Whipped Cream Difficulties

Today’s example is also taken from Clear and Present Danger.

Jack Ryan is visiting his dying mentor, Admiral Greer, in the hospital for the last time.

“But what about—”
“Politics? All that shit?” Greer almost laughed. “Jack, you know, when you lay here like this, you know what you think about? You think about all the things you’d like another chance at, all the mistakes, all the people you might have treated better, and you thank God that it wasn’t worse. Jack, you will never regret honesty, even if it hurts people. When they made you a Marine lieutenant you swore an oath before God. I understand why we do that now. It’s a help, not a threat. It’s something to remind you how important words are. Ideas are important. Principles are important. Words are important. Your word is the most important of all. Your word is who you are.”

That quote’s heavy-handed enough that I think the lesson is obvious. But I find the simplicity of those last few words deeply moving.

Ideas are important. Principles are important. Words are important. Your word is the most important of all. Your word is who you are.

I think American business would be vastly improved if everyone, before they took on any sort of leadership position, was required to swear an oath before God. Maybe something like this:

We will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.

I’m drawing my text today from Tom Clancy’s Clear and Present Danger.

I know that it’s trendy to sneer at Clancy. I haven’t read any of his fiction except Clear and Present Danger and The Hunt for Red October, both of which I thought were pretty spiffy thrillers. For all I know, his more recent works of fiction could be steaming piles. I have read a fair amount of his recent non-fiction military history interview books (Shadow Warriors, Every Man a Tiger, and Into the Storm) and I admire what I think Clancy is trying to do with those books; basically, he wants to be the S.L.A. Marshall of our generation.

This is getting slightly off-topic. What I’m getting at is, I’m not a blind admirer of Clancy, but Clear and Present Danger is a book that made a strong impression on me.

Here’s the background for this exchange. It comes from Chapter 1 of the book, “The King of SAR”. Clancy is drawing a character portrait of his heroic Coast Guard commander, “Red” Wegener. He’s already given us some of the character’s background, and how he came to command the Panache. The Panache is a pretty screwed-up new ship; the shipyard workers are on strike, the shipyard is bankrupt, and the process of commissioning the ship was badly botched. One of the first things Wegener’s told after taking command is that they can’t get more than 50% power out of the ship’s engines without them overheating.

Wegener manages to sneak the ship out of dock and out to sea, and puts his men to work fixing what’s been screwed up.

Wegener had been on the bridge, napping in his leather chair during the forenoon watch when the growler phone rang, and Chief Owens invited him to the engine room. Wegener arrived to find the only worktable covered with plans, and an engineman-apprentice hovering over them, with his engineering officer standing behind him.
“You ain’t gonna believe it,” Owens announced. “Tell him, sonny.”
“Seaman Obrecki, sir. The engine isn’t installed right,” the youngster said.
“What makes you think that?” Wegener asked.
The big marine diesels were of a new sort, perversely designed to be very easy to operate and maintain. To aid in this, small how-to manuals were provided for each engine-room crewman, and in each manual was a plastic-coated diagram that was far easier to use than the builder’s plans. A blow-up of the manual schematic, also plastic-coated, had been provided by the drafting company, and was the laminated top of the worktable.
“Sir, this engine is a lot like the one on my dad’s tractor, bigger, but-”
“I’ll take your word for it, Obrecki.”
“The turbocharger ain’t installed right. It matches with these plans here, but the oil pump pushes the oil through the turbo-charger backwards. The plans are wrong, sir. Some draftsman screwed up. See here, sir? The oil line’s supposed to come in here, but the draftsman put it on the wrong side of this fitting, and nobody caught it, and-”
Wegener just laughed. He looked at Chief Owens: “How long to fix?”
“Obrecki says he can have it up and running this time tomorrow, Cap’n.”
“Sir.” It was Lieutenant Michelson, the engineering officer. “This is all my fault. I should have-” The lieutenant was waiting for the sky to fall.
“The lesson from this, Mr. Michelson, is that you can’t even trust the manual. Have you learned that lesson, Mister?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Fair enough. Obrecki, you’re a seaman-first, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wrong. You’re a machinist-mate third.”
“Sir, I have to pass a written exam…”
“You think Obrecki’s passed that exam, Mr. Michelson?”
“You bet, sir.”
“Well done, people. This time tomorrow I want to do twenty-three knots.”
And it had all been downhill from there. The engines are the mechanical heart of any ship, and there is no seaman in the world who prefers a slow ship to a fast one. When Panache had made twenty-five knots and held that speed for three hours, the painters painted better, the cooks took a little more time with the meals, and the technicians tightened their bolts just a little more. Their ship was no longer a cripple, and pride broke out in the crew like a rainbow after a summer shower – all the more so because one of their own had figured it out.

Here’s what I take away from this:

1. Wegener’s interaction with the engineering officer. The guy screwed up; he knows he screwed up, and he knows how he screwed up. Wegener knows he knows and doesn’t dwell on it. “Have you learned that lesson, Mister?” “Yes, sir!” “Fair enough.” End of discussion. (At least at that time; we don’t know if Wegener and Michelson had another conversation later, but if they did, you can bet it was in private, not in front of Michelson’s subordinates.)
2. This isn’t really a leadership lesson, but it is one worth remembering: “You can’t even trust the manual.” I’ve learned that lesson myself the hard way.
3. Wegener’s interaction with Obrecki. Obrecki figures out the problem and the solution; Wegener rewards him on the spot, in public, and in front of his superiors (the engineering officer and chief). Cause and effect; you’re rewarded for good work, and Wegener makes that clear early in his command. Plus; praise in public, criticize in private.
4. “…all the more so because one of their own had figured it out.” There’s nothing better than doing it yourself, with your own people. When your own people figure out, or build it themselves, it improves morale. Even the people who weren’t directly involved can feel proud, and it gives them an incentive to step up.

(Side note: I have at least one, and possibly two, more posts in this series planned out, plus one post that doesn’t involve a fictional character. If any of my loyal readers has suggestions for additional works of fiction that illuminate good points about leadership, I’d welcome hearing from you; either in comments or via email to stainles [at]  mac.com.)

Some of the best lessons in leadership I’ve learned have come from works of fiction. I’ve been thinking a lot more about leadership recently, for various reasons, and decided it was time to kick off this irregular series of posts.

My mind was made up by something a person (who shall remain nameless for the moment) said to me yesterday in conversation (in case it isn’t clear, they were being sarcastic):

Management is a priestly caste. You can’t possibly expect them to soil their hands doing the same work as their underlings. That would make them unclean. That would be like expecting Pelosi’s brood to fly commercial rather than take Air Force planes.

I thought for my first post I’d draw from one of my favorite books and movies, Thomas Harris’ The Silence of the Lambs.

Here’s the background for this exchange: Jack Crawford, head of the FBI Behavioral Science Section, took Clarice Starling, the trainee agent, with him to West Virgina to do forensics on one of Buffalo Bill’s (the serial killer Crawford and Starling are hunting) victims. While they were there, Crawford did a sort of shuck and jive routine about “giving the little woman some privacy” to clear the room so Starling could work. Now they’re coming home from the trip; Crawford is being dropped off at FBI headquarters for the night.

She realized then that he’d gotten her out of the car so he could speak with her privately.
“When I told that deputy he and I shouldn’t talk in front of a woman, that burned you, didn’t it?”
“Sure.”
“It was just smoke. I wanted to get him by himself.”
“I know that.”
“Okay.” Crawford slammed the trunk and turned away.
Starling couldn’t let it go.
“It matters, Mr. Crawford.”
He was turning back to her, laden with his fax machine and briefcase, and she had his full attention.
“Those cops know who you are,” she said, “They look at you to see how to act.” She stood steady, shrugged her shoulders, opened her palms. There it was, it was true.
Crawford performed a measurement on his cold scales.
“Duly noted, Starling. Now get on with the bug.”
“Yes sir.”
She watched him walk away, a middle-aged man laden with cases and rumpled from flying, his cuffs muddy from the riverbank, going home to what he did at home.
She would have killed for him then. That was one of Crawford’s great talents.

What do I take away from this?

1. Being a leader means you’re being watched. Every day, people are watching you; not just your superiors, but the people under you, and even people you don’t know. The people under you are watching how you act, and how you behave; they are going to model their behavior after yours, for good or bad. What you do matters.
2. “…she had his full attention.” Full attention. Not distracted by the cell phone, or email, or IM. Clarice has Jack’s full attention.
3. The best leaders have the ability to chew your ass out, or take an ass-chewing, and still make you want to go out and kill for them.

The movie does include this exchange; Demme’s direction of it is pitch-perfect. If I could find it on YouTube, I’d link to it.