Dear Self,
Salutations! It’s you, writing from the future (best not ponder such metaphysical things, you have flight school in a month). I would like to try to save you from failing as a leader, at least to some small degree. I know; you think you’re going to be great. You took the class in ROTC, and you led a few clubs in college. I hate to disappoint you, but you’ll still be falling short more than a decade from now. Perhaps, though, there are a few pitfalls you can avoid if you read this letter (which maybe you’ll do. You are very stubborn).
I’m going to give you four do nots and four dos. (They say symmetry is great for synthesizing information.) I could write pages explaining the stories behind each lesson, but I know there is a lot going on in 2010. (Just wait for 2020 and 2021. I don’t want to spoil it.) And yes, these lessons apply to other communities besides aviation. In fact, even as an aviator, you’re going to end up doing some boat time. It’s going to be a real hoot. (Just remember, fo’c’sle stands for “forecastle” but is pronounced “foaxle.” It’s in the front.)
Things Not to Do
Chase the Buzzwords. You’re going to hear leaders talk in “Leaderese” and think, to be a leader, you need to talk the talk. Not true. A time is coming when many officers will start using executive-oriented phrases such as “bottom line up front,” “dovetail,” “circle back,” and “all hands effort.” Eventually it will become passé, but for a solid eight years that kind of talk will be at the forefront of group addresses and staffer quad slides. Here is why you should abstain: While it might make you sound highbrow, it will be seen as performative and thus disingenuous. Just talk like a normal person to your people. They don’t care that you could blend with seamless synthesis into the corporate world. They want you to communicate what you want from them, what you’re going to do for them, and ultimately that you care about them. Do it in a way they can best understand. If all you do is spew white noise, your words will mean nothing. They call that “chaff” in the industry.
Fake It ’til You Make It. Many salty lieutenants are going to tell you that you need to fake it until you make it in a given position, and that eventually you’ll pick up the job with which you’re charged. Don’t. If you don’t know an answer, have the courage to say that. Find someone (hint: almost always your chief) who knows the answer. Take those moments as opportunities to educate everyone: not only in finding a given answer yourself, but also in showing your people that it’s okay to say, “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” As it turns out, that phrase isn’t just for midshipmen uniform inspections.
Attempt to Master Leadership Solely By Studying Leadership. This one is tricky. There is going to be a strong movement in both academic writing and TED talks (these are going to be huge) toward leadership. Those mediums have valuable insight—but not all the insight. Leadership studies are good for studying leadership; they are not always best for becoming a great leader. You have to do leadership. Through both success and failure, you’ll figure it out. Mostly, at least.
Practice Invasive Leadership. This is going to be one of your top three leadership failures for a long time. And even when you want to dispense with it, your boss won’t (sorry). Some of your colleagues will say you have to get in your people’s business to help them—that this is leading people. It’s not really. It damages trust, and it’s lazy. Your sailors are grown women and men. Some will be inexperienced, and a few will make mistakes that you would take for granted as being impossible (like trying to buy two houses on E-3 pay). Many others will not, though. They are adults who want to be treated like adults. They want to work in a professional environment that is separate from their personal lives, which they see (as they should) as their own business. Give them that respect and trust. (It’s much harder to do than you think!)
Making Sailor Smith tell you every facet of her personal life so you can tell your boss when she gets in an argument with her spouse will do several negative things. It will make her loathe you. It also will make you a bona fide micromanager. If that sailor’s work starts to decline in quality, then talk to her first about her work. If you treat your people like children, they’ll meet you where you set the mark . . . if only out of spite. Giving them privacy is difficult when you want constant reassurance, but it’s ultimately the better road to take. They will respect you in return for respecting them.
Things to Do
Pay No Mind to Your Ranking. It will be one of your biggest frustrations: trying to negotiate being in a wardroom yet competing with many of those same people. I know you want to make this a career. You want to have command (though you really have no idea what that is yet). So you need that “#1 early promote.” But for better or worse, much of what happens in your career will revolve around timing. It’s out of your control. What is in your control is being good at your job and being kind to people, so do those things well. You’re going to hate it, but you have to let the rest wash out as it will. Being hypercompetitive will strain friendships, cause you undue stress, and in general make you a pretty unhappy person. It’s not worth the cost. But you’ll probably still have to learn that the hard way.
Pay More Mind to Your People’s Betterment. Remember the buzzword thing? This is me circling back: Servant leadership is also now a pseudo-passé term, but it’s actually a valuable concept. You’re going to move around a lot—from jobs within a command, to different commands. Many of your sailors will be in place almost twice as long as you will. The squadron (or ship) is theirs. Your job should be to remove obstacles, help them achieve their vision, and foster their development both personally and professionally.
Take time to help sailors apply for Officer Candidate School or the Naval Academy. Help them study for their statistics exam (I know, you hate math). Explain how taxes work. It often will be after working hours, but it will be worth it. The texts and emails you will get years from now from your prior E-5s who are now ensigns will be more valuable to you than how much you prepared for your warfare qualification board. The O Club isn’t going anywhere. (Actually, depending on the base, that’s not true. It’s a bummer, but my [your?] point still stands.)
Give Your People the Trust and Latitude to Succeed—or Fail. You’re a perfectionist. (Or at least you tell yourself you are. You still hate making the bed in 2021.) You’re going to be prone to micromanaging your people, as I mentioned. You’ll think you know how all your department’s individual tasks should be done. You’ll have a vision and know how to execute it. This is where you will end up making a mess of things.
Yes, you have a vision, but it is not the vision. Your people also will have a vision of how to run things. And they will have a better idea how to run their shops, because the shops are theirs. You’ll go down each day doing rounds thinking you are learning how a given shop operates. You really have no idea. So let your people run with a vision. Or at least let them in on the process.
Once your team has a vision of how to do something, let them figure out how to do it. So what if they fail? Take the heat for it; that’s part of midlevel management’s function! Your boss will know you are a worthwhile officer through many other avenues than simply whether a class you are running executes seamlessly on time, on target. (See how obnoxious these buzzwords are?) But they will be quick to figure out when you’re not letting other people make decisions. That is poor leadership.
Show Your People It’s Okay to Live a Balanced Life. This is the most important. This will be where you fail the most. You’re going to work long hours during the week, and you’re going to work on the weekends. You’ll miss get togethers with friends. You’ll stop going to the gym. You’ll stop taking care of yourself and your relationships, because you think that it means you’re working hard and doing a good job. But you aren’t. You’re showing both peers and sailors alike that you don’t have your priorities straight. Your peers will just roll their eyes at you (they do, and they should), but your sailors will pay a bigger price, because some will think that is the expectation you have for your people. You must avoid this!
You need to show your sailors that it’s okay to live a balanced life. Family is important—it’s also fragile. Here is a worthwhile circle back: In a 1996 speech at Georgia Tech, Coca-Cola’s chief executive Bryan Dyson explained,
You will soon understand that “work” is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. But the other four balls—family, health, friends, and spirit—are made of glass. If you drop one of these, they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged, or even shattered. They will never be the same. You must understand that and strive for balance in your life.1
You want to help better your sailors? Give them this advice, then put your money where your mouth is. Because if you don’t do it yourself, you can’t expect your sailors to take what you say seriously.
Parting Words
Time and introspection are funny bedfellows. As you ponder how you could do things differently, you often will find that many of the mistakes you made turned into opportunities. I wish I could show you all the things to do differently over the next decade. There are a lot of them. But then I suppose I wouldn’t be giving you (me?) the latitude to succeed or fail, which would be me not putting my money where my mouth is. (Speaking of which, invest in Bitcoin. Trust me!)
Sincerely Yours,
Self +10
