Competitive Intelligence
When the balloon goes up
Forty years ago, when our children were not yet in Secondary, our evening meal sometimes included an unexpected guest. It was more than likely that Alan, ‘the Apple Man’, would turn up just when we were on ‘thin rations’ — a meal already stretched and now needing yet further sub-division. Alan was always welcome. He’d often found a shirt and tie to go with a jacket that didn’t smell too much of paraffin — and at first, he’d arrive with a few apples or an ancient half-empty box of chocolates. No one knew, or asked, what triggered his arrival but some unspoken need for company, warmth, or food was self-evident.
Chairs would be shuffled, cutlery re-laid, an extra plate found, and a tale would emerge. For Alan had a very full stock of stories acquired over a lifetime, starting in the First World War and then continuing through decades of service for Cable & Wireless. This is how I stumbled on the origin of the phrase ‘When the balloon goes up’. When he finally went home that evening, he stayed up late unable to sleep. I still treasure the pages delivered the next day detailing his account of wartime work with the Royal Observer Corp.
Gathering intelligence on the front line meant that an ‘observer’, sent up with the tethered balloon, hopefully just out of range of enemy shelling, could communicate with the ground crew via cable and morse code to direct the gunnery crews. When the balloon went up it was a sure sign that conflict was imminent. With luck, the ground crew would survive to reel the balloon back in — preferably at night — and Alan, our Observer, could take a break. By the time World War II came around, balloon technology had progressed to provide defence against low-flying bombers and yet again the balloons signalled that we were in for a noisy night.
Recent balloon headlines and other high-profile stories of spies in high places have revealed glimpses of more modern intelligence gathering. We rarely hear of success — threats narrowly avoided or countered — but, despite the secrecy, the lid is occasionally lifted when intelligence failures are identified in the aftermath of disasters — and much muttering/outrage ensues even five years after the balloon went up.
Drone technology has moved way beyond simple video capture. Infra-red surveillance cameras can now pinpoint hotspots of human activity and the casual observer might assume that the entire intelligence field is the preserve of police or military minds and their forensic friends. But we’d be wrong. Information warfare is all around us and sustains the respectable business careers of many. They may not describe their roles as spies or agents, they may not declare involvement in intelligence gathering, they may not be as brazen or as high-profile as some in politics, but they know the rewards are great and sanctioned within their chosen tribe.
Economists and business strategists, journalists, academics and recruiters, present a benign view of their corporate art. The daily reality, presented as strategically smart and competitive, is far more malignant. Successful bidders pitch only where they have a really good chance of winning — to do otherwise is an expensive and demoralising road to ruin. But how do you compute the odds? Intelligence is key and, in an uber-competitive system, investment in getting it is considered vital.
In the forensic post-mortems of failed bids, it is remarkable how much useful intelligence was actually available but not shared. Within the ranks of Account Managers (AKA salesmen), there is much internal competition that stifles voluntary data sharing. The cost of preparing contract bids has become a major hurdle — even in the scramble for government funding where ministers confuse public services with private enterprise for the purpose of allocating scarce resources.
All too often the intelligence failings are only evident when the contract is lost, when the post-bid feedback reveals product/organisational/service weaknesses that needed attention. The tragic case of the Manchester pop concert bombing is a stark reminder of the need for vigilance but so too was the Grenfell Tower disaster where it is now obvious that known risks were ignored. The signals for climate catastrophe have been flashing red for decades and our collective capacity to look away is only now weakening. Will we feign surprise or admit to falling asleep?
There is always too much to worry about, but Risk Registers can provide focus if kept up to date. But the best Intelligence is born of enquiring minds — the constant questioning of how we do things around here. Thankfully we now no longer need to dangle in a basket below a balloon to see the bigger picture.
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This article is archived in the Groupe Intellex listing on Governance — a discussion series for students. The author is a former member of a US-based professional body — Strategic and Competitive Intelligence (SCIP).
