Competitions, Culture, and the Warrior Ethos:
Why We Train to Fight
This article was written for West Point Cadets enrolled in mandatory Combatives Training that involves, among other tasks, competitive grappling and limited MMA bouts for grades.
"your mission remains fixed, determined, inviolable. It is to win our wars."
- GEN Douglas MacArthur, Farewell Address to the Corps of Cadets, 1962
The profession of arms is about war, and war is the ultimate test of human will, resilience, and leadership. It is not enough to be technically competent; warriors must be forged to lead others in the face of chaos and violence. That forge is made up of the things we ask of them, and of ourselves.
At first glance, competitions in Combatives training may seem like just another test or physical challenge, but they serve a far deeper purpose. With midterms approaching, I want to explain not just why we use competitions, but how they reflect and shape our values, both as individuals and as an organization. This discussion is not merely about performance; it’s about culture, character, and the warrior ethos. And mostly, it is about values-based leadership.
What Are Values?
Values are not found on lists, posted on a wall, or slogans printed in a handbook. Those lists are aspirational. They reflect what an organization hopes its members will value, but they are not proof of what is actually valued. Our values are the things we actually place value on. They’re revealed not in what we say, but in our actions, by what we do, pay attention to, reward, and remember (Schwartz, 2012).
If you want to know what a group truly values, watch how they act. For instance, in some units, everyone knows who the fastest runner is. But who’s the best shooter? The best fighter? If no one knows, it’s because those abilities aren’t truly valued, regardless of what’s claimed.
A Cautionary Tale: The 507th Maintenance Company Ambush
During the opening days of the Iraq War in 2003, a portion of the 507th Maintenance Unit recently deployed from Fort Bliss, Texas, got separated from their convoy near Nasiriyah. Lost, lightly armed, and lacking combat awareness, the unit was ambushed. Eleven soldiers were killed, several were captured, including PFC Jessica Lynch, and the nation took notice. Within the Army, this became more than just a tragic event. It was a wake-up call.
A thorough After-Action Review exposed systemic failure, not just of logistics or leadership, but of culture. Every weapon organic to the unit failed during that fight. But the failure wasn’t only mechanical and tactical. No one had prepared these soldiers for combat. They had been told they were maintainers, not warriors. And they believed it. That illusion proved deadly (Garamone, 2003).
Lynch later reflected in interviews that throughout her basic training, AIT, and deployment, not one leader told her she might have to fight. In fact, she was told the opposite: "We're a maintenance unit. Other people do the fighting." The assumption that some roles in the military are "non-combat" was shattered that day.
The Soldier’s Creed: A Cultural Correction
In response to the 507th ambush, the Army didn’t just tweak training, it made an attempt to fundamentally change its culture. Senior leaders recognized that without a shared warrior mindset, support units would always be at risk. In 2003, the Army established the Warrior Ethos Task Force, and by 2004, and among other changes, a new Soldier’s Creed was introduced.
Of all the lines in the Creed, the one that cuts deepest, the one that captures what it truly means to be a warrior, is this:
“I stand ready to deploy, engage, and destroy the enemies of the United States of America in close combat.”
That is not a metaphor. It is not a slogan. It is a statement of lethal intent. It names the mission plainly: deploy, engage, destroy. It affirms that every soldier, whether infantry, intelligence, or mechanic, must stand prepared for the harshest, most personal reality of warfare: close combat. That line is the backbone of the Creed. It is the part that should define us.
And yet, most people quote a different section, what’s commonly referred to as the “Warrior Ethos”:
“I am a warrior and a member of a team.
I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit.
I will never leave a fallen comrade.”
These lines are valuable, they speak to grit, perseverance, and loyalty. But without the will to engage and destroy, those virtues are incomplete. You can be determined, team-oriented, and selfless, and still unprepared for the reality of killing at close range. A warrior who cannot fight is just a well-meaning target.
I was asked by a couple of friends of mine, who were members of the committee writing the Soldier’s Creed, to assist with the effort. We told Army leadership at the time that if the Creed amounted to nothing more than something stamped on a dog tag or a set of platitudes to be memorized, it would fail at its purpose. It had to shape training. It had to guide leadership. It had to be something a soldier could live by, not just recite.
Culture doesn’t change because of what’s written, it changes because of what’s expected, rehearsed, and enforced. The Soldier’s Creed wasn’t meant to decorate the walls. It was meant to prepare you for war.
Informal Competitions: The Hidden Culture-Shapers
Once, the Chief of Staff of the Army, the Sergeant Major of the Army, and their entourages visited the Army Combatives School while I was serving as the commandant. I asked, “Who’s the best runner here?” Everyone immediately pointed to the guy who’d just won the Marine Corps Marathon. Then I asked, “Who’s the best shot?” Silence. “Who’s the best fighter?” Again, silence.
The point wasn’t necessarily obvious: they valued running, after all everyone knew who was good at it and who wasn’t, but did not value shooting or fighting, no matter what they may have claimed. But why? The answer is because they all did it together. Running was a shared, visible experience across the formation. Marksmanship and fighting, on the other hand, weren’t practiced collectively, so they didn’t rise to the same level of attention or esteem.
In that unit, just like in almost every other unit, most morning PT sessions, at some point included the commands: "Attention! Right Face! Forward March! Double Time!", and the unit starts off on a run. At some point, someone begins to fall out. What does everyone in that formation think about the person falling out? That is a rhetorical question to anyone who has ever been in that formation. We all know. That person is publicly humiliating themselves. They are not just falling out, they are showing everyone in their unit that they are the weakest link. It turns out that the unit run is more than just PT. It is a social event. It is an informal competition.
Informal competitions are developmental opportunities embedded in daily life, where effort is visible, feedback is social, and standards are enforced by peers. They have three features that make them recognizable. The first is that everyone must take part. You can get out of the unit run once, or twice, but eventually you are going on a run with your unit. Second, there is the threat of public humiliation. There is no reason to sugar coat it. When you fall out of that run you are humiliating yourself. And third, there is also the promise of public accolades. Everyone can see who the best runners are. They are the ones calling cadence while keeping up a blistering pace. If two miles into a three-mile run the leader calls a release, they are the rabbits that take off ahead of everyone else. Everyone in the Army wishes they were one of those rabbits, even if they don’t want to do the PT it takes to be one, because being a good runner has a social payoff.
Humans are constantly judging one another. It’s part of how we navigate group life. Even the people who claim not to be non-judgmental are still judging the rest of us, on how judgmental we are. They’re just not introspective enough to realize it. Peer judgment is a powerful cultural force, and it’s especially influential when it comes to effort, courage, and resilience under pressure.
Think about when you qualify on your rifle. Most of the time, no one knows how you did, except you, your buddy who helped you finger whip your score, and the clerk who typed it in. Now imagine how it would be different if those scores were posted on the wall in your platoon area when you got back. Would you care more? Would you train more seriously? Would others start asking who the best shot in the platoon is?
That’s how informal competitions work. They emerge when we do something together, visibly and repeatedly, with performance on display. When a skill becomes socially recognized and regularly evaluated in front of others, it becomes part of the unit’s culture, something people care about, something people strive to excel at.
What we do together, especially what we do together that is hard, and where performance will vary, inevitably becomes a competition. And what we compete at, we come to value.
To get that same effect with fighting ability, we must get people fighting. It has to be something we do visibly, in front of each other, and often enough that it becomes part of our shared identity. That’s what makes it matter, and that’s what makes it real.
Building Warrior Values Through Fighting
When the Combatives program first emerged in the 2nd Ranger Battalion, it was a little more raw. Before the days of direct deposit, everyone would gather for payday activities. The battalion sergeant major would stand on a podium and randomly call out two Rangers, like two squad leaders, two platoon leaders, or two machine gunners from different companies. Those two had to run up front, and fight, right there in front of the entire battalion, in grappling matches very similar to what you are going to be doing in the midterm fights.
What that did was create a visible standard. Everyone knew they might get called out. The ones who had been talking trash about Combatives but not training got humiliated. One public loss, and either they got serious, or they disappeared from the leadership conversation.
Culture shifts fast when everyone knows they might be tested. But it doesn't have to be a large production like what I described in 2nd Battalion. You get the same effect every time you pair the members of your platoon up and have them grapple with each other live. The stakes are lower, but the visibility and accountability are the same, and so is the culture-building impact.
Now imagine what would happen to the culture in the Corps of Cadets if, every Friday, there were either fights or a spelling bee to determine which cadets got the weekend off. We all know what would happen. The entire Corps would become either the best fighters or the best spellers on the planet, because the competition would drive them. What we informally compete at with our peers will become valued. The effect of informal competitions is to spread competence across your formation. Especially in the case of Combatives, everyone must become both competent and tenacious in order to gain the respect of their peers.
Formal Competitions: Motivating Excellence
Formal competitions, read as “championships”, are different. They’re about excellence, not just competence. Ask yourself: when was the first time in human history that someone sat down and ate 50 hot dogs in one sitting? I would bet it was right after someone said, "Let's have a hot dog eating contest." The challenge created the effort. The competition created the standard.
Formal competitions provide individuals with a competitive nature; a clear direction in which to channel their pursuit of excellence. Consider a group of people who run daily simply because they enjoy it. Now imagine someone steps in and says, “I wonder who the fastest is. Let’s have a race.” We all know what would happen next: the competitive individuals in that group would begin training harder, not just for the love of running, but because they now have a goal. The introduction of a formal competition transforms casual effort into focused preparation.
Formal competitions are central to West Point. We hold championships in everything from robotics and combinatorics to boxing and wrestling. Why would an institution whose purpose is to produce warrior leaders of character for the Army place such emphasis on formal competitions? The answer lies in the nature of the Army itself. It is a vast and complex organization with a wide range of missions and highly varied needs. Formal competitions, especially those that individuals self-select into, help cultivate excellence across diverse domains. They allow cadets to pursue mastery in areas they are passionate about, and in doing so, develop into experts in fields that may prove critical to the Army’s ever changing mission profile.
The Downside
While we’ve been discussing the many benefits of competition, it’s important to acknowledge that it also has limitations. Once rules are imposed, competitors will inevitably train to win within those rules, rather than for the realities that exist outside the competition. Nowhere is this more evident than in fighting sports. For example, what is the defense in Judo to a jab? Or in wrestling to a rear naked choke? Or in boxing to a double-leg takedown? The answer is simple: there isn’t one, because these techniques are not part of the sports’ rules set. Judoka, wrestlers, and boxers are not training to win fights; they are training to win matches under the specific constraints of their sport. Since they don’t face these threats in competition, they don’t need to train to defend against them, and so they don’t.
That’s why, in Combatives, we constantly tweak the rules. If we see competitors gaming the system in ways that wouldn’t work in a real fight, we change the game. The goal is not here to make it more fun or more exciting for the crowd, it is to train to produce effective fighters.
Building a Warrior Culture
When I talk about the warrior ethos, I mean this: I want to know that you can shoot, move, fight, stop the bleeding, and carry me if I’m hit. You should expect the same from me. In a true warrior culture, we push each other toward excellence, not simply because we value competition, but because our lives depend on one another. Competitiveness is a tool for shaping culture, but getting our people to value winning and excellence isn’t enough. In the end, we succeed or fail together. When someone falls out of a run, they aren’t just publicly humiliating themselves, but they’re also signaling that they need leadership and comradeship. In a warrior culture, we don’t discard the weakest link. It’s our duty (to each other) to strengthen each other. The standard you hold your teammate to today, or help them achieve, might be the standard that saves someone’s life tomorrow.
This is not cruelty. It’s responsibility. A warrior culture doesn’t mean hazing or proving toughness by being toxic. It means building each other up so we’re ready together. Respect in a warrior culture isn’t granted by position, it’s earned through proven ability and the willingness to carry the burden of combat alongside your teammates.
Values as Competitive Advantages
The Army publishes a list of values. In truth, they are aspirational. These are the things we would like for soldiers to place value on, because if we do, we will be a stronger team. The Army Values, loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal courage, aren’t just abstract principles or words on a poster. If soldiers actually place value on these, our Army will be more disciplined, more cohesive, and more capable in combat. It is up to the leaders in the Army to ensure that the daily life of our soldiers reinforces these values. They matter not because they are written in doctrine, but because they work in practice, especially under pressure. Soldiers who embody these values build trust, cohesion, and resilience. Integrity and honor foster high-trust teams. Loyalty and duty ensure commitment to mission and each other. Personal courage is what turns fear into decisive action.
Feudal knights had to prove themselves to be warriors to gain land and prestige. They did it in tournaments or the joust, then in local wars and expeditions, increasing levels of responsibility. Today, your proving ground is PT, marksmanship, combatives, leadership, and competence. If our profession is on the right track, to rise in it, you must prove yourself in the areas our warrior culture values.
Shaping Belief Through Shared Meaning
People’s deeply held values and beliefs are shaped over time through three main vectors of influence. The first is vertical transmission, the meaning passed down from parents and grandparents. This transmission happens mostly through the example they set. It also represents the values we are most likely to pass on to our own children, even if they aren’t always the same values we follow in adolescence or early adulthood. As Mark Twain once wrote, "When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years" (Twain, 1935). It includes the foundational lessons and moral frameworks instilled in early life.
The second is oblique transmission, the influence of other adults in a person's environment: teachers, coaches, mentors, senior leaders. This is the role you, as future commanders in the Army, will fill. Oblique transmission is about shaping values through example, guidance, and institutional culture. These figures help reinforce, refine, and challenge the beliefs we inherit. But the third, and often most powerful, is horizontal transmission, the meaning we negotiate and internalize among our peers. You may not have realized it, but you are in constant negotiation with the others in your peer group over almost every aspect of your value system: how you will treat each other, what is acceptable, what is respected, and what is rewarded. These shared understandings are forged through daily interaction, informal competition, and the expectations established within your group.
This is where your roll as an oblique influencer comes in. You may not have realized it but, the entire 47-month experience as a cadet at West Point is metaphorically like that run we spoke about earlier. Every formation, physics or chemistry class, boxing, military movement, class ranking, branch assignment, summer training, and yes, Combatives, has been deliberately crafted by those who came before you. The purpose is to structure the negotiations within your peer group in a way that inculcates the values that will make you warrior leaders of character. As a values-based leader, you craft just such an environment for the members of your organization.
The way your subordinates treat success and failure, the stories they tell, the performances they remember, all are products of the experience you create for them, all of this contributes to what gets valued. Your Soldiers will value toughness, skill, and readiness, if you build an environment where those are on display and are rewarded. That’s why informal competitions matter so much: they become the primary arena where horizontal values are formed.
As we head into midterms, understand this: when you fight, you’re not just demonstrating technique. You’re revealing your character, tenacity, judgment, grit, and your commitment to those around you. That’s why we do this.
Be the kind of person others want beside them in the breach. That is the warrior ethos.
Conclusion
This is the heart of values-based leadership: deliberately designing experiences to shape character and reinforce the values that make teams strong and individuals worthy of trust. Effective leaders shape culture by intentionally structuring experiences that develop the character and competence of those they lead, enforcing standards, and setting expectations in ways that ensure the right things are valued. They make it clear, through what is expected, what is respected, and what is rewarded, that values aren’t just words. This is the same principle at work in both informal and formal competitions. Whether it’s a morning run, a live sparring session, or a brigade-level tournament, those shared experiences teach everyone in the unit what truly matters. When excellence is rewarded and mediocrity isn’t hidden, values are internalized. Leadership, then, is about shaping those competitive environments to reinforce the right behaviors. They’re the foundation of our readiness.
Ask yourself:
— Will the members of my unit trust each other when everything is on the line?
· Do they remain composed and decisive under pressure?
· Can they endure, adapt, and lead when others falter?
Those are the qualities we are building. And because we see them, demand them, and reward them, they become the values our culture upholds.
You are not just here to learn tactics. You are here to grow, physically, mentally, and morally, into warrior leaders of character. The system around you was built for that purpose. Every hard day, every standard, every competition you face is part of your transformation. In the end, you won’t just lead because of your rank. You will lead because of who you’ve become.
What you show us on the mat, under pressure, when it counts, that’s what your peers will remember. And that’s what defines your place in our warrior culture.
References
Buss, D. M. (2005). *The murderer next door: Why the mind is designed to kill*. Penguin.
Cialdini, R. B. (2009). *Influence: Science and practice* (5th ed.). Pearson Education.
Garamone, J. (2003). Army examines lessons from ambush of maintenance unit. American Forces Press Service.
MacArthur, D. (1962). *Farewell Address to the Corps of Cadets*. United States Military Academy at West Point.
Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2000). Intrinsic and extrinsic motivations: Classic definitions and new directions. *Contemporary Educational Psychology, 25*(1), 54–67.
Schwartz, S. H. (2012). An overview of the Schwartz theory of basic values. *Online Readings in Psychology and Culture, 2*(1).
Twain, M. (1935). *The wit and wisdom of Mark Twain* (A. P. Wilson, Ed.). Harper & Brothers.
United States Military Academy. (n.d.). *West Point Leader Development System (WPLDS)*. U.S. Military Academy at West Point. https://www.westpoint.edu/academics/academic-departments/center-for-enhanced-performance/wplds
Great artical brother... Warriors are forged in the crucible of tough realistic training. Competition in fighting strengthens the warrior culture.