You have seen such circumstances; you know, the kind of instance that begets the carpenter’s admonition “Measure twice; cut once.” Probably one of the most famous instances of such “cutting” without getting the facts straight is the charge through the “Valley of Death” by 673 English cavalrymen of the Light Brigade during the battle of Balaclava (Ukrainian Балаклава; town for which the knitted ski mask is named) during the Crimean War. The charge became almost instantly famous (or infamous) thanks to the telegraph and to a poem by Tennyson.
Two rival brothers-in-law, the Earl of Lucan and the Earl of Cardigan (for whom the sweater is named), had long been at odds, and both were cavalry officers. During the campaign against the Russians, Cardigan was in charge of the Light Brigade under the command of Lucan. Lucan commanded both the “heavies” and the lightly armed—and swift—light cavalry brigade. Superior to both was First Baron Raglan who issued the order to retake guns and the redoubt captured by the Russians on an adjacent highland.
Raglan’s position during the battle was from a highland west of the North and South Valleys. Raglan sent Captain Louis Nolan to tell Lucan to recapture the guns lost to the Russians, but Lucan could not, from his position, see any such lost weapons. So, when Nolan said he must attack, Lucan asked, “Attack what? What guns, sir?” Nolan waved imprecisely toward what was to become known as the “Valley of Death,” and not toward the redoubts on the adjacent hill where Raglan had meant for them to attack.
Lucan and Cardigan allowed their dislike of each other to influence their field decisions. They also blindly followed an order they misunderstood. The Russians had men and artillery positioned along the sides and at the opposite end of the valley. Cardigan, never known as particularly bright, could see that the Russians had lined the sides and opposite end of the valley with artillery and riflemen, so he questioned the order. Lucan, however, told his brother-in-law, “We have no choice but to obey.”
Mentally map this. Put yourself in this position. You don’t have exact knowledge of the task; you see potential folly in the task as stated, and you have to obey someone you don’t trust that gives an order with potentially dire consequences. The consequences of that reckless charge? One hundred ten cavalrymen were killed, 129 were wounded, and 32 were captured.
Let’s hope you never have to face confusion that threatens lives. But what of those daily circumstances when you don’t have exact knowledge, you see possible folly in pursuing a course of action, and you can’t trust the prudence of those who present limited options? When in doubt, doubt. Measure twice before cutting. Cardigan did measure twice, but he allowed his brother-in-law to dictate a foregone conclusion to cut without looking at that “second measure.”
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating inaction because of doubt. You don’t have to measure an indefinite number of times, but if that second measure conflicts with the first, then one more check might save you (and possibly others) some grief.
Two rival brothers-in-law, the Earl of Lucan and the Earl of Cardigan (for whom the sweater is named), had long been at odds, and both were cavalry officers. During the campaign against the Russians, Cardigan was in charge of the Light Brigade under the command of Lucan. Lucan commanded both the “heavies” and the lightly armed—and swift—light cavalry brigade. Superior to both was First Baron Raglan who issued the order to retake guns and the redoubt captured by the Russians on an adjacent highland.
Raglan’s position during the battle was from a highland west of the North and South Valleys. Raglan sent Captain Louis Nolan to tell Lucan to recapture the guns lost to the Russians, but Lucan could not, from his position, see any such lost weapons. So, when Nolan said he must attack, Lucan asked, “Attack what? What guns, sir?” Nolan waved imprecisely toward what was to become known as the “Valley of Death,” and not toward the redoubts on the adjacent hill where Raglan had meant for them to attack.
Lucan and Cardigan allowed their dislike of each other to influence their field decisions. They also blindly followed an order they misunderstood. The Russians had men and artillery positioned along the sides and at the opposite end of the valley. Cardigan, never known as particularly bright, could see that the Russians had lined the sides and opposite end of the valley with artillery and riflemen, so he questioned the order. Lucan, however, told his brother-in-law, “We have no choice but to obey.”
Mentally map this. Put yourself in this position. You don’t have exact knowledge of the task; you see potential folly in the task as stated, and you have to obey someone you don’t trust that gives an order with potentially dire consequences. The consequences of that reckless charge? One hundred ten cavalrymen were killed, 129 were wounded, and 32 were captured.
Let’s hope you never have to face confusion that threatens lives. But what of those daily circumstances when you don’t have exact knowledge, you see possible folly in pursuing a course of action, and you can’t trust the prudence of those who present limited options? When in doubt, doubt. Measure twice before cutting. Cardigan did measure twice, but he allowed his brother-in-law to dictate a foregone conclusion to cut without looking at that “second measure.”
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not advocating inaction because of doubt. You don’t have to measure an indefinite number of times, but if that second measure conflicts with the first, then one more check might save you (and possibly others) some grief.
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