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Piloting is a trade. Aviation is a profession—especially in the context of a Navy career.
The
So, let’s focus on another secret of goal setting
tional security through the application of emerging aVia
als
everyone will have different goals. But by defining g°‘ in this way, you have the satisfaction of repeated or c011 tinuous achievement and continuous challenge. Su goals can be carried into a follow-on career and even >n
This is about naval aviators, especially carrier aviators, more than it is about aviator retention. But like many other things that we don’t notice until they are broken, the aviator retention problem may be an indication that we aviators need some fresh insight.
In the early 1980s, the cumulative continuation rate for naval aviators was about 55%. By 1988, it had dropped to 34% against a requirement of about 45%. During the same period, the Air Force’s rate dropped from 78 to 43% against a required 60%. Increased hiring of pilots by the airlines from about 2,100 in 1983 to 6,683 in 1988 is usually given as the reason. These hiring rates exceed the combined pilot training rates of the services, but they may not be the main reason for the Navy’s aviator retention problem. Correlation is a necessary but not sufficient condition to prove a cause-effect relationship. I think that things such as commercial airline hiring create only the opportunity for a decision to leave the Navy. They don’t cause the decision to be made—any more than do long lines at the commissary.
I think the complex problem of aviator personnel management has a great deal to do with the system in which the aviator lives—how he sees what he does, how he sets his goals, and what he values. My objective is to contribute to the naval aviator’s understanding of himself.
“Piloting” is operating the controls of an aircraft, taking it from A to B. “Aviation” is the sum of the art and science of operating aircraft, including all the elements of piloting. Aviation includes the maintenance and employment of aircraft, organization, mission development, tactics, aerodynamics, management, and more. Piloting is a trade. Aviation is a profession—especially in the context of a Navy career. Whether you see yourself as a pilot or as an aviator can make a big difference in what you do with the rest of your life, and how comfortable you are with that. (The Air Force calls its aviators “pilots,” but that’s largely a matter of tradition.)
When Lieutenant Commander Bill Watson was interviewed in the winter, 1988 issue of Wings of Gold, he sounded like a talented and hard-working naval aviator. A few years ago, he began thinking about leaving the Navy. “I did not like what I foresaw as my career potential after a tour as squadron commanding officer . . . ” In the same article, Lieutenant Commander Larry Traynor, another sharp naval aviator, asked, “What do I have to look forward to the rest of my career?” These questions are rooted as much in the aviator as they are in his environment.
Some of you may have wanted to be a “Navy fighter pilot” since you were 12; if so, you are probably the exception. That goal may be very appropriate to a 12-year- old who just finished watching Top Gun, but is it a useful long-range-goal statement for a 45-year-old, or even a 25- year-old?
The problem revolves around the way we define our goals. If you didn’t target wings of gold, you wouldn’t be wearing them. But being a naval aviator isn’t an end, it’s a means. It has to do with the quality of the ride rather than the destination. There is nothing wrong with wanting to go first class, but we shouldn’t confuse it with where we’re going or why. How do you define success? You want to
screen for squadron commanding officer. You want to make a million dollars by the time you are 40. You want ° get a thousand carrier landings. You want to make admi ral. You want to be chief executive officer of a major corporation. Those are laudable achievements. But trouble with stating goals or defining success in these terms is that hard questions will remain unanswered. s that all there is? What’s next? These are questions for1 e amusement park, but not about your life!
The secret is to define goals that are worthy of y°u talents, which can be attained repeatedly or—better yet-" continuously. If you think your talents extend only to y°u hand-eye coordination and your ability to track a bog ; across the sun, you are selling yourself short. If the Na J didn’t think more of you than that, you wouldn’t ha your wings. Alternatively, aviators wouldn’t have com missions.
truly useful goals are ones that are never fully attained-'' but are always being approached. Such goals mark professional; the man or woman of service. The listeI’ could tell from his inaugural address that President Georg Bush, despite having attained wealth, fame, and the hig^ est elected office, defines success in terms of being able serve ever more effectively and ever more broadly- doubt he got that just from being a naval aviator, but 1 sure the experience fits in somewhere.)
Goals I’m thinking of might be “to influence eV larger numbers of young people toward more useful h ' in the service of their families, communities, and coun try.” Or perhaps “to become a force for improved na tion-related technologies.” Or “to influence P°'‘^Qr various levels toward enhanced justice and security. j “to enhance national defense through improved technic training, systems employment, equipment maintenancCj or personnel management.” At this point, the manager1 psychologist would accuse me of defining some eleme of my profession as my goals. Bingo\ Isn’t that what PreSl dent Bush did? But it is more than that. These goals ar elements of the profession cast in the largest possible con text with the intent of continued improvement. Of course-
retirement. ..
Your designation as a naval aviator is both a qualif tion and an opportunity to pursue grand and noble g°a ' Sooner or later, your flying days will end. At that po,a ' will you be asking, “Is that all there is? What’s next? will you look at your fleet squadron time as an excitu1-
Part of the ride that gave you opportunities and qualifica- 10ns to pursue your lifetime goals—ones that would make a mother proud?
Aviators may be leaders or followers as the situation Squires, but most of all they are controllers. I doubt they are more risk-prone or risk-averse than any other group, ather, they measure and control risk and have a sense at they are masters of their environment. This explains they are not merely pilots and why this sense of con
trol
the
The person who said 'anything worth doing is worth doing right' lied. Most things are only worth doing well enough, and many aren't worth doing at all.
extends as much to what they do on the ground as in air. To say that they have a special set of physical, toteliectual, and emotional traits is not arrogance. They are screened prior to the start of training for certain traits at will help ensure success within the prescribed pro-
frartl- This process merely screens in the traits of the controller.
. ^hen aviators sense they are losing control of their en- V|tonment or destiny, they fight the system (sometimes in strange ways), or leave it—or both. Since they are smart Pe°Ple who can and do look ahead, many leave early be- aause they can see a loss of control approaching (although hey Wouldn’t call it that). My hypothesis, offered without Proof, js that the very SyStem which selects aviators tends 0 ensure short careers for them, not so much because of Marketable skills, but because of psychology.
There are problems with post-command assignments, he naval aviator has already come to terms with risks to lIS life, but putting one’s career and reputation in the ands of an unknown 19-year-old sailor in the forward Parrip room of an amphibious assault ship is incomprehen- S|ole! it seems like “out of control flight” . . . only *°rse. There’s no recovery procedure. Our surface war- are brethren talk about knowing a ship and being able to 6el the ship and develop a sense of oneness with the ship aad crew. What they say is true. But I’ve commanded a M'P, and it is not the same. The aviation squadron is spe- C|al and different. You can reproduce only some elements the squadron in other areas of the Navy and, to a lesser eStee, in the market place. There isn’t the same sense of tontrol. That isn’t bad. What is bad is failing to adjust to e new environment—or running from it.
Many of us have observed that as one progresses in the naval profession control seems to diminish while influence pCenis to increase. This is probably a truism. Look at the tosident. He controls almost nothing, but influences al- >t everything. President Harry Truman once said, ^°or Ike. He was General of the Army, and when he said s°toething people jumped. Now he is going to be Presi- ent of the United States, and when he says something not a §oddamned thing is going to happen!”
The junior naval aviator frequently sees his squadron Mates ordered to positions he doesn’t understand and isn’t Mre he would like. That can be solved with education and eadership. But he sometimes sees the air wing commander, the ship’s captain, and even the admiral frus- rated, tired, and overworked, and it bothers him. Perhaps ae controller has trouble understanding experienced lead- tor whom trust, organization, and influence have replaced direct personal control. Of course, the tasks are Mcreasingly important and difficult, and the systems that will execute them are increasingly complex. So the frustrations and fatigue are rooted in the reality of the world. To shrink from that reality is to deny your potential. I’m not saying that leaving the service amounts to running from reality. The solving of increasingly difficult and important problems in any walk of life involves frustrations and fatigue. But to run from those kinds of problems is to run from the joy that comes from making the impossible seem easy despite difficulties. Change is inevitable because combat flying is a young person’s work. But you can continue to achieve your life’s goals in the context of naval aviation long after you can no longer pass your annual flight physical.
In formulating long-term goals and making career decisions, the naval aviator needs and deserves some support from the system that needs him. The leadership knows this and has been trying hard to answer the call. Of course, ten different aviators will produce ten different sets of additional ways that the system could help. My few unstaffed ideas and opinions run the risk of having already been considered, but here they are.
► Minimize instability—it’s antithetical to control. The 1987 officer separation questionnaire results show that the top four dissatisfiers for aviators relate to their perceived difficulties in controlling their personal and professional lives. These four are: too much crisis management, too much family separation, problems with assignment and detailing, and inability to plan and control a career.
First, to the extent possible, stabilize the career path. Second, don’t force the aviator into a mold. These are not contradictory. The aviator needs to feel that he has some control over his destiny while being confident of predictability in his career environment. He must understand that although the requirements are somewhat rigid, special skills and top performance can lead to special cases if he choose to take advantage of them. This idea isn’t new, but it probably needs some visibility and understanding.
► Detail from personal knowledge. Those who know the junior aviator best should have a direct say in his future assignments. The reporting senior normally recommends future assignments in the officer’s fitness report but this procedure is inadequate and not always well used. The squadron commanding officer (CO) should comment on and initial the junior officer’s preference card following a private meeting with the officer. To be effective, COs would have to be informed about trends in requirements and career options in general; most already are. The de- tailer who is in agreement with the CO, but against the wishes of the officer to be assigned, will certainly be on firmer ground. But when the detailer is against the CO, a
The loudest voice in most things from tactics to training requirements to personnel issues and command screening should be that of the air wing commander.
Although the benefits of added education are obvious, not everyone wants or needs to be forced through yet aa other wicket. These educational opportunities should e seen as career-enhancing, but optional. After a difhc tour of sea duty, the officer’s greatest need for both t short and long term might be a chance to get his person life under control. Having one’s personal and professio lives out of balance is like “unbalanced flight.” It may & you there, but it doesn’t feel right—or even look right- ^ some point, we all need to take a deep breath before dive in again. ..
► Concentrate on what’s important. The person who s “anything worth doing is worth doing right” lied. M things are only worth doing well enough, and many area worth doing at all. The few things remaining are w° doing perfectly. The tough part is to figure out what th few things are. The enthusiastic boss who assigns eve j task as if it’s life-or-death doesn’t help. You must sort out for yourself, but the leadership should help- n world were simple, the bottom line would always “weapons on target.” But it isn’t. “Weapons on target
is the entry fee. To treat it as any more or less,
warning flag is raised. Even if this procedure is of little value in detailing, it could be an effective leadership tool. ► Don’t eat your seed corn. In World War II, the Japanese ran out of pilots before they ran out of aircraft and carriers. Can we do that to ourselves in peacetime? By not preserving balanced career options for junior aviators, we are undermining future leadership, making the career decision less likely to benefit the Navy, and ensuring that those who do choose to stay are less competitive in the long run. In the April 1989 issue of Armed Forces Journal International, Vice Admiral J. M. Boorda said,
“When you have a pilot shortage, the one thing that is not going to change is squadron requirements, the operational requirements that we’re going to fill first. . . . You’re also going to send a lot of people back down to the training command to teach the new men and women who are coming along. As a result, we have trouble sending people off to postgraduate school or to ... . tours on staffs or joint assignments.”
These comments reflect long-standing and sound priorities as well as the concern for the need to develop an experience base for future leadership positions. Graduate school and staff tours are broadening, adding to an aviator’s qualifications and enabling more enlightened goalsetting. Just as filling a cockpit meets the needs of the Navy in a vital and immediate way, educational and staff tours meet its needs in a critical, long-term way.
Junior aviators who would like to pursue educational opportunities should be helped by their commands and the “system.” Qualified officers, when detailed to shore duty, could be simultaneously detailed to a local university for graduate education at Navy expense. Training command COs and senior staff officers would ensure that the young aviator’s schedule considers his education program and further ensure that he is not penalized in his fitness report for dividing his energies. Of course, there would be an added service obligation.
Despite the interference of real-world operations and maintenance requirements, a good rule is: When not in command or at war an officer should be training or learning. Aviators who can be detached early from their current assignments or who are assigned to ships in extended maintenance could be detailed to a segment of whatever service college course could take them. This must be done in a way that is not painful to the aviator. Short-term inconvenience to the commands should give way to the longer-term need. Of course, there is added cost. But it should be no harder to justify than the aviation bonus.
sends
mixed signals to the aviator and makes him wonder abou‘ the stability of the leadership’s long-range goals. Furtn more, we do so well at hands-on controlling that there the danger of crisis management that stems from neg>e of thoughtful prioritization and careful planning. Succe ^ even in combat, is more dependent on planning than controlling.
► Focus on the pointy end of the spear, but check }° , six. Support makes winning possible. But even thoug poor support can lose a war, good support alone can ne win one. The loudest voice in most things from tactics training requirements to personnel issues and comma screening should be that of the air wing commander, » isn’t up to it, the whole process is flawed. Loyalties tered by aircraft type are no longer useful—if they e were. The carrier air wing is the fighting unit, and the wing commander is its moral and statutory leader. L°y ties should go first to the fighting unit and not to the sUj^ port establishment. If doing this right means the burden ^ greater presence by air wing commanders on the comm3 screening boards, it would be worth it. -s
I’ve heard it said that the most important task in peace . to see that the right people are in place when the starts. Fortunately, we start each year with the best posS ble raw materials for that task. They hold the grea!C promise for success. Naval aviation is a wonderful Pr0 sion. You may try to leave it, but you’ll never forge1 ' It’s part of you. ,
Yes, Viper, there is life after squadron command. 1 real. It involves a transition. It may be difficult to und stand at first. But it is exciting and rewarding, and you c do it every bit as well as you can fly an airplane and run squadron.
Captain Cebrowski (whose call sign was Viper before they filmed Gun) has flown F-4s and F-14s with Fighter Squadrons (VF)-l 1 an“ r and commanded VF-41 on board the USS Nimitz (CVN-68). He 3 commanded Carrier Air Wing Eight and the USS Guam (LPH-9)-
1989