This is the problem of toxic, absentee, and self-aggrandizing leadership.
Toxicity isn’t just about prototypical abuse by an authority figure. The popularized image of the charcoal-gargling bully humiliating followers like a bull in a china shop is part of the phenomenon, but not all of it.
Toxicity also manifests by a level of inaction, ineptitude, or self-concern that tacitly disregards the welfare of subordinates, approves abuse by others, or creates a climate within which abuse is a foreseeable consequence. In making this proposition, I rely on the definition furnished by Army Doctrine Publication 6-22:
“Toxic leadership is a combination of self-centered attitudes, motivations, and behaviors that have adverse effects on subordinates, the organization, and mission performance. This leader lacks concern for others and the climate of the organization, which leads to short- and long-term negative effects. The toxic leader operates with an inflated sense of self-worth and from acute self-interest. Toxic leaders consistently use dysfunctional behaviors to deceive, intimidate, coerce, or unfairly punish others to get what they want for themselves. The negative leader completes short-term requirements by operating at the bottom of the continuum of commitment, where followers respond to the positional power of their leader to fulfill requests. This may achieve results in the short term, but ignores the other leader competency categories of leads and develops. Prolonged use of negative leadership to influence followers undermines the followers’ will, initiative, and potential and destroys unit morale.”
Notably, the Air Force doesn’t define the concept in its own doctrine, which is a way of denying the phenomenon exists. The exclusion speaks volumes about why the problem persists.
The character archetype of the Mean Boss can indicate toxicity, but the concept is much more subtle. The hinge is self-concern. A “mean” but unselfish boss can be effective, but an outwardly “nice” yet excessively selfish boss can be incredibly destructive.
But the problem does persist, and this is not mysterious. Even in healthy organizations, it stands to reason that a small number of candidates with hidden or unnoticed character flaws will rise to leadership positions. Whether an organization has a healthy overall climate hinges largely on how it responds when these flaws are crystallized through leader performance and conduct. Healthy organizations note and deal swiftly with toxic conduct, while unhealthy ones resist doing so.
Unfortunately, the service has adopted roughly the opposite perspective. Senior officials pretend a problem-free and infallible senior cadre.
But their denial cannot change reality.
From time to time, Air Force officers in leadership positions misuse, abuse, or fail to adequately apply their authority. When it happens, they must be called to account and held to the same rules and expectations exacted of those they lead.
When this doesn’t happen, the rules are exposed as toothless and selectively applicable. Airmen conclude that rank is an entitlement to set aside the rules and re-make them to suit the leader’s preferences. This not only offends the concept of “service before self,” it is the textbook definition of corruption. Authority, properly calibrated, is more about discretion and less about power-wielding.
The Air Force too often closes ranks around corrupt leaders, failing to hold them accountable when they wield power to marginalize or destroy subordinates – often because juniors dared to question or suggest limits upon their power. When this happens too often, it is both a manifestation of and an invitation to fascism in the ranks. The less energetically it is policed, the more it occurs, especially as pragmatic junior officers take note of how abusing investigative and administrative processes aids in the survival and rise of the empowered. This is one of the ways in which a culture begins to brew toxicity.
The current iteration of the Air Force does too little to rein in destructive leaders, and in the wake of official timidity lies the human wreckage of destroyed careers, forgotten families, and airmen disillusioned by bearing witness to capricious or arbitrary conduct. Coupled with its reticence to control unhinged leaders is a stubborn penchant for stonewalling that gives toxic commanders unlimited cover. They can cashier or hound a disfavored subordinate based on an unacknowledged pretext, safe in the knowledge that they’ll never be forced to render a rationale beyond the vague and vacuous notion of “loss of confidence.”
Through excess tolerance and opacity, the Air Force risks entrenching an unaccountable environment that cannot carry out the nation’s air and space defense requirements.
What follows is an incomplete but representative run-down of some of the more notable cases of toxicity among senior Air Force officers over the past few years, along with what the Air Force did about it, if anything.
The pretext for Kaiser’s firing was a report that he’d behaved improperly as a crewmember during his return from Afghanistan. That report turned out to be inaccurate. The tipster who rendered that report was the officer who stood in for Kaiser while he was away, and who stood to gain a permanent command role if Kaiser got relieved (which is precisely what happened). That stand-in was also a known protégé of Rhatigan’s boss, providing an additional political incentive for Rhatigan to act as he did. Investigations into Kaiser failed to substantiate a shred of misconduct, and he was never counseled or reprimanded. Despite this, he was relegated to an inconsequential desk job for months while he and his family awaited an unfavorable performance report and a quasi-punitive reassignment. His career was destroyed, and Kaiser has since filed for retirement.
Rhatigan fired a total of five squadron leaders during his two-year wing command tour, including Kaiser’s replacement and an operations officer preemptively sacked before he even had a shot at command. In no case was a rationale beyond “loss of confidence” supplied, leaving the rumor mill to churn plausible stories about disconnects between the wing’s technically respected squadron commanders and the efficiency-minded Rhatigan, who came to his position with virtually zero tactical airlift experience and didn’t believe in some of the mission’s training requirements.
Several of the impacted officers filed a service-level IG complaint alleging abuse of power. This group included Kaiser, who withdrew a Congressional complaint based on personal assurances from Gen. Welsh that he would get a fair IG process, and Lt. Col. Jim Burgess, a widely respected operator and leader who’d had his reputation publicly maligned by Rhatigan both before and after his sacking. After seven months of waiting, during which the complainants were assured that their cases were being investigated, the IG informed them that it had found insufficient cause to investigate. It’s an absurd outcome that took unacceptably long to culminate, leaving those involved no opportunity for meaningful redress. Rhatigan retired on May 31st, decorated with the Legion of Merit.
The case study briefly recounted here is an egregious example of organizational politics that should be taught at service schools to illustrate the dangers of unaccountable leadership. Click here for the original story and analysis.
Nothing ever emerged in the Perry debacle to demonstrate he’d been anything other than an excellent commander of the unit for which he’d been hand-picked. What did emerge was a pattern of favoritism by Liddick, who commandeered some of Perry’s key subordinates for her own staff and “took sides” with others when they chafed against his leadership style.
None of Perry’s multiple attempts for redress got anywhere, despite constant reassurances that senior officials were listening to his pleas. He was reassigned, removed from the Senior Developmental Education list, blackballed from promotion, reprimanded, and given an unfavorable performance assessment – all for daring to exercise the exact brand of creative, people-focused leadership for which he’d been hired, but which cut against Liddick’s autocratic management style. Liddick retired in the middle of the scandal she created, her decisions having sown division that continues within the Lackland NCO community to the present day. She was decorated with the Legion of Merit. The original case study of the Perry sacking can be found here. The role of self-absorbed leadership in the creation and sustainment of the Lackland crisis is an unsettling but important subject.
Col. Mark Camerer, Liddick’s boss at the time, refused to step in and police her conduct. He closed ranks and stood behind her decisions, opening an Unfavorable Information File on Perry and ordering him on a short-notice assignment despite a desperately ill family member. Camerer did this despite having evidence Liddick had pre-determined to fire Perry and abused the CDI process to cover herself – a clear abuse of authority for which she should have been disciplined. The Perry saga unfolded against the backdrop of a notably caustic work environment at Lackland, a product of Liddick’s policies, within which training instructors grew risk-averse and intellectually pliant to the point of paranoia, fearing that even the smallest of errors would be career-ending and reputation tarnishing. Notwithstanding so many problems blossoming on his watch, Camerer was promoted to Brigadier General and reassigned to a staff billet in Europe.
Some believe Weinstein – and the zero-defect, harshly exacting, autocratic leadership approach he exemplifies – contributed to the toxic climate that led to systemic cheating and other issues, an assertion not without merit given that he’s held four different general officer positions in the community since 2008, as conditions have worsened.
Officers unfortunate enough to find themselves in the missile community in recent years have taken to regarding themselves not as proud servants of national defense, but as “sinners in the hands of an angry God.” If indeed Weinstein played a role in creating the culture this connotes, his use of command authority to tie off accountability just below his own level would make sense, and would be particularly craven. Clearly seeing him as a part of the solution, senior officials forwarded Weinstein’s nomination for a third star and a senior nuclear post on the Air Staff.
First, the evidence substantiating Post’s conduct in the IG investigation was available to Gen. Welsh all along, having been furnished to the Chief of Staff by none other than Post himself right after it happened. Yet Welsh waited nearly three months for the official report to be published before taking any action. During this time, the political process theoretically warped by Post continued to unfold, casting doubt on the fidelity of Congress’ understanding of the A-10 debate.
Second, Post’s career has not been derailed. In fact, he’s reportedly been selected for a role as a senior deputy to the Air Staff’s Director of Operations, where he will wield much more direct influence over A-10 deliberations than in his former role. (Curiously, his official bio still lists him as Vice Commander of Air Combat Command).
By not punishing Post until compelled and elevating him higher in the organization, the service risks sending the message that it didn’t truly disapprove of his conduct.
The lone white knight galloping to Post’s defense wasretired Gen. Roger Brady, who recklessly proposed that airmen talking to Congress were insubordinate. While Brady’s words earned him quick repudiation, we shouldn’t be surprised he’d resist accountability for senior officer missteps. After all, Brady’s tenure in the driver’s seat of Air Force personnel policy saw the fielding of the worst utility uniform in service history, the myopic trading of 30,000+ manpower positions for F-22 money that never materialized, the loss of support staffs from Air Force squadrons, and the establishment of an unsustainable personnel tempo for airmen and families. Brady was held accountable for none of this, and went on to a fourth star despite being officially admonished for failing to conduct the service’s assignment process within established budget authority.
Note the pattern. In the current Air Force system, someone at the level of squadron command or below who steps out of line is dealt with swiftly and severely, assumed to be both culpable and ill intentioned. By contrast, a colonel or general who creates systemic or climatic pathologies is given a weighty presumption of honorability and handled with kid gloves.
This is exactly the reverse of what should be happening. Expectations should be higher the further up the chain of command someone ascends. That this concept has been systemically reversed indicates the Air Force has lost its way on accountability.
Congress should take note, as should the Secretary of Defense. Consistent excellence cannot be expected from an organization with this problem, and the internal decay masked by stonewalling and opacity could prevent recognition of more serious maladies until far past the point where national defense is compromised.
This inventory represents a few years of unaccountable leadership, and it’s the tip of a dysfunctional iceberg. A few years more is not something the service can or should countenance.
The Air Force’s culture is clearly brewing toxicity. Gen. Welsh could get every other policy solution right and still fail if those he charges to carry out policy are too self-concerned or narrow to lead morally and ethically, with fairness never in doubt and the rank and file sufficiently inspired to carry out the mission.
Without a course correction, the Air Force risks a repeat of the catastrophic moral meltdown that occurred after Vietnam, with teamwork torn asunder and everyone placing self-interest before service. Given these stakes, it’s time for the service to reform in this most critical area. That reform should start at the top, with Welsh acknowledging there is a problem.
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