Tactical carrier aviators from the support communities (EA-6B, E-2C, S-3B, H-60) do not select for major operational command and subsequently flag officer at the same rate as their F/A-18 and F-14 counterparts. That’s a fact.
Only a handful of support community aviators have been selected for the “Super CAG” (carrier air wing commander) pipeline since the program’s inception. No airborne early warning (VAW) or antisubmarine helicopter (HS) aviator has ever been selected—and only one air antisubmarine (VS) aviator made it in the last 15 years. The success rate for tactical electronic warfare (VAQ) aviators is equally disheartening.
This year the major command selection board picked four Hornet pilots and three Tomcat radar intercept officers for the pipeline. Previous years reflect the same trend. At first glance, this might appear logical, since these officers have the most experience in the carrier’s primary mission: strike warfare. Many tactical aviation (TacAir) flag officers cite this as the reason when asked about the apparent selection inequities. Of course, that’s also the way they came up.
A closer look, however, raises some troubling questions about the integrity of a system that promotes officers by aircraft type as opposed to career performance.
This same trend shows up in the nuclear power “deep-draft” selection process, with the added twist of nuclear power eligibility thrown in to complicate the equation. Just as we pick CAGs based on what aircraft they got out of flight school (a selection process that really begins at the completion of primary flight training), we pick nuclear-power deep-draft/nuclear-powered carrier (CVN) skippers based on: college academic background first, followed by aircraft type, and, last, career performance. Of the seven officers selected for deep-draft major command this year, four were automatic picks based on their previous administrative selection for nuclear power training. The remainder were from the TacAir tailhook community.
Based on these realities, EA-6, E-2, H-60, and S-3 officers have virtually no chance. Of course, detractors quickly point out that numerous support aviators have been selected to command conventional carriers, ’Gators, and naval air stations—while conveniently failing to acknowledge that upward mobility from those billets is disproportionately low as compared to their TacAir brethren. In fact, no S-3 officer was selected for flag between 1987 and 1998, although capable officers commanded CVNs, CVs, amphibious squadrons, and naval air stations; E-2 and EA-6 selection rates also were low.
The real reasons are easy to see. The cycle is perpetuated by understandable parochialism and selection boards that include a disproportionate number of TacAir representatives. A majority of aviation flags are TacAir, the majority of the board reps are TacAir, and the majority of the major command selects are TacAir. During the major-command screening board, blocs of F/A-18 and F-14 flags vote for their guys until the support guys fall out after a few crunches in the tank. The really competitive support guys will get a ’Gator or a naval air station on their second or third look. Their chances for flag are slim to none.
The really competitive TacAir guys get picked for CAG, nuclear power, or a deep draft on their first look, and press out smartly with a near 50% percent chance for flag. Manpower and Personnel no doubt can come up with plenty of examples to refute this, but the process is a well known albeit unacknowledged dirty little secret of naval aviation: naval aviation has a glass ceiling. Should we fix this problem? Yes. Today’s carrier aviators follow a similar career path and participate in a standardized turn-around training cycle guided by joint warfighting principles. Support aviators have as much experience in the operational art as their TacAir brethren. In any event, the tactical art of employing a specific weapon system is best left behind at the squadron-commander level.
The Navy has gone to great lengths to integrate minorities and to ensure equal opportunity. Quotas have become benchmarks to measure success. Recently, we have put the same energy into integrating women into the operational Navy—again with quotas. In both cases, the old-boy network was one of the problems. Hasn’t the time come to get rid of this network as it affects command selection? Would a fair-share percentage of selections based on community size be a more equitable way to select our operational commanders? An organization that espouses total quality management and equal opportunity should emphasize performance rather than “what’cha fly” when it comes to selecting those who will lead that organization.
Hundreds of support aviation junior officers watch their leaders do everything the Navy asks them to do, do it well, and then fail to move beyond commander- or captain-level command. Confronted with this limited future, many of them leave.
We can correct these inequities the same way we broke the paradigms of race and gender. The selection boards should be statutory as opposed to administrative. This would help ensure objectivity and create a fair distribution of officers selected from among the different warfare specialties based on community and year-group size. Names, social security numbers, references to aircraft type, and other identifying data should be removed from the officer summary records used in the tank. Obviously, some discrimination would have to be made between the various warfare specialties so that maritime patrol (VP) commands went to VP aviators and carrier commands went to tailhook/HS aviators, etc. The selection process for nuclear power training should be revised so that only those with the most competitive performance records are selected. Any system that eliminates a large percentage of our command-eligible personnel based on their college curriculum is inherently flawed: We’re talking about leadership, not academic or engineering prowess.
The competition for command in our smaller Navy is keen, but the current selection system, rooted in parochialism, must be changed if we are to shatter naval aviation’s glass ceiling.
Commander Dailey, a naval aviator who commanded VS-24, flies for a major airline. Selected for captain but not for air wing command and ineligible for nuclear power training because of his BA degree, he decided to retire.
Breaking Naval Aviation's Glass Ceiling
By Commander Dailey