From Deterrence to Incentives: Rethinking Military Culture -Col N S Dahiya

Date:- 28/05/26

“They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra, just for you.”

— Philip Larkin

This Be The Verse Institutions, like families, often inherit habits without questioning them. Some of these inherited habits inadvertently harm the members rather than helping them. Practices created for a different time continue for decades, even after the circumstances that produced them have changed. One such deeply rooted assumption within military and bureaucratic systems is that discipline is best maintained through deterrence — that order flows primarily from the fear of punishment rather than from trust, motivation and shared responsibility. Yet, an important philosophical question deserves reflection:

Do institutions merely detect indiscipline, or do they inadvertently manufacture it by constantly expecting / inadvertently promoting it?

“We see what we are looking for.”

An organisation obsessed with identifying defaulters gradually begins to assume default as the natural state of human behaviour. A culture built excessively around distrust eventually produces concealment, procedural compliance and fear — but not necessarily character.

Modern behavioural sciences increasingly suggest that human conduct is shaped not only by punishment, but also by incentives, recognition, trust and social esteem. In their influential book Nudge, Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein demonstrate how subtle institutional design and well-placed incentives can alter behaviour far more effectively than coercion alone.

One of the most famous examples from Nudge concerns retirement savings. In many organisations, employees failed to enrol in pension schemes despite obvious long-term benefits. Governments and companies initially tried awareness campaigns and repeated instructions with limited success. Behaviour changed dramatically only when the system was redesigned so that employees were automatically enrolled by default and had to consciously opt out if they did not wish to participate. Merely changing the “default setting” transformed participation rates.

The lesson is profound: human behaviour is often shaped less by lectures and punishments and more by the design of systems.

Another example discussed in the book concerns public cleanliness and civic discipline. In several cities, authorities discovered that people were less likely to litter in environments that already appeared clean and orderly. Behaviour was influenced by visible social norms. Citizens subconsciously adjusted themselves to what appeared to be the accepted conduct around them. Our shopping malls and metro stations are surprisingly clean because of this phenomenon.

Similarly, energy companies found that households reduced electricity consumption not merely when threatened with higher bills, but when informed that they were consuming more power than their neighbours. Social comparison became a stronger behavioural driver than punishment.

Indian Military organisations, despite their extraordinary strengths, remain overwhelmingly deterrence-oriented in their internal administrative culture.

At the National Defence Academy, instructors and senior cadets possess substantial authority to punish indiscipline (Restrictions, Extra Drills, Sinhgarh Hikes, Relegation and withdrawal ,etc) yet these authorities possess very limited means to formally reward honesty, responsibility, integrity or helpfulness. Similarly, the Army possesses an elaborate legal and administrative machinery — the Army Act, Rules and Regulations — to deal with defaulters, but remarkably little institutional architecture is dedicated to recognising goodness. In fact ,we have an entire Corps, the corps of Military police and an entire branch, the Judge Advocate General (JAG) Branch to deal with defaulters but no authority or formal structure to grant incentives.

This imbalance has consequences.

Take the Ex-Servicemen Contributory Health Scheme (ECHS). While conceived with noble intentions, its incentive structure inadvertently rewards sickness rather than health. There exists no meaningful incentive for preventive healthcare, physical fitness or reduced dependency on the system. The rewards are fundamentally misaligned to favour the sick and unhealthy members.

The insurance industry once faced a similar challenge. Motor insurance companies realised that if premiums remained identical regardless of claim behaviour, customers had little incentive to avoid small claims of minor accidents. The introduction of the “No Claim Bonus” transformed behaviour through positive reinforcement rather than stricter policing. Accident Claims reduced drastically.

Why should similar principles not be explored within welfare systems? A modest “Health Preservation Bonus” for individuals making minimal claims over a sustained period could potentially reduce strain on ECHS facilities, encourage preventive healthcare and diminish opportunities for petty corruption.

Likewise, subsidised liquor through the CSD system unintentionally creates incentives for over-consumption and illegal diversion into the civil market. Instead of subsidising consumption, it may be worthwhile to experiment with rewarding voluntary abstention. A direct annual incentive for authorised personnel who opt out could alter behavioural patterns far more effectively than moral lectures/ strict policing /inventory control or enforcement drives.

The broader issue is philosophical rather than administrative.

Military institutions have traditionally excelled at identifying error, but have often underinvested in recognising virtue.

Every battalion and unit could institutionalise peer-recognised moral awards:

• Most Honest Soldier

• Most Dependable Soldier

• Most Helpful NCO

• Most Professionally Turned-Out Individual

• Most Respected by Peers

Such honours, especially when accompanied by modest financial incentives or privileges, would shape unit culture more deeply than many punitive measures. Human beings respond powerfully to social recognition. Honour, esteem and peer respect are among the oldest motivational forces in military history.

A related structural issue lies in the asymmetry of command authority. Commanding Officers possess extensive disciplinary powers but remarkably limited authority to immediately reward excellence. They can award pay fines but have no similar powers to award extra bonus or increments. Beyond confidential reports and delayed career consequences, there are few mechanisms for direct positive reinforcement. Outstanding performers often receive appreciation that is intangible, delayed or invisible to peers.

This weakens the behavioural signal.

If Commanding Officers can impose punishments that are immediate and visible, they should also possess proportionate authority to grant visible rewards — financial bonuses, additional leave, accelerated privileges / promotions or special commendations.

During my own command tenure, I experimented with trust-based administrative practices. Leave procedures were radically simplified. Soldiers themselves entered desired leave dates into registers maintained at company level, and Company Commanders were duty-bound to issue leave certificates accordingly. Only the Commanding Officer retained the authority to deny leave — a power I never found necessary to exercise.

The result was striking.

There was not a single incident of AWL/OSL during that period. Soldiers planned responsibly, secured proper rail reservations and displayed greater ownership of the system because they were treated as responsible stakeholders rather than potential defaulters.

Trust, when combined with accountability, often produces stronger discipline than excessive control.

None of this implies that punishment has no role in military life. Armed forces, by their very nature, require standards, consequences and legal authority. Deterrence remains essential for grave misconduct. However, deterrence should function as a protective boundary — not as the central organising philosophy of institutional culture.

A military organisation ultimately derives strength not merely from fear of punishment, but from pride, trust, honour and shared identity.

Perhaps the time has come to shift at least part of our intellectual focus:

from punishment to incentives,

from suspicion to trust,

and from merely controlling behaviour to actively cultivating character.