Morale is low in naval aviation. The basic reason for this is the broken tool we use to select and promote our leadership—the fitness report.
Many naval aviators write their own fitness reports. They do not submit bulletized summaries of their accomplishments over the reporting period; in fact, they write the entire evaluation. Many commanding officers simply gather key members of the command to adjust comparative numerical ranking and polish the text. “No one reads the words on the back anyway—right?”
As Thomas Payne once wrote: “A long habit of not thinking something wrong gives it the superficial appearance of being right.” We have written our own evaluations for so long that weak rationalizations from the past have become today’s firm logical arguments. Block 35 of the new form asks how well the officer adheres to the Navy’s core values: honor, courage, commitment. Where is the honor in self-promotion? When an officer sets down his own accomplishments on paper for inclusion in the official record, should we call it anything else? Where is our moral courage and honesty when we fail to provide the Navy a clear picture of our officers’ strengths and weaknesses? Where is commitment and dedication to our Navy when we continue to accept and foster a system that places the needs of any individual’s career above the needs of the Navy? Writing our own fitness reports erodes the fundamentals of good morale—honor and integrity.
Navy fitness reports—both the old form and the new—discuss what the officer has done: new programs instituted, tasks accomplished, a quick block on aviation skills, and so on— plus obligatory comments about promotability. But nothing addresses fitness to serve or evaluates soundness of judgment or decision-making ability. It is hard to make these discerning assessments, of course, but that is what reporting seniors are paid to do.
The word “fitness” implies character—the quality that leads to efficient and dedicated service. If you don’t nourish the former, you won’t get the latter. This lack of attention to character is the main reason we are surprised time and again by the moral gaffes of those in senior positions—where an officer’s character is most visible. Watching our senior naval leaders being castigated publicly and relieved for cause with disturbing regularity erodes morale severely. Young officers still thirst for quality in character and leadership; they want heroes—heroes of substance.
In our fitness reporting today—as in war itself—truth is the first casualty. Any adverse comment on an officer’s evaluation can end a career in our competitive, careerist, zero-defect service. Few adverse comments are even seen, thus denying the Navy any routine means of assessing its officers’ weaknesses. Since it also is a given that fitness reports are grossly inflated, descriptions of officers’ strengths are suspect, as well. By necessity, the system has come to depend on cronyism and hearsay in assessing the relative fitness of officers. Simultaneously, this advances the institutional myth of an officer corps without weaknesses. Can widespread cynicism be far behind?
Officers are exhorted to work as a team; but then they are arrayed in competition against their own team members throughout our ranking system. This makes no sense—it goes against basic human nature. Comparing officers against one another is a relativistic approach, which undercuts the importance of absolutes such as character and a strong moral foundation. An officer may stand quite high in his group, but the Navy still may have no clue about his performance with regard to such absolutes. A system that measures its officers against such timeless standards will produce officers better able to deal with accelerating moral, military, and political changes. That we seem to find the changing world situation so difficult today is an indictment of our selection and promotion systems. We should know better our place in the world.
There are many convenient arguments for continuing with our current system, but they ring hollow. Our system may have created fine leaders in the past, but it also has created the perception that we are media-sensitive careerists. But more important, self-written fitreps are neither chopped by the chain of command nor are they good for teaching junior officers how to write evaluations. Rather, they tell junior officers that their seniors are too busy with more important business.
Recommendations:
- The leadership of naval aviation should end the practice of naval aviators writing their own fitness reports and should relieve any commanding officer who continues this practice. As individuals, naval aviators should refuse in good conscience to write their own evaluations on the ground that the practice is not in the best interests of the naval service.
- Make fitness reports relevant to the timeless standards of strong character and a strong moral foundation. Document an officer’s character, judgment, and decision-making ability.
- If we truly wish to create “a band of brothers,” stop ranking those brothers (and sisters) against each other. Use character, not relative standing, to fill our leadership positions with the strongest potential leaders.
- Make people a priority in reality. If the habit of attending to the press of daily business keeps commanders from spending the requisite time to accurately assess character traits, we’ll end up with the same pabulum and eye candy we have now.
- Obey the moral compass; eschew the political windsock. Promote officers who possess and demonstrate the fundamental moral and ethical character traits. These are the ones who often oppose the system, refusing to acquiesce to or accept “the way things are.” A German officer’s most valued fitness report comment—“this individual is a difficult subordinate”—is instructive. If we choose those who seek middle ground, we get mediocrity. If we choose those who fail to seek change and improvement, we stagnate and die.
- Make officers accountable for what they write. If an officer is found deficient in character, review the past fitness reports to see if earlier reporting seniors had discerned the weakness. If it has been documented, address the promotion board. If it hasn’t, question the reporting seniors’ discernment and judgment—officially, in writing, for their records.
We are not at a crossroads in naval aviation; we are well down a path historically trodden by failing military organizations. We exhibit the standard tendencies and symptoms: careerism, cronyism, inattention to the issues of personal character and moral courage, an inability to incorporate honest mistakes, an inability to field a balanced warfighting force, the erosion of special trust and confidence in our officer corps, and leadership detached from those they claim to lead.
There are some who feel things would be fine if we could just return to the way things were. Nothing could be more ill-advised. The world, the aircraft, the nature of war, technology, and the officer corps have all changed; either move forward or get run over.
Fixing our fitness report system will take no new forms or programs. It will take strong leadership to direct our eyes away from fancy aircraft, expensive technology, and budgetary concerns to the issues that concern our people: character, integrity, moral courage, doing what’s right, doing what’s best for the service—regardless of career consequences.
Plain talk? Not very tactful? You bet. Plain talk is our last hope.
Commander Gattuso, a naval aviator, is the requirements officer and liaison to the acquisition community at Naval Strike Warfare Center, NAS Fallon, Nevada.