In intelligence work, there are limits to the amount of

In the measured and solemn words of Gijs de Vries, a statesman and guardian of European security, we are reminded of a truth both ancient and perilous: “In intelligence work, there are limits to the amount of information one can share. Confidentiality is essential.” At first glance, these words appear as a mere statement of protocol — the dry rule of bureaucrats and spies. But beneath their calm surface lies a principle as old as war and as profound as trust itself. For in every age, those who guard knowledge stand upon a razor’s edge, balancing between the power that truth grants and the destruction that truth, unguarded, can bring.

The origin of this quote lies in de Vries’s tenure as the European Union Counter-Terrorism Coordinator, a role that demanded not only intellect, but wisdom. In the wake of global unrest and shadowed threats, he understood that the exchange of intelligence — the secret lifeblood of nations — required not abundance, but restraint. Too much disclosure, and enemies adapt; too little, and allies falter. Thus, his words became a creed for all who operate in the unseen realms of security and diplomacy: “Confidentiality is essential.” For the protection of peace often depends not on what is said, but on what is kept silent.

To speak of intelligence work is to speak of the art of silence — of the hidden networks, coded words, and invisible alliances that guard the fragile world from chaos. It is a calling that demands discipline greater than courage, for the true soldier of intelligence must fight the impulse to reveal what he knows. Knowledge is his weapon, but it is also his burden. De Vries understood that a secret once spoken is a seed released to the winds — it cannot be gathered again. Thus, the wise in such work must master not only the science of discovery but the virtue of discretion.

History reveals the sacred necessity of this principle. Consider the tale of the Allied codebreakers of World War II, who at Bletchley Park unraveled the German Enigma code. Their triumph, born of intellect and perseverance, shortened the war and saved countless lives. Yet for decades, their achievement was buried in secrecy. They were forbidden even to tell their families of their service. Some died unacknowledged, their glory hidden behind the veil of confidentiality. And yet, that silence — that self-denial — was their greatest heroism. For had the secret been exposed too soon, the enemy would have changed their codes, and victory would have turned to ashes. In that silence lived salvation.

But de Vries’s wisdom reaches beyond the world of espionage and statecraft. It speaks to the moral dimension of trust and responsibility in every human life. There are times when knowledge, though precious, must be guarded — when the careless word can wound, the reckless truth can betray. The wise do not speak all they know, nor do they boast of what others confide. In friendship, in leadership, in love — confidentiality is the thread that binds trust. To share without discernment is to cast pearls before the tide; to guard what is sacred is to preserve harmony and respect.

Yet let this truth not be misunderstood. De Vries does not praise secrecy for its own sake. Silence can protect, but it can also conceal injustice. There are moments when truth must be spoken, when confidentiality must yield to conscience — when to stay silent is to be complicit in evil. The art lies in discernment: knowing when silence serves peace, and when it serves oppression. This is the eternal test of wisdom — to guard without deceiving, to speak without betraying, to protect without hiding from truth itself.

Therefore, O seeker of wisdom and bearer of knowledge, take this lesson to heart: use your words as a healer, not a weapon. Speak when your speech brings light, and be silent when your silence preserves life. Guard what is entrusted to you, for secrets are not possessions but responsibilities. In a world hungry for revelation, learn the nobility of discretion. For in the age of open mouths and restless tongues, the one who knows when to hold his peace is a fortress unto himself.

And so, as Gijs de Vries reminds us, “Confidentiality is essential” — not only in the corridors of power, but in the soul of every person who understands the weight of trust. The world is sustained not by those who shout their knowledge, but by those who keep faith in quiet dignity. Be, then, both wise and cautious: a guardian of truth, a keeper of confidence, and a servant of peace. For the strength of nations — and of souls — lies not only in what is known, but in what is rightly kept.