As the wisest owl in the woods, Eddie Jones understands that the surest way to find out the All Blacks' frailties is through their minds.
Years from now, his Rugby World Cup press conferences should be screened at MI6 as training aids in psychological warfare. New Zealand, he knows, is a country where even gentle criticism of the haka can attract attention on the evening news.
As such, he chooses his targets deftly. Kiwi rugby reporters? "Fans with keyboards." The pressure of being defending champions? "It'll be chasing them down the street."
His words are so dense with mischief, one almost forgets the fact that he has just described Kieran Read as "probably their greatest captain", in what appears a calculated snub to Richie McCaw.
Jones grasps a vital truth that while England's opponents on Saturday might be terrifying on the pitch, they are terrifyingly thin-skinned off it.
That much was evident in the chilling stare from star lock Brodie Retallick, when reminded this week of an episode in 2014, when he mistakenly called Courtney Lawes "Michael Laws", after the former mayor of Whanganui. "Is that supposed to be humorous? Yeah, I confused him with a New Zealand politician. Good on ya."
Retallick, never a man destined for the stand-up comedy circuit, appeared wrong-footed by the unusual line of inquiry. Perhaps Jones was right when he told the All Blacks press corps, with a glint in his eye:
"Someone has to ask questions, mate – because the New Zealand media doesn't." If you suspect a hint of ennui in his remarks about the men in black, you would be right. As a head coach, he has an impressive record of upsetting his trans-Tasman brethren: while in charge of Australia, he played them 11 times and won five.
To judge by the solitary single-point defeat of his England tenure, the margins this weekend are closer still. There is no time like the present, he realises, to engineer a decisive shift in rugby's balance of power.
For the sake of the sport, an England triumph is the only result worth backing in Yokohama. This is not to be jingoistic, but merely to acknowledge that New Zealand's dominance has become a staid phenomenon.
Anthony Watson has plainly had enough of the All Blacks' mystique – "I've never bought into the whole aura," the wing said – and so should everybody else.
Many sports fight against the notion of an all-powerful dynasty, whether through draft systems or salary caps, but the dead hand of Kiwi supremacy has long been accepted in rugby as a natural piece of the equation.
England's chance in this semifinal is to subvert such logic.
Could it be that rarest of moments, where the other home nations concede, albeit tacitly, that an English victory would not be such an awful outcome?
The Welsh might harbour a soft spot for Steve Hansen, given he presided over 30 of their matches 15 years ago, but surely they would instinctively prefer a final against England, an occasion that for atmosphere would represent the Six Nations squared.
Even the Scots have no earthly reason to root for New Zealand, who have once again snubbed them for mid-year touring opportunities. After the confirmation of a Wales tour of the nation in 2020, and Ireland in 2022, it will be at least 24 years without Scotland being able to compete in the land of the long white cloud.
Increasingly, rugby is polarising into a battle of the hemispheres. England's glory in 2003 remains the only World Cup triumph by a northern hemisphere team in eight instalments, and there is a clear restlessness in camp to change the record.
Already, vast strides have been made since 2015, when the last four of England's home tournament turned into an all-SANZAAR affair. Among the northern sides, the improvements in attacking fluency and handling skills have been stark, while Wales and Ireland have each held the world No 1 ranking this year.
But if there is a dwindling divide, there remains a level of north-south tension. Hansen has done his best to stoke it, grouching about England's failure to engage with a global rugby calendar and thus depriving fans of any genuine rivalry with the All Blacks.
"We have played England once in the last six years, and it's hard to build a rivalry when you don't play each other," he said. "If we could get the Six Nations to come on board with a global season, then we might be able to do that. Once they do it, they're starting to think about the game rather than themselves."
Hansen's gripes would be easier to take, however, if he was more candid about his own union's self-interest. A crucial reason why England-All Blacks clashes at Twickenham have been so infrequent in recent years is that New Zealand demand up to £3 million for the privilege.
In 2016, they even agitated for a share of the gate receipts, only to be laughed out of town by Ian Ritchie, then the RFU's chief executive.
"Go and build a bigger stadium," he told them. As for being "global", New Zealand have been as late to the party as any other Tier One nation, only belatedly agreeing to take the All Blacks to the Pacific islands.
On Saturday morning, the drumbeat of provocation will give way to a thunderous spectacle of rugby.
England versus New Zealand, 2019: It will define Jones' entire reign, just as it will mark a critical staging post for the all-conquering Kiwis. For the best part of a decade, they have deserved every bit of their pre-eminence.
But on Saturday they are crying out, to tone down Sir Alex Ferguson's old line about Liverpool, to be knocked off their infernal perch.