Leadership Forum: Return to Tradition

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Traditional naval leadership—from long before the day of Farragut at Mobile Bay through the most recent combat flight operations in the Med— often imposes unique demands under high-risk conditions. The leader’s faith—in himself, in his people, and in his cause—must be unshakable.

As a young midshipman, David Porter was assigned to the USS Constellation in 1798. Finding conditions harsh and his superiors demanding, Porter complained to his captain, Thomas Truxtun, who replied:

“Swear at you? Damn it, sir—

every time I do that you go a'      ...

the ladder of promotion! A^s _()ll up first lieutenant’s blowing y ^ h^e every day, why, sir, ’tis b®^ca yoU loves you and would not *>  ^b-

grow up a conceited young ^c Go . . . and let us have no whining.”¹

130

Proceedings / Sep*^el

n>t>^er

l9t)⁶

P^minern' ff-^{t0 become} one of the most Navy. . ⁰ ‘^lcers in the early American durinu ti,^S ,?^a^^ta'^{n tbe} frigate Essex °ⁿ what t^^ar *812, he took his ship connic, n^{Came tbe} longest voyage of ^CaPtured ~-^Urm®- ^tbe emise, the Essex

^slngIe-han°,^rJ^{ank 25 enem}y vessels—

'^lln§ industry-

whal

crippling the British

^stroyedV'T^uy~~~^{beforc she was de}‘

°ld teach^ ^{3 ar}8^er British force. Like his ^resPonsik|^r’f~^apta'ⁿ ^^ruxtun» Porter was One of ,h^{C or a} nitmber of midshipmen, gut. he ?^{m Was} l-lavid Glasgow Farra- FarranutV,⁰⁰’ l^earned his lessons well, and led th ^eii^^{me tbe Nav}y’s first admiral Cleans ⁶ 7ⁿ'⁰ⁿ fleet to victory at New ^ragut’_{s v}³ⁿ Mobile Bay. One of Far- His ⁿame°^Un^ ^beutenants idolized him. later, _as, ^Was George Dewey, and years Manj]_a j? ‘^aced a Spanish squadron off Hat _w’ , ^ewey would ask himself— In _s,_U(j . Admiral Farragut do?

°^Ur great ^b'^story we tend to isolate ^UrnPh, f₀ ^eaders in their moments of tri- °f exp_crjp^^etl'ⁿ® l*¹³* ^eat'h was a product get th_at ^nee and example. We also for­t'll p_a„_cs ^ey ^set their examples, not only day _CQnt ^ln books, but through day-to- deek, ^W'^tb others; on the quarter- bridge . wardroom, and on the Plac_ecj ^lnce ‘^ts inception, the Navy has leaders _w^e,^resP°nsibility for training its ^to irnagi,,^{1 ds} l^eaders. It is not difficult ^tree- by ^Cu^{3 k}‘^nd professional family It's ]j_n^_s ^w, 'eh every officer could find etice of u^{Wltb tbe} Past, tracing the experi-

ha:

-«s a_{n Un} ^Sen'ors. In turn, every officer ^aey ,^_a( ^Written responsibility to a leg- ^v,,ho f,_a ^as been passed down by those Fo_r mo ^°^ne before.

^acV has ^{tban two} centuries, this leg- ^lraditi_0n ^{een tbe} source of a leadership b°Wever "J.lbe Navy. In recent years, ^ers, has h ^{IS tra<}diti°n, like so many oth- ’I'e cause^Ctjⁿ *^arS^cly obscured. Whatever '^{n n}'°ral ? ^tb'^{S tren}d—a general decline ⁿatn \y ^{S ren}gth, the impact of the Viet-

sch,

Wi

'Ools

^ar’ ^0r the failure of American ^{1 e} result has been a renewed

^e>^hasi_{s nn}

Applicants f P^roduc'ⁿ8 better leaders. ^arc sergg ^{S or} officer training programs ^f"^re bei_n^{netl f}°^r loudership potential be- °!ficer _c ^ ^accePted. Midshipmen and ^!be suh;„^anc*'^dates are indoctrinated on Prac;^bject and

actieg,

given the opportunity to

i *i •                             o

'Pent j_n ^{neir skills} in a training environ- Pccted to , ⁶ ^^eet’ ^new officers are ex- ‘^)Cc°^rdin_sf^{r0W as} Baders and are graded ^grarns an / ^{2 bc} Navy has instituted pro- [elatiogs • l³⁰*'⁰’⁶⁵ designed to improve ^tvel. y ^arnon8 its personnel at every ’bing _s(jj. ’ despite these efforts, some- r^'P in ^Seerns to be missing. Leader- [^0rm _So ^{s mo}st inspirational form—the ^ead j_{n c}® * by officers who may one day ornbat—remains elusive.

This does not imply that the Navy’s leadership policies are ineffective. Rather, the failure rests with the empha­sis and trust we have placed in these poli­cies and programs. Instead of accepting them as adjuncts to naval leadership, de­signed to help us cope with new prob­lems, we have embraced them as leader­ship itself. For some, programs intended as tools to assist the leader have become substitutes for competent leadership, and a mere understanding of what a leader is and does has replaced the faith from which a leader’s strength must spring. The result is a hollow “contemporary” leadership, lacking any real heritage.

Much of contemporary leadership the­ory is directed at individuals, recognizing their problems and counseling them. Many of the Navy’s programs are actu­ally services—educational, financial, and social—where emphasis is placed on meeting individual needs in hopes of improving overall performance. These are valuable of course, but officers who rely on them exclusively to get the most out of their men are only pandering to personal interests. Under such a philoso­phy, leaders must change their style as the demands and moods of their followers change—always seeking the path of least resistance in relations with subordinates.

Proponents of contemporary leadership theories argue that their methods are the logical response to the “me-generation,” which is now entering the work force. They claim that a legacy of traditional leadership, while it makes good history, cannot meet the demands of a modem Navy, which draws its people from a modem society. American youth, they say, has been raised in a permissive, “what’s-in-it-for-me” culture. Since the Navy must compete with the private sec­tor to obtain and retain personnel, propo­nents argue that the Navy must use re­cruiting methods which are prevalent in the private sector and that are more com­patible with the majority of potential sail­ors. Hence, we see recruiting methods promising travel and free education rather than calling for selfless service to one’s country. These contemporary leaders ask, “How can a leader use a traditional approach—one that appeals to unselfish­ness—if his followers’ motives are purely selfish?”

This argument is faulty in two re­spects. First, the Navy has rarely ap­pealed to a sense of service or altruism in its search for recruits. During the Revolu­tionary War and the War of 1812, as naval traditions were taking root, the lure of prize money attracted crewmen and filled ships. In fact, since the best hands flocked to the more profitable privateers,

the Navy was seriously undermanned. In the Civil War, it was necessary to prom­ise a bonus or months of advance pay to new men. And up through the end of the 19th Century, many U. S. sailors were not Americans at all, but simply foreign­ers signed on during the course of a voy­age. Thus, crews of clean-cut youth with the stars and stripes in their eyes are not prerequisites for successful traditional leadership.

Second, the motivations of the follow­ers should not determine the style of lead­ership. During the 18th Century, enlight­ened British officers, Horatio Nelson among them, gained loyalty and confi­dence from their crews, beyond anything they could have extorted with the whip. Many men in these crews were being held against their will in conditions that would have tried the most dedicated sailor. John Paul Jones gave the Navy its first vic­tories by inspiring the obedience of in­experienced, disagreeable seamen. True leadership obtains cooperation by overcoming selfish interests, not by ma­nipulating them.

Naval officers have often dealt with difficult followers in the past. Why then discard their proven methods? The an­swer is that contemporary leadership is not merely a new style, but an entirely new officer-enlisted relationship.

The relationship between an officer and his division cannot be compared to that of an executive and his laborers. Sailors are not employees, yet there are those who would consider them as such. While the line between the wardroom and the mess-deck is clearer and more rigidly drawn than that between the white-collar and blue-collar worlds, officers and their troops, by the nature of their profession, must be closer than their civilian counter­parts. Generally, workers and their bosses have little in common except their employer. Navy men—all Navy men— are equally entitled to call themselves warriors and mariners, for they share the same hardships and sacrifices. Even in a profitable civilian organization, there exists some counterproductive work be­tween management and labor. Navy men are mutually dependent upon one another for success and survival. Lastly, in the business world, failure is perceived dif­ferently at different levels, whereas in the Navy, enemy gunfire and the elements draw no class distinctions.

Historically, the authority exercised by officers over their crews would be unac­ceptable to their civilian counterparts. Yet in this rigid system, naval officers, possessing absolute authority over men raised in a democratic society— essentially taught to question power and

'^{8S1 Se}Ptember 1986

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