The Bureaucracy Paradox

The Chinagraph Pencil Management Organisation: a cautionary tale

“Well Sir, today’s training serial was very pleasing in most respects but I’m afraid there was one critical shortcoming that makes the overall assessment Below Standard”

“Sorry Staff, what? But we aced it! Everything you threw at us we dealt with and well inside the Fleet standard times for all evolutions.”

“Ah, yes Sir but I took the opportunity during a lull in the action to check on your Chinagraph Pencil Management Organisation and it seems to be non-existent; so, it’s a BS I’m afraid.”

“Our chinagraph what?”

“Yes Sir, the CPMO is a new requirement that is set out in a draft RNTM[1]”

“A draft RNTM? ie, one that has not been issued yet?”

“Yes, it’s in draft but we’ve had it agreed by our higher-ups that it’s already a mandatory requirement.”

“Aside from the problem of not being clairvoyant, what do we need a ‘CPMO’ for anyway – each Incident Board Operator[2] is responsible for having the necessary equipment for their role?”

“Ah, that’s where the problem is. How do you assure that each IBO has the right equipment or, if the IBO is a casualty in the incident, how would you ensure that the Incident Board could be correctly marked up? If you can’t do that you won’t be able to exercise effective Command and Control over the emergency and that could lead to losing control of the incident potentially meaning multiple loss of life and mission failure. It doesn’t bear thinking about Sir, but it’s a credible risk and the CPMO is just basic risk management really.

That’s why you’ll need to have a CPMO up and running in time for tomorrow morning’s serial or it’ll be another fail I’m afraid, and we’ll have to declare you unsafe to be at sea. It doesn’t take much; just a CPMO Log with the correctly formatted paper sheets where everybody can sign for their chinagraph pencils and annotate the location for stowage of spares. This is the responsibility of a CPMO Manager, assisted by a Deputy CPMO Manager; and both of these should be nominated in a Commanding Officer’s Temporary Memorandum to be stored in the first section of the CPMO Log. Oh, and a training plan to ensure that everybody is au fait with the procedure managed by the CPMO Training Officer. Obviously, you will need to check the Log monthly and the Warrant Officer should check it weekly.

Have a nice evening Sir.”

The vignette above is simultaneously fictitious and yet entirely familiar, in its essence if not the specifics, to generations of Naval Officers that have led their departments and ships through operational training and other assurance activities. I use it to illustrate the point I intend to make in this blog article but I should stress that I am talking about bureaucracies in general, not specifically those of the Navy or Defence.

This is how bureaucracy grows; it is fractal[3]. That is to say, self-similar at differing scales. As you “zoom in” on a process you will find, in increasing resolution, layers of process and risk that need to be managed, quantified and assured. By doing this you get an increasing “quality” of process where more variables are found to be controlled and increased layers of assurance and governance are required. And so the bureaucracy grows. This is not an irrational proposition, especially for the functional process owners whose responsibility to the organisation is not for its outputs but for having the highest quality functional processes possible. This is what the system demands of them and, as professionals, what they take pride in delivering. Once you have improved your process, by reviewing it and addressing any identified shortcomings, you will have a higher quality process. Owing to the fractal nature of bureaucracy, this leads to a geometric increase in process and management overhead in an organisation over time and iterations of change. And it is a one-way valve; a diode. It goes against the grain to say to someone “reduce the quality of your process by zooming out and dealing only with those issues which are visible at a macro level.”

Especially in hazardous industries, like Defence, who spend a great deal of their time preparing for and managing very low probability but high impact events (so called “tail risks[4]”) there is (and must be) an obsession with ensuring that details are attended to, and excellence is a habit in all that you do. Only by taking such an approach can you maximise your readiness for extreme events and minimise the number of ways your response to extreme events could be flawed. Systemic risk does not scale linearly and, again, is fractal in nature (the bureaucracy, remember, is an organisational response to the identification of risk at different scales). This means that to minimise the probability of adverse outcomes from extreme events from happening one must take action that is disproportionate to the individual, local risk.

Taleb[5] explains this in the context of measures necessary to control pandemic spread:

So, the system incentivises the bureaucrat, for all of the right reasons, to ensure that the processes that they are responsible for are not the cause of systemic failure, even in extreme events. It is therefore rational for them to ensure that the functional processes for which they are responsible are watertight. Ally to this the human inclination of maximising one’s own professional jurisdiction for reasons of job security and prestige in the organisation and you have a dynamic that moves in one direction. To explain how this manifests, I humbly posit the eponymous “Prest’s Law of Bureaucratic Reform”:

Whenever an administrative process is reformed by the process owner, usually with the intent of making it less onerous, the revised process invariably ends up being more onerous for the user than the previous one.

When we zoom-out to the organisational level though, this makes no sense. What I have described is the risk-averse drift toward bureaucratic paralysis. The aggregation of individually rational actions leads to, overall, a sub-optimal outcome. Thus, strategic leaders (and process users) will rail against the macro effects of the bureaucracy inherent in the system which stifles the pace of progress and erodes efficiency. In other words, they can see the macro cost to the organisation of bureaucratic inertia; costs which are hidden from the process owners at the local level whose primary focus, quite naturally, is the goodness of their process, not the pace and efficiency of output delivery.

The response of leaders is often to exhort their organisations to “take risk” against process. But it is not normally clear who is empowered to judge the risk appetite. Is it the process owner who is, in effect, being invited to short-cut their carefully crafted functional mechanism – why would they do this? Or is it the process user? If a user is not required to conform to a policy or process, how does the organisation assure itself that the unacceptable risk is not being taken, that its resources are being used wisely and its reputation is being protected?

To unlock this paradox, the organisation must link the cost of process to the design of it. I would propose that a mechanism must be found of quantifying the total cost of a process, at the local level, and that this must be objectively (or at least independently) assessed so as to avoid cognitive (optimism) bias by the process owner. How much does it cost for a process to be satisfied to deliver an output? The manager, sufficiently senior to be accountable for both the output and the process, must then set the maximum value of the process that they are prepared to tolerate informed by their risk appetite. The process owner, in consultation with the user, can then be responsible for producing the best possible process for the cost that the manager is prepared to pay for the benefits that process gives (which may include risk avoidance or mitigation). The rational problem for the process owner is not, then, to create the best possible process but, rather, the best possible process to meet the process’s purpose that conforms to the “budget” set by the manager. The risk appetite is thus owned by neither the process owner, nor the user, but by the manager whom is served by both.

If the Directing Staff in our opening vignette was set the task of creating a CPMO that takes no more than 1 person-hour per year per ship, they may conclude that it’s not worth the effort and that, after all, just ensuring that everyone has access to a spare set of chinagraph pencils might be the organisation’s preferred answer after all!

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[1] Royal Navy Temporary Memorandum: official notices that detail administrative arrangements and policies that are either time limited or have yet to be incorporated into Books of Reference (BRs).

[2] Incident Board Operators (IBOs) use chinagraph pencils, or their more modern equivalent –Overhead Projector pens (ask you parents kinds) to mark up Damage Control Incident Boards around the ship in the event of emergency so that the Command and Control of Firefighting and Damage Control can be exercised using a common understanding of the situation and events.

[3] Gluck J, Chaos, Random House (London: 1997), p103

[4] See the writings of Nassim Nicholas Taleb

[5] https://twitter.com/nntaleb/status/1239243622916259841?s=20 (posted 15 Mar 2020, accessed 21 Oct 2020)

The Case for Inclusive Leadership. Or, to give it its proper title: Leadership

Last week the Service Chiefs in the UK wrote an open letter setting out their collective commitment to improve diversity and inclusion in the Armed Forces and Defence more widely. Also last week, the Deputy Commander of the Royal Canadian Navy sent out a stern message to those criticising the moves to gender-neutral terminology for ranks and rates in the RCN. This feels like an issue whose time has come.

I have long been committed to a leadership philosophy that is inclusive and have articulated my leadership approach before. I do not consider this to be about “political correctness” for its own sake nor to simply avoid causing offence. There are lots of valid reasons where one can act properly and cause offence; the mere avoidance of offending people is not what this is about. Leadership is about bringing out the best in those around you to achieve a common purpose. This, as well as a basic commitment to fairness, is why I am a Naval Servicewomen’s Network ally and am also proud to champion the case of other minority groups in the Service.

The quote is attributed to Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery.

The Royal Navy, like many of our institutions is predominately composed of white heterosexual men. I am not arguing here as to whether the diversity of composition is, in and of itself, important in its own right; although Ministry of Defence and Royal Navy policies make it plain that, as far as they are concerned, it is. For what it’s worth, and for the record, that accords with my own opinion but that really is an aside for my argument. The fact is that we have workforce composed of different genders, sexualities, religions, races, etc; and everyone deserves to be led equitably.

What is clear is that to achieve our purpose; being a Global Navy for a Global Britain: modern, lethal (to our enemies) and relevant; we need to recruit, develop and retain the very best talent that is available to us. That talent must be forged into high performing teams by leaders at all levels that can get the very best out of all of their people, working in concert, to ensure that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Furthermore, it is foolish to consider that such talent, those reserves of potential, reside uniquely or even predominantly in white, heterosexual men. In a competitive market for skills we simply cannot afford to waste any opportunity to recruit, retain and maximise the talent in our Service. It is also morally (not to say legally) right to give everybody equality of opportunity to thrive and maximise their potential.

In an Armed Service which relies on volunteers to join and stay within the organisation to progress into leadership positions of their own, it is axiomatic that we have a duty to create an environment where everybody feels that they belong. Everybody must feel included; they must feel that it is their Royal Navy as much as everyone else’s. This is where seemingly small things matter. Language matters; behaviour matters; inclusion matters. Humans are social creatures and we have evolved to be acutely tuned to pick up on nuanced social signals. Not sure what I mean? Go into certain pubs and even looking at someone the “wrong way” can lead to violence. We work in the psychology of the ‘in group’ and the ‘out group’. You’re either part of the tribe or not.

For the team to perform at its very best, we need everyone to be considered and, most importantly, to consider themselves as part of the ‘in group’. If, like me, you’re an able-bodied, white, heterosexual man then there’s a good chance that you’ve never (or rarely) felt in the ‘out group’ at work. Perhaps you have been bullied or excluded for your accent, the colour of your hair, the fact that you wear glasses or whatever. If you were, you’ll know it is a deeply unpleasant experience that sapped your self-esteem and confidence and made you feel like an outsider in the group. But the chances are that it was short-lived, the circumstances of a particularly toxic localised culture or individuals. It was probably not systemic; not inherent to the system itself. But talking to your colleagues from minority groups in your organisation: women, those from ethnic minorities, people with disabilities, the neurodiverse, LGBTQ+ colleagues and so on will reveal a different story. And by ‘talking to’ I really mean listening to. Properly.

For me, the salutary lesson came one day in HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH. I was in a small meeting which included two women who worked in my Department. We briefly touched on the subject of Gender pay equality (something that was in the news that day). “We’ve got this gender equality thing cracked” I said gleefully, “the Armed Forces pay equally for the same rank or rate and seniority irrespective of gender. We should be really proud that we’re a gender-blind meritocracy!” Cue a slightly awkward silence. “What?” I enquired, “tell me.”

The two women glanced at each other with a look that very clearly said “are you going to tell him, or am I?”

Whilst not specifically about the pay issue, there followed an object lesson for me in male privilege. Now, this is an inflammatory term. Those being “accused” of having privilege frequently rail against the fact on the basis that it somehow impugns their effort, hard work and achievements or perhaps, even, belittles their own struggles against adversity. I understand this as I too have the same instinctual reaction to the term but what it really means is relative advantage. And there’s no doubt that, listening to my female colleagues, I have had a relative advantage over them in my career simply by being a man. This takes many forms and most are small things, virtually imperceptible, but they add up. Language is one of those things; not being invited to the pub when everyone else is going because “it’s probably not the sort of thing you’d enjoy” is another; people placing their hands on your hips as they move past you in the mess; and so on. A more modern example is perhaps not being added to the team WhatsApp group – or being added but finding that there is a shadow one with everyone but you where all the “banter” happens. All of these “micro aggressions” have an additive effect on people’s sense of belonging and confidence. And this is aside from the out and out bullying, sexual harassment, sexual assault, homophobia, transphobia and racism faced by members of our society. I would stress at this point that I do not believe that the prevalence of these things is greater in the Navy than it is in wider society and, in many respects, I think much less. Nonetheless we could, should and must be better. Often such things are unthinking and the individuals involved would be mortified if they believed that they were doing any such thing. An anecdotal example:

A very senior officer (VSO) was asked to attend a dinner at short (a few hours’) notice with a visiting Head of Navy from an important allied nation. The VSO needed a ‘plus one’ for the dinner and his wife lives in another part of the country. So he strode into the open plan office and asked a female officer (a senior officer with substantial frontline Command experience in her own right) whether she would like to accompany him to the dinner.

“I don’t know if you’re asking me on a date, Sir, or whether you’re suggesting that I should be the ‘duty skirt’; but either way Sir you can f*ck right off!” The VSO (rightly) apologised profusely and scuttled back to his office.

Now, less confident women might have just played along but nonetheless resented the fact that they were being used in a gender-specific way not expected of their male counter-parts. Others may have decided to make the most of the opportunity to build their professional relationship with their VSO outside of the office environment. But the point really is that there was an unthinking inherent sexism in the actions of the VSO, especially to have the conversation in public placing the female officer in an invidious position. And lest anyone think that I am taking the moral high ground here, I know that I have done similar and worse. Never meaning any harm but nonetheless I should have known better and I am determined to be better. People make mistakes, everyone accepts that, and when you do a genuine apology goes a long way.

And all of this matters because, aside from its inherent unfairness, it changes people’s views as to how they see the Service and how they progress within it. There is some objective evidence to suggest that women have to be brighter and more capable, on average, than their male counterparts to reach equivalent senior rank. Therefore, it is no surprise, wider cultural issues aside, that frustrated by a lack of career progression some women choose to leave earlier than their male counterparts. This, in part, at least helps to explain why nearly 3 decades after women first went to sea and were fully integrated into the Royal Navy, we have yet to have a woman promoted to Flag Rank. And it’s not that there hasn’t been time; some of our current Flag Officers joined up with women and the Army and RAF both have women at equivalent ranks.

In the face of such evidence, it is unconscionable not to try and level the playing field. No woman I have ever spoken to in the Royal Navy want special treatment or an unfair advantage based on their gender. Quite right. But where the playing field is demonstrably skewed against them, working to address the systemic issues that hamper them isn’t preferential treatment, it’s just fairness. If you were to play table football in a pub and one goal was a few centimetres lower than the other, you might consider placing a few beer mats under the lower legs to level up the playing field. Would you really consider this to be an unfair advantage or special treatment for the player who would otherwise be asked to shoot uphill?

Now, you may think that as a man I have no place making these arguments and that the women (or other minority groups) should speak up for themselves. You would be wrong. There is clear evidence that advocacy for minority groups by allies from the majority group is much more productive in driving change. Of course, not every woman sees such issues in the same way, any more than all men have a common view on anything, but there are clear themes in the lived experience of many women in our Service that we ought to address. They have invited me to be their ally in driving this change and I am proud to be so.

One typical reaction of some people (mostly men) when such issues are raised, however, is one of denial, ie “this is a non-issue, why are you bothering about it”. Of course, what they really mean is that it’s not an issue for them… that doesn’t mean that it isn’t an issue for others as we have discussed above. And given that they are asserting that it is a “non-issue” they do seem to get very irate about something they profess no one should care about it. The fact they are angered by something that they deem a “non-issue” suggests that, moreover, far from being ambivalent they are actually supportive of retaining the status quo – the unmerited dominance of people they consider to be like them. And don’t tell me it’s about “tradition”. Just because it’s been happening for a long time doesn’t make it desirable to continue. For hundreds of years’ sailors suffered from scurvy, something detrimental to our fighting effectiveness and the well-being of our people. We eradicated it for exactly these reasons once we realised what was going on and what could be done about it.

The other mistake people make is thinking that this is about simply avoiding offence or that humour no longer has any place; that no one is allowed to make a joke any more. I’ll come to that latter point in a moment but on the subject of avoiding offence: none of this is because I think people should intrinsically be protected simply from being offended. There are times when, frankly, we all need to be offended; most likely because we need to be told things about ourselves or what we choose believe that we don’t want to hear. I cannot control what offends you, but I can ensure that I treat you with respect and, if you’re in my gang, that a relationship of mutual trust exists between us; I can ensure that you know that you’re a valued and valuable member of my team. Once that’s in place, difficult conversations about issues that may cause offence are much easier to handle. This is good leadership, not simply political correctness.

On the subject of jokes. As well as being entertaining, humour and ‘banter’ can have a powerful cohesive effect if grounded in trust and mutual respect, but it must be inclusive. If there is any sense that an individual is being picked on, excluded, victimised, bullied or discriminated against it is corrosive and harmful to the team and the individual. There is a difference and, like conversations about matters likely to cause offence, it is about context. The trick is to treat others as you would wish to be treated and, if you think you may have got it wrong, check-in with that person as to whether you may have pushed it too far with them and apologise. Almost certainly, you will gain more respect and more grace by demonstrating that you are mindful and respectful of the other person’s feelings. You will also have learned to be a better leader.

At this point, someone will normally pipe up and assert that we are a fighting force and that we don’t have time to worry about how people feel. This is 100% nonsense. Leadership is all about how you make people feel. Do you inspire them to greater things than even they thought they were capable of, individually and collectively? Do you give them confidence in you, the team and themselves? Are they inspired and uplifted? Do they want to give of their best? If not, you have no business leading anybody. The great military leaders understood this and were masters of it: Nelson, Slim, Montgomery, etc:

“The first duty of a leader is optimism. How does your subordinate feel after meeting with you? Does he [or she] feel uplifted? If not, you are not a leader.”

Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery

We should leave the business of disheartening and alienating our own people to the enemy. We should, under no circumstances, do their job for them! And this must apply equally to everyone in our organisation. Equality, by the way, does not mean similarity. What might work for me may not work for you. There is nothing so unequal as the equal treatment of unequals. This is nothing more or less than knowing your people and treating them appropriately – hardly a new idea in military leadership! The small things matter and, usually, cost nothing (or almost nothing) to fix but people notice if you don’t do these things when you could, especially if they have asked you to. They also notice if you do, and that small investment in making life better for the people in your team will be repaid many times over. So the real question is: if you can make a positive change for the people in minority groups in your organisation, why wouldn’t you? It really is just good leadership.

Photographs: Crown Copyright

Welcome to the Fleet

Last week I was privileged to have been invited by Captain Rich Harris Royal Navy, Commanding Officer of HMS Raleigh, to take the salute at the Passing Out Parade for a class of recruits, Hanson 19/04, who had completed the Royal Navy’s 10 week Initial Naval Training course. This “Phase 1” training is undertaken by all non-commissioned entrants to the Royal Navy before moving on to their “Phase 2” professional training. Touring the establishment prior to the parade I was stuck by the dedication and commitment of the HMS Raleigh staff to delivering the very best outcomes for the Recruits and the Naval Service. All of the Training Staff that I spoke with talked passionately of developing the Recruits through coaching and mentoring to bring out the very best in them. I also met some of the volunteer Veterans who work with the Recruits. This is a wonderful initiative (of which I had previously no knowledge) where some local retired “old and bold” sailors dedicate their time to supporting the classes throughout their training. They love it and both the Recruits and Instructors hugely value their practical and pastoral contribution. Speaking to the Veterans, they had great admiration for the Recruits and were unequivocal that the training was “tougher than in their day”. Yes training is demanding, it needs to be, but it is also focused on providing every individual the opportunity to maximise their potential. This means that very few Recruits are filtered out because they simply can’t make the grade – testament to the dedication of the Staff, since no one passes out if they don’t reach the required standard. It was a wonderful experience and I came away inspired and energised to return to my role in the Navy’s Headquarters, Programme Director of the Type 31e frigate programme, determined to deliver ships for the future that these men and women will serve in.

As part of the parade I was invited to say a few words to the passing out class and their assembled friends and families. Here’s what I said to them:

“Good afternoon everyone. Hanson 19/04 – you could not have picked a better day with better weather for your passing out parade and I am proud of each and everyone of you for being here today having completed Phase 1 training as sailors of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy.  And I know that your family and friends too, those that can be here today and those who couldn’t, are also bursting with pride for what you have achieved so far. Thank you for inviting me to be part of it and thank you to all of you, friends and family, who have joined us today and whose support in the coming months and years will continue to be vital to your sailors, just as it is to all of us who serve.

I am a social media junkie. I love a meme. And one of my favourites is a picture of the sea with the question superimposed: “what does it take for the average person to become a Royal Navy sailor?” to which of course the answer is: “the average person will never become a Royal Navy sailor!”By the very fact that you are here today, having had the courage to volunteer to join the Royal Navy, to have gotten on the train or aeroplane to come here 10 weeks ago and have subjected yourself to the initial training regime in the most successful fighting force the world has ever known, undefeated in over 400 years, sets you apart from your peers and from the rest of society. But with that accolade comes quite a responsibility. You now, as all of us in the Naval Service do, carry the responsibility to continue that tradition; that sense of duty and service. I will offer a few words of advice about how to succeed in that endeavour. These will not be a surprise since they are the very things that the training staff, have been instilling in you over the last 10 weeks.

The first thing is that we are members of a Service whose purpose is not only to shape world events on behalf of HM Government, but also to respond in times of crisis.  Even locally, the unexpected can happen at any time and without warning.  These moments can be defining for the individuals, ships and even countries involved.  When the moment arrives (and it will) you must be ready.  You can achieve this only if you make excellence your habit in all that you do: drill, personal admin, engineering standards, maintenance, administration, training, military bearing and your overall conduct.  By being as ready as we can possibly be, we can be confident to tackle whatever the world will throw at us.  We can thus meet events on the front foot with the flexibility to seize and retain the initiative, not worrying about playing catch-up on things that we ought to have done.

Second, teamwork: in the Navy we succeed together or not at all.  This is a team sport.  Effective teamwork relies on clear, honest and timely communication in all directions. Work hard to achieve this.  It also means that we don’t pass on problems; we must each take responsibility, trusting that the team will support us.  We look out for each other, and when our support is needed we must offer it willingly.  We must add value wherever we are able across our Departments, Ships and the Service as a whole – in short, get stuck in!  This doesn’t mean that we should do others’ jobs for them, it means creating a culture that allows the whole to be greater than the sum of its parts.  Everyone must feel part of this team.  If there is any sense that an individual is being picked on, bullied or discriminated against it is corrosive and harmful to the team and the individual. Look out for each other and don’t allow anyone to damage our team in this way. You need everyone to bring the best version of themselves to the fight – work hard to encourage each other to do this.

Finally; our business: seafaring, aviation and fighting are hazardous activities. We must be assiduous therefore about our safety.  Our enemies will try to do us harm, we must not do their job for them. Do not take unnecessary risks with your own, or others’ safety, and look after each other.

That’s it.

You are at the beginning of an exciting career in a Royal Navy that is growing, that is reaching out into the world in ways that it has not done for decades, that is regenerating true aircraft carrier capability and sustaining our nuclear deterrent for the next 50 years as it has for the last half a century. This is no average career and you are no average people. Rise to the challenge, seize every opportunity, maintain excellence as your habit, work as a team and look after each other.

I wish you every success in your Phase 2 training and in your careers. There is much hard work to come and many adventures to be had.

You are sailors in the Royal Navy and you, and everyone who knows you, should be bloody proud of that. Congratulations and welcome to the Fleet!”

How Spears Work….. why the Royal Navy’s Engineers are at the heart of delivering the UK’s global maritime influence

 

Dear fellow Royal Navy Engineers,

There is an internet meme advertising Captain Morgan’s rum. It reads like this:

“A sailor needs a calm mind, a keen eye, a strong stomach, an iron will and a ship. The ship part is really important.”

And they’re right. You can have all the doctrine and concepts, tactical genius and inspired leadership you like – without ships (and submarines) you’re not doing much to deliver global maritime influence. Now, of course there are exceptions: you can sustain coastal missile batteries and radar networks to defend your coastline and you can operate maritime aircraft, fixed wing or helicopters, from bases ashore to deliver effect over the sea. But these deliver localised effect. They are not global. As a maritime force, to deliver global influence you need ships and submarines that go to sea and stay there. And, if this is your strategy, then you need to be able to do it in perpetuity. 

There was, and perhaps still is, a school of thought that the Royal Navy is all about having ships at sea. I think, rather, that the Royal Navy is about delivering global influence in and from the maritime environment. As I’ve described above, ships and submarines are necessary to deliver this, but in and of themselves they are not sufficient. There is simply far more to it than that. Why does this matter? Because as Royal Navy Engineers we’re involved in far, far more than Operating, Maintaining Diagnosing and Repairing our ships, submarine and aircraft at sea. Of course, this is important and, in the first order, keeping the tip of the spear sharp and pointy is our day job. And we do it well. In the most arduous of circumstances we, as a Branch, deliver and sustain our nation’s maritime fighting power with aplomb. We should be confident about saying so and confident to back our judgements in giving policy aware advice to the Command (which isn’t the same thing as sticking rigidly to the rules by the way: https://fightingsailor.wordpress.com/2018/01/07/an-officers-guide-to-breaking-the-rules/ ).

But if you think that you can concentrate on the tip of the spear at the expense of the shaft then you don’t understand how spears work! (Stop sniggering at the back). The point (no pun intended) is that Naval Engineers spend a significant portion of their careers looking after the platforms and equipment that are not at sea, either because they are alongside for maintenance, in upkeep, still under construction or, perhaps, still on the drawing board or exist only in concept. This matters because once the operational cycle turns, the platforms and equipment emerging from maintenance or construction become the means by which our global maritime influence is delivered and sustained over repeated operational cycles and over generations of ships, submarines and aircraft. And if you think for a moment that Royal Navy Engineers and engineering aren’t at the heart of that, then, frankly, you need to learn how spears work!

Yours aye,

@fightingsailor

Top Tips for Surviving and Thriving on Advanced Command and Staff Course

It’s that time of year when the officers selected for the UK Defence Academy’s Advanced Command and Staff Course (at the Joint Services Command and Staff College) are preparing to start their course.  Here are some tried and tested top tips to help:

(Originally published on CCLKOW ProChat 27 Jun 16: Top Tips for ACSC )

Like all advice, this should be taken with caution and other views sought to get a cross-fix. Please feel free to make whatever use of it you wish, I wouldn’t be offended if you ignored it completely. Also, as I did the course a few years ago some of the specifics may be out of date but the principles are sound. I have included some top tips suggested by trusted course mates, but any errors or omissions are mine alone.

1. Understand in advance what you want from the course and prioritise accordingly. For example: if you want to be in the Top 10 you will need to work very hard; if you want an MA then ensure you do the extra module which may (will) distract from core ACSC work and/or family time; if you want to maximise your time with the family, social opportunities or hobbies then accept that you’re not likely to do as well on the psc(j) elements as those who are busting for the highest grades. I prioritised psc(j) and family time and thus didn’t do the MA. In sum, you can’t do everything and those that tried to got pretty disheartened. Make your choices deliberately and accept the consequences — it’s a great analogy for the rest of your career!

2. There isn’t time to do and read everything so prioritise hard. I had a system of A, B and C category priorities:

A — Anything that carried a specific mark that contributed to the final assessment i.e essays, Defence Research Paper (DRP), Ex Swift Response, etc, etc

B — Anything that I was front and centre for: Syndicate Room Discussions (SRDs) that I was leading, debates or presentations that I was giving, etc, etc

C — Everything else.

3. It’s hard to catch up once you’ve missed something, so keep a steady work ethic throughout.

4. Reading — For Cat B SRDs (see above), read the essential reading and a handful of the other stuff; for Cat C SRDs, scan read the SRD essential reading and then pick one or 2 of the more obscure articles. For both types read something from The Economist (see below) or elsewhere on the subject, or a real world example of the academic point. Casually drop in that you think that it offers an interesting perspective and your DS/DSD will think that you’re magnificently well read! (see para 9). The very first SRDs are hugely important and to arrive without having read the pre-reading is just stupid.

5. Read The Economist for a few months before you pitch-up at the course: http://www.economist.com/ — good analysis and a real cross-section of global events. Trot out the opinions from the editorials in SRDs and you’ll seem really clever. The online version will let you read one article a week for free but the subscription is not that expensive.

6. Essay writing. There is a magic spell for writing a good essay and it’s in this book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Good-Essay-Writing-Study-Skills/dp/0857023713 Follow the formula and you’ll pretty much get a Merit. Add a bit of original thought and you’ll start hitting Distinction territory. Seriously, I started out (quote from my DS) “vomiting a stream of consciousness onto a page”, which apparently isn’t the same thing as writing a good essay. Use the magic formula. There are several copies of the book in the College library.

7. Getting on with your academic is critical. You need to learn to listen to them, particularly during the essay feedback. A cautionary tale from a friend that I did the course with:

“I had a particular academic at one stage and the mark he gave me was a merit. That is the only time in the last twenty years I have received anything other than an A grade (distinction, whatever you want to call it) for essay style output. It was also my only mark on that course that was not a distinction. I pushed back a little on the mark, and it came to light that he didn’t like the way I compared the examples in my essay. It was a really obscure academic perspective on things. He had, in fact, mentioned to me that I might want to consider comparing in such and such a way during one of our interviews, but then had never mentioned it again. What he meant, of course, was this is how you should write this essay or I’ll mark you down. He was dick, but I didn’t listen properly.”

8. Don’t be a dick. You’ll be amazed how many people turn up being very self-important. You’ll be treated like a school child, just deal with it and have a bit of humility. In a sense, the hassle of the course and the embuggerances are part of the test — remain cheerful and, if you have to be bus monitor or whatever, then just get on with it. Everyone gets a go at the menial jobs, even the folks that have just come from commanding Special Forces Squadrons or warships, are Consultant Surgeons or whatever. Suck it up and don’t be a primadonna.

9. Understand the marking scheme and play the game. 30% of the total course marks are given by your Divisional Director for your ‘overall performance’ throughout the course. To a certain extent this is the (gender neutral) “good bloke score” and confirmation bias kicks-in early here so make a strong start and then throttle back on the extracurricular as the workload increases. See the points above about contribution to SRDs, etc and not being a dick — it is all noted! In terms of allocation of effort this is, in effect, a Cat A priority. The DD can give you an extra one or 2 percent of the overall mark at the stroke of his/her pen; to get the same (2%) from your DRP (which is 20% (or whatever) of the academic score, which itself is only of 70% of your psc(j) overall grade) you would need to get a mark that’s 14% higher. I’m pretty sure I know which is easier to achieve! Some careful thought about how to make the right impression for minimal effort is worthwhile but, of course, never look like you’re trying to play the game!!! Top-tip: volunteer early for the Trafalgar Night Dinner committee; it’s early on in the year, not too arduous and gives them something to write in your Term 1 report.

10. Asking short, sensible questions of speakers is a good thing and is a valuable input in the course, despite the grief you’ll get.

11. Do a sport, for your own sanity if nothing else. Specifically, do the cycle ride to the battlefield tour if you can.

12. Enjoy it and make the most of every facility and event. It is a fantastic investment in you, a bit of a slog in places, but a wonderful learning and personal development opportunity — don’t waste it!

Hope this helps.

@fightingsailor

Everything always takes longer than you think. But why?

Originally published in the Naval Review, August 2017

In March 2017 Melissa Dahl penned an article for NYMag.com entitled Everything Always Takes Longer Than You Think[i].  She highlights a body of work, notably by Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, that reveals a cognitive bias known as the Planning Fallacy.  Essentially, this bias leads us to be overly optimistic about how long tasks take to achieve.  In fact, as Oliver Burkeman wrote in the Guardian in 2008[ii], this effect is present even when you are aware of the fact that the task you’re embarking on will take longer than you think and so you adjust your estimate accordingly (known as Hofstadter’s Law).  Burkeman proposes that, counter-intuitively, we should do less detailed planning (since the effort is wasted in any case) and just get on with it.  In the extreme he suggests that one should eschew planning altogether.  This is probably ok for relatively simple, or at least non-complex, tasks such as sorting our car insurance or writing a newspaper article, but really becomes inadequate when trying to manage a complex programme of work.  But, he is right insomuch as the reductionist approach to managing complexity repeatedly fails to accurately forecast completion dates. The same applies to costs by the way which, in some circumstances, can be traded against time (or quality) as captured by this nifty internet meme:

We can all think of plenty of examples: The Millennium Dome, Wembley Stadium, the London Olympics (on time and brilliant, but significantly over the original cost estimate[iii]), various large scale IT programmes, the Sydney Opera House, the Scottish Parliament and, yes, a whole bunch of high profile Defence acquisition programmes[iv], and so forth.  Now I am specifically not blaming the managers of these programmes or pointing the finger at anyone.  I am a systems thinker when it comes to the analysis of such problems and try hard to take a ‘Black Box Thinking[v]’ approach, as described by Matthew Syed in his superb book of that name[1].  Few people in any profession go to work each day to do a bad job, and most are keen to do a great job.  Where common themes emerge, such as this, one must not look at the individuals but at the inherent nature of the systems in which they operate if we want to make things better.  That is not to say that we should shy away from the brutal hard facts of failure[2]^{, [vi]} and we must look hard at what could be done better in both managing realistic expectations and optimisation of programme delivery. Satisfaction is to be found where the two coincide!  I shall stick to an analysis of the former. There are a number of factors at play here: firstly, managing the work is not forecasting.  Burkeman’s exhortation not to plan is at odds with the famous, and oft-quoted, wisdom from successful industrialist Sir John Harvey-Jones:

“Planning is an unnatural process; it is much more fun to do something. The nicest thing about not planning is that failure comes as a complete surprise, rather than being preceded by a period of worry and depression.[vii]”

Can we reconcile these 2 views?  We can if we realise that the reliable forecasting of a programme’s outturn is a subtly different thing to the managing of the work necessary to deliver it.  A reductionist approach is absolutely necessary to break down a large, complex task into manageable work packages and jobs that can be subcontracted out or allocated to different divisions of the workforce, down to individual workers.  These tasks need to be coordinated, resourced and the interdependencies managed.  Planning will help to achieve this but the more complex the programme, the more fragile that plan will be to contact with reality. That is not to say that the generation of the plan is a futile activity, in fact (as in war) it is wholly necessary:

But the plan cannot be an indicator of the outcome, for several reasons. Firstly, the plan will contain only what is known, and what is known about what is known.  That is to say that we might understand that a certain task needs to be performed and have a good understanding of the time and cost of that activity.  To borrow from Rumsfeldian Logic, let us call this a known-known.  A known-unknown would be something that we knew needed to be done but (perhaps because we were doing it for the first time) were unsure about the resource (time/cost/etc) necessary to achieve it[3].  Assuming that we can satisfactorily quantify this uncertainty, it can be classified as a risk and managed accordingly.  The trouble, of course, is that the interaction between risks is a matter of complexity (more of which in a moment).  What the plan completely fails to account for are the unknown-knowns and the unknown-unknowns. Unknown-knowns are those things that we don’t know need to be done, and will emerge over time, but once we know they need to be done we have a reasonable idea of how long it might take – the need to re-work some element of the programme, for instance.  Since we’ve done it before we should have a reasonable idea of how much resource (time and money) it will consume.  Finally, there are the unknown-unknowns; those things that we did not expect to have to do and have little idea about their scope. In either case, it’s not just that these things are unknown but in a complex programme they are, in fact, unknowable.  This is not, therefore, incompetence or ineptitude on the part of those running the programme but rather an epistemological limit on the certainty with which the programme can be planned. Where there is a flaw it is overconfidence in the reliability and completeness of the plan itself.

The business of the unpredictability of complex systems (including such things as complex programmes) is dealt with by the incomparable Nassim Nicholas Taleb in his various books[4].  In the prologue to Antifragile[viii], he observes that:

“Complex systems are full of interdependencies – hard to detect – and nonlinear responses…… Man-made complex systems tend to develop cascades and runaway chains of reactions that decrease, even eliminate, predictability and cause outsized events.”

He goes on, in a later chapter, to specifically apply this to the business of programme management.  Observing that there is an “obvious asymmetry” in projects, especially ones that are IT heavy, where uncertainty drives the programme in only one direction i.e. towards increased time and cost: “So, on a timeline going from left to right, errors add to the right end, not the left end of it[ix].”

Obviously, it is much easier to forecast how long something will take if you’re not doing it for the first time. You will have a much clearer understanding of the length of time it will take to build the tenth of a class of ships, for example, as opposed to the first which is in essence a prototype, simply because there is a great deal less uncertainty.

There is also the challenge of resolution.  As an analogy, if we measure the coastline of an island using a relatively small scale map we are likely to underestimate the actual distance that we would need to walk to circumnavigate the coastline of that island. Why? Because when measuring on the map we will smooth out the meanderings of the costal path such that when we measure, by walking, in the actual resolution of our stride length we will discover that more steps are required than those that we estimated from the map.  The more complicated the coastline, the greater our error will be.  And so it is with trying to predict the outcome of a complex programme from the plan – it will always take more steps than you estimated to navigate the intricacies of reality that were smoothed out in the planning phase.  So, if there are immutable limits on our ability to predict, against uncertainty, from a reductionist analysis of our programme of interest, are there better methods of forecasting?

Philip Tetlock has a long career of researching the art and science of prediction and has written about it in his excellent book Superforecasting (co-authored with Dan Gardner).  His research shows that people who are good at forecasting tend to use a common set of techniques:

• Unpack the question into components.
• Distinguish as sharply as you can between the known and the unknown and leave no assumption unscrutinised.
• Adopt the outside view and put the problem into a comparative perspective that downplays its uniqueness and treats it as a special case of wider class of phenomena.
• Then adopt the inside view that plays up the uniqueness of the problem.
• Also, explore the similarities and differences between your views and those of others – and pay special attention to prediction markets and other methods of extracting wisdom from crowds.
• Synthesise all these different views into a single vision.
• Finally express your judgement as precisely as you can using a finely grained scale of probability[x].

Where many programme forecasts seem to come unstuck is the inability to take the ‘outside perspective’. This means looking at other comparable programmes and seeing how similar or different your particular programme is from that.  Say you were initiating a programme to develop and manufacture a brand-new model of airliner. A good outside view would be to look at previous such programmes (across the industry) and see how far out their original estimates of time and cost were.  If they were all, say, between 50-100% underestimated at the start of the programme it would be sensible to add this margin to your own estimate from inside the programme.  The staging of Olympic Games is another intriguing example. Games overrun (in cost) with 100% consistency with a real-terms average[5] of 179%[xi].  So why don’t Olympic Games organisers simply multiply their original estimate by 1.8 times when submitting their bids?  Well the answer, surely, is that they want to win the bid! And by “they” I mean everyone involved, including those that provide the money which is, of course, predominantly the Government whose money comes from the taxpayer (who also want the bid to be won, but might not have realised that they are collectively underwriting the cost). Actually, for all public-sector programmes, and many large corporations, there is a theme here which Taleb describes as the ‘Agency Problem[xii]’.  This means that the person making the decision is not the ‘owner’ and thus isn’t actually on the hook to pay the cost of any hidden risk or expense that might become apparent at a later date.  It is much easier to write cheques that other people will have to cash.  That is not to say, of course, that winning the bid to host the Olympic Games or embarking on a major change or acquisition programme isn’t the right thing to do, but we have a choice about how optimistic or realistic we wish to be about the costs involved.  And a true forecast of costs, derived from Tetlock’s advice, might seem unaffordable.  Such unaffordability will inevitably be challenged, especially when the reductionist method can be used to gloss over the inherent uncertainty, smooth out the meandering path and ignore the derived heuristics from relevant past experience.  The programme thus gets the green light but there is an inevitable and unpleasant surprise around the corner.

Once such surprises manifest it is convenient to blame the contractors or the teams running the programme as VAdm Bob Cooling did recently in The News[xiii], Portsmouth’s local newspaper.  Admiral Cooling identified specific problems in time, cost and performance in Defence acquisition programmes[6], and noted the similarities between currently running programmes and past ones.  What the Admiral didn’t describe was that it is the failure of forecasting, as a result of the inherent and unaccounted for uncertainty in complex programmes, that is at the heart of these delays.  That they take longer or cost more than expected is largely as a result of unrealistic expectations rather than ineptitude or fecklessness on the part of those delivering the programme.

So, what is to be done? Well, assuming that you genuinely want to stop embarking on projects which are outside of your budget (be it time or cost) an incentive structure needs to be created that avoids the Agency Problem, where decision makers have genuine ‘skin in the game’ and stand to lose if the decisions they make turn out to have hidden costs that were not accounted for at the time (in the form of uncertainty or risk).  If you’re taking significant personal risk, you will allow for a greater margin of error!  The problem here is that the organisation is, effectively, contracting out the risk to the individual who would face sanctions if this were to manifest. Such a system has been put in place for financial institutions where, following the 2007/8 crisis:

“Under section 36 of the UK Financial Services (Banking Reform) Act 2013, it is a criminal offence for a senior manager in a financial institution to make a decision that causes that institution, or any other financial institution which is a member of the same group, to fail[xiv].”

This offence can be punished with up to 7 years in prison or an unlimited fine.  It would be rational for individuals charged with such responsibility to be paid to carry it, and in financial institutions they are.  For Government and other industry sectors, contracting out the risk of cost or programme overruns to individuals or companies would be significantly more expensive (at least up front) than ‘The Crown’ or Shareholders carrying the risk.  But some system could, potentially, be devised of delayed incentivisation such that those who approve a programme’s time/cost/performance parameters are held accountable for the final outturn.  For programmes that run over decades this may be completely unworkable and, in any case, I detect little appetite for this in Government Departments so we may simply have to live with the consequences.

In conclusion then, I set out to explain “why everything takes longer than you think”.  There are cognitive biases at play here, notably the Planning Fallacy, but it is the inherently uncertain nature of complex programmes that makes them so hard to predict.  And given the fact that only certain natures of information about a programme can be captured and assessed for risk, the effect as other information is revealed will (virtually) always be to increase the time required and/or cost of the programme, or to decrease the quality of the product. Methods do exist, however, that would make our predictions more accurate but the unwelcome increase in time and cost exposed by such forecasts, and the fact that they are not underpinned by ‘known’ information, means that they are largely unused in circumstances where the Agency Problem is prevalent. Changing the incentive structure so that decision makers at a programme’s initiation (and at key milestones along the way) are held tangibly accountable for the programmes outturn would improve such decision making but at an upfront cost – why would anyone rationally accept having such skin in the game for free?  It seems to me, therefore, that ‘things taking longer than you think[7]’ is just something that we will need to learn to live with – a problem to be managed, not a puzzle to be solved.  But at least you now know why.

 

@fightingsailor

 

[1] Please read it, it is genuinely brilliant.

[2] “[Failure] can be thought of as the gap between what we hoped would happen, and what actually did happen.” ^vi

[3] Actually, the difference between a known-known and a known-unknown is continuum rather than binary scale, but it works for the purposes of illustrating the point – high certainty vs low certainty.

[4] Fooled by Randomness, The Black Swan and Antifragile.

[5] London 2012 was better than average with only a 101% cost overrun in real terms!

[6] Which were saw above are tradeable against each other.

[7] Especially complex programmes.

[i] Dahl, M. (2017). Everything Always Takes Longer Than You Think. [online] Science of Us. Available at: http://nymag.com/scienceofus/2017/03/why-everything-always-takes-longer-than-you-think.html?mid=full-rss-scienceofus [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[ii] Burkeman, O. (2017). Oliver Burkeman on why everything takes longer than you think. [online] the Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2008/aug/02/healthandwellbeing.psychology [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[iii] Newstatesman.com. (2017). London Olympics exceed initial budget by £6.52bn. [online] Available at: http://www.newstatesman.com/economics-blog/2012/10/london-olympics-exceed-initial-budget-652bn [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[iv] Harding, T. (2017). Nimrod destruction cost taxpayer £3.4bn as MoD ignored ‘cost implications’, MPs say. [online] Telegraph.co.uk. Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/defence/9072073/Nimrod-destruction-cost-taxpayer-3.4bn-as-MoD-ignored-cost-implications-MPs-say.html [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[v] Syed, M. 2015. Black Box Thinking, London: John Murray (Publishers).

[vi] Ibid., p.55.

[vii] Harvey-Jones, J. (2017). Quote about planning by John Harvey-Jones on Quotations Book. [online] QuotationsBook.com. Available at: http://quotationsbook.com/quote/30479/ [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[viii] Taleb, N.N. 2013. Antifragile: Things That Gain From Disorder, London: Penguin Books. p.7

[ix] Ibid,. p.285.

[x] Tetlock, P. and Gardner, D. 2016. Superforecasting: The Art and Science of Prediction, London: Random House Books. p153.

[xi] Flyvbjerg, B. and Stewart, A. (2017). Olympic Proportions: Cost and Cost Overrun at the Olympics 1960-2012. 1st ed. [ebook] Oxford: Saïd Business School, University of Oxford, p.3. Available at: http://eureka.sbs.ox.ac.uk/4943/1/SSRN-id2382612_(2).pdf [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[xii] Ibid., Taleb. p430

[xiii] Portsmouth.co.uk. (2017). Royal Navy admiral blasts delays in delivering top military projects. [online] Available at: http://www.portsmouth.co.uk/our-region/portsmouth/royal-navy-admiral-blasts-delays-in-delivering-top-military-projects-1-7919271 [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

[xiv] http://www.hoganlovells.com. (2017). Criminal liability for bank directors? A look at the United Kingdom and South Africa. [online] Available at: https://www.hoganlovells.com/en/publications/criminal-liability-for-bank-directors-a-look-at-the-united-kingdom-and-south-africa [Accessed 24 Apr. 2017].

An Officer’s Guide to Breaking the Rules

An Officer’s Guide to Breaking the Rules

Originally published in CCLKOW ProChat on 4 Apr 2016

“I always say that it’s about breaking the rules. But the secret of breaking rules in a way that works is understanding what the rules are in the first place.”   – Rick Wakeman

As military officers we are surrounded by rules, regulations, policy, protocols, doctrine, instructions, orders (both standing and ephemeral) and, indeed, laws – all of which we are supposed to adhere to[1].  As part of a disciplined fighting Service it is incumbent upon each of us not only to know what all of these constraints on our behaviour are, but to apply them in the leadership of our teams.  They enable the complex organisations of the military to be managed (more or less) effectively.  They allow for, inter alia, the regimentation of affairs, legal compliance, fairness to our people, good order, coherence and consistency across (and between) our Armed Services, interoperability and the safe conduct of our business[2].  In short they prevent chaos. For some years now the Royal Navy has been running a recruitment campaign with the strapline “Life without Limits”.  Personally, I think this is very strange as it is difficult to think of a more regulated lifestyle than a sailor at sea, especially on operations.  And yet, as commanders and leaders we are required to deal with real situations and apply our judgement to each set of circumstances to do what is right to achieve our Commander’s intent.  In my experience, this often means that the rules need to be broken (or at least reinterpreted) in order to achieve the aim.  In such circumstances how to we as commanders decide on the best course of action?

When exhorting his officers to seize the initiative and deliver success in spite of the strictures of bureaucracy, the outgoing First Sea Lord[3] frequently used the phrase “Be bold. Take risk. Fear nothing.”  This is the Nelsonian way.  But how do we judge which rules we ought to break and when?  When should we turn a ‘Nelsonian Eye[4]’ to our orders?  When should we obey them and inform our superior commander that we are unable to comply with his or her instructions?  The answer, as alluded to by Admiral Zambellas, is to take risk.  But risk is something very specific.  It is not a cavalier gamble, that is simply negligence; rather it is a careful analysis of the likelihood and impact of an adverse situation manifesting itself.  Once these are understood, mitigations should be devised and implemented to reduce both the likelihood and the impact of an undesirable outcome.  This must then be weighed carefully against the likelihood and benefits of success.  A sensible, balanced and defensible decision can then be taken.  Where this course of action contravenes the rules you, as the decision maker, need to take responsibility and reassure your subordinates that you are doing so.

Warrant Officers and Senior Ratings[5] have (in general) spent their careers implementing the rules to manage the delivery of the functions for which they are responsible. Taking them into a situation where the hard and fast rules that they are used to working with become temporarily negotiable and ambiguous requires careful leadership and clarity of explanation.  They need to trust you, and you need to be worthy of that trust, because if it goes bad you need to have the moral courage to take responsibility. But good decisions can go bad, just as bad decisions can go well.  You need to make sure that the decision is defensible.  If it is not, then it probably isn’t the right decision in any case and you need to think again.  Asking yourself the question “how would I explain this at the Court Martial?” isn’t about covering your back, it’s about calibrating your moral compass in opaque circumstances.

When at sea as Head of the Weapon Engineering Department in one of the Royal Navy’s Anti-Submarine Warfare frigates I developed a helpful mental and linguistic model to aid me with this process.  By agreement, it also formed the basic structure of the conversations about such issues that I would have with the Commanding Officer (CO).  The CO hated being told that I couldn’t do something when he knew full well that I could but that the rules didn’t allow it.  So I agreed that we would discuss such things in the following terms: Could – Should – Would.  In the first instance I would explain what could be done, what was physically possible given the resources at our disposal, without any of the constraints of the rules.  I would then explain what should be done to be compliant with the rules, regulations, policy, etc.  Finally, we would have a conversation about what we would do, under what circumstances and when the operational imperative would justify setting aside certain rules in order to achieve the intent.  It worked.  I never told him something was impossible when it wasn’t, but we also (frequently) made defensible risk-based decisions to break the rules when the circumstances justified it. He’s a Rear Admiral now and I was promoted from that job too, so we must have been doing something right.  Maybe we were just lucky but experience suggests that taking a deliberate and structured approach to thinking about and taking risk may have helped.

@FightingSailor                                                                                March 2016

  

Recommended further reading:

 Gardner, Dan. Risk: The Science and Politics of Fear. Virgin Books (London: 2009).

Taleb, Nassim Nicholas. Fooled by Randomness: The Hidden Role of Chance in Life and in the Markets (2nd Ed). Penguin Books (London: 2007).

 

[1] I will group all of these under the term ‘rules’ for convenience in this article

[2] Or at least as safe as possible.  The enemy will try to do us harm, we really ought not to do it to ourselves.

[3] Admiral Sir George Zambellas, Head of the Royal Navy.

[4] At the battle of Copenhagen in 1801 Admiral Sir Hyde Parker sent a signal to the Fleet ordering them to withdraw. Nelson pressed his telescope to his blind eye and said “I really do not see the signal”. He pressed home his attack and secured victory for the British. – Forrester, C.S., Nelson. Chatham Publishing (London: 1929) and Hibbert, Christopher. Nelson A Personal History. (Basic Books: 1994).

[5] Enlisted sailors, Petty Officer and above.

It’s about the Team.

Happy New Year.  I’m not one for New Years’ resolutions, but I am sorely tempted this year after I watched a brilliant TED Talk by Margaret Heffernan.  In essence the talk is about the importance of the team over individuals, and the leader’s role in creating the conditions and culture for the team to flourish. Where this is done well teams perform better and, because the team is creating the solutions and the value as opposed to dancing to the tune of a dictatorial director, diversity and social cohesion amongst the team enhance overall outcomes.  I wrote about the importance of diversity for high performance (amongst other issues) in my blog on Women in the Armed Forces last year and how, in my experience, it leads to superior teams.  Ms Heffernan explains it far better in her talk than I can and I would highly recommend taking 15 mins to watch it.

Her lecture chimed with me as many of the points she raised about the importance of the team resonated with my own leadership philosophy, which I committed to print as in 2015 I prepared to take on the role of the Commander (Weapon Engineer) in HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH.  We put it into practice as we formed up the Department, moved onboard the ship and took her to sea for the first time, bringing her home to Portsmouth in August 2017.  I have reproduced it below should it be of interest or in any way helpful.  I would, as always, be interested in your views and feedback and, importantly, your own philosophies of leadership. Like all of our skills, leadership only improves through iterative practise, honest feedback and critical reflection.

As for the New Year’s resolution: Ms Heffernan talks about the importance of ‘Social Capital’ – that mortar that holds the bricks of the team together, which is especially important when the pressure comes on.  This is generated by stepping away from the desk (and especially the email inbox), taking the time to get to know your team mates and developing shared experiences, and thus common bonds. We are good at this in the Royal Navy, it is a crucial part of our ethos, at least in our ships, submarines, naval air squadrons and commando units. I am less convinced that in the budget and staff constrained, and deadline-riven world of the HQ we value the generation of Social Capital anywhere near highly enough. So my resolution is to champion the value of  Social Capital in the HQ and to make the time to develop it.

Anyhoo, here’s my erstwhile departmental philosophy. See what you think:

 

HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH, Weapon Engineering Department Philosophy

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” – Aristotle

We are all hugely privileged to serve in HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH.  This ship, along with HMS PRINCE OF WALES, will be at the heart of our Nation’s reach and influence for decades to come.  We have the opportunity and the responsibility to set the conditions for her success from the outset, and we must do so in a manner worthy the Sovereign after whom the Ship is named.

Readiness and flexibility: We work for a Service whose purpose is not only to shape world events on behalf of HM Government, but also to respond in times of crisis.  Even locally, the unexpected can happen at any time and without warning.  These moments can be defining for the individuals, ships and even countries involved.  When the moment arrives (and it will) we must be ready.  We can only hope to achieve this if we make excellence our habit in all that we do: engineering standards, maintenance, administration, training, military bearing and our overall conduct.  By being as ready as we can possibly be, we can be confident to tackle whatever the world will throw at us.  We can thus meet events on the front foot with the flexibility to seize and retain the initiative, not worrying about playing catch-up on things that we ought to have done.

Teamwork: We will succeed together or not at all.  This is a team sport.  Effective teamwork relies on clear, honest and timely communication in all directions and we must all work hard to achieve this.  It also means that we don’t pass on problems; we must each take responsibility, trusting that the team will support us.  We will look out for each other, and when our support is needed we must offer it willingly.  Our instinct must not be to walk past and leave it to someone else – the standard we walk by is the standard we accept and we will, rightly, be judged accordingly. As our Nation’s Flagship we must set the highest standards.

Our Terms of Reference should be the bare minimum we seek to deliver.  We must add value wherever we are able across the Department, the Ship and the Service.  This doesn’t mean that we should do others’ jobs for them, and all must pull their weight, but it means creating a culture that allows the whole to be greater than the sum of the parts.  Everyone must feel part of this team.  As well as being entertaining, humour and ‘banter’ can have a powerful cohesive effect if grounded in trust and mutual respect, but it must be inclusive.  If there is any sense that an individual is being picked on, excluded, victimised, bullied or discriminated against it is corrosive and harmful to the team and the individual.  We will not tolerate this in our Department; we will treat others as we would wish to be treated ourselves.

Safety and Risk: Shipbuilding, seafaring, aviation and fighting are hazardous businesses. We must be assiduous therefore about safety.  Our enemies will try to do us harm, we must ensure that we do not do it to ourselves.  Safe systems of work exist and are to be adhered to.  Where there is a compelling need to take risk against safety this must be approved by the Command and, where appropriate, documented.  Do not take unnecessary risks with your own, or others’ safety, and look after each other.  We will have a just safety culture, reporting all incidents and near misses.

Getting HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH ready for, and conducting, operations will not be easy.  Frankly, if it were straightforward the Nation would not need us to do it!  It will be professionally and, at times, personally challenging but it will also be hugely rewarding. It should be a great deal of fun too and we must all do our best to make it so.  It’s going to be quite a ride – let’s enjoy it!

Finally, as a guiding principle: always do the right thing, not the easy thing.  If in doubt, ask.

When will HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH start doing her job?……She already is!

She slipped in quietly on Wednesday morning. No one made too much of a fuss so you may have missed it but, just in case you were away on holiday, HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH made her first entry into Portsmouth this week. This historic moment was marked by a visit from the Prime Minister and a whole flurry of media coverage. One of Fighting Sailor’s jobs onboard (no one has only one job in the Royal Navy) is being Head of the ship’s Media Team; this was a busy week!  Whilst chatting to one of the media crew embarked for the event he asked me “I bet you’ll be really excited when this ship actually starts doing its job?”.  Whilst well intentioned he, like many people, has missed the point.

HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH and her sister ship, HMS PRINCE OF WALES (due to be officially named next month), usher in a new era of global influence for the United Kingdom. It is an important statement about who we are as a nation: outward looking, global facing and engaged. We believe in the rule of law and the benefits of open secure trade. As an island nation, we are reliant on the sea for our prosperity and so a strong Royal Navy is essential. This may be the Government’s position but that’s not why I write it here – it is my honestly held view and, fundamentally, it’s why I do what I do.

The job of the aircraft carriers, then, is to project this influence onto the world stage, to reassure our allies and to deter those who would threaten our interests. It is the nation’s conventional strategic deterrent. Whilst early in her life, still owned by the shipbuilder (and thus flying a defaced blue ensign) and yet to achieve many of her key capability requirements; HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH is already and undoubtedly causing other countries to pay attention. The Russians have been very disparaging. Fine. It was the fact that they felt the need to comment at all that tells you all that you need to know.

To be fully effective, of course, it needs to be credible in its warfighting role and the achievement of Full Operating Capability for the UK’s Carrier Strike Group in 2023 will deliver exactly this, but the Carrier Strike Group will have teeth long before then. However, the ability to drop bombs on the bad guys from the sea or, more technically, to use maritime strike as a means to enact Government policy is one of the ways in which she achieves her purpose, this is not an end in and of itself. These ways (i.e. what the QE Class carriers will do) or the means (what the QE Class carriers are, e.g. 4 acres of sovereign territory, etc…) are often confused (as in the mind of my colleague from the press) with what they are for.  There are reams of text in MOD about what the UK’s nascent Carrier Strike capability is for. Here, for what it’s worth, is the Fighting Sailor version:

• They are to extend the reach of our Armed Forces to better enable them to protect and promote the United Kingdom’s interests and values around the world increasing our security and prosperity. The ships are operated by the Royal Navy on behalf of Defence. The British Army and, especially, Royal Air Force both have absolutely essential parts to play in delivering Carrier Strike – this is a team sport!
• They are to show that we are a nation that can look after ourselves and our friends. They are to reassure our allies and partners, and to deter those who would set themselves against us. This makes conflict less likely.
• They are a visible and tangible political commitment to the United Kingdom’s role as a force for global stability and the rules based international order as befits a permanent member of the United Nation’s Security Council.
• They are for expressing the United Kingdom’s national confidence, pride and ambition; something that has for centuries been vested in the Royal Navy as an ambassador of Great Britain in peace and war.
• Ultimately, in times of crisis or national emergency, the British people will look to the Armed Forces as they have so often in the past to be ready and able to respond. The Queen Elizabeth Class aircraft carriers will provide the platforms with the reach and flexibility from which to do just that.

To achieve these ends the Queen Elizabeth Class ships and their task groups will perform a wide variety of tasks: Carrier Strike, Humanitarian Relief, Non-Combatant Evacuation, Maritime Security, Diplomacy, Promotion of Trade and sometimes, just by being in the right place at the right time, they will deliver a clear statement of intent.  This is what HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH did on Wednesday.

So, the answer to the question posed: “I bet you’ll be really excited when this ship actually starts doing its job?”………..  She already is doing her job, and yes I am proud and excited to be part of it…. but there is much, much more to come.

 

Main picture credit: Adrian Whyntie

Women in the Armed Forces – the Right to Fight

Yesterday I tweeted about how proud I was to serve with the many brilliant women that we have in HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH’s Ship’s Company.  With International Women’s Day coming up this week I felt that I wanted to take a few moments to explain why I thought that this was an important thing to say publicly. Firstly, I’m not going to get into the silly debate of whether there should be an International Women’s Day – if you feel intimidated by the fact that there is one then you really need to address your own insecurities.  And, yes, there is an International Men’s Day (this year on 19 November since you ask).

There is lots of oft quoted research that there is a strong correlation between gender diversity on company Boards and company performance.  I have never yet seen convincing empirical evidence however that it is the gender diversity that causes this improved performance, rather than the diversity being the result of an organisation that genuinely recognises, recruits, develops and promotes talent irrespective of the reproductive organs that such talent happens to possess.  But my experience in the Royal Navy, and HMS QUEEN ELIZABETH in particular, has brought me to the conclusion that there is, in fact, a causal effect.  Now, one must be careful of generalising personal experience since the plural of anecdote is not data, but personal testimony can be powerful nonetheless.  We have some genuinely outstanding women serving in our ship, at just about every rank, and I am convinced that their influence makes us more effective.  My experience, as part of the ship’s Command Group, is that the team dynamics are improved, wider perspectives are considered and better decisions are made as a result.  As International Women’s Day approaches we should shout about this very loudly indeed.

But you don’t have to look far to see that this view is not universally shared amongst the wider population.  You only have to look at some of the online abuse that Capt Clare Coward received after the Storm in a Coffee Cup a couple of years ago to see that much of it wasn’t ‘banter’ but downright nasty sexist abuse.  That example isn’t unique and, shamefully, it seems like some ex-Servicemen are the worst culprits – the “it wasn’t like that in my day” brigade.  Much of this is based on pure ignorance and prejudice but it’s not just the dinosaurs. A colleague of mine confided that in social situations (in the real world, not military functions) she’s reluctant to tell people that she’s in the Armed Forces as it, quite often, elicits an unfavourable reaction from men and women alike.  By comparison, my problem is that I can’t shut up about being in the Navy – you might have noticed!  This underlying societal prejudice needs to be addressed if we are to make the most of the talent available to us.  And let’s be clear what we’re talking about here: the purpose of the Armed Forces is to achieve Government policy outcomes through the use or threat (implied or explicit) of violence.  It’s about fighting.  So, whilst it is morally and legally right to treat people equally irrespective of gender, it is also in the interests of being combat effective (of maximising your chances of winning the fight) to have the best people in your team that you can possibly have.  It is a matter of life and death.  Literally.

And yet women are underrepresented, especially in the higher ranks of the Armed Forces.  Part of the problem is that the Military has a bottom-fed manpower system and to get promoted one needs to hit certain career milestones to have the credibility and merit for promotion.  There are very good reasons for this, although there are some interesting counter-arguments too but that is how the system is and it is unlikely to change dramatically anytime soon.  And Service life, particularly in the Royal Navy, is demanding: lots of separation and unsociable hours, often with short notice programme changes.  Family life is one reason that people leave the Service before serving a full career.  Women, proportionately far more than men, step off this conveyor belt for family reasons.  You can argue about whether this tendency is innate biology (Richard Dawkins in the Selfish Gene makes the case for the maternal instinct, in general, being stronger than the paternal one) or the product of indoctrinated gender roles, constructs and biases in a patriarchal society.  It’s probably both.  We need to promote equality of opportunity and freedom of choice. If the policies and attitudes (always more work to do!) around parental leave and family life are equitable (including for those without a family or children – just because you don’t have kids, it’s not fair to get stiffed for all the Christmas Duties) then we must respect the choices made.  But, we can go a long way towards encouraging more women to stay for longer by increasing the support and mentoring of Servicewomen, recognising their contribution and challenging prejudice, especially unconscious bias, when we encounter it.  This includes, by the way, the families of Servicewomen who may face prejudice of their own, especially around society’s assumptions about family mobility and relocation on posting.  How many male military spouses get invited to the “wives’” coffee morning?

Societally, I think there are some own goals here too.  I have a concern that the well-intentioned, and otherwise entirely laudable, campaigns to end violence against women, for example, have the side effect of delegitimising women’s participation in combat.  Now, please don’t for a moment think that I’m in any way condoning domestic violence or the targeting of non-combatants in any form, nor am I denying that the majority of such violence is perpetrated against women.  But, surely, encouraging me to make a pledge to “never to commit, condone, or remain silent about men’s violence against women in all its forms” has the unintended side-effect of perpetuating the perception that somehow men need to do women’s fighting for them?  In the context of women serving in our Armed Forces (or those of the enemy) their ‘right to fight’ should be championed.  I wouldn’t target an enemy combatant because she was a woman, but nor would I avoid doing so because of her gender. To make this pledge (and mean it) and still champion gender equality in our Armed Forces would make me a hypocrite. I know that’s not what it’s supposed to mean, and the global issues that this campaign and similar ones seek to address are real and deserving of action, but that’s what it says.  I’m only using it as an example, but in perpetuating the unconscious biases that give rise to gender inequality the language used is a challenge.

How often do we still hear the term “women and children” used when it comes to reporting tragic events?  Through the lens of gender equality in our Armed Forces surely we ought to challenge the idea that women, like children, need special protection and should be offered first seats in the lifeboat when danger threatens? It may seem petty but it’s not; it is this unconscious bias that underpins claims that women are unsuited to the full range of roles in the Armed Forces and undermines the great value that the women in our Armed Forces bring.  They deserve better.  Sure, in general, there are physical differences between men and women which is why many sports have separate categories for women (although more than really should – why do women have a separate darts competition for example?).  But we shouldn’t exclude capable people because of a generality, that’s silly.  It’s right that all branches of the Armed Forces should be open to anyone who’s capable and willing.

So, as someone who wishes to support, promote and celebrate the work of the women in our Armed Forces please don’t ask me to pledge that women should not be engaged in violence – I want to champion and celebrate their right to fight!