is to mislead hostile decision-makers—military, paramilitary, or irregular—into actions, or inaction, that serve friendly aims. At heart, it is the art of embedding convincing fiction within the enemy’s reality. MILDEC may distort the enemy’s perception through ambiguity, drain its resources, expose positions or capabilities, feign intentions, or orchestrate behaviors that advance operational design. Rooted in strategy, practiced in secrecy, and executed for effect, MILDEC is the calculated manipulation of perception in service of decisive information advantages.
The significance of MILDEC in warfare is undisputedly rich. From the earliest chronicles of war, deception has stood as a constant companion to victory—at times the decisive stroke that delivered success, at others the silent partner that enabled it. Examples abound, but the following stand out as particularly notable.
- 1943- Operation Mincemeat: The British employed deception operations to disguise the Allied Forces ‘ invasions of Sicily.
- 1944- Operation Fortitude South: Allied forces crafted an extensive deception operation designed to convince Germany that the invasion would occur at Pas de Calais, while the actual assault was planned for Normandy.
- 1968- Tet Offensive: North Vietnam employed deception to convince U.S. and South Vietnamese forces to expect limited rural attacks, while concealing their broader plans to conduct nationwide urban military operations.
- 1990- Desert Storm “Left Hook”: Coalition forces employed deception to fix the attention of senior Iraqi generals and Saddam Hussein on the Marine Corps amphibious assault unfolding along Kuwait’s borders, while simultaneously concealing their main conventional ground offensive. This main effort ultimately swept westward through the desert, outflanking Saddam’s army.
- 2023- Hamas deceived Israel by projecting a reluctance for direct conflict, cultivating an image of a war-weary adversary, all while secretly preparing for a large-scale assault.
- 2024- Israel executed deception against Hezbollah’s leaders using rigged pagers and walkie-talkies with explosives disguised as communication devices.
- 2025- Operation “Spider Web”: Ukraine infiltrated more than 100 drones deep into Russian territory to destroy their numerous nuclear-capable long-range bombers.
These examples yield several reflections on the nature of deception common to successful cases. First, deception targets adversarial decision-maker(s). As Walter Jajko, a statesman and military strategist, observed: “the decisive battlespace is the adversarial decisionmaker’s mind”. For example, Fortitude South’s primary target, Hitler; Operation Desert Storm, Hussein, and senior military commanders; October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, Israeli Senior commanders, and potentially the Prime Minister himself. MILDEC, therefore, seeks to manipulate awareness, understanding, judgment, or perception to advance the commander’s objective. The goal of MILDEC is to influence the enemy decision-makers’ six inches of gray matter—compelling them to act, or refrain, in ways that align with friendly operational design. Second, because deception is psychological, information advantage activities that neglect the enemy’s mind rarely yield decisive victory. Just as maneuver forces are employed against enemy formations, so too must the commander employ his CMDO to target the adversary’s mind. Who today in the Army commits themselves full-time to mastering this art? Very few.
Recommendations for the IO Community
Start with the obvious: no branch or functional area is better suited to study, train, and execute MILDEC than IO officers. If the Army insists IO officers are in the business of “influence,” it should admit that, in military terms, influence chiefly means deception. While ADP 3-13, Information, acknowledges that every action exerts some form of “influence,” this broad logic dilutes the IO officer’s purpose, stretching the role of information to the point of absurdity. IO officers require focus, and that focus should be MILDEC.
Second, history offers ample evidence that MILDEC should not be reduced to a mere Army additional skill identifier. MILDEC is a discipline demanding mastery of how people think—their habits, weaknesses, predispositions. It is a science of the mind. It requires full-time specialists trained not only in modern tools of deception but also grounded in theory, history, and practice. Here, IO officers should find purpose. Yet too often, they are stretched across civil affairs, cyber, space, psychological operations, and other information domains already manned with subject-matter experts. The result is one of redundancy, confusion, and dilution of effort. Meanwhile, MILDEC languishes without a dedicated training pipeline or sufficient resources.
Third, IO practitioners’ enduring reliance on S&I to support lethal operations reveals something more fundamental: they are a natural fit for MILDEC. MILDEC thrives on coordination—across domains, disciplines, and organizations. IO officers accustomed to S&I influence activities in support of lethal operations are ideal for this task.
Fourth, it is time to discard the imprecise title “IO officer” and replace it with what it should have been all along: “deception officer.” Since the term entered the Army’s lexicon in the early 1990s, the Army has wrestled with its meaning. The term lacks precision and is devoid of any real, meaningful specifics. Like a chameleon, the term has come to assume a purpose and function that has meant everything and nothing– defined not by consensus, but by what units believed the function of IO officers to be. Deception, by contrast, is plainspoken, with a lineage as old as war itself. To call an officer a “deception officer” is to define his purpose clearly on a unit’s staff—a clarity long overdue.
Fifth, the Army must undertake a comprehensive review across doctrine, organization, training, materiel, leadership and education, personnel, facilities, and policy to assess CMDO requirements of multi-domain operations above brigade level. This analysis must tackle today’s chaotic information ecosystem, the corrosive impact of social media on readiness, unclear legal authorities for employing deception, and the necessity for partnering with academia and industry on emerging capabilities. Amid pervasive misinformation, disinformation, and propaganda, full-time MILDEC practitioners are essential to mission success.
Sixth, the IO schoolhouse must overhaul its curriculum—elevating MILDEC and operations security as the profession’s core pillars. Deception officers should also train in special technical operations, special access programs, and the legal authorities that govern them. The schoolhouse should further propose to the Command and General Staff College an intensive information-centric planning course, modeled after the School of Advanced Military Studies (or SAMS), to cultivate rigorous thinking. Information professionals, such as public affairs, psychological operations, cyber, and electronic warfare, would benefit from a systematic study of operational art in applying information power to combat power. Their education should finally reflect that imperative.
Finally, non-lethal boards and bureaus should focus chiefly on supporting deception. Their primary duty must be the orchestration of MILDEC plans, with maneuver support secondary. This is neither a slight to lethal combat power nor an effort to elevate the non-lethal above it. Rather, it reflects a shift in modern war: generating combat power now spans the informational as much as the physical. In doing so, it not only adapts but maximizes the reach and effectiveness of its informational arsenal, leveraging organizations built to influence.
Conclusion
The problem facing the Army’s IO community is not whether it should support lethal combat power—it already does. Nor whether MILDEC deserves status as a distinct full-time specialty—it should. The problem lies deeper: an entrenched belief that IO officers exist chiefly to serve lethal operations. This orthodoxy reflects the historical pattern of aligning innovation with firepower and relegating information, ironically, to secondary status in the very battles it is meant to shape. This has produced several consequences. First, it left IO officers uncertain of their value to the commander and staff. Second, it rendered the information domain abstract—vague in definition and vulnerable to varied interpretations—resulting in confusion over its precise role in warfare. Finally, the effectiveness of IO was frequently perceived as a derivative, valued mainly for its utility in enabling or supporting lethal operations, rather than as a capability with intrinsic operational merit. Fundamentally, it generated a false certainty of prioritizing non-lethal operations when it was not.
This persistent approach has produced a contradiction that the IO community has inherited and cannot seem to escape. It may be framed as a single pointed question: What unique skills do IO officers possess—skills not found among experienced officers in other information organizations, such as cyber, military information support to operations, space, and electronic warfare—that justify the millions of dollars invested to sustain the profession? From brigade to division to theater to joint, information chiefs have consistently come from other information MOSs or FAs who have nonetheless executed information activities of extraordinary complexity in both war and peace. The result is a harsh reality: the distinctiveness of IO officers continues to fade. While every other Army information organization has a clearly defined principal task and purpose in doctrine—and still manages to perform S&I functions—IO remains doctrinally ambiguous, undermining its perceived value and institutional relevance. The solution is long overdue: IO officers should assume their rightful role as MILDEC officers. This is the IO community’s subtle yet critical inflection point.
(Disclaimer: This article presents a distilled version of a broader forthcoming study, “An Inflection Point for Information Operations Officers,” currently under review with the Journal of Information Warfare. The original manuscript was composed during the author’s tenure as an Army Fellow at the RAND Corporation, 2024–2025. It is offered in tribute to the FORSCOM G-39 team (2021–2023), whose incisive dialogue and critical engagement shaped much of the thinking herein. The views and interpretations expressed are solely those of the author and do not reflect the official positions of the Department of the Army, the Department of Defense, or the United States Government.)
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