NOTE:

To prepare for writing your final briefing document please be sure to read chapter 11 of the E-text this week.

Typical intelligence analysts perform the following functions on a daily basis: they review and analyze raw intelligence, draft assessments, and disseminate those assessments to policymakers as written products and through oral briefings. Chapter 11 will describe the various written products produced by the IC and discuss how intelligence analysts write for and brief policymakers.

Writing and briefing for the IC demands a certain form of communication from analysts. The guidelines in this chapter are a starting point for understanding analytical writing and briefing. Each intelligence agency has its own style, which analysts must follow, and once an agency hires an analyst they learn to write and brief in the style of their organization. Several key principles, however, pertain to intelligence writing and briefing regardless of the agency or circumstance. Writing concisely, using a BLUF format, and speaking to meet the decision-maker’s needs are universally useful skills in the world of intelligence.

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This semester we will be engaging in the drafting of an intelligence briefing document as a final project. The briefing document will follow the typical format of a briefing document .The Briefing  will require each student to perform open-source intelligence gathering. 

For this assignment your intelligence gathering will be focused on: The current situation in the Arctic and its impact on the national security of the United States.

Please be sure to research the national security implications of the above listed topic and present them as an intelligence briefing.

Using open source intelligence methods you will provide sufficient information to answer the following questions:

The following elements of the policy brief are to be included in the assignment and are mandatory.

Title (Subject)

Summary(summarize the briefing document)

Introduction

The body (the main text)

Policy implications ( what happens if we do nothing, if we do any specific action, The Pros/ Cons)

Recommendations ( you should state here what you feel is the appropriate action)

Conclusions

Feel free to use maps and be sure to use primary sources where possible. You must use at least three primary sources.

This  final project paper must be contained to 4 pages with a minimum word count of 1000 words. You are required to submit a briefing document on no more than 4 pages.

All work not your own must be properly cited APA.

Avoid large block quotes

Chapter 11
Writing and Briefing for the Intelligence Community

Good writers are those who keep the language efficient. That is to say, keep it accurate, keep it clear.

Ezra Pound

Be sincere; be brief; be seated.

Franklin D. Roosevelt, on speechmaking

Chapter Objectives

1. Explain the “bottom line up front” style used by the intelligence community (IC) and demonstrate familiarity with its use.

2. Be familiar with written IC products (e.g., National Intelligence Estimates, President’s Daily Brief).

3. Understand and apply the writing techniques used in the IC (clarity, precision, parsimony).

4. Understand the fundamentals of grammar and structure necessary for clear, concise writing.

5. Describe the fundamentals of briefing as applied in the IC.

6. Demonstrate the ability to deliver a sound public speech.

Introduction

Typical intelligence analysts perform the following functions on a daily basis: they review and analyze raw intelligence, draftassessments, and disseminate those assessments to policymakers as written products and through oral briefings. This chapter will describe the various written products produced by the IC and discuss how intelligence analysts write for and brief policymakers.

Writing

A brochure about the Central Intelligence Agency’s (CIA) Sherman Kent School described the Directorate of Analysis’s approach to writing, stating “[Agency] writing style emphasizes the bottom line up front, precise and concise language, and a clear articulation of our judgments and our confidence in them” (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 2004).

This description captures the essence of what intelligence analysts do: they write for busy policymakers and provide them with products about complex subjects that are easy to read and comprehend.

What distinguishes good intelligence writing? Well-written intelligence products are concise and logical, both in reasoning and structure. They create clear judgments and conclusions about complex and ambiguous information that decision-makers can easily absorb. Good intelligence meets the audiences’ needs and provides decision-makers with what they need to know. Amid a sea of intelligence products, good intelligence writing draws the attention of supervisors and busy decision-makers and informs or persuades them. Intelligence reports tell policymakers what threatens the country— whether it is something monumental, such as a natural disaster, civil unrest, or another state’s aggressive actions, or something less urgent, such as in-depth reports detailing current situations around the world. Theoretically, policymakers need to read what intelligence analysts write in order to make decisions; analysts need only write something that can be easily read and understood that addresses a policymaker’s concerns. Though the concept behind intelligence writing is simple, the art of writing such products, and disseminating them to policymakers, takes skill and practice.

Types of Intelligence Writing

Much of intelligence writing is collaborative; analysts write alongside other analysts within their organizations, or they write with analysts from other agencies. Analysts may also write products by themselves. Policymakers and warfighters read analysts’ papers; oftentimes, the analysts personally brief policymakers and military leaders about their judgments or conclusions. Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) products are typically written for the Secretary of Defense and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, CIA products are written for the White House, and the State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research products go to the Secretary of State. Most intelligence products are also made available to Congress.

Intelligence papers can be strategic or tactical. National Intelligence Estimates (NIEs) are the perfect example of strategic pieces, as they take an international issue that affects U.S. national security and assess, long-term, how the issue will continue to affect the United States in the coming months and years. Tactical pieces are often more immediate and comprise information needed by the military or intelligence collectors crucial to carrying out operations.

There are several different types of analytical written products. DIA intelligence writing instructor James S. Major writes, “intelligence products have three general forms: basic, current, and estimative intelligence. Each form might then describe, explain, predict or evaluate” (Major, 2008). Analysts also write in-depth or situational studies that examine current issues and forecast changes. They write warning analyses to predict the likelihood that certain threats will materialize. They write basic intelligence, creating an encyclopedic recording of information pertinent to U.S. security, such as detailed information about another country’s weapons systems or military capabilities.

Current, or daily intelligence, involves issues immediately affecting U.S. security; it is similar to news reports but also contains classified information. It usually tells a policymaker what has happened within the past 24 hours and discusses ramifications of the recent events. This timely information may be disseminated to decision-makers mere minutes after the product is written. The President’s Daily Brief (PDB), a publication presented to the President each morning, is the perfect example of this (

Figure 11.1

). The PDB is assembled by a small team of senior-level analysts. It includes snippets taken from reports written by analysts from all 17 intelligence agencies, making it the President’s ultimate morning newspaper. Senior-level analysts assemble the PDB each night into the early morning hours, taking reports from thousands of analysts and distilling the final product down to the best-written and most timely intelligence. Each morning, the Office of the Director of National Intelligence (ODNI) delivers the PDB to the President. He decides whether he wants the PDB briefed to him in person by an analyst or whether he prefers to read it himself; George W. Bush preferred the former, whereas Barack Obama preferred the latter. The PDB does more than merely tell the President what he needs to know. Rather, its content is directed to the President, according to his interests and questions. After analysts brief the President, they return to ODNI and task the President’s questions to analysts to provide follow-up information for the next briefing (Bensen, 2008).

Figure 11.1

 A page from the President’s Intelligence Check List (PICL) dated June 17, 1961. The PICL was first prepared for President John F. Kennedy and was the predecessor of the present-day President’s Daily Brief (PDB). (Source: CIA)

Unlike current intelligence, warning intelligence looks at potential threats against U.S. interests and prioritizes the issues with which the IC is concerned. In her classic military textbook Anticipating Surprise: Analysis for Strategic Warning, former DIA analyst Cynthia Grabo (2002) defined warning intelligence, stating:

Whether or not an immediate crisis or threat exists … the function of warning intelligence also is to examine continually—and to repeat periodically, or daily if necessary—any developments which could indicate that a hostile state or group is preparing, or could be preparing, some new action which could endanger U.S. security interests. It renders a judgment—positive, negative or qualified—that there is or is not a threat of new military action, or an impending change in the nature of ongoing military actions, of which the policy maker should be warned.

Analysts construct warning analysis based on indicators and look for the existence of certain facts, deployments, or reports—or the lack thereof— which indicate whether a threat is valid. Analysts ask such questions as, “If this threat were real, what sort of things would happen before it emerged?” Such things, which must be present for a threat to materialize, are known as indicators. Warnings can be both strategic and tactical. A warning is never a certainty—rather, it is the analyst’s most educated prediction about what might or might not happen. Most of all, warning analysis alerts the policymaker to real threats and assuages their concern regarding fears that are unlikely to materialize. Warning analysis serves as a compass to let policy-makers know what should or should not concern them (National Security Agency, 1981).

Although estimative intelligence also contains analytical forecasts regarding what might occur in the future, it does not serve the same function as warning analysis. Warning analysis starts with a threat and examines whether any indicators exist to determine if the threat will occur. Estimates, on the other hand, “are not predictions of the future. They are considered judgments as to the likely course of events regarding an issue of importance to the nation. Sometimes, more than one outcome may be estimated” (Best, 2011). Instead of beginning with a threat, NIEs, the most common form of estimative intelligence, look at a host of current situations to examine the way they might affect national security within a given timeframe. Analysts from across the IC assemble NIEs, which are described as (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 2004: 8):

[the] most authoritative written judgment concerning a specific national security issue … [NIEs] provide policymakers in both the executive and legislative branches with the best, unvarnished, and unbiased information—regardless of whether analytic judgments conform to any particular policy objective.

Members of the Executive Branch and Congress as well as military commanders often request NIEs from the IC.

In NIEs, analysts assess the issue at hand and forecast how the issue might further develop in the future. Oftentimes, analysts include alternative analysis to document the dissenting opinions of those writing the product; because so many people across so many agencies are involved in the writing of an NIE, analysts often fail to unanimously agree on their final judgments. A 2002 NIE about the nuclear capabilities of Iraq contained a footnote describing the Department of State Bureau of Intelligence and Research’s disagreement with the consensus opinion of the report; although the majority of intelligence analysts believed that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction (WMDs), the State Department disagreed, based on their prior knowledge of France’s involvement with Niger, the country that the NIE alleged had sold uranium to Iraq.

Analysts also write what intelligence veteran Arthur Hulnick terms in-depth reports—these situational reports and profiles cover myriad topics intended for use by policymakers. The reports can be long or short. These are not intended for policymakers who have decision-making authority. Rather, they are intended for use by working-level policymakers who continue to work for long periods of time on certain projects and need additional and detailed information.

Writing for an Audience

Analysts write different types of intelligence products. They must understand that the audience for current or daily intelligence is different from the audience for estimates or in-depth reports. Policymakers, who use intelligence to help them craftpolicy, require different information from military leaders, who use intelligence on the battlefield. Analysts must prove the value of their product to their audience by making the product relevant to the audience’s needs. Analytical writing must answer the “what,” “so what,” and “why” questions of decision-makers. Policymakers and military leaders are routinely inundated with more information than they can ever possibly process; therefore, the analyst must demonstrate the value of their analysis or it will go unnoticed.

When writing, analysts must keep in mind their readers’ occupational positions or rank and their level of influence. A policymaker’s position will affect what interests them as they will be interested in the things relevant to their authority. Analysts must also understand their readers’ level of expertise— if the reader knows a lot about a subject, an analyst can forgo background information and detail. The analyst may be challenged to tell the reader something he or she does not already know. On the other hand, if the reader has little knowledge about the analyst’s topic, the analyst must adjust and make any complex judgments understandable.

In addition to understanding the reader’s background and level of expertise, an analyst should assess what the reader will want to know about the topic. For instance, military decision-makers will require different information than the Secretary of State because both entities serve different purposes and use intelligence in different ways. Analysts should anticipate the questions that their readers will ask and attempt to answer those questions within the body of the work.

There are many publications throughout the IC; some are interagency and require participation from the entire community. Different publications provide the proper venue for different types of intelligence. Just as a novel is not the place to explain in detail how to construct a house, analysts know to publish different types of analysis in the appropriate intelligence publications. When the President receives daily intelligence in the PDB, that intelligence is merely intended to discuss current events, primarily within the past 24 hours. The PDB is not intended to alert the President to impending terrorist attacks or to assist him or her in declaring war or ordering an attack. Many people criticized the IC after September 11, 2001, because the PDB contained at least one entry related to the impending attacks. An August 6, 2001 report discussed terrorists’ possible use of commercial aircraftto attack U.S. buildings. Intelligence officials, however, have defended the President’s oversight. Hulnick (2006: 965) explains:

[N]ormally the PDB would not have been the kind of intelligence product used for warning. The warning would have been delivered in a much more specific document devoted entirely to the subject.

Intelligence analysts must place information in the proper type of publication. For example, information suggesting a terrorist attack should not be nestled within the many reports included in a PDB. Rather, such information should appear in a situational report or even an NIE; the information is crucial to national security and deserves the undivided attention of policymakers.

How to Write Intelligence Products

Although an analytical report may crucially influence a policymaker’s ability to make a decision, chances are the policymaker will have very little time to read through the report. Decision-makers are extremely busy people, and they likely will not read a report word for word. Therefore, the golden rule of intelligence writing is BLUF—bottom line up front. Unlike academic papers, which posit a thesis early into the paper and save the grand conclusions for the very end, intelligence papers need to tell a policymaker the main point in the first paragraph on the first page of the paper. The BLUF should be written as a declarative sentence; for example, “in the last six months, Utopia’s currency has destabilized, the military has revolted against the government’s executive power, and the country will very likely become a failed state within the next three months.”

Thanks to the BLUF format, if a policymaker has only a few seconds or few minutes to read a report, he or she will see, with ease, what the report is about and what key judgments the analyst has made. The BLUF answers the question of “so what”—it conveys the meaning behind the analysis. After reading the BLUF, if a policymaker wants more detail they can continue reading for information about evidence that supports the bottom line. Like an inverted triangle, intelligence reports begin with generalized information and later move to more specific information. The most important information should be placed at the beginning of the paper. With BLUF, information is distilled to its main point— in one or two sentences, what must a policymaker learn from reading a report? That crucial information belongs at the beginning of the paper.

Although few students or analysts have had the experience of being a policymaker, they can often identify nonetheless with a policymaker’s limited ability to read something because of time constraints. College undergraduate students receive lengthy reading assignments; graduate students often receive assignments for more pages of reading than is possible for most people to complete. Sometimes, students must skim the assignment. Although skimming is never the ideal, most students have at one point or another become overwhelmed with class work or procrastinated to the point that they must skim an assignment for brevity’s sake. Any student who has done so knows that some assignments are easier to skim than others; when students are given long chapters or books with paragraphs that stretch for pages, ambiguous or complicated language, and few subheadings or summaries, trying to glean the meaningful information from the product in a short amount of time turns out to be difficult or even impossible. Alternatively, a textbook with summaries at the beginning of each chapter, short paragraphs, informative subheadings, and easy-to-read language is much easier to digest in a short amount of time. Intelligence writing should follow such an organized format; headings, bolded conclusions, and clear, concise language help make intelligence products readable.

Magazines and newspapers are almost always easier to skim than books because they include summaries, subheadings, shorter paragraphs and words, and less content. Many have likened intelligence analysts to journalists. The ability to write a report that can be easily read is a true talent in the IC and something that distinguishes an analyst from his or her peers.

To write easily readable papers, intelligence analysts should organize the structure and order of their writing before beginning the first draft. Analysts need to know what they mean to say before they say it. Writing intelligence is not the same as writing a novel—some novelists sit down, begin writing, and watch as their characters and plot unfold in unexpected ways. An intelligence analyst does not sit down, start typing, and see where things go; they do not posit, “I’ll figure out, as I write, whether or not X country has weapons of mass destruction.” Rather, they think about what they want to say ahead of time, organize their thoughts accordingly, and draftan outline. Once they are sure of what they want to say, they begin writing. This method of writing helps to ensure that the analysis is sound and that conclusions are firmly supported by evidence.

Analysts must also crafta compelling title that informs policymakers about the substance of their paper. Because there is so much written each day within the IC, when senior analysts put together such documents as the PDB, they often look first at the titles of the papers they receive. If a title fails to spark any interest, the analysts may disregard the paper and not include it in the PDB or ever give it a close reading. In the past, IC NIEs have used the following titles:

Iran Under Rafsanjani: Seeking a New Role in the World Community (1991)

Insurgency and Counterinsurgency in Peru, Colombia, and Ecuador (1987)

PRC (People’s Republic of China) Defense Policy and Armed Forces (1976)

Communist Military and Economic Aid to North Vietnam, 1970–1974 (1975)

China’s Strategic Attack Programs (1974)

Possible Changes in the Sino—Soviet Relationship (1973)

The Short-Term Prospect for Cambodia Through the Current Dry Season (1973)

Communist China’s Reactions to Developments in Laos (1971)

The Soviet Role in Latin America (1971)

Capabilities of the Vietnamese Communists for Fighting in South Vietnam (1969)

The Potential for Revolution in Latin America (1969)

The Short-Term Outlook in Communist China (1968)

Khrushchev, Castro, and Latin American (1963)

Notice how each of the titles informs the reader of exactly what the NIE will discuss; the titles are not merely descriptive but also analytic. They signal the question that the BLUF will answer. They do not use creative titles that leave a reader guessing what the report will discuss. Notice the eye-catching 1991 NIE title, “The Winter of the Soviet Military: Cohesion or Collapse?” Without the added phrase, “cohesion or collapse,” the reader would have a difficult time determining what the NIE discusses—is the NIE literally discussing the winter season in the Soviet Union? Is the NIE discussing a figurative sort of winter, and if so, what exactly does the author mean to say?

Analysts must remember that when writing they are putting together an argument supported by evidence. By argument, we mean that analysts have examined a situation, issue, or group of people and decided that something is a certain way. For instance, they have decided that a dictator poses a threat to U.S. national security, they have decided that a country’s economic instability could result in human rights violations, or maybe they have decided that a certain strain of virus will likely lead to an outbreak. In each instance, the analyst must prove that their conclusion—their argument for how the world is—is correct. To prove their argument, analysts must support their contentions with evidence. Thus, to write a good intelligence product, analysts start by assembling the best sources they can possibly find. When conducting research, many students perform a cursory internet search and use whatever sources appear first in the web browser’s results. This method of identifying sources does not incorporate the rigor needed to conduct good open-source intelligence analysis. Great analysts seek to identify the best sources pertinent to their topic. They seek to incorporate the greatest classified raw intelligence and the best open-source intelligence. Above all, analysts verify the veracity of their sources. They determine whether the source is unduly biased or inaccurate. If a source is unreliable, they do not use it in their writing, or they heavily caveat the source by alerting the reader to the source’s possible unreliability.

When putting together sources for a writing assignment, analysts should question the credibility of all the information they come across. Even products written by so-called experts can be misleading or wrong; analysts should verify beforehand that the sources and the conclusions within the sources they use are legitimate. In an ideal world, multiple sources would corroborate conclusions. Unfortunately, the nature of intelligence analysis means that sometimes analysts will have to rely on questionable or sparse source material. Despite the need to verify sources, sometimes the needed information simply is not there, or it is not there in totality. Because of this, analysts often reach certain judgments; however, some judgments are more strongly supported by evidence than others. NIEs and other intelligence products incorporate confidence levels. Thus, analysts make judgments and subsequently indicate whether they possess a high, moderate, or low level of confidence in their conclusions. This alerts policymakers to how sure the analyst is regarding what they are saying. Indicating confidence levels is crucial to intelligence writing; otherwise, policymakers may take for granted that the analysts’ judgments are all well supported by intelligence. Policymakers often see only the analysts’ conclusions; they do not see the amount or credibility of information supporting those conclusions. To make it clearer for policymakers, intelligence analysts must indicate their confidence levels.

In addition to confidence levels, analysts also use estimative language to convey the likelihood that something will happen. This is different from confidence levels because here the analyst is not saying how confident they are in their sources or their information; rather, they are saying how likely something is to happen or not.

To illustrate, consider an analyst who is investigating whether a country’s leader is in good health and whether the leader is likely to die within the next year. The analyst may have a human intelligence (HUMINT) report from a source whose reliability is either not good or has yet to be established; the HUMINT source may report that the leader is in the final stages of battling cancer and has fewer than six months to live. Thus, the source says the leader is very likely to die. The analyst, however, is unable to substantiate the HUMINT source’s claim. It’s possible that aside from the HUMINT source and a few recent photos of the leader, showing weight loss and apparent frailty, the analysts will have little to help them conclude the current health state of the leader. Therefore, an analyst might judge only with moderate confidence that the leader will soon die, based on the scarcity and unreliability of their sources. Because an unreliable source has indicated that the leader is very likely to die within the next six months, the analyst would say there is a likely chance the leader will pass away in the next month but caveat that estimative likelihood by also indicating his confidence level in that likelihood. Thus, the analyst would write that they have moderate confidence that the leader will die within the next year.

Finally, good intelligence writing must include analysis. Novice intelligence writers make the mistake of merely describing a situation without providing any real analysis or interpretation. Analytical judgments are crucial to intelligence work; no matter how well written an intelligence product is, if it fails to convey meaningful analysis, it will likely be of limited utility to decision-makers. Analysts cannot merely describe a situation. Instead, they must cull, from the many sources available, the most relevant information that will allow them to draw conclusions. Then, they must take the information and provide new insights into the subject matter. Analysts cannot merely describe the important information available to them; rather, they must make sense of the information and answer the underlying “so what” and “why” questions. Analysts do not simply retell the contents of raw intelligence or relay the history of a certain topic; rather, they interpret the meaning of the information in light of the policymaker’s needs. They provide the framework for policy-makers to understand the big picture. Effective intelligence writing incorporates sophisticated analysis and interpretation. To learn more about analysis, see 

Chapters 5

 (“Barriers to Analysis”) and 6 (“Analytical Methods”). When reviewing their reports, analysts should make certain that they have gone beyond description and included their own analysis.

Good Versus Bad Intelligence Writing

In the past, certain analytical products have not fully aided policymakers and military leaders in making decisions. The IC’s 2002 Iraq NIE is a prime example of a poorly supported intelligence product. The NIE concluded that Iraq was “reconstituting its nuclear program.” In the first paragraph of the NIE, analysts concluded in BLUF form (National Intelligence Council, 2002):

Iraq has continued its weapons of mass destruction (WMD) programs in defiance of UN resolutions and restrictions. Baghdad has chemical and biological weapons as well as missiles with ranges in excess of UN restrictions; if left unchecked, it will probably have a nuclear weapon during this decade.

Unfortunately, in the Iraq NIE, analysts relied on outdated and unreliable sources. Only one primary source claimed that Iraq had restarted its nuclear program, but the source was unreliable. Several years later, a Senate report concluded “the Defense HUMINT Service (DHS) demonstrated serious lapses in its handling of the HUMINT source code named CURVE BALL, who was the principal source behind the IC’s assessments that Iraq had a mobile biological weapons program” (Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, 2004: 26). Additionally, the analysts who wrote the NIE assumed from the beginning that Iraq had WMDs. They used the available evidence to support this conclusion. A better approach would have been if the analysts had first asked whether Iraq had WMDs and then looked to see which answer the evidence supported. Since the publication of the Iraq NIE, the IC has changed the way it writes NIEs. Today, the CIA’s National Clandestine Service, which coordinates the capturing of HUMINT, must verify any human sources used to support conclusions drawn in an NIE. Such a review is intended to mitigate the use of unreliable sources (Bruno & Otterman, 2008).

Since the Iraq NIE, the IC has encouraged analysts to incorporate more alternative analysis. Rather than assuming that their conclusions are correct, analysts must consider other valid possibilities. Consider a court case— most cases that end up in court can be argued in two different ways. The prosecution or plaintiff has their own version of the story and the defense, another. Both sides discuss roughly the same set of events or people. Yet, they subscribe to very different interpretations. In the same way, intelligence is not clear-cut. Often, intelligence writing relies on speculation—analysts may believe that something is a certain way, but they rarely have irrefutable evidence to prove their conclusion one way or the other. Therefore, when writing an intelligence report, analysts must also consider the counterarguments to everything they write. From there, they must address, and if possible, dismiss those counterarguments. Perhaps there are weaknesses in the analysts’ arguments or conclusions. Instead of weakening the analysts’ argument, showing that one has considered alternative viewpoints will actually strengthen one’s analytical writing by demonstrating that the analyst has taken all possible explanations into account.

In 2007, the IC exhibited caution when it drafted an NIE about Iran’s nuclear capabilities, a written product that has earned the reputation as the most rigorous NIE written by the IC up to that time (see 

Box 11.1

). Unlike the Iraq NIE, which was written in three weeks and involved poor inter-agency collaboration, the Iran NIE involved lengthy coordination from all 17 intelligence agencies. The final product is 140 pages long and includes extensive footnotes, indicating sources as well as a great deal of alternative analysis.

Box 11.1

 Excerpt from the Iran NIE: What we Mean when we Say: An Explanation of Estimative Language

We use phrases such as we judge, we assess, and we estimate—and probabilistic terms such as probably and likely—to convey analytical assessments and judgments. Such statements are not facts, proof, or knowledge. These assessments and judgments generally are based on collected information, which often is incomplete or fragmentary. Some assessments are built on previous judgments. In all cases, assessments and judgments are not intended to imply that we have “proof” that shows something to be a fact or that definitively links two items or issues.

In addition to conveying judgments rather than certainty, our estimative language also often conveys (1) our assessed likelihood or probability of an event, and (2) the level of confidence we ascribe to the judgment.

Estimates of Likelihood

Because analytical judgments are not certain, we use probabilistic language to reflect the Community’s estimates of the likelihood of developments or events. Terms such as probably, likely, very likely, or almost certainly indicate a greater than even chance. The terms unlikely and remote indicate a less than even chance that an event will occur; they do not imply that an event will not occur. Terms such as might or may reflect situations in which we are unable to assess the likelihood, generally because relevant information is unavailable, sketchy, or fragmented. Terms such as we cannot dismiss, we cannot rule out, or we cannot discount reflect an unlikely, improbable, or remote event whose consequences are such that it warrants mentioning. The chart provides a rough idea of the relationship of some of these terms to each other.

Remote—Very Unlikely—Unlikely—Even Chance—Probably/Likely—Very likely—Almost certainly.

Confidence in Assessments

Our assessments and estimates are supported by information that varies in scope, quality, and sourcing. Consequently, we ascribe high, moderate, or low levels of confidence to our assessments, as follows:

· High confidence generally indicates that our judgments are based on high-quality information, and/or that the nature of the issue makes it possible to render a solid judgment. A “high confidence” judgment is not a fact or a certainty, however, and such judgments still carry a risk of being wrong.

· Moderate confidence generally means that the information is credibly sourced and plausible but not of sufficient quality or corroborated sufficiently to warrant a higher level of confidence.

· Low confidence generally means that the information’s credibility and/or plausibility is questionable, or that the information is too fragmented or poorly corroborated to make solid analytical inferences, or that we have significant concerns or problems with the sources.

Source: National Intelligence Council. (2007). Iran: Nuclear intentions and capabilities. www.dni.gov/press_releases/20071203_release .

The Art of Writing

Just as novelists spend their lifetimes trying to perfect their craft, writing draftafter draft, chapter after chapter, book after book, intelligence analysts need to spend the time and effort to perfect his or her writing. Intelligence analysts write to a specific audience—decision-makers—and it is imperative that intelligence analysts write well. To write intelligence products that decision-makers can easily read, there are several principles that intelligence analysts must follow.

First, analysts should write in short, easy-to-read paragraphs. Each paragraph should have a topic sentence that conveys the main idea; analysts should convey one main idea with each paragraph. Each paragraph’s topic sentence should be followed by three to five more sentences of exposition. If a policymaker has only enough time to read the first sentence of each paragraph in an analyst’s paper, those first sentences alone should provide enough information for the policymaker to understand the subject. Analysts should use the topic sentence to summarize the point they wish to make in that paragraph. The topic sentence is that paragraph’s BLUF.

Intelligence analysts must also understand and properly apply the rules of grammar. Intelligence agencies today lament the poor writing quality of applicants. One’s inability to write has disqualified countless candidates from receiving intelligence analyst positions. One of the most helpful things an aspiring analyst can do to write better is to regularly review a good grammar book. Even good writers can benefit from a refresher. Reviewing grammar rules can elicit nausea from most people, but the rules are non-negotiable when it comes to producing a well-written product. Analysts write for a living; therefore, their ability to use the proper words constitutes their tradecraftand subsequently, their career reputation. The following paragraphs briefly review issues commonly found in student or entry-level analytic writing.

Sentence Structure

Although the best writers sometimes break grammar and writing rules on purpose (and often receive critical acclaim for the ingenuity of doing so—consider William Faulkner’s stream-of-consciousness writing and lack of punctuation), the rest of us do well to abide by the grammar rules in an effort to keep ourselves from sounding ridiculous. Writers walk a tightrope in balancing the use of their own style and voice. Because intelligence products go to policy-makers and high-level intelligence authorities, analysts should use a level of formality that precludes casualness, both in style and in tone. In the following sections, we discuss a few grammar mistakes common to students’ writing.

The Active Voice

Notice the difference between the two sentences:

· Active: Tom caught the ball.

· Passive: The ball was caught by Tom.

The active version of the sentence bursts with motion and forgoes the pesky “to be” verb “was.” Young children in grade school learn to omit “to be” verbs such as am, is, are, was, were, be, being, been. They are not encouraged to omit “to be” verbs simply because English teachers do not like them; rather, they eliminate those words because they often stand in the way of writing in the active voice. Using to-be verbs causes writers to defer to passive voice and craftwordy sentences such as “The brilliant intelligence report was written by Sarah” or “The car was driven by a sixteen year old lunatic.” Instead, writers should state, “Sarah wrote the brilliant intelligence report” or “The sixteen year old lunatic drove the car.”

Additionally, too many “to be” verbs lead to wordy sentences:

Wordy—There were many monkeys dangling from the agent’s car once he finally found his way out of the jungle.

Revised—The agent emerged from the jungle and discovered monkeys dangling from his car.

Identifying Agents

Providing clarity about agents makes a decision-maker’s job easier. Consider the following sentence:

To get from the United States to France, an airplane must be flown.

This sentence starts with an infinitive—“to get.” Unfortunately for the reader, the sentence does not name an actor. Such an omission makes the sentence sound terribly theoretical and abstract; this is a sentence with generalized advice directed toward no one. To make this a better sentence, the writer should identify an agent:

To get from the United States to France, 
you
 must fly on an airplane.

The identification of the actor—you—makes for a better sentence because the reader now knows the person to whom the sentence refers.

Commas

The rules regarding comma usage are fairly simple. In the first place, compound sentences separated by a conjunction (and, or, but) need a comma.

Example: We write every day, and we research as well.

But for the “and,” there would be two separate sentences or what English teachers refer to as “independent clauses”: We write every day. We research as well.

When joining the two independent clauses into one compound sentence through the use of the conjunction “and,” the writer must use a comma. Conversely, sentences that contain a conjunction without two independent clauses generally do not need a comma before the conjunction.

Example: We write every day and research as well.

This sentence contains an independent clause, a conjunction, and a dependent clause. “Research as well” cannot stand on its own. Therefore, no comma is needed before the conjunction “and.”

There are other rules for commas as well; prospective analysts and collectors should consult grammar books to ensure that they are aware of correct structure and usage.

Needless Words

Strunk and White’s classic grammar book The Elements of Style made this phrase famous among writers (Strunk & White, 2000):

Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all sentences short, or avoid all detail and treat subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.

The last part of Strunk’s quotation, “that every word tell,” is particularly applicable to intelligence writing. Intelligence analysts write for policymakers who are under a great deal of pressure and time constraints. Chances are, if an analyst composes a long report, the policymaker will read only the main points necessary for making a decision. Thus, clarity, conciseness, and brevity are critical to intelligence writing. Analysts must make each word count and eliminate the words that do not.

Unlike English classes where students are tasked to fill a certain number of pages, intelligence analysts face a completely different problem. Oftentimes, they have to distill enormous amounts of information down to a couple of pages or even a couple of paragraphs. Analysts use their judgment to determine the most crucial information relevant to the policymaker’s needs. They consider their audience, asking what their reader needs to know. Then, they construct a report that speaks precisely to the policymaker’s needs with no more words than are necessary.

Reading Level of the Analytic Piece

Some writers mistakenly think they sound smarter if their writing is excessively wordy or if they use a lot of big words. Unfortunately, their attempts at sounding smart make their writing laborious to read, and the writers themselves sound pretentious. Many intelligence agencies gauge the readability of analysts’ works by grading them on the Flesch and Flesch–Kincaid reading scales, which determine a written product’s grade level. Analysts are encouraged to write at a grade-level comparable to that found in major news publications such as Time or U.S. News and World Report; IC analytic training courses push students to write at a grade level of 10–13. Writing instructors discourage analysts from writing with too much complexity because it precludes a policymaker from being able to read and make sense of the work quickly. Analysts need to remove ambiguity, not add to it. Policymakers should be able to read an analyst’s work one time and glean all the information they need. If the document is excessively verbose and takes more than one reading to comprehend, the analyst has not written a good intelligence product. Popular novelist Stephen King encouraged readers to skip ostentatious vocabulary and instead use the first words that come to mind (King, 2000):

One of the really bad things you can do to your writing is to dress up the vocabulary, looking for long words because you’re maybe a little bit ashamed of your short ones. This is like dressing up a household pet in evening clothes. The pet is embarrassed and the person who committed this act of premeditated cuteness should be even more embarrassed. Make yourself a solemn promise right now that you’ll never use ‘emolument’ when you mean ‘tip.’

When writing a product for a policymaker, writers should forgo the words that make them sound the “smartest” and instead use the simplest words that say what they mean to say.

Simple writing includes limiting the use of adjectives and adverbs. This is not to say that writers should eliminate all of their adjectives and adverbs; used the proper way, those words can add color and depth to writing. Adjectives and adverbs used to excess weaken the writing. Adjectives describe nouns and adverbs describe verbs; if one uses proper nouns and verbs in the first place, there will be no need to qualify them with as many adjectives and adverbs. Most of the time, adjectives and adverbs are superfluous:

Example: Her hands trembled as she timidly called her attorney.

In this sentence, it is grammatically acceptable to use the word “timidly.” When “timidly” is read within the context of the sentence, however, it becomes unnecessary. The verb “trembled” already indicates that the caller is frightened. The sentence would read better if it merely said, “Her hands trembled as she called her attorney.” Similarly, intelligence analysts should resist burying their verbs and nouns in layers of adjectives and adverbs. Instead of saying “Narnia’s fierce, huge, and easily adaptable military forces are capable of beating Middle Earth’s scrawny army any day,” a writer could convey the same message in simpler form by writing “Narnia’s military forces surpass those of Middle Earth.” The sentence is shorter, easier to read, and conveys the same message as the longer version.

The Writing Process

After intelligence analysts have outlined what they wish to say, they face the difficult task of putting their thoughts to paper. Novelist Anne Lamott preaches the importance of overcoming perfectionism to write a first draft(Lamott, 1994): “Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something—anything—down on paper.”

Few analysts are skilled enough to write a good intelligence product on the first draft. Chances are, they will write a first draftand edit at least two or three times. For the first draft, analysts should write with as few inhibitions as possible. The first draftis the time to get words onto paper. Analysts should wait to clean up their writing until the revision phase.

During the revision process, analysts should pay careful attention to the logic of their analysis, making sure their reasoning and conclusions are sound. They should tighten their writing by correcting grammar and punctuation mistakes and omitting any extra words. Many analysts use a peer review process to revise their work; by having other analysts read their products, they can catch mistakes they would have otherwise missed.

Although intelligence analysts are certainly not novelists, they write for a living and have an audience that may or may not pay attention to what is being written. The IC publishes scores of reports and other intelligence documents; there is no guarantee that an analyst’s work will ever be read by the intended audience. Thus, analysts should write as well as they possibly can. To write well, one must read well. Intelligence analysts have a voracious and steady reading diet of international news received from the best sources possible. They regularly read reports about their subject areas in order to retain familiarity with their field.

Briefing

Writing well is roughly half the battle; analysts also spend a good bit of time briefing their findings to decision-makers.

Briefings generally follow the BLUF format of written products: Briefers give their BLUF and make sure the policymaker understands why the briefing is applicable to them. If an analyst gives a recurring briefing, he or she will take into account the policymaker’s past concerns and interests as well as the content of prior briefings. Intelligence analysts who regularly brief the same policymakers and senior leaders over long periods of time often admit that they can eventually anticipate most of the questions they receive. Good analysts know that their briefing is intended to meet the needs of the policymaker. They approach a briefing as an opportunity to help a policymaker fully understand a particular issue.

Basics of Public Speaking

Good intelligence briefers understand the fundamentals of public speaking. Until analysts find their speaking style and becomes comfortable speaking in front of others, they require a lot of practice.

Most people who have spoken in front of audiences for a long time (long is relative in this case; for some, it can be several months, whereas for others it can be several years) naturally do the things that good speakers do. They speak clearly and articulate their words, speaking neither too fast nor too slow. They speak with confidence and maintain eye contact with their audience members. Their presentation is organized; many IC agencies insist that briefers use some sort of presentation software, such as PowerPoint, which generally helps speakers organize their thoughts. However, there is no shortcut for becoming a good briefer; generally, it is a matter of practice, practice, and practice.

Analysts can hone their speaking skills by doing several things. First, they may prepare for a presentation by rehearsing alone. They do this to become comfortable standing and speaking while using slides. In practice, analysts might also videotape themselves while speaking; this will let them see exactly how their presentation looks to their audience. By watching themselves during playback, they see themselves do things they did not know they did. By digitally speeding up the video, their distracting ticks will become instantly clear—they will see themselves put their hair behind their ear 30 times in a five-minute presentation, use nervous hand gestures, shifttheir weight from one foot to the other, or sway back and forth.

When analysts watch themselves speak, they should also beware of their use of “uh” and “uhm.” Some speech teachers will hold up a sign each time a student uses “uh” or “uhm” to help make them aware of when they say it. For those who struggle to speak clearly, they can try practicing in front of a friend who will alert them each time they use a filler word. Analysts can also do their best to refrain from using “uh” and “uhm” in everyday speech, making every effort to cleanse their vocabulary of those words.

When looking at the video, analysts should pay attention to their body movements. Good speakers have good posture and stand up straight with their shoulders back. Analysts should refrain from fidgeting and plant their feet firmly on the ground. When analysts speak from behind a podium, they should rest their hands gently on the podium and refrain from “driving” or gripping the podium on its sides. When analysts stand and speak without a podium, they should rest their hands comfortably at their sides. Analysts should resist the temptation to pace back and forth in front of their audience. If they do move, they might move during the presentation’s transitions from one point to another. Analysts should resist putting their hands behind their back or in their pockets, as such stances can come across as smug and overly casual.

Analysts must also remember to relax and breathe. A popular myth holds that most people are more afraid of public speaking than death; although this may not be true, many individuals would no doubt classify themselves as glossophobic (afraid of speaking before groups). If analysts fear speaking in public, they must muster extra determination to become a good speaker. They will allow for extra practice. As they continue speaking, their presentation skills improve, and over time they feel less anxious about speaking.

To present well, analysts must clearly articulate their words and speak at a comfortable volume appropriate to the size of their venue. No one likes to strain their ears to hear a speaker; alternatively, no audience likes to feel as if the speaker is yelling at them. Experienced briefers will know how to modulate their delivery and find a happy level at which to speak. They will also pay attention to the rate of their speech, using video rehearsals and their colleagues’ feedback to determine if they speak too fast or too slow. Analysts also learn to insert pauses throughout their speeches as they transition from point to point; brief respites give the audience time to digest the speaker’s message.

Briefing Preparation

Intelligence analysts conduct several types of briefings. Sometimes, they are called to give a one-time briefing to a policymaker. Other times, they give recurring briefings to the same audience members. Analysts’ individual situations dictate how they prepare for their briefing. If they give a briefing every day to the same policymaker, they will eventually decrease their level of preparation. This is not to say they will not continue to prepare diligently for their presentation. The preparation in the earlier briefings, however, allows them to focus more clearly on details related to recent events rather than background information. They will retain familiarity with their subject matter, their briefing skills will remain well-oiled since they brief every day, and because they have to prepare a briefing with frequency, they will be hard pressed to find the time to put in a full, daily dress rehearsal. Many experienced briefers outline on paper what they wish to say beforehand, and, if time allows, practice saying their presentation aloud once or twice before they present. Some have reached a point where they no longer rehearse aloud. Understand, however, that this is not where the novice speaker starts. The best briefers did not become accomplished without years of practice and preparation. Until they gain experience, they dedicate as much time as they need to prepare and practice their presentation beforehand. As chance favors the prepared mind, so does it favor the prepared briefer.

In addition to having a solid, substantive presentation, analysts should also research their audience beforehand. An analyst will ideally know as much as they can about their policymaker as well as what the policymaker cares about and needs to know. Just as analysts tailor analytical papers to their audience, analysts likewise tailor their presentation. A good analyst will do his or her best to determine a policymaker’s preferences. For example, an analyst should try to discern whether their policymaker likes slide presentations and adjust their presentation accordingly. Analysts should determine beforehand how much time they have to speak and decide if the allotted time is adequate for making their point. If the time is too short or too long, analysts may try to adjust the time according to their needs. Once the time is set, however, analysts must plan to stay comfortably within the set limit. Busy policymakers will not appreciate a presentation that extends past its allotted time. If an analyst has more time than needed, he or she may end the briefing early instead of inserting needless “filler” information. Before analysts decide that they do not have enough information to fill their briefing time, however, they should ensure that they have adequately assessed their topic and that they do not need to conduct extra research.

Before analysts present, they should outline on paper exactly what they wish to say. They should begin by introducing themselves and telling their policy-maker the subject of their presentation. After their introduction, the speaker should briefly tell the audience what they plan to discuss and then follow their introduction with their BLUF. Good analysts provide the main conclusion of their presentation at the beginning and follow with supporting evidence. Before analysts end their presentations, they should summarize what they presented, remind their audience once more of the BLUF, and conclude.

Rather than creating an outline and speaking off the cuff, some people prefer to write out their presentation word for word and memorize. Most analysts, however, do not do this. Writing out a speech and memorizing may work for a college speech class, but it will likely end disastrously in the “real world.” Giving a memorized speech often sounds rehearsed and unnatural. An intelligence briefing is not a theater performance; rather, a briefing allows an analyst to engage a policymaker in conversation to provide greater understanding. Even if analysts have the time to memorize a speech and sound halfway natural when they recite it, they risk drawing a blank and ruining their entire presentation. When analysts must rely on their memory to recite a speech, one forgotten word can destroy a presentation; this can become a problem when a policymaker interrupts to ask a question, causing the analyst to forget his or her place in the presentation.

When analysts present slides, they must refrain from reading the slides to the policymaker. Instead, they should refer to their slides but also have a presentation separate from the slides’ text. When designing a slideshow, analysts should use a neutral background template that does not distract from the overall message. They should use plain fonts written in one color, preferably black or dark blue; however, if they use a dark background template, they should consider making their text white for ease of reading. The text must be large enough to read from a distance. Briefers may also use graphics such as maps, charts, or pictures that pertain to the presentation. Informative graphics, when used well, can aid a policymaker’s understanding.

Analysts should aim to include no more than two or three main points on one slide. They should refrain from overloading any slides with too much text, remembering that less is more. Additionally, analysts should avoid making too many slides. Analysts will usually spend at least a few minutes discussing each slide. It is often a good idea to create several detailed backup slides in case the policymaker wishes to delve into some details related to the presentation. For example, the analyst may wish to include a slide detailing their use of an analytic method. Analysts should place the backup slides at the end of the slideshow presentation, and if a policymaker requests additional detail, analysts may flip forward to their backup slides and return to their regular presentation once they have answered the policymaker’s questions.

Analysts should carry a printed version of their slides so that if their presentation does not work, they can refer to their hard copy. They should also save their presentation in several different formats; if they have a newer version of software, they should save their slides in a format compatible with older software versions.

Finally, analysts should dress professionally for their presentation, forgoing a trendy look in favor of a conservative suit or dress, preferably in one of the “power colors” such as gray, black, navy, or brown. To ensure they look appropriate, analysts should ensure that their clothes are pressed and tailored to fit. Importantly, every agency has its own culture, which determines the appropriateness of behavior, demeanor, and dress. Analysts must understand the culture of their audience. Failure to do so will result in alienation and, ultimately, a dismissal of whatever the analyst has to say.

When analysts arrive at their briefing, they should bring a notepad so that they can make notes as the policymaker asks questions; having the notepad with them as they present allows analysts to capture the essence of their policymaker’s questions to properly answer them.

The Briefing

Analysts should arrive at their briefing early. They do not want to appear flustered or out of breath when they give their presentation. Before speaking, they should have one last look-over in a mirror, ensuring that they do not have food in their teeth or something spilled on their clothes. When they arrive at their destination, they should figure out where their policymaker will sit and determine where they should stand. If they use slides, they should position themselves so that they can look at both the policymaker and the screen without turning their back. If they brief alongside another colleague, they should ensure that each presenter can see the other’s face.

Most importantly, analysts must be confident; how they say something is as important as what they say. They should begin their presentation by introducing themselves, remaining at all times respectful and deferential toward the policymaker.

No matter how much preparation analysts perform beforehand, their briefing may go differently than planned. Good briefers learn to “go with the flow” and answer the policymaker’s questions using a formal but relaxed speaking style. When the policymaker begins to ask a question, briefers should immediately stop talking and listen. When speaking, they should avoid using slang or lingo. If anything goes wrong during their presentation—the PowerPoint does not work, they botch something they had planned to say, they do not know the answer to a question a policymaker asks them—analysts should not give excuses. Rather, they should quickly apologize and move on as best they can.

Policymakers may bring their colleagues to the briefing. Despite the audience, analysts must remember to direct their presentation to the policymaker. During the briefing, analysts should pay attention. If a policymaker looks bored or if their eyes begin to glaze over and they appear to lose interest, analysts should respond accordingly. Perhaps they should move to another slide or quicken their pace. If their policymaker appears confused, the analyst may need to explain it in greater detail or explain it in a simpler way so that the policymaker understands.

Analysts should prepare for the policymaker to ask many questions or no questions at all. They should prepare a presentation that fills the entire allotted time while anticipating that the policymaker may ask questions that take the analyst in a new direction. Analysts should strive to answer the policymaker’s questions, but if the policymaker diverts to a tangent, the analyst should gently direct the briefing back to its intended purpose.

Occasionally, a policymaker may ask a question for which an analyst does not have an answer. When this happens, and it will, analysts should not bluff their way through an answer. Instead, they should inform the policymakers that they will get back to them with an answer. First year students at the U.S. Naval Academy are not permitted to use the phrase “I don’t know” when asked a question by an upperclassman. Instead, they must reply “I’ll find out, sir (ma’am).” This is good advice for briefers as well.

Some analysts have complained of being held hostage in hostile briefing situations. Sometimes, policymakers will use a briefing opportunity as a chance to confirm their policy agenda. Such a policymaker shows no concern for the analyst’s message but rather aims to get the analyst to say what the policy-maker wants to hear. If the analyst believes the policymaker is asking leading questions and not allowing the analyst to convey their judgments, the analyst should try as best they can to convey their point. Analysts should not allow a policymaker to warp or twist their judgments based on the limited questions they purposefully ask. If a policymaker fails to ask the right questions, an analyst may politely mention what other factors the policymaker might consider.

Analysts must also ensure, however, that they do not mistakenly delve into a policymaker’s territory. Analysts provide policymakers with information needed to make a decision. They discuss the ramifications of each possible decision but leave it to the policymaker to make the final decision.

Analysts have the mighty responsibility of providing nonpoliticized and objective analysis. As discussed earlier in the book, the briefer may be the only one in the room willing or able to tell the policymaker “the way it is.” Some call this speaking truth to power, and it can require a great deal of courage. As Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Herbert Agar once said, “The truth that makes men free is for the most part the truth which men prefer not to hear” (Agar, 1942).

Conclusion

Writing and briefing for the IC demands a certain form of communication from analysts. The guidelines in this chapter are a starting point for understanding analytical writing and briefing. Each intelligence agency has its own style, which analysts must follow, and once an agency hires an analyst they learn to write and brief in the style of their organization. Several key principles, however, pertain to intelligence writing and briefing regardless of the agency or circumstance. Writing concisely, using a BLUF format, and speaking to meet the decision-maker’s needs are universally useful skills in the world of intelligence.

Questions for Discussion

1. What are the most important elements of intelligence writing?

2. How does an analyst write something that will gain the decision-maker’s attention?

3. How does an analyst decide what type of intelligence product he or she should write?

4. How should novice intelligence briefers prepare for an upcoming presentation?

5. How does an analyst avoid entering into the realm of policymaking when briefing?

Key Terms

· Active voice

· Alternative analysis

· Argument

· Articulate

· Basic intelligence

· Bottom line up front (BLUF)

· Confidence levels

· National Intelligence Estimate (NIE)

· One-time briefing

· President’s Daily Brief (PDB)

· Recurring briefing

· Revision

· Credibility

· Daily intelligence

· Estimative intelligence

· Estimative language

· Flesch–Flesch Kincaid reading scales

· In-depth reports

· Judgments

· Speaking truth to power

· Strategic

· Tactical

· Title

· Topic sentence

· Warning intelligence

References

Agar, H. (1942). A time for greatness. New York: Little, Brown and Company.

Bensen, P. (2008, November 5). Obama to receive first daily intel briefing. CNN Politics. Retrieved December 28, 2011, from 

http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2008/11/05/obama-to-receive-first-daily-intel-briefing/

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Best, R. (2011). Intelligence estimates: How useful to Congress. Congressional Research Service. Retrieved December 17, 2011, from 

www.fas.org/sgp/crs/intel/RL33733

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Bruno, G., & Otterman, S. (2008, May 14). National Intelligence Estimates. Council on Foreign Relations. Retrieved December 28, 2011, from 

www.cfr.org/iraq/national-intelligence-estimates/p7758

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Grabo, C. (2002). Anticipating surprise: Analysis for strategic warning. Washington, D.C: Center for Strategic Intelligence Research, Joint Military Intelligence College.

Hulnick, A. (2006). What’s wrong with the intelligence cycle. In L. K. Johnson (Ed.), Strategic intelligence (pp. 959–979). Westport, CT: Praeger.

King, S. (2000). On writing: A memoir of the craft. New York: Scribner.

Lamott, A. (1994). Bird by bird: Some instructions on writing and life. New York: Anchor.

Major, J. (2008). Communicating with intelligence: Writing and briefing in the intelligence and national security communities. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press.

National Intelligence Council. (2002). Iraq’s continuing programs for weapons of mass destruction. Retrieved December 17, 2011, from 

www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB129/nie

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National Intelligence Council. (2007). Iran: Nuclear intentions and capabilities. Retrieved November 22, 2016, from 

www.dni.gov/files/documents/Newsroom/Reports%20and%20Pubs/20071203_release

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National Security Agency. (1981, Winter). National intelligence warning: The alert memorandum. Cryptologic Spectrum, 13–15.

Retrieved November 22, 2016, from 

www.nsa.gov/news-features/declassified-documents/cryptologic-spectrum/assets/files/national_intell_warning

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Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. (2004). Report on the US intelligence community’s prewar intelligence assessments on Iraq. Retrieved November 22, 2016, from 

http://nsarchive.gwu.edu/NSAEBB/NSAEBB234/SSCI_phaseI_excerpt

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Strunk, W., & White, E. B. (2000). The elements of style. 4th ed. New York: Longman.

Additional Readings

Faigley, L. (2003). The brief Penguin handbook. New York: Longman.

Shosky, J. (2011). Speaking to lead: How to make speeches that make a difference. Colorado Springs, CO: Dialogue.

Zinsser, W. (2006). On writing well, 30th Anniversary edition: The classic guide to writing nonfiction. New York: Harper Perennial.