Leonard Lauder is chairman emeritus of Estee Lauder Companies, one of the world's leading cosmetics and skin-care firms. Like many top executives, he got his start as a Navy Supply Corps officer. Here's his account of his eight years in the Navy and the Naval Reserve, and the lessons they taught him.
At age 22, I embarked on a life-changing adventure: I volunteered for service in the Navy, serving three and a half years on active duty, followed by four and a half more in the Reserves.
It was 1955. The Cold War was in full force, but our nation's deep engagement in Vietnam had not yet begun, and from today's vantage point, with brave American troops in harm's way in Afghanistan and Iraq, my years of military service seem comparatively uneventful.
Yet, for me, they were defining. While it may seem incongruous that a cosmetics business executive started out in a military uniform, my Navy experience in many ways laid the foundation for all that followed. It provided me with six enduring lessons that have shaped my life ever since.
My journey began in October 1945, when I was 12 years old. The war was over, and the U.S. fleet sailed into New York Harbor. It was like a Who's Who of heroes in the Hudson River: The Monterey (CVL-26), the Midway (CVB-41), the Bataan (CVL-29), the Boise (CL-47), and the Navy's pride, the Enterprise (CV-6). With a dime for bus fare, I made my way to the docks and boarded a boat to the ships. Soon, I was on board the Big E, "the fightingest carrier in the Fleet." I wandered the great ship from bow to stern; I even found my way to the admiral's quarters. From that day on, I knew I wanted to be a naval officer.
Fast-forward ten years. My parents, armed with four products and my mother's boundless energy, were running a home-grown cosmetics company they called Estee Lauder. I had finished college and was studying for an MBA. at Columbia University. I wanted to gain the expertise that would help our family business flourish. But the draft was still on. Most of my friends were entering the Army as clerk-typists. Instead, I applied to Navy Officer Candidate School, and in January 1955, I left Columbia for OCS in Newport, Rhode Island.
My section was two dozen men, mostly engineers and PhDs. It was a grueling program. I'd always considered myself to be pretty smart, yet try as I might, by graduation I ranked only 12th of 24. This taste of humble pie for a cocksure kid became the Navy's Lesson Number One: The world is full of people who are better and smarter than you. I still remember lying in my bunk at OCS and promising myself, "If I get out of this alive and go into business, those are the only kind of people I'm going to hire."
Next, I went to Navy Supply Corps School in Athens, Georgia, to learn how to ensure that our Sailors, ships, and shore stations would have everything they need to fulfill their missions. I threw myself into honing my financial, strategic planning, and organizational skills, and I'm glad I did. The training I received in business management later helped me build tiny Estee Lauder into a global enterprise.
My first assignment was as the ship's store officer on the USS Leyte (CVS-32), an antisubmarine aircraft carrier that operated out of Quonset Point, Rhode Island. A merchant at heart, I loved finding just the items my shipmates wanted. It may not have been the heroic duty I'd envisioned as a boy visiting the Enterprise, but I saw how the store lifted Sailors' morale, and I took great pride in doing my part to strengthen the fabric of our crew.
Lesson Number Two: In great organizations, every role is essential to mission success, and every individual can be great by shining in his or her role. The Navy taught me that when people share a mission and know how much they matter, they will strive for excellence and distinction, up and down the line. That's why, at Estee Lauder, whenever I travel, I go to every store and business location I can, and I meet personally with the beauty consultants at our counters, the people stocking in our warehouses, and the men and women mixing our creams and serums in our labs. I want them all to feel valued for their contributions, no matter what their title or seniority. Every person, in every job in our company, has an important role to play in our success.
I owe the USS Leyte's supply officer, Commander Winfield "Bud" Knopf, for Lesson Number Three: Great leaders have the courage of their convictions. In the business world, as in the military, the best leaders have the courage to make tough calls. An extraordinary mentor, Bud taught me the importance of deliberating carefully before acting, and then being willing to stand by decisions, however controversial or hard.
Petty Officer Second Class Jack J. Duran taught me Lesson Number Four: Leaders can only be as successful as those who work for them want them to be. Jack unfailingly ensured that I always had the support to succeed. I was so grateful that, when he left the Navy, I hired him at Estee Lauder, where he rose to be one of our most successful vice-presidents.
After my tour in the Leyte, I became the supply officer on a destroyer, the USS Charles R. Ware (DD-865). Among my duties, I was responsible for the mess, where, frankly, the food was pretty mundane. I resolved to change that. I wanted my crew to have the best chow in the Navy. Everyone on our ship worked so hard in the service of our nation; I wanted the crew to feel as though someone was working in service to them.
Lesson Number Five: With a dash of creativity, the most basic ingredients can be made desirable and exciting. I didn't even know how to boil an egg, but I worked with our ship's cook to create appealing menus. On German Night, we served sauerbraten, with meat we'd managed to marinate for eight days. In retrospect, I'm amazed we even attempted such a recipe at sea, but, if you'll pardon the pun, the crew ate it up. Likewise, I did my utmost to make standard fare seem tempting and new. Six weeks of spuds? We served mashed potatoes, whipped potatoes, snowflake potatoes, and more. For my pains, the commanding officer put me in charge of the wardroom, too.
We follow the same technique at Estee Lauder, constantly revitalizing our products and creating new options.
Most of all, the Navy taught me Lesson Number Six: Standing for something far bigger than yourself becomes its own reward. Throughout my career, I've combined my business endeavors with philanthropy. The former has enabled the latter, but it's the philanthropy that makes the business endeavors worthwhile, and I'm gratified to see how giving back has become ingrained in our corporate culture, and how dedicated our employees are to helping others around the world.
It's been more than a half-century since I answered the call, but I'm still guided by the lessons I learned during that formative time. I gave the Navy eight years of service; what the Navy gave me is immeasurable. Maybe that's why I always tear up when I hear "Anchors Aweigh." I think of not only the fine men with whom I served, but on a far more significant scale, the thousands of Navy men and women who've sacrificed their lives for our country. I will always consider it a privilege to have served.