I have a soft spot in my heart for bookstores. Before social media—and the internet—physical storefronts were the only opportunity one had to discover new potential favorite novels. There are fond memories of my mother and I, departing from our beloved main-street diner, walking three city blocks to the two-story, Waldenbooks encased in the middle of a strip mall. Before we could start our journey, however, we were obliged to embrace the restaurant owner before being allowed to leave the restaurant: why did Greeks give the best hugs and make the most delicious breakfast food? Passing morning joggers, babies in strollers, and dogs of various sizes, I would ponder how a seemingly generic corporate chain could retain its own sense of uniqueness and wonder. I would peruse the aisles for what seemed like hours, gazing on title upon title (mostly military history, sport, and humor titles, classic teenage boy fare) with equal parts precision and aloofness. If I was lucky enough my mom would buy one or two books for me, depending on her budget, and my current temperament. I do the same thing to this day, albeit mostly alone, relegated to the few brick and mortar bookstores that still operate in today’s digital world. It was during one of these trips that I discovered the book, “The Art of Business Wars.” I can remember the shape and feel of the bookstore itself, and the business-book bent focus I had on this day, but not much else. I was leafing through histories of General Electric and McKinsey when I found David Brown’s book. After a quick scan on Amazon to look at the hardcover price and peruse some reviews, I added the book to my que (which is constantly shifting and changing, although it typically reflects one overall theme or issue I’ve chosen to tackle at that point in time).
I love books on business—who wouldn’t? They cover an assorted web of disjointed cultural puzzle pieces that somehow all fit together: history, emotional intelligence, commerce, education, personality, innovation, resilience, anthropology, etc. Examining business case studies is a fantastic way to learn about the successes and failures of individuals, groups, and organizations and apply that wisdom to future endeavors (just ask any HBS graduate, they’ll tell you). I was immediately drawn to “The Art of Business Wars” not by the clever title but they depth and breadth of case studies encompassed in the book. It covers mostly American businesses from 1985 to the present, however there are several examples of businesses from other countries and time periods (Adidas, Zara—Ford, Kellogg, Wrigley, etc.). The author scaffolds various stories using the classic military stratagems of Sun Tzu’s, “The Art of War” (hence the title, “The Art of Business Wars,” bravo Mr. Brown…).
Let’s start with the good—luckily for you the reader, there is plenty: the strength of this book lies in the number, variation, and depth of each business case study. Each chapter, using inspiration from a specific Sun Tzu teaching, describes a stand-alone story, with the background, main players, rising actions, climax, and catharsis all written in extreme detail. A Harvard business case study, in comparison, well having the best intentions, will tell the reader (student) the bare minimum amount of information to create a baseline on which to generate a business problem. The goal is to get to the culminating point quickly—less time spent on minute details, the majority of time allocated to analyzing and “solving” the issue at hand. “The Art of Business Wars” is not a case-study-sportscar designed to transport you from point A to point B as quickly as possible: it will guide you through each scenario calmly and methodologically, as though you are strolling through the countryside in the back of a Lincoln town car, taking in the views of the trees, wildlife, and skyline at your leisure. Because you are not driving, or rushing for that matter, you can see things otherwise hidden in normal existence: the heat of the sun at the car’s window at odds with the brisk morning dew, the resulting fog held prisoner in the draws of the winding landscape, a tired farmhouse sacred to man that has lived there for as long as he can remember. The author (and/or his research assistant) shines in his ability to create ornate biographies of the main players, sets, and companies portrayed in each story. However the writing cannot survive on history and detail alone: at times the plot composition and sequence left me bewildered, due to their poor connection to the source scaffolding (Art of War) or because of an abrupt ending (or lack thereof) that hit me like a Looney Tunes paint-on tunnel. One or two more drafts of this book, focusing on plot treatment and development, would have turned this pretty good book into a pretty great one.
I would liken the book to a beautiful 12th-century Gothic cathedral, adorned with beaming stained-glass windows—supported by a dilapidated, creaking, is-this-up-to-fire-code, wooden infrastructure. “The Art of War” was leveraged by the author loosely: aside from a brief introduction and a few quotes from the central text, “The Art of Business War” is held together by its own original framework. By the title and and cover design, I was sold into thinking that this book would contain stronger connections and reflections to the teachings of Sun Tzu. I was sorely mistaken. Here’s what I would have changed about the book:
-Add a rich biography of Sun Tzu and the time period in which he lived
-Describe the impetus for his writing of “The Art of War,” including how both East and Western military theory was affected by it, and how it continues to influence non-military thinking to this day
-List the full chapters of “The Art of War,” with a 2-3 sentence synopsis for each one
-Create a stronger tie to the source material in each chapter.
It’s not all David Brown’s fault. Many of Sun Tzu’s strategies aren’t easily transferable to modern warfare, let alone business. Additionally, tactical verbs like “positioning” can be twisted and contorted by an author to tell just about any story that he or she desires. Still, I believe that these additions would have resonated strongly with a reader, including a former assistant professor of tactics and warfare like myself (I may be biased due to the Marine Corp’s homage to tacticians like Sun Tzu, but the treatment of him given by the author appears to be at the worst dishonoring a brilliant man and at the least lazy extrapolation).
Ultimately, I enjoyed the spectrum of business cases presented in “The Art of Business Wars” and would recommend it to anyone that enjoys business, psychology, or history books. Hearing about hard-nosed internal negotiations, startling product innovation, and the glory that can manifest from pure hard work was extremely entertaining. I found myself asking questions I would have never thought about if not for this book: what happened to the creator of Tupperware after he absconded with millions of dollars to Costa Rica? Is there still a raisin commodity mafia alive and well in California? Did the brothers who created Adidas and Puma ever find it in themselves to reconcile? If those questions perked your interest, you know what your next read might be.
Here is a tasting of some of the business battles and origin stories discussed in the book:
-Blockbuster vs. Netflix
-Anheuser Busch vs. Miller
-Bumble vs. Tinder
-iPhone vs. Blackberry
-Southwest Airlines vs… Everybody
-Barbie
-Patagonia