I have the impression that it is somewhat gauche to say that Malcolm Gladwell's new book is really good. It is more impressive for a person who is reviewing a book to tell you that some author you've never heard of, or who is not widely read, has written a really good new book. Malcolm Gladwell is way too successful to give one any hipster satisfaction when saying it is really good. But, you know, it's really good.
Gladwell has said in interviews that he doesn't think a book is usually going to change what a person thinks about an issue, but it can help to cause the reader to think about an issue. He is not the type to try to stoke the fires of emotion on a topic; rather, in this one respect similar to Jon Ronson, he is amazingly able to maintain a thoughtful and empathetic interest in an emotional topic, without becoming a zealot. Here, he brings this to bear on the rather emotional topic of whether or not the U.S. was guilty of crimes against humanity in Japan towards the end of World War 2.
He does not put the matter so bluntly, of course. He is, though, looking into the very awkward fact that in 1945, even before the dropping of atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the U.S. had used tactics (including napalm) to bring about a firestorm in Tokyo that caused at least half a million deaths, almost all of them civilian. It was targeted on the lower-class parts of the city, because they had less stone and steel, and more wood, and thus would burn better.
It is also the story of the beginning of a long, half-century struggle to figure out how to use air power to win wars. Not to support the ground troops as they won wars, but to win wars directly with air power. The "Bomber Mafia" of the title, were a group of officers in the fledgeling Air Force (then the Army Air Corps) that was trying to figure out the best ways to use bombs, dropped from the air, to bring a war to a swift conclusion by knocking out the opponent's means of production.
This was, in a way, the natural flip-side of the struggle during World War One, by an entire generation of military officers, as they came to grips with the fact that the courage of their troops would matter less than the efficiency of their factories in determining victory or defeat. It was not a truth that they had any wish to learn, and that made it very difficult to do so. But by the time World War Two started, it was apparent that the side which could produce the most tanks, trucks, firearms, artillery, and airplanes (along with the fuel and ammunition they required) would be the side that won on the battlefield. Once this is so, it becomes the case that killing your enemy's factories is more important than killing their soldiers.
The "villain" here, Curtis LeMay, the architect of the "screw it, let's just kill a lot of people" approach that resulted in the firebombing of Tokyo, went on to a very high-profile role after World War 2. He coordinated the Berlin Airlift, which prevented West Berlin from being starved into submission by the Soviet Union. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, he advocated a hawkish approach, saying anything else was like the appeasement of Hitler at Munich. He was in favor of bombing of North Vietnam on a massive scale. In 1968 he ran as the Vice Presidential candidate for segregationist candidate George Wallace, although he was less interested in opposing integration than he was in advocating for greater willingness to use atomic weapons. He is, Gladwell admits, a hard character to sympathize with.
The "hero" here, doomed to lose this debate (we are told in the very first chapter, so this is not a spoiler), is Haywood Hansell. He was one of the "Bomber Mafia", the group of military thinkers who were trying to figure out how to use bombers, the high-tech weapon of their day, to remove the enemy's ability to fight. Somewhere today, there are doubtless military thinkers discussing how one could use drones to take out the opponent's drone-making facilities.
The problem for the Bomber Mafia, in their internal debates with others such as Curtis LeMay and Winston Churchill, was twofold:
1) when the enemy has bombed your cities, there is a very great emotional desire to hit their cities as hard as possible
2) the attempts to cripple either Germany's or Japan's industrial military complex, always failed to produce any apparent results
Gladwell takes us through the years prior to and during World War 2, doing what he has an almost unparalleled ability to do as a writer, which is to make complex intellectual debates, exciting. This is why he can tell you, near the very beginning of the book, how it "ends", and yet keep your eager interest throughout all that follows; it is not the decision, but the intellectual and moral and emotional wrestling with the topic which is engaging. The people having to decide on questions like, "shall we use napalm on the Japanese, or should we instead risk prolonging the war by another year?", not only have to weigh very heavy moral issues; they have to do so in an atmosphere of great uncertainty. Would napalm (or the firebombing of Japanese cities generally) actually shorten the war? Or would it, like the bombing of London by Germany earlier, accomplish nothing but deepening the enemy's hatred and willingness to fight? Hansell thought one way, LeMay thought differently. Historians today still debate how and why Japan finally surrendered, and whether it was the firebombing or the use of atomic bombs that finally convinced them, sparing the U.S. the necessity of a costly invasion.
In the end, by the way, I believe it was neither. I believe Japan surrendered because the Soviet Union had just declared war on Japan, and begun to conquer islands in the north. They surrendered in order to avoid the partition of their country, as had just happened to Germany, and as later happened to Korea and Vietnam. Life under U.S. occupation was not as honorable to the Japanese ruling class as it had been, but life under Soviet rule would likely have been quite short.
But, that is not the topic, or the debate, that Gladwell addresses here. The one which he does take us through is complex, morally significant, and still with us today (although superior accuracy has changed the equation a great deal). The next time we face these issues, it will be drone strikes and cyberattacks, and we may be on the receiving end. It is just as well to learn all that we can about the successes and failures of a previous generation that wrestled with such a quandary, and especially when it is written by an author as routinely excellent as this one.