I first fell down the radio rabbit hole through Call of Duty, then hiking with friends, then birding expeditions where you need to quickly tell someone "hey I'm over here" or "look over there at that thing" without scaring away the wildlife. It's part of spending time in the woods, having adventures—the need to communicate in places where there's no cell service. And even if there were, you want to save your battery and keep your spirit present in the moment.
There's something more real about radios compared to digital phones. Not to get too woo-woo, but they feel more grounded in physical reality, more immediate. A technology that lets you talk over vibrations. When you key up a radio, you're broadcasting magical electromagnetic waves through the air.
But here's what really got me: watching how the best-performing teams communicate. Whether it's in Squad, emergency services, or military operations, there's this universal language that transcends cultures and industries. There is a universal discipline to triage information, to distill complex thoughts into an economy of words that can be transmitted and understood under pressure.
Good Radio vs Bad Radio: Lessons from Squad
Good radio discipline isn't just about saying everything as quickly as possible. The best-performing teams are constantly in dialogue—relaying what they see, what their plan of action is, being extremely precise in their wording with each other. But keeping team morale up with jokes and banter is just as important as having the discipline to shut up when someone calls to clear comms.
You can tell within minutes which Squad team is going to win and which is going to get massacred, just by listening to their radio chatter:
Bad radio: Dead air for five minutes, then suddenly everyone talking over each other when contact is made. "CONTACT CONTACT!" "WHERE?" "I'M DOWN!" "SOMEONE REVIVE ME!" "WHERE ARE YOU?" "GET TO THE TRUCK" "ITS NOT THERE ANYMORE, OH WAIT I FOUND IT" Pure chaos. No situational awareness, no coordination, no leadership.
Good radio: Constant flow of useful information. "Enemy squad moving north through the trees… 200 meters from our position." "Copy that, I have eyes on them from overwatch." "Medic moving to your position, ETA 30 seconds." "Roger, holding position." "Movement are you 2 o'clock" "Got it"
The difference is night and day. Good radio creates a shared mental map of the battlefield. Everyone knows where everyone else is, what they're doing, what the plan is. Bad radio gets people killed.
Radio Discipline in the Wild: Discord, Newsrooms, and Bear Encounters
Here's where it gets interesting: Discord calls follow the exact same patterns, especially when shit gets serious. Newsrooms operate like this too—if you're going to say something out loud, you know everyone is listening, so you damn well better know your shit. Say it as quickly as possible, to only the extent you know it, and include everything that needs to be known without a bunch of follow-up questions.
Compare these two scenarios:
Bad communication: "I saw a bear!" "Where?" "Over there." "To the left? How far?" "I don't know, 10 feet?" "What direction was it moving?" (This is unbearable.)
Good communication: "Black bear, 30 meters northeast of camp, moving away from us toward the creek."
Same information, but one version creates panic and confusion while the other gives everyone exactly what they need to know in five seconds. The US government has spent millions studying this stuff, and a lot of that knowledge has escaped into the wild. We'd be stupid not to learn from it.
The Sub-Skills: Why You Need to Practice Being Calm
Good radio communication relies on foundational skills that most people never think about. Always knowing your cardinal directions, for example. Living in the Hudson Valley makes this easier—the river runs north-south, so you always have a natural reference point. But I am finding that most people panic if you asked them to quickly orient themselves.
These skills become absolutely critical during protests, civil unrest, storms, and other disasters. Communication devices are low on battery. People are nervous and distracted. Your window to communicate might be seconds, not minutes. Being able to stay calm and rely on pre-existing systems will dramatically improve how information flows—but it needs to be prepared for, like any other skill.
"Just talking" without practice during a crisis will end terribly. It's like expecting to perform CPR effectively just because you've seen it in movies.
From Simulation to Reality: Why Gaming Skills Transfer
We actually see this proven out across multiple domains. Airsofters can simulate scenarios and get faster shot placement times. FPV drone pilots spend 100+ hours in simulators before ever flying in real life—everyone in the FPV subreddit recommends getting at least a couple dozen simulated hours with your real controller before touching actual hardware.
These little drills we practice, the games we play in our off-time, can genuinely prepare us for uncertainty. This is, in fact, the most ancient and core purpose of gaming. Anthropologists have documented how traditional games across cultures serve as training for hunting, warfare, and survival skills.
The same principles apply to communication drills. Every time you coordinate a complex raid in an MMO or call out enemy positions in Squad, you're practicing information triage, situational awareness, and calm communication under stress.
Take, for example, the "over and out" phrase commonly used in radio communication. It's a term that has been adopted globally, from air traffic controllers in Tokyo to fishermen off the coast of Maine. The phrase encapsulates the essence of radio communication—clarity, brevity, and finality—all in just three syllables. It's a linguistic marvel that has stood the test of time, proving that when it comes to radio, less is often more.
I remember listening to GMRS radio on Lake George, and hearing a female voice sign off over the radio: "Over and out, good buddy" – a gruff voice on the other end responses "I'm not your buddy", to which she cheerfully replied "Over and out good hubby!"
The universality of radio isn't just about shared phrases or codes; it's about the human instinct for efficient communication. This is evident in the way radio codes have evolved independently yet share striking similarities. Whether it's the 10-codes used by American police forces or the Q-codes that are the lingua franca of ham radio operators worldwide, the underlying principles are the same: triage information and convey it as succinctly as possible.
Interestingly, this culture of coded language has found a new home in the digital age. Platforms like Discord, popular among younger generations, have become the modern-day equivalents of radio channels or the old party lines I'd call into as a bratty teenager. Here, users employ a blend of shorthand phrases, emojis, and even voice chat to communicate with a level of efficiency that would make any seasoned radio operator proud.
In the end, the universal language of radio is more than a set of codes or phrases; it's a testament to our collective need for connection and understanding. It's a language that continues to evolve, yet its core principles remain unchanged: be clear, be concise, and be heard.
How to Actually Practice This
You can explore ham radio and its eccentric way of speaking, or study the machismo 10-codes of police, or dive into the abbreviation and jargon-heavy comms of the military. But I think the real practice comes from focusing on the moments in your life when critical communication actually matters, and intentionally working to better yourself in those moments.
Ask yourself: Could I have been more precise? Is there more information I could have included up front? If people are asking follow-ups all the time, are there ways I could include that information from the start?
Here's a real example: I was on a motorcycle ride with a buddy, letting him know when turns were coming up. I had to ask him to confirm he'd heard me with a "copy"—not for cosplay or military LARPing, but for my actual safety. I needed to know the communication was complete so I wasn't constantly checking mirrors and could focus on the road ahead.
The principles are simple:
- Be specific: "Turn right in 200 meters" not "turn coming up"
- Include as much context as necessary: "Black bear, 30 meters northeast, moving away" not "I saw a bear"
- Confirm receipt: Wait for "copy" or "roger" before assuming the message got through
- Stay calm: Practice delivering critical information in a level tone, even under pressure
Start noticing these opportunities in your daily life. Group hiking trips. Coordinating dinner plans. Even work meetings. The goal isn't to sound like a Navy SEAL—it's to communicate more effectively when it actually matters.
Because when the lights go out, the cell towers fail, or someone's actually in danger, you'll be glad you practiced being clear, concise, and heard.