Former CIA Senior Intelligence Officer and International Chief of 

WMD Counter Proliferation Special Activities Unit; Author, Noted 

Speaker on Government Insider Threat

b. 1951

As the seasons changed, James Lawler never gave up hope. He was patiently waiting, yet meticulously calculating his next angle—one that would finally open the doors and grant him access to highly elusive government files. His target asset, a top-level secretary to an administration in the Middle East, had the power to obtain, release and expose her country’s secrets. 

But she didn’t have the courage to do it. Not just yet. 

She told Lawler she was torn between betraying her country and doing what she knew in her heart was for the greater good. 

“I was, of course, emotionally manipulating her to an extent, but I didn’t want her to talk herself into this unless she really wanted to do it,” Lawler said. “I didn’t want to pressure her. I wanted her to want it.”

Within the CIA, Lawler, a senior intelligence officer, was widely known as the Soul Catcher—a man who could go into the depths of someone’s being and capture the deepest of their secrets. Through discipline, principles and a profound understanding of human behavior, he was able to elicit information that escaped so many others. 

“I can see flaws in people just the way I can see pure beauty and pure perfection in people as well,” Lawler said. “I can affect a link with somebody and really cause them to do what I want them to do. When I’m controlling it, there’s nothing else in the world that exists but that person and me.” 

But would this be the connection that eluded him? Would the woman turn her back on Lawler? Would the Soul Catcher have to do something he’d never done—give up?

Long ago, Lawler had learned not to look too far ahead. He knew that to break any problem into manageable parts, he needed to turn to the old saying: A journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step. It was a mantra that had been instilled in him as a long-distance runner and evolved during many life challenges, including a near-fatal bicycle accident in 1991 in Bavaria, Germany. He’d cracked five ribs, punctured a lung and suffered multiple contusions and a broken shoulder blade. A doctor told him he’d never seen anyone outside of a traumatic car accident with injuries so severe.

Lawler knew it would be grueling work to get back on his feet. He wanted to run again, to get back to the miles of distance he relied on to work through his stress, but embarking on the journey to recovery had to start with that first step. Breaking it down into portions made the transition smoother as he started to see the light ahead. 

“You just have to take that first step and not be thinking about the whole thousand miles,” he said. “You’ve got to get going. If you look at the whole problem, you’ll be overwhelmed. If you don’t get going now, you’ll never get to the end.”

Lawler used this same technique in his Middle East intelligence operation. While he could see the light awaiting the woman, he had to devise a way to get her to recognize and believe in it as well—every step of the way. To do so, he combined his mantra with his deeply ingrained belief in the power of trust. Protecting his sources was his most sacred obligation, and rarely were his assets compromised. Again and again, he gave the woman his word. He swore to protect her.

“I once had a senior officer tell me, ‘Jim, you don’t really think you’re helping these people do you?’ And I said, ‘Larry, if I didn’t think I was helping them I couldn’t do this morally,’” Lawler said. “It’s a lonely thing for a lot of these assets. They’re at the pointy end of the spear. As a handling officer, you’ve got to make them feel like they’re protected. They need to know we’re willing to go to hell and back to get them out of trouble and make sure that they don’t get themselves in trouble.”

He also tapped into what had proven to be perhaps his greatest strength. 

“I do not give up,” he said. “I am persistent. It annoys some people because I’m so persistent. I think I was born that way. It could be from my dad. My dad was very persistent with his struggles. He had started his own business, just worked and worked his rear end off. I guess I got a lot of that from him. I’m not going to give up—I’m going to keep coming.”

And that’s exactly what he did. He kept at it with the woman in the Middle East. He found new angles. With stress and pressure mounting, he knew had to tread lightly. This was a country where meetings could only occur outside for both of their safety. But he wasn’t going to quit.

“I know this sounds trite,” he said, “but I carry around with me a quotation from that Simon and Garfunkel song, The Boxer. That song means a lot to me. The end of the song says: In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade, and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him ’til he cried out, in his anger and his shame, ‘I’m leaving, I’m leaving,’ but the fighter still remains. I’ve thought, I’ve been beaten to the ground and I’m going to leave, I’m going to quit, but I didn’t. I stayed there.”

And as they so often did, Lawler’s tactics—and persistence—worked. Lawler got the woman to take that first step and join him on a journey that ultimately went on for thousands of miles across international borders. She stayed a CIA asset for years, and Lawler was true to his word: Years later, others from her country were arrested for spying, but she was never compromised. 

Lawler shows us that if we want to have success with others, we need to realize that the journey ahead may be long. Relationships must be cultivated through honorable intentions and deliberate, well-paced steps. You must be willing to walk side by side with that person, to understand their challenges and fears, and to not push just to meet your own needs. You need to show that person that you won’t give up, and that you’ll do whatever it takes not only for yourself—but also for them. 

Once you’re worthy of someone’s trust, they’ll be willing to take that first step with you.