James Auvil is a career officer who writes health policy for the U.S. Army and provides health care fraud expertise to federal entities. This article contains the views of the author and does not necessarily reflect the views of the Department of the Army, the Department of Defense or the United States Government.
In Part I: A Prescription for Toxicosis, I defined the Boxer as a hybrid of the Boomer/Xer generation, cursed with unlimited drive and an absence of trust. Unlike the Boomers who saved the Army after Vietnam and prepared it to fight and win through Desert Shield/Desert Storm, Boxers nefariously used technology and policy to centralize power, punitively track effort and shift personal responsibility onto the organization. Boxers created timid permission-seeking leaders who became exceptionally good at telling them what they wanted to hear. This post presents a justification for change in case a total lack of trust across the enterprise isn't reason enough. It then describes the significant administrative challenge ahead and ends by explaining how my generation has the opportunity and skill set to restore trust.
“The people when rightly and fully trusted will return the trust.” — Abraham Lincoln
It’s always best to start with why. We need to restore trust so leaders feel comfortable reporting information honestly. Leaders need to know the bosscan handle the truth; if they report “bad news” the boss will primarily focus on fixing the problem and not blame. We are also strongly interested in winning on poorly defined, politically-charged and rapidly changing battlefields and that requires trust.
The Army Operating Concept (TRADOC Pam 525–3–1) states: “What all Army operations will have in common is a need for innovative and adaptive leaders and cohesive teams that thrive in conditions of complexity and uncertainty.” It says nothing about compliance-driven permission seekers wrapped in reflective belts. We won’t generate innovative and adaptive leaders by defining every aspect of their Army experience, boxing them into an increasingly delineated space. We need to make policy deliberately general and less specific so leaders have room to innovate and exercise judgement. The 10,000 foot screwdriver must become the tool of last resort. I’m talking to you, COL Mandatory Training.
Tomorrow’s leaders won’t be able to pause every five steps to ask permission, answer random data calls or ensure compliance with some well-intentioned, but non-critical, task. Situations evolve faster than the permission cycle churns and it’s only going to get more intense. Cut the cord and actively trust the leaders you select for critical positions. Mentor them, resource them, and provide basic guidance. We can afford to back off top-driven requirements and directives, and if we want to restore trust across the Army, we must back off. Leaders will ask for additional guidance when they need it.
In the preface to the Operating Concept, General David Perkins wrote, “Leaders at all levels must encourage prudent risk and not allow bureaucratic processes to stifle them.” I don’t know about you, but I feel stifled and I don’t like it. He also wrote, “We must not be consumed with focusing solely on avoiding risk…” That speaks volumes.
To fully appreciate the administrative task ahead, you need to know the backstory. Soon after I began my current job, I participated in an Army Publication Directorate (APD) teleconference. I’ll share just three highlights because I am a merciful man. First, DoD has a five year shelf-life goal for all publications, which applies to roughly 900 Army publications. To meet the goal, the Army must revise an average of 180 publications per year, or roughly three and a half per week, every week, every year, forever unless something changes. Second, staffing cannot exceed 24 months; any longer and the process must start over because stale content is bad. Time-related horror stories exist and I’m living three of them right now; one goes back to1986. Finally, APD requires a No Legal Objections (NLO) memo; legal review usually consumes four months, if you’re lucky. That time can be as short as nine days if your publication attracts national attention, but that is generally frowned upon in this establishment.
Besides the erosion of organizational trust, flawed policy persists for two main reasons. First, people are too busy for a deep dive, so proponents lack quality feedback from the field. The phrase “it’s only a lot of reading if you do it” remains relevant. I recently reduced a major publication by nearly half and — after an internal command review, an external command review and an all-Army review — nearly all the feedback read simply, “reviewed without comment.” It would be naive to conclude this response was a result of my exceptionally fine work. Words have meaning: reviewed rarely means read in full with a critical eye.
Second, it’s easier and less controversial to do the same thing the last guy did unless you’re assigned to the USS Cowpens, which is unlikely for Army personnel. How many times have you heard, “All policies remain in effect… ” minutes after someone takes command? Then over the course of a few weeks, new policy letters start popping up and the only changes are the date and signature block. That’s just not good enough anymore.
Army publications usually print the name of one or more senior leaders on the first few pages. They must feel like terminally-frustrated soothsayers, able to see what’s over the horizon, but unable to get the Army positioned fast enough. Just in time is for manufacturers, not militaries. These senior leaders count on staff officers from my generation to codify their vision into policy and guidance.
My generation must correct the “requirements overload” problem as we write and direct policy over the next decade. We will literally write policy as staff officers and we will literally direct policy as commanders. We will choose the words, recommend changes and provide feedback to decision makers at the highest levels who clearly know things must change. Some of us will be those decision makers. When a 4-star accuses the Army of being “solely focused on avoiding risk” you know we have a serious problem.
As Dr. Wong pointed out in his generation study: “…[Xers] were encouraged to think critically and challenge whoever thought they had the right answer… [and are]… extremely competent and willing to work hard.” Those qualities are perfect for this task: question everything, choose the best solution, and work hard to fix problems.
In the next ten years, each of the 900 Army publications will be revised twice, moving through the hands of Xer staff officers, subject matter experts and commanders. If you’re an Xer, do not screw up these opportunities. Eagerly anticipate them. With the end user in mind, lean on your experiences, channel your frustrations and relentlessly search for redundant, antiquated, excessively specific and just plain stupid tasks and kill them at your level to the greatest extent possible. Keep your boss informed and prepare for the sea of “reviewed without comment” responses to fill your inbox in glorious confirmation of your righteousness. If we make the right decisions, we will enable a more innovative force and infuse flexibility into the system. Most importantly, we will restore trust and through trust, we’ll set the conditions to enable future leaders to be innovative and adaptive.
In Part III, I will propose an academically honest framework for requirements.
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