Tag Archives: Leadership

Book Review, History

The God of Submarines

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Rear Admiral Dave Oliver, USN (Ret.),  Against the Tide: Rickover’s Leadership Principles and the Rise of the Nuclear Navy. Naval Institute Press. 178pp. $27.95.

Admiral Hyman George Rickover, USN, (1900 – 1986), has been gone now for almost thirty-years.  Yet his legacy remains — and not only in the boats he built, or the submarine culture he shaped, or even the incessant attention to detail and excellence — but also the theatrical.  Thus, most stories of the great man are told in either a tone of reverence or disbelief, but regardless, they tend to be entertaining.

I’ll never forget the first story that I had heard about the old man. When I was a young ensign, somehow his name came up during a conversation:

Officer: Hey, have you ever heard of Admiral Rickover and what he did when he interviewed officers for command?

Me: No, I haven’t heard about him.  What did he do?

Officer: Well, Rickover would interview every prospective commanding officer of a nuclear submarine. So, this one time, an officer was in his office and Rickover said to him, “Do something to make me mad.” The guy looks at Rickover, and then he knocks everything off Rickover’s desk, including a valuable model of a submarine.  Rickover was furious — but apparently it worked, the officer got the job and ended up commanding a nuclear submarine.  Crazy, huh?

Me: (Stunned silence).

A few years later, more stories would come up — and they always had something to do with his infamous interviews: Rickover stuffed officers in the broom closet next to his office if they gave a poor response to a question; Rickover sawed a few inches off the legs of the chair in front of his desk to confuse an officer interviewing for the program; and Rickover had no qualms about calling you an idiot.  The best, and really the only complete transcript of a Rickover interview comes from the late-Admiral Elmo Zumwalt, who, as a commander, interviewed with Rickover in the late 1950s for command of a submarine.  While Zumwalt passed the interview (although with a few stops in the broom closet along the way) he ended up going a different direction.  He became the first commanding officer of a  guided-missile frigate, and  years later,  the youngest chief of naval operations in U.S. naval history. His memoir, On Watch, is worth the price of admission for the interview alone.

Rear Admiral Dave Oliver, USN(ret.), however, has less to say about his interview with Rickover in his new book, Against The Tide.  Rather, Oliver has written an entertaining, slim volume that is a series of anecdotes and stories tied to leadership and management principles gleaned from years of observing and studying “the father of the nuclear navy.”

On Leadership: “I have the charisma of a chipmunk, so what difference does that make?”

– Admiral Hyman Rickover

Early in the book, Oliver tells us one of the more interesting stories about Rickover and his ability to expect the unexpected.  It is worth telling in full.

It was the late 1960s the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were in the middle of the Cold War. Oliver was deployed on his first nuclear-powered submarine, USS George Washington Carver (SSBN-656).  While returning from a patrol, somewhere in the Barents Sea, they received an encoded message from the boat that was enroute to relieve them.  The boat set to relieve them experienced a “technical problem.”  Oliver can’t say what kind of technical problem because, well, it “remains classified to this day.”  Thus, he simply refers to it as a “giraffe.”

The “giraffe” that this boomer had experienced was unheard of: “It was serious and was the first time this particular problem had ever arisen in the fledgling nuclear-power industry.” A message was immediately sent to Navy Nuclear Reactors.  Rickover would find out about the problem — it was only a matter of time.  Meanwhile, Oliver and the officers of the Carver sat down and tried to figure out a solution to the problem themselves, treating it as a real-world training evolution.  In a few hours they came up with a solution.  Oliver says that Carver’s solution took up twelve single spaced type-written pages.  They thought that they had figured it out and then hit the rack.  Hours later, Navy Reactors sent a message to “their sister ship” with instructions on how to proceed.  The length of the message?  Four words. 

And in those four words, Oliver says, they recognized its wisdom and — as a group — missed a safety consideration that just might have killed the entire crew.  Years later, Oliver ran into Rickover’s deputy for submarines, Bill Wegner.  Oliver says he thanked Wegner for that great four word response from what he assumed, was a group of Navy Reactor engineers.

As it turned out, the engineers came up with the same response as the officers on the Carver — something close to a twelve page type-written response to address the problem of the “giraffe.”  And this is where it gets interesting.  Wegner relayed to Oliver that when the event occurred, he went to Rickover’s apartment in Washington D.C. with a response in hand for the admiral’s approval to send to the boat. As Wegner tells Oliver:

“The admiral stood in the hall reading without comment and then invited me inside.  He went over to the rolltop desk that was just off the living room, reached into one of the pukas, and took out a half-inch thick package of yellowed envelopes encased by a rubber band.  He fanned through the pile, slipped one out from the pack and handed it to me. ‘Tell them this,“he said.”

“On the outside of the envelope, in Rickover’s handwriting was written ‘Giraffe’ … also inside, in Rickover’s distinctive scribble, was a three-by-five card with the four words we sent you.”

This pack of “emergency contingency plans” were there, sitting in Rickover’s desk, for the day the unexpected might happen.  Why they weren’t already onboard boats in the fleet, well, Wegner went on to tell Oliver that “…Rickover was not interested in anyone else in the Navy knowing how far he was willing to stretch engineering limits in an emergency situation.  Rickover believed in operating conservatively and safely.  In those envelopes he was going to give up a great deal of his safety cushion to provide an additional operating margin…” [Italics mine].

But not interested in letting anyone else know?  A story like this, then, can be seen in at least two ways: Rickover the genius; a man prepared for all seasons.  Or its opposite: Rickover was a micromanager that could have empowered his crews with information that in a different and deadlier circumstance could save their lives.  What does Oliver say at the end of this story?  He asks two of his own questions for the reader to ponder: “Do directors of companies sometimes accept risks they cannot evaluate until the bell tolls? And second, how do leaders avoid fooling themselves about the true condition of their own start-ups?”  Oliver ends every chapter with these kind of questions for self-reflection or discussion.  However, it would be nice to also hear Oliver’s take on the same questions he asks.

“There were a few times, yeah, that I hated him — because he demanded more from me than I thought I could deliver.”

– President Jimmy Carter

Leadership books that dip into the anecdotal stories of great men and women’s lives are often hagiographic. Oliver, as he says, respected Rickover second only to his father.  This admiration does not necessarily take anything away from the value of the work or the merit of Rickover’s principles.

But for every leadership book that sits on the shelf it is important to remember that one can learn just as much about leadership from a leader’s failures and shortcomings.  Rickover was a paradox on this count.  Oliver reminds us that one of Rickover’s mantras was  “Do the right thing.” Yet in 1986 Rickover was censured by the secretary of the navy for accepting over $60,000 in gifts from General Dynamics (twelve shower curtains?).  Rickover did not deny it, and he would later say that his “conscience was clear,” the gifts, he said, never influenced his decisions when it came to the submarine force.

Rickover was a contentious man, a brilliant man, and he had magical bureaucratic skills and vision: Imagine Peter Drucker and Steve Jobs all rolled up into one slight, white haired, five foot wiry frame.  And he could write.  Name a flag officer today that can wrap up Robert Browning, Walter Lippmann, I-Ching, Voltaire, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Teddy Roosevelt, and Aristotle into a single cogent essay.

Dave Oliver’s book is a nice volume to have on the shelf.  But it should not be read alone.  Rickover, his cult of personality, and his  legacy in the U.S. Navy needs a  larger context.  Polmar and Allen’s exceptional biography should sit right next to Oliver’s book for anyone who is considering learning more about this, the “father of the nuclear navy.”

 

Lieutenant Commander Christopher Nelson, USN, is a naval intelligence officer and recent graduate of the U.S.  Naval War College and the Navy’s operational planning school, the Maritime Advanced Warfighting School in Newport, RI.  LCDR Nelson is also CIMSEC’s book review editor and is looking for readers interested in reviewing books for CIMSEC.  You can contact him at books@cimsec.org.  The views above are the author’s and do not represent those of the US Navy or the US Department of Defense.

Seamanship and Leadership

Specialize or Not? Former RAN CO’s Reflections on Surface Warfare Officer Development

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Rear Admiral (ret) James Vincent Purcell Goldrick AO, CSC, RANR, served three times as a the Commanding Officer of a ship at sea. He is a fellow at the Seapower Centre and a Naval Historian.
(editor’s note) He is also served with the Patrol Boat navy, which means he is one of the best.

The recent discussion about the different approaches to surface warfare officer training in the British and American navies has been of great interest to me, if only because the Royal Australian Navy, my own service, has largely combined British training methods and career paths with the use of American designed ships and equipment.

I have had first-hand experience with both British and American methods, as well as the Australian approach, having served at sea on two exchange postings with the Royal Navy, been both XO and CO of RAN ships, small and big (by Australian standards) and sea ridden USN units, including in command time in tactical control of MIO operations in the northern Arabian Gulf. If I could sum up my view with a one liner it is that the British system is better for individual ships, the American for a navy as a whole.

Here I need to make an important distinction – the USN’s operational requirements are not those of the British, still less are they the same as those of Canada or Australia, so its personnel solutions should not necessarily be identical. Another, associated aspect of the comparison is that the USN system works better in major units because these can have enough experts onboard – with their associated rank and seniority – to provide the necessary leadership to all the specialisations involved. This is very difficult to achieve in smaller ships. Actually, it’s practically impossible.

The unit of power in the surface forces of the smaller navies, particularly in recent years, has been the frigate or destroyer. Within the USN, although times are changing – as recent deployment patterns not only in the Caribbean but even the South China Sea suggest – it has remained that of the carrier battle or expeditionary strike group. This requires a very different approach. A USN destroyer or frigate has been judged largely by how it fits into the whole, while a Canadian or Australian and even a British ship has in the past to manage both task group operations and independent activity to a much greater degree. In other words, the smaller navies have had to wring much more out of their limited capabilities and doing so successfully requires a higher level of expertise at more junior ranks than has generally been the case for the USN.

The reality is that deep expertise is found in the O5s and O6s of the American Navy that the other naval services can only envy. But, contrary to some of the declarations in earlier contributions to this discussion, I’d take a British or Australian O3 or O4 in their specialisation over the average (but not the best) USN surface warfare officer with the equivalent qualified sea service any day. This may seem a hard judgement, but it is not one based on intellect, morals or individual quality, it is simply a matter of experience – a USN officer has to cover so many more bases that there is an inevitable element – somewhere in it all – of ‘once over lightly’. My belief is that the USN maintains the standards it does by sheer hard work and a great deal of sea time.

But there is more to it than that. It seems to me that the argument has been confused by the inclusion of platform and propulsion engineering into the wider question of the requirement of warfare officers for technological understanding and technical mastery in addition to what could be described as operator skills. Because of the ‘once over lightly’ problem, my judgement is that, in general terms, propulsion engineers provide a more effective service and ship commanders are more expert in their essential skills if there is no attempt for platform engineers to proceed down the path of combatant command. I believe very firmly, in so far as frigates and destroyers which may have to operate as autonomous units are concerned, that it is practically impossible to accumulate the expertise necessary to cover all the bases associated if the officer complement are to have an ‘unrestricted line’ background. All that time in the machinery spaces has to come at the expense of the combat system and tactical knowledge as well as the associated ship driving skills which are vital to the effective direction of a warship’s operations. One sees certain resonances of this argument in the American submarine community and it is notable, although they have had their challenges in their nuclear force, that the British have never chosen to risk their tactical expertise in meeting their nuclear power demands. Royal Navy submarine captains get some nuclear power training, but they do not serve as engineers. I think that the British are right. My own experience is that I was very hard pressed to ensure that I was sufficiently expert as a surface warfare officer with the minimum mastery of combat systems and tactics necessary to fight the ship. I was also always acutely aware that my captains – and the ships’ companies with whom I served – demanded nothing less.

I do not have an engineering degree and I have also always had to work hard to ensure that I have had what I think is sufficient mastery of all aspects of ship design and propulsion to be an effective sea officer and, later, sea commander. Yet this was always in support of my primary functions, not such a function itself and this is the real point. Could I have known more about engineering? Yes, but at what cost to my warfare expertise? Did I end up knowing enough? I once had an exchange with my – extremely efficient and truly expert- platform (or what we call ‘marine’) engineer officer ashore over a beer one night. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I know that both your undergraduate and postgraduate degrees are in history. How is it that you always know the question to ask me that I don’t want you to ask me?’ ‘Simon,’ I replied, ‘I’m the captain, it’s my job.’ I still treasure that as one of the greatest professional compliments I have ever been paid – but I think it is one that, at least in part, I had earned. I will say here that the training system through which I passed allocated more time to engineering theory and practical engineering training for surface warfare officers than does the ‘objective focused’ system of the present day. There is a minimum required and I am not convinced that it is being met in either the RAN or the Royal Navy.

The point, however, is that my job as a captain was not to be the engineering officer, nor attempt to do his or her job. Mine was to be as expert as possible in driving and fighting my ship to achieve its military purposes. I am deliberate in suggesting that the platform engineering specialisation is not the ideal preparation for combatant command – although I have no objection to such officers commanding auxiliaries and non-combatant units, provided that they have had sufficient time on the bridge. Let me emphasise that I am not suggesting that officers with a platform engineering background are necessarily ineffective as combatant captains. What I am saying is that the individuals concerned would be much better off – and much better war fighters if they were differently prepared. There just isn’t enough time to do otherwise.

Let me return to explain one point – my view that the USN system can be better for a navy. If one is to accept that platform engineers as a group must be ‘Engineering Duty Only’, this must not result in their exclusion from the highest levels of decision making and influence. The USN has achieved as much as it has in the last seventy and more years because it got its platform engineering right so many times. And where it did not, it soon knew what to do to fix the problem. This must continue.

However, I do believe that the USN has evolved a generally more effective approach to combat systems management than the RN or the RAN both at sea and ashore. This is another area in which there could be more theory and practical training for warfare officers within our organisations. While I assess that there is a vital space for the specialists that the British describe as ‘Weapon Engineers’, I do not think that the British (and Australian) system has allowed surface warfare officers to develop sufficient understanding of their technology and the operation of their weapon and sensor systems since the old warfare sub-specialisations such as gunnery and ASW were replaced by the Principal Warfare Officer concept in the 1970s. The PWO possessed a much improved ability to make a correct, no-notice response to an immediate threat, no matter whether it was from over, on or under the sea, but it was partly at the expense of the much deeper system knowledge of his predecessors and to the detriment of a much more equal relationship with the Weapon Engineers who were and are responsible for the preparation, maintenance and readiness of the weapons, sensors, computers and communications concerned. Our navies have a lot to do in this area.

I don’t have any simple solutions for all this, but I will finish with one point. Whatever career system is adopted, it will only work if a truly professional attitude is adopted by all concerned. This includes, above all, a welcoming and inclusive approach to the new joiners that makes it clear that high standards are essential, but provides every opportunity to them to achieve their professional goals. Command at sea remains one of the most worthwhile experiences it is possible to have, but central to its value is encouraging and developing the young. None of our navies have always been as consistently focused on this as we should have been, but it is vital. As a very distinguished admiral once said, “You spend your first command proving yourself to yourself. You should spend your second and subsequent commands proving other people to themselves.”

He was – and is – right, but it also applies to every step in the surface warfare officer ladder. We all need to remember that we are there, amongst other things, to train our relief

Global Analysis

Leading Where? Reflection on “Saltwater Leadership”

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By Erik Sand

In his book Saltwater Leadership, Rear Admiral Robert O. Wray admits that he is not trying to add to the body of leadership knowledge. He seeks to provide a condensed, tailored, leadership primer for junior sea service officers. He includes tidbits from 35 books and stories and advice from hundreds of seagoing leaders. Wray limits his explicit advice but implicitly portrays his vision of successful leadership through the excerpts and anecdotes he includes. While the leaders he envisions would succeed as junior officers, I am left wondering if they would have the skills needed to guide an organization in to the future.

Wray begins by asking, “What is leadership?” He determines that “leadership is the process of getting people to do things.”[1] This simple idea encapsulates the daily tasks of a junior officer. Whether on watch or working with a division, new junior officers must ensure the completion of tasks for which they lack the training to complete themselves. They can complete few of their responsibilities without the work of others.

Yet, Wray quickly muddies the water in answering his next question: “What is the difference between leadership and management?” He provides his own answer along with answers from various scholars and practitioners. In several cases, Wray’s definition of leadership sounds more like what these experts consider management. Wray writes, “Some say that leadership is deciding what to do, and why, while management focuses on how.”[2] The “how” of management seems more like the “process” of his leadership definition than what or why. Similarly, he quotes a leadership expert who states, “A leader knows what’s best to do; a manager knows how best to do it.”[3]

Wray’s original definition of leadership is not wrong. Indeed, it reflects exactly the qualities that earn promotion in today’s Navy. Rather, the contradiction between Wray’s original definition of leadership and his discussion of leadership and management demonstrates that eventually leaders must do more than get things done. Leaders must choose the right things to do.

Wray would likely agree. Leadership is prone to lists, he explains, because many traits and skills are required for success. The exclusion of certain traits from his core definition should not mean those traits are unimportant. The omission of “what and why,” however, continues through the book. Wray surveyed 380 naval leaders from senior enlisted to admirals asking what traits were most important for junior officer success. Integrity, character, and trustworthiness topped the list. Summarizing the overall result, he describes successful junior officers as “ honest, hardworking teammates.”[4] No one should downplay these virtues. They are essential for successful leadership, but they tend toward “how.” The respondents deemed traits needed to make determinations about “what and why” less important. Analytical thinking came in at 18 of 76, and inspiration, vision, scholarship, insight, inquisitiveness, and conviction fell in the bottom third.

The book may emphasize “how” over “what and why” because it targets junior officers. Junior officers spend more effort on the process of doing than on deciding what to do and why to do it. If, however, the skills needed for successful leadership change as a career progresses, the book does not mention it. At some points, it suggests the opposite. Wray writes that “leadership lessons and concepts can be universal.” [5] When he provides caveats, he compares the boardroom and the battlefield not the deckplates and the Captain’s chair. Moreover, several of the stories he includes, such an aircraft carrier captain facing an unconfirmed report of a man-overboard, describe situations a junior officer would almost never face. These stories teach valuable lessons about leadership and life at sea, but their inclusion reinforces the sense that the while the book is tailored for junior officers its view of leadership is not.

 

The Navy has used checklists and written procedures for decades. Today, however, units receive more direction from headquarters than ever before. Type commanders not only direct what training evolutions ships must complete and when, but they also provide detailed grading rubrics specifying exactly how those evolutions must be accomplished. Time dedicated to growing administrative requirements distracts officers from core competencies. Just as Saltwater Leadership seems to focus on the undoubtedly important “how” at the expense of the equally important “what and why,” so too does our Navy.

Admiral Wray has produced a useful compilation of leadership advice for junior officers learning how to lead and how to get things done, but unless those new leaders also learn to make decisions about what must done and why, our future Navy will find itself underway but adrift.

Erik Sand is an active duty U.S. Navy Surface Warfare Officer stationed at the Pentagon. His views do not reflect those of the Department of Defense or the U.S. Navy. He is indebted to the contributions of Midshipman Amanda Assenmarcher for providing a perspective from this book’s intended audience.

 

[1] Wray, Robert O., Saltwater Leadership: A Primer on Leadership for the Junior Sea-Service Officer (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2013), 5.

[2] Wray, Saltwater Leadership, 6.

[3] Wray, Saltwater Leadership, 6.

[4] Wray, Saltwater Leadership, 85.

[5] Wray, Saltwater Leadership, 11.

Seamanship and Leadership

Forging Leadership Worthy of Warriors

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Men and women volunteering to serve their country during a time of war have a right to be taken seriously. They deserve a leadership capable of serving them as they serve the nation, throughout all phases of their career and current conflicts.

Three articles written in two separate military thought forums have put leadership on notice of late:

In “Millennials Bring a New Mentality: Does it Fit?” by CDR Darcie Cunningham, USCG, published in USNI’s Proceedings Magazine, the author argues that the most recent generation of military warfighters is lacking in adherence to the author’s view of military traditions, customs, and courtesies. She argues that millennials should recognize their place as subordinates and refrain from questioning senior leaders or asking “Why?” Cunningham writes, “We take pride in the missions we perform, serving as humble servants to the public. If millennials are more focused on what’s in it for them, they may not be the right fit.”

In “Fireproof Commanding Officers” by LT Lawrence Heyworth IV, USN, published in USNI’s Proceedings Magazine, the author discusses recent high-profile firings of commanding officers. He argues that “a career built on solid ethics and character development is the best way to safeguard naval leaders from relief due to personal misconduct.” He debunks the myths that ethically weak COs are either “bad apples” or “of weak moral character.” Rather, Heyworth concludes that commanding officers are predisposed to ethical failures due to their access to power, resources, an inflated sense of self-worth, and a loss of focus.

Unlike Cunningham’s analysis, Heyworth does not argue that senior leaders are “more equipped to take on increased levels of responsibility” based solely on their time in service. Rather, he argues that “deep and consistent introspection,” reading philosophy, and applying moral lessons each day can help leaders avoid ethical shortcomings and set the example.

Finally, in “Wasting the Warrior Culture: The Story of Frank” by Baz Khan, published in The Havok Journal, the author centers his discussion on a quote attributed to the Greek philosopher Heraclitus:

“For every one hundred men you send us, ten should not even be here. Eighty are nothing but targets. Nine of them are real fighters; we are lucky to have them, they the battle make. Ah, but the one. One of them is a warrior. And he will bring the others back.”

In his article, Khan argues that “Frank” is “the one;” “exactly the kind of knuckle dragging gunslinger that you want at your side when everything goes to shit, you’re surrounded and you need someone to help you carve an emergency exit out of lead, broken bones and charred human flesh.” But, as with most true warriors, Frank is “pretty rough on the edges;” he struggles with alcohol to cope with the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that comes from numerous, highly kinetic deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Khan’s analysis is of the Marine Corps, but it is spot-on for the naval service as well:

“We were willing to overlook some cosmetic defects while we were fighting a war on two fronts but now it appears that these violent and coarse warriors are unacceptable in our post-war, garrison focused military.  It seems that guys like Frank do not have a place in our modern Marine Corps.  We are putting down our scarred and battle weary war dogs and promoting porcelain dolls in their place.  Haircuts, close order drill and trouser creases now hold greater appeal to promotion boards than Purple Hearts, valor awards and combat experience.”

Sailors, soldiers, airmen, and Marines swear an oath to “uphold the Constitution of the United States.” These men and women dedicate their lives–regardless of their service or proximity to combat–to that end. (And contrary to what CDR Cunningham writes, they do not need to be “reminded of the current economy and associated unemployment rate.” That sentiment cheapens the service of thousands of young people.) And while I sympathize with the points brought out by LT Heyworth and agree that reflection and a strong moral compass is essential, our focus on the actions of commanding officers is misplaced.

Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Jonathan Greenert takes as his motto: “Warfighting First. Operate Forward. Be Ready.” If we are to regard his priorities seriously, it reasons that the warriors doing our warfighting should be first and foremost.

But in today’s Navy, they are an afterthought. Washington leadership passes down the law via Navy Knowledge Online (NKO) and mandatory trainings with pre-recorded speeches from the CNO and MCPON. The message of this training insinuates that the Navy has problems, and the leadership is here to fix them. Sexual assault, alcohol abuse, and other issues are lectured ad nauseum to sailors in computer programs and Page 13 forms, often at the expense of a commanding officer, division officer, of Chief Petty Officer addressing these concerns and setting the tone within the unit.

An American president once said, “There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America.” So it is with our Navy. When 99% of our sailors are doing the right thing, punishing the group for the misdeeds of a few is leadership that takes the easy way out. It is not worthy of the warriors that it serves.

In his seminal essay “The Institution as Servant,” Robert Greenleaf maintains that “caring for persons, the more able and the less able serving each other, is the rock upon which a good society is built.” The concept of servant leadership, inspired by Greenleaf, has only been around for about four decades, but those grasping its tenets have been some of the most successful military leaders of our time.

Above all, servant leadership is about putting the needs of the ship or sailor above the petty wants or needs of the leader. Servant leaders inspire a vision, develop their people, and maintain trust. They are loyal to each individual as much as possible; they are tenacious advocates for their people.

A return to servant leadership is imperative to the vitality and future of our service. The question leaders should ask is not, as CDR Cunningham suggests, “Will [sailors] truly be able to adapt to the service?” but rather, “How can I set my sailors up for success?”

Deeper still, a sense of servant leadership must permeate down from the top of our service. When we more easily promote people who look good on paper and have the blessing of bureaucracy, we are not serving our sailors as we should. When we perpetuate a “zero defect” mentality that banishes a sailor to the darkest corner of our service for any transgression, we are not serving our sailors as we should. When we look around every corner for “signs of insubordination or disrespect” instead of using our efforts to help our people excel, we are not serving our sailors as we should.

LT Heyworth makes an excellent point: “The failure to lead by personal example and the impact of a CO’s relief can have far-reaching and long-lasting consequences for a crew of more than 250 sailors.” When leaders systematically fail to inspire vision, establish trust, and recognize excellence in their sailors, the effects are even farther-reaching and longer-lasting. This is the current troubling state of retention and advancement throughout both the officer and enlisted corps.

CDR Cunningham’s exhortations–“They should be reminded that there’s a long line of people outside the door waiting for a Coast Guard spot”–are not the leadership answer for the generation she writes about. Khan comes closer to the truth:

“There will come a time in the future when our nation will once again find itself in a time of great darkness and evil. Young men, yet untested in battle, will look to their leaders for guidance and find instead hollow vessels without the steel or stones necessary to lead men into battle. The painted soldiers on the parade fields will shake in terror and search desperately for the rough men like Frank who shepherded them through the last conflict for guidance only to find that they have all been weeded out of service. This is unacceptable.”

By serving those under our care as leaders, by advocating for them–even against a stubborn naval bureaucracy built up over years of legislating and obfuscating–and by delivering vision, honesty, and empathy, we can begin to “course-correct” the troubling leadership issues of this century. The men and women volunteering for selfless service deserve this effort, every day.

Roger Misso is a Naval Flight Officer in the E-2C Hawkeye and former director of the Naval Academy Foreign Affairs Conference. The views expressed here are his own and in no way represent the views of the US government, US Navy, or his unit.