The U.S. Navy is perhaps the most technically-oriented service in the American military. Officers work their way up by developing and demonstrating comprehensive and immediate skills in the numerous individual systems that make ships responsive in combat. The focus here tends to be on technical competence – not necessarily on the sort of personal leadership ability that is emphasized more during an officer‘s development in the other services, especially the Army and the Marines.
This is a reflection of the circumstances of the varying units when in combat. When an Army or Marine unit is engaging an enemy force, often only the leadership environment assiduously and continuously cultivated up to that point, and given immediate and individual expression under that stress, can seem to be holding a unit together.
But aboard a Navy ship at war, there is no danger of anyone slipping away into the hills. Everyone knows that both their unit’s victory and their individual survival depend on the technical knowledge and ability of the one man issuing orders from the captain‘s chair on the bridge. And if you are ever aboard a ship that goes to general quarters, you will see that reality in breathtaking action – everything and everyone responds as one to their training, and to the skipper‘s command.
And yet, the Navy consistently seems to produce some of the most impressive individuals in terms of what is more traditionally understood as leadership that I’ve seen in the military. Out of that technical development pipeline come some truly remarkable ship’s captains. How does that happen? We’ll be touching on that general question over the next few days.
But here’s one Navy officer’s take on it: Captain D. Michael Abrashoff is the best-selling author of It’s Your Ship, which launched a busy speaking career for him on his retirement from the service. In this new book, It’s Our Ship, he undertakes to emphasize a point he feels he insufficiently addressed in his first book.
One of his purposes here is to point out how everyone in the unit must be engaged not only to advance the unit’s goals, but to intelligently and proactively integrate their own disparate disciplines in doing so. He does a fine job with this. In particular, he provides one of the best and most illuminating descriptions I’ve seen of an important executive threshold, the passing from specialist to generalist management.
There are a number of genuinely practical lessons for managers at all levels in this book, effectively illustrated with stories from the author’s experience as skipper of a powerful Navy warship, and amplified with vignettes from some of the civilian organizations he has worked with since his Navy days.
One thing the author makes no bones about, however, is his belief in the importance of individual leadership. Indeed, this book may have the densest population of the word “leader” and its derivatives that you will have encountered in some time.
In my view, this is a weakness. From “tales from the front lines” books like this I want to learn what you did, not how singular you are for having done it, or how electric an effect you had on your staff.
For example, members of the author’s crew don’t seem to be able to do anything while under his command, or to make something of themselves subsequently, without making him “proud” of them. This may seem like a minor blemish, but it mars the text repeatedly. It reveals a distinctly paternalistic and patronizing suggestion that these people’s accomplishments are essentially the product of the author’s leadership, as though their individual abilities and characters, while necessary prerequisites to their successes, were not sufficient ones. Only under his leadership were they able to find themselves and to blossom.
One major surprise for me arose from one of the author’s stated purposes for writing this book. He begins it with a remarkable admission concerning his career as skipper: “. . . I never did one thing to help another ship in the group in the two years I spent as [my ship's] commander.” In fact, he goes on, he practically gloated in besting his fellow ship captains.
He commendably acknowledges this as a shortcoming. It is one he dedicates the book, at least partially, to examining in order to help his readers avoid his mistake.
But when you turn over the last page of the book, you will find that this has not been done. There is a brief discussion of how he thinks he should have gone to his own boss and suggested how the latter ought to establish policy to incentivize the author and his fellow skippers to work better together – a remarkably presumptuous endeavor for a subordinate line – rather than a staff, say, an executive – officer to undertake.
But there is no discussion of professional networking and mutually beneficial collaboration that the skippers could have initiated on their own. This happens all the time in the military, despite the very real competition. Rather, after the introductory revelation of this heartfelt failure, we hear no more of it. Why is that?
This is a helpful book, but I do strongly caution the reader to tread skeptically and carefully through the purported lessons on leadership in this volume. Try to look past the peculiarly insistent glorification of the intensely self-referential leader that is woven throughout the text, to the many truly insightful stories about organizational goals advanced and staff development accomplished that are there, as well.
For those with no military experience, this is a genuinely eye-opening introduction to the world-class management challenges faced by one alert, proactive, and, in the end, highly effective US Navy officer. It will also offer many actionable ideas for civilian managers at all levels both for administering their organizations and developing their own careers. Pick up a copy. Just (as with everything you read) keep a good lookout as you navigate your way through it!
—
Today’s tip: Speaking of mistaking the sizzle for the steak, please see this superb explanation of the vital differences between branding and advertising, by Cam Beck of ChaosScenario.
—
Have you noticed the blue “Sphere” icon, below? When you click on it, it will produce a window offering you content related to today’s item from other blogs and the regular media. Give it a try!
And, while you’re clicking around down there, don’t forget to subscribe, by email or RSS reader!
Technorati Tags: U.S., Navy, American, military, skill, combat, competence, leadership, officer, development, Army, Marines, war, victory, survival, captain, general quarters, skipper, command, Abrashoff, executive, specialist, generalist, management, manager, organization, leader, professional, networking, collaboration, competition, career, branding, advertising, Cam Beck, ChaosScenario
Sphere: Related Content
















“Only under his leadership were they able to find themselves and to blossom.”
This is one of my pet peeves, too. It’s as if to say that people who are not in leadership roles with real authority cannot demonstrate leadership skills on par with any general officer.
They can. But their circumstances partially dictate how they can use those skills. Sometimes the best leader is one who can through example show how others should faithfully follow. This misconception is a real shortcoming in the popular view of leadership.
As you know, one of the key characteristics of the Marine Corps is its ability to develop small-unit leaders. Marines do not perform their jobs without failure, but the system is organized so that the younger can learn from the more experienced. They learn, they adapt, and in the process, they become better leaders.
To be clear, let’s acknowledge the leadership it took to create a system that effectively facilitates the development of such leaders from the ground up.
The top-down approach you described not only is annoying because it’s fundamentally wrong, but it’s a missed opportunity. A lot of quality individuals serve in the Navy. Who knows what kind of leaders they could have turned out to be (in the military or in civilian life) if only the “leaders” above them didn’t look at them as if they were children who couldn’t be trusted?
Hi Cam,
That’s good – it did take real leadership to develop the USMC leadership system, didn’t it? Leadership that was able to hang in through the mistakes, knowing that they were showing the way – even essential paving stones for the way – forward. That’s good.
I wonder if paternalistic leadership is characteristic of essentially technical or system-oriented cultures, to the extent that it exists as an individual phenomenon there? That’s a good question. I will say that I am still amazed at some of the really quality commanders I’ve seen emerge in the Navy, right where they’re needed.
I think there may be lessons in that, as well – in the command inattention to the subject that perhaps allows some real quality to surface. That’s worth thinking about some more.
As always, thought-provoking observations. Thanks Cam!
“What Peter tells me about Paul tells me more about Peter than it does about Paul.” Does that apply here? Braque once commented that “What makes art, art is the part that can’t be explained.” Same with “leadership”?
I wonder if the point gets lost here. The author does say that the indispensable “leaders” in the Navy are the Chief Petty Officers. Having been the Operations Officer on the “best damn ship in the squadron” (a far cry from the whole Navy), I would be quick to agree.
Our cultural predispositions may be showing through. Hierarchy is ubiquitous in nature. No organization, no society, does a perfect job of filtering out those who ought to lead from those who ought not. The cadets at West Point are subjected to four years of learning how to “follow.” That comes from the proposition that the best leaders always come from the ranks of the best followers. That could be wrong, but not by fiat.
Maybe we should not be learning how to “lead,” but how to become great followers, if for no reason other than the one cannot be any better than the other.
Certainly removing the obstacles and challenges to performing leadership will not make better leaders. Sure, there are probably many potentially better pianists out there than those who are our celebrities. But that by itself does not guarantee they could perform better than those who have competed to get there.
Competition has become anathema to us in this culture. But the Samurai (for example) did not suffer from pop psychology.
Hello Lee,
These comments are just loaded with insight – you should write a post based on each line. To begin with, your reference to the difficulty of defining leadership I think is important, particularly when contrasted with the flood of people who nevertheless pontificate with ill-founded authority on it.
That CPOs are key elements of the leadership environment in the US Navy is a hint at what is really going on, I think, and at why overly self-referential leadership is so often particularly exposed for what it is in the military, where leadership exists so widely, just waiting to be allowed to work, rather than, oddly enough, forced to merely fall in line. There, obviously, is plenty of that, just as outside the military, but I think it can be less clear than many of us think to know how or when to call that one thing (leadership) or the other (followership).
My favorite line in your remarks: “But that by itself does not guarantee they could perform better than those who have competed to get there.”
There is an awful lot there.
Thanks so much for this provocative collection of ideas on this topic!