Hey, did you hear about the lieutenant who got a speeding ticket on base? Until that day, he'd had an exemplary career, but his commanding officer found out he'd had a beer a few hours prior to getting the ticket and so decided that the incident was alcohol related. By the time the lieutenant was done with captain's mast and the drug and alcohol program, he had no choice but to get out of the Navy.
You didn't hear about that?
Well, how about the squadron commander who was formally reprimanded after having a command hail-and-farewell at his house because a female officer was offended by the presence of a men's magazine in the bathroom?
You didn't hear about that?
How about the young destroyer officer of the deck whose skipper revoked his surface warfare pin and gave him a rotten fitness report just because the guy decided not to wake up the commanding officer when a merchant ship had a closest point of approach of three miles?
You didn't hear about that one either? Surely you've heard about the latest round of zero-defects incidents in the Navy. The zero-defects monster is everywhere.
Or is it?
In recent months I've had conversations with fellow officers, friends, and coworkers about the military's current zero-defects tendencies, leadership failings, and other problems. These ideas churned in my subconscious for several weeks, until I attended the retirement ceremony for an Army lieutenant colonel. His farewell speech struck a chord with me. He said, "After meeting my initial goals, I stayed in the Army because of the people—the other soldiers—I served with. I stayed because the people I worked with everyday were, by and large, good, dedicated, honest, hard-working teammates. And I decided to stay as long as I felt I could contribute."
His words matched my experience and thoughts several years ago when I was deciding whether to stay in the Navy. I enjoy the Navy because I work with, by and large, very good people. The work I do seems important to me, to the Navy, and to the nation. The people I work with inspire me.
Many people bemoan the lack of leadership in our military. They talk about spineless flag officers and careerism. I hope I don't sound like I'm wearing rose-colored glasses, but my personal experience has been tipped significantly in favor of the good guys, the motivators, the people I'd follow anywhere.
The more I think about it, the more I believe the zero-defects monster in the Navy is a myth—akin to sea monsters and the perception that the grass is greener in the civilian world. We like to talk about the monster and lament the hard times we've fallen on in these zero-defect days. We tell sea stories about the guy who screwed up on one thing, one time, and ended his career. Despite the sea stories, though, I've never seen the monster firsthand. Are there mistakes a naval officer can make that will, with only one occurrence, end a career? Yes. Would most people agree those mistakes ought to end a career? Probably. Are careers being ended for single inconsequential mistakes? I haven't seen it.
Consider the case of Commander Scott Waddle and the collision between the USS Greeneville (SSN-772) and the Japanese fishing boat. Over the course of 20 years, Commander Waddle was given increasing responsibility. His leaders developed him, and the Navy gave him the opportunity to command a submarine. He and his crew made a mistake that cost nine people their lives. The accident ended his career. Commander Waddle, from all reports, seems to believe that his punishment was just. Yet, I have heard officers argue that the end of Commander Waddle's career is evidence of the zero-defects monster. I would argue that it's not. Some mistakes are serious enough that they ought to have serious ramifications. The sinking of the Ehime Maru was one such mistake.
I recently read a book called Leadership Is an Art by Max DePree (Dell, 1990). It is one of the books on the CNO's flag officer reading list. Admiral Clark speaks often on the subject of leadership, and when he uses the term covenant leadership, he's echoing an idea from DePree's book. It is a concept that goes beyond contractual leadership into an idea that most military people aren't too comfortable with—namely, that a leader loves his/her people in a paternal or maternal way. Covenant leadership is caring more about one's people than about oneself, and helping people develop fully and achieve their maximum potential. Covenant leadership is difficult. It's akin to parenthood, or the Peace Corps—"the toughest job you'll ever love."
As I read DePree's book, I tried to think about examples of covenant leadership I had seen. The following are some real sea stories about leaders I have worked for in my 18 years in the Navy. They form the.basis of my belief that leadership is alive and well in our Navy, and that the zero-defects monster is not.
In 1988, I was a squadron intelligence officer for an F/A-18 Hornet squadron. One of my tasks was to provide recognition training to the squadron pilots. Day after day I delivered briefings on how to tell the difference between a Krivak and a Kresta, a Badger from a Blinder. Finally, the recce test was given by the Carrier Group Four staff, and squadron scores were announced. I was shocked; my squadron finished dead last of the ten squadrons in the air wing. I walked to the ready room with my tail between my legs. The skipper was sitting in his chair at the front of the ready room. I sat next to him. He looked at me over the tops of his "cheaters" and said, "Well, Zygote, how'd we do?" "Not too good, sir. We finished last in the wing." He must have sensed my feeling that I'd let down the entire squadron. This was not a squadron that ever finished last, in anything! The skipper looked at me and said, "Did we pass?" "Yes, sir." Then he said something I'll never forget. "Zygote, some things are important and some things are not. This one falls in the latter category. Now get busy with something important." I never heard another word about the test.
A year later in the same squadron, one of our best pilots (a senior lieutenant) admitted to the ready room that he'd landed after a training engagement with only a few hundred pounds of gas left in his tanks. In the stress and exhilaration of the engagement, against a Top Gun aggressor F-16, he'd blown through his bingo fuel state. He'd come within minutes of losing an F/A-18, in peacetime, over the United States, by running out of gas. The new skipper praised him for admitting his mistake and using it as a lesson for the other pilots.
In 1998, I was an air wing intelligence officer deploying to the Persian Gulf. Our deputy air wing commander skipped the transit from the Strait of Gibraltar to the Persian Gulf to fly to Bahrain and Saudi Arabia for briefings. During the week he was off the carrier, two ensigns decorated his room. They painted his entire stateroom pink. Rose pink. They stenciled the walls with flowers and placed potpourri baskets on his desk and shelves. It looked like an 80-year-old woman lived there. By the time the deputy returned to the ship, most of the officers on board knew what had been done. We all wondered how he would react. How bad would the retribution be? But when he opened his stateroom door, his reaction was, "They got me!" He laughed it off. He took the joke on the chin and admitted he'd been had. In fact, he was so good-natured that he kept the room pink for most of the deployment before finally asking the culprits to repaint it beige.
I have stayed in the Navy because of the people with whom I have worked. For all the sea stories about zero defects, I haven't had to wrestle with that monster. Yes, I've known some officers who were poor leaders, but most of my experiences have been positive. My commanding officers and department heads have had a covenant with their people, including me. They have inspired me. They have showed me the way forward. They have trusted me. They have forgiven me my mistakes. They have ensured my growth and well-being. I hope to live up to their example.
Did you hear about the aircraft carrier commanding officer who ordered swim call in the Persian Gulf? Despite the real risk to his career in the event of a drowning or a shark attack, despite the safer option of not having swim call, he ordered swim call—twice—to break up the monotony of two long at-sea periods with canceled port calls.
You didn't hear that one? The water was warm, the captain swam with us, and the crew loved it.
That's the kind of mythology that has kept me in the Navy. Leaders who take risks and understand the human element, who create an environment where chances are taken, reasonable mistakes are made, and lessons are learned from those mistakes. When I look around, that's what I see.
Lieutenant Commander Hamblet is an intelligence officer assigned to the Joint Staff Intelligence Directorate (J2) in the Pentagon. The fact that he was selected for commander is testimony to the Navy’s forgiveness of defects.