Adventures of a Well-Meaning Idiot

Not everyone trying to get into your activism group is an informant. Sometimes, they're just dumb.

Back when I was just getting into preparedness, long before I got into the countertelligence field, I had started a small food storage in an unused closet. I knew nothing about the topic but was determined to have a ‘backup plan.’

I made a lot of mistakes; after one grocery trip, I put two bags of pasta and a box of Minute Rice on the shelf, immensely proud that I had ‘officially started.’

If you know anything about food storage, you’re shaking your head—and I get why. At the time, however, I was just happy that I was doing something.

As I got more into both preparedness and political activism, I started looking online to find people like me. There was no shortage of websites and bulletin board-style places to find like-minded folks, and I applied to all sorts of groups that were advertising, giving them whatever information they wanted about me. Name? Sure. Skills? Oh, here, let me send you a resume.

One group grabbed me immediately with their ad:

Seeking like-minded, well-prepared people to join established group. Prior military preferred. Vetting will be done.

With my finger poised over the Reply button, I mentally went down their checklist. (I am ashamed to admit any of this, but it’s for educational purposes.)

• I had a whole shelf of food in my closet now, so I was well-prepared.

• I had recently purchased a 1911 pistol and a bunch of ammo, so I was good there too.

• I was prior military, so I met that condition.

I was exactly what they were looking for, obviously.¹ I sent off my application and went about my day, certain that they would be in touch…and they were.

In an email that seemed very weirdly cloak-and-dagger, I was given a choice of four locations at which to meet, spanning a 30-mile radius. I chose the Starbucks that was a mile from my house.

When I arrived, ten minutes early, I parked immediately outside the door and walked in to find that the person I was supposed to meet wasn’t there yet. I ordered some coffee and sat down to wait.

At exactly top of the hour, a man who had been sitting at a corner table the whole time got up, came over and sat down at my table.

“Hello, I’m John.”

He was friendly, engaging, and asked me questions in a conversational style. I thought I did really well, and as we closed the interview he said, “You know, I love that you’re really interested in all of this. Let me talk to the guys and I’ll shoot you an email.” I was incredibly excited; I had made it.

I sat there for a few minutes, watching him as he left. I waited to see if he was getting into a vehicle, but he didn’t; instead, he walked across the parking lot of the Starbucks and into the lot of the large strip mall. As I continued watching, he entered the Staples store. I figured he had errands to run, so I went out to my truck and started to leave. As I drove off, I saw him in the rearview, exiting the Staples and going into the sporting goods store next door, with empty hands. I saw him look at my truck for a second without pausing his walk.

That’s when it hit me. I had been vetted and found wanting. There would be no email. There would be no acceptance. I would never hear from this group again, and they would vanish into the landscape.

[If you’re counting up all the mistakes I’ve made so far in the story, then you already knew the ending.]

What’s more, I realized that I could not have even told you what he looked like. Aside from remembering that he had an OD green coat on, I remembered nothing about him. John wasn’t really his name, he had told me nothing about where his group was, who was in it, or what they actually did. He had my vehicle, my license plate, and all the answers to the questions he had asked me about my belief system, knowledge base, and skillset (and let’s be real; at that time I was heavy on beliefs and very light on skills and knowledge).

AWKWARD.

I was right—I never got an email. They’re a real group, they’re still operating, and I’ve talked to people in the years since then who know who they are. Why are they still operating safely and effectively? Probably because their vetting process is so brutally good. (I know I preach against the evils of recruiting online, but if you’re going to do it, do it this way).

For the price of a coffee and an hour of time, he had saved himself and his group some real headaches in the form of a twenty-something female who had all the passion and willingness to learn in the world—and was an absolute idiot who had no concept of OPSEC and would have gotten them in a lot of trouble. I didn’t mean to be a threat, but in my zeal to do something I absolutely was one. Kudos to him for recognizing it and not buying into the concept of bringing me on thinking I could learn it as I went.

This concept of doing something is a powerful one, and while passion comes with some amazing motivation, it also comes with a lot of danger. Political activism is incredibly dangerous (or at least, it can be) and a lot of folks who just want to do something can get in a lot of trouble—not because they are unmotivated or have ill intent, but because they simply don’t know better, and it comes out as practical idiocy.

I tell you this story in all its horrifyingly shameful glory because I’ve met a lot of people just like I was. They want to do something, they want to get involved, and they have no idea how. Or worse, they think they do know how—and they go about it all wrong.

I learned some valuable lessons in those early years, ones that I am still embarrassed about. Those lessons are part of why I know what I’m doing now, and why I’m so passionate about helping others learn them too.

Bonus points: How many mistakes did I make? Can you see them all?

1. It’s important to note that this group’s ad accomplished something fascinating. By stating that “vetting will be done,” they’ve sent some messages that are received by different people in different ways.

• People who seek validation because they have a low opinion of themselves, or those who are crippled by a fear of rejection may not apply at all.

• People who seek validation in competition because they have been taught that achievement=human value will be compelled to apply, if for no other reason than they need to ‘win’ a spot.

• People who don’t know what the vetting process entails, or who define it differently than this group does, will assume that they will pass.