Saying Thank You In Afghanistan

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

There are certain habits leaders should master which require a sense of timing and an empathetic heart. One of these habits is acknowleding the end of uncommon experiences helping those involved to see a future made brighter because of a challenging journey. I’ve been fortunate this year to participate in two such acknowledgements one as an observer and one as the leader.

While on mid-tour leave back in June, I joined the graduating class of Cardigan Mountain School as they climbed the mountain from which the school took its name. This tradition took place at the end of the day and the headmaster seized a few moments to reflect on the significance of their pending graduation and reminded the boys that it may be the last time that every member of the class together shared the same sunset. Pictures were taken, hugs were had and parting words passed between classmates, teachers and family members to become permanent memories sure to long outlast the final rays of the day’s light.

Fast forward to November 30^th when I asked my Intelligence team to assemble in the commander’s conference room in our headquarter’s building located on Bagram Airfield. It would be the last time that this group would assemble as a team and I wanted to thank them for making this mission successful and let them know how significant their service has been. Like the now widespread Cardigan Mountain School students, this group was about to re-deploy scattering across the country and back to hometowns making perfect attendance at a future reunion near impossible. They needed to drink in the full weight and measure of what I was about to say.

There is likely not a Soldier today who hasn’t been told, “Thank you.” Ordinary and unknown citizens extend thanks in airports and public places with comfortable frequency. General Officers and Command Sergeant Majors are very good at thanking Soldiers often giving out their coin – a nice tradition unique to the Army. And VIPs, including the President of the United States, always request an assembly in large part to say, “Thanks.” Especially since the end of the Vietnam war, there is one characteristic that is distinguishing about this country. Americans are free to withdraw their support of American policy and sometimes do. Americans are also free to withdraw their support of American soldiers and, I believe, never again will. I think that is why being thanked for serving has become so common – and sincere.

But I wanted to thank the soldiers with whom I served because I had shared this uncommon experience with them and knew, better than anyone, that their excellent work was done amidst struggles and sacrifices. I’ve had the advantage and privelege of position most often serving as a quiet listener and as their interested leader. I overheard challenges with kids, struggles with schedules under a single-parent roof and saw tears of sadness when a loved one passed and no leave or plane or plans could get someone home in time to pay one’s respects. There were days when a Soldier came into my office, shut the door and asked for some time off to get through something that was upsetting or unsettling. There were stretches of long hours brought on by harasssing rockets and even one complex attack. May 19^th, the day of the “BAF attack,” will always mean something for those in that conference room. No award, no evaluation report, no public recognition really, in my estimation, means as much as sincere appreciation from someone with whom you have served and have shared so much. So I looked into the eyes of those assembled and jokingly thanked them for assembling at a mandatory meeting. And then I thanked them….as sincerely as I knew how. As a group – one last time.

As much as I hope my Soldiers felt my sincerity, it is even more important that they understand how significant their serivce has been. So I shared with them some of the same language Secretary of Defense Robert Gates has been using in speeches to highlight a few remarkable statistics describing our all volunteer force. On September 30, 2010, Mr. Gates spoke to students at Duke University and said that, “The Iraq and Afghan campaigns represent the first protracted, large-scale conflicts since our Revolutionary War fought entirely by voluteers.” This volunteer force represents less than one percent of our Nation’s population based on approximately 2.4 million men and women in uniform of nearly 300 million countrymen and women. It is not even true to suggest that anyone could serve by raising his or her hand to become a volunteer which would suredly mean a deployment to a combat zone. According to a survey conducted by Mission: Readiness, a Washington-based non-profit organization, three out of four people between the ages of seventeen and twenty-four years old are ineligible due to poor education, obesity or other physical ailments. Even among those who have a high school diploma, many fail the military’s entrance exam known as the Armed Forces Qualification Test. A majority of Soldiers, I suspect, are unaware of their historic statisitical significance volunteering to join a minority tasked with securing a nation’s freedoms. I thought that hearing this message from me, someone with whom they have persevered daily since late 2009, would be a lasting claim to carry with them as they enter airport hangars and terminals arriving to a grateful reception.

There was one final point I made to my Soldiers and it focused on the responsbilitiy of their significant service. Despite terrific benefits for those who serve, I wanted my Soldiers to think about not being entitled, but being enabled. I told them to never let the deployment, as disruptive and sacrificial as it may have been, to become an excuse not to do something that you really want to do. Rather, view your significant service as an enabler – each one of my Soldiers has grown and developed over this deployment. It is especially pleasing to see the self confidence and self esteem in young Soldiers rise because they embraced an uncommon experience. It will be enjoyable to learn about Soldiers who return or enroll in school, pursue Officer Candidate School or ROTC, or attend Army schools to further their skills or leadership.

The Army is far from perfect and, like any organization, I observed performance, discipline and attitudinal behaviors derailing a Soldier’s potential. But like any adverse opportunity embraced well, most of these Soldiers grew and matured all the while serving something larger than self. To thank them wasn’t required, it was simply my honor.

RVA

Credits

Lecture at Duke University (All-Volunteer Force), As Delivered by Secretary of Defense Robert M. Gates, Durham, North Carolina, Wednesday, September 29, 2010, www.defense.gov/speeches/secdef.aspx

Girding for an Uphill Battle for Recruits, by Christian Davenport and Emma Brown, Washington Post Online, November 5, 2009

The Pricelessness of Hindsight

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

Time is a powerful asset. Even compared to money, which is regarded as time’s sibling asset, time has advantages that cannot be matched. For instance, even as time passes there is pricelessness in dissecting past decisions with specific consideration given to when and how a decision that has already been made, is then made public. While there is likely a range of opinions on LeBron James’ decision to leave his hometown Cleveland Cavaliers for the Miami Heat, there is far more negative consensus regarding how he ostentatiously publicized his decision.

Even LeBron, it appears, has come to realize that. Michael Wallace, who covers the Heat and the NBA for ESPN, recently covered James’ reflection on his decision to sign with Miami. Writing in the wake of the start of the NBA regular season, James is quoted as saying, “If I had to go back on it, I probably would do it a little bit different.” Implied in this statement is that James would not announce his decision in a one-hour, primetime made-for-sports-TV show.

One of my eleven character principles is the Three Decisions Principle which states, “Making a single decision requires you to make two more.” These latter two decisions address the when and how surrounding a single decision and are summarized by asking the question, “When and how will I act on the decision I made?” In hindsight, I think LeBron acknowledged that his actions associated with when and how to announce his decision to sign with Miami has negatively impacted his public perception probably more than the actual decision.

For LeBron, as is the case for many young athletes, time remains on his side. He has both the value of passed time to look back on his decisions as well as the assumed future time to put that wisdom in action. That really is how he, or any of us, accelerates the maturing of our character.

RVA

Credits

For LeBron James, hindsight 20/20, by Michael Wallace, ESPN.com, November 1, 2010.

Hazing, Shoulder Pads and a $54,000 Dinner

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

The views and opinions are mine and mine alone and should not be interpreted as shared by others with whom I serve or the United States Army.

Roger Staubach was my first sports hero. He was the last service academy player to win the Heisman Trophy doing so in 1963 when Navy finished second in the country with a 9 – 1 record. I doubt that a service academy will ever again finish ranked so high or that a Heisman Trophy will ever again be awarded to a Cadet or Midshipman. Most all know that Staubach is a Hall of Famer and spent the 1970’s playing quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys. You may have guessed this introduction is really not about him, but rather an issue generated by current Cowboys who, in my opinion, are fostering a very un-Super Bowl like chemistry and reputation. I admit to being old school, but not to being old. So I won’t apologize for saying that the only thing large about Dez Bryant’s $54,000 dinner bill is the gap between the obvious athletic skill of the players involved and lack of collective wisdom in the recent decisions that could be characterized as hazing and described as gluttonous.

This whole fiasco started when rookie Dez Bryant refused to carry the veteran Roy Williams’ shoulder pads. That is one of the rights of passage by which a rookie apparently becomes a full-fledged member of the team. It is also called hazing even if, I admit, there is likely no physical or emotional harm for not doing it – only financial so it appears. The punishment for a rookie not carrying a veteran's shoulder pads was dinner and Bryant recently treated Williams and several teammates making up for his rookie oversight - the bill came to more than $54,000. Public reaction ensued, not surprisingly. Bryant termed the public disapproval over the $54,000 dinner as ‘funny’ further separating his understanding from reality.

Roy Williams, talking after the $54,000 dinner, hinted that he sort of gets it when he observed, “But he's still out there as a punt returner, catching balls and doing things he needs to do, and I'm doing things I need to do to make this team better.” I always thought that was the best way to become part of the team.

Soldiers are not in the entertainment business so I can’t admit to fully understanding the perspective of the two athletes seated at the center of a $54,000 dinner table. And neither have those athletes served overseas so it may be easy for them to dismiss my perspective, but here are three things to consider.

1. Privates and Lieutenants are not expected to carry body armor for First Sergeants and Lieutenant Colonels. If you visit any unit, you will find veteran soldiers not only carrying their own equipment, but taking full responsibility for cleaning personal weapons and maintaining their gear. It just works better that way.

2. $54,000 is about what an E5 (Sergeant) earns including base salary, housing allowances and other benefits. That is an annual amount. And the job can be dangerous. Very dangerous.

3. The best way to become part of a team is to work hard, do more than what is expected of you and always work to improve your skills. You could be really good at hazing others, or really good at being a hazed victim, and still be a non-factor on game day. Hazing does not improve anyone’s performance.

To be fair, I hope that something positive will emerge from all of this – for the players and fans. It is unlikely to occur until the players involved accept a timeless truth about a gap that exists between athletic skills and a fully mature character. The talent that enables a player to become a professional draft pick is likely more mature than the character necessary to handle the responsibility that comes with being a high performing and highly visible athlete. Closing that gap is where time, money and energy should be spent.

Update

In the days that have passed since I wrote my first draft, the Cowboys lost to the Tennessee Titans 34 – 27 dropping their record to 1 – 3.

Acknowledgements

Roy Williams pays back Dez Bryant

By Calvin Watkins

ESPNDallas.com
September 29, 2010

Dez Bryant: Dinner bill 'funny'

By Tim MacMahon
ESPNDallas.com

8 October 2010

Why Character, Why Now - The Adversity Principle

By RICK VAN ARNAM

Bagram, Afghanistan

About three years ago, I asked my daughter what her most painful memory was. I don’t recall much about the day – whether it was a sunny or rainy, warm or cold – the details escape me and will never be reclaimed, but I remember her answer. We were somewhere alone, likely driving. We were having a serious conversation absent an iPod or a texting cell phone. I thought she would reply recounting the story about her bike accident that happened on August 19, 2005. She was nine years old and riding down Turkey Hill Road on her way to the municipal pool. There is a stretch on our dirt road that gently slopes downward with a field on the right and woods on the left. Trailing her brother, she heard something down and to the left-rear of her bike, like something catching in the chain, and looked back to investigate. Her movement had the unintentional consequence of steering the bike to the left toward the woods. Her front tire fell off the road and into a ditch immediately stopping the bike and breaking her right wrist and her left upper arm as she launched forward, helmet and headfirst into a maturing maple tree. My cool-headed son, who was eleven at the time, provided comfort and aid and sped off on his bike to call me from our home. I arrived on the scene within minutes. The next couple of hours were scary. The helmet, now cracked, had done its job preventing serious injury, but she was broken, literally. Her wrist needed a cast and her upper arm needed a pin inserted surgically. It broke my heart to see her hurt, shaking and looking so frightened. So when I asked her about her most painful memory, like an attorney, I thought I knew the answer. But I was wrong. Her most painful memory, as it turned out, was watching me go to Afghanistan in 2003 – for the first time.

Surprised by her reply, I quizzed her. “Elana,” I asked, “how come your bike accident isn’t your most painful memory.” Her insightful answer was without pause as she explained, “The bike accident hurt, but only for a little while…it was just physical pain. But watching you deploy hurt my heart and lasted much longer.”

What these two experiences do not have in common is the type of pain – physical versus emotional – and where the pain was felt – upper arms versus the lower heart (ache). But what the two experiences do have in common is that neither was chosen. If you ask yourself, “What is the most painful thing that has happened to me?” chances are good that you will arrive at something that you did not choose. In these answers, and reflection, is the inspiration for my second of eleven character principles titled, The Adversity Principle, and states that, “Sometimes you choose adversity, but more often adversity picks you.” More important than the principle is the accompanying question, “How will you respond?”

Appreciating the onset of adversity is not an instinct that comes naturally, but could become the start of an opportunistic response if thought of as the first-step in a character shaping process. The Roman poet Horace suggested that in one of his reflections on life, “Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents, which, in prosperous circumstances, would have laid dormant.”

Chuck Swindoll, in his famous quote sometimes attributed to Lou Holtz, made it even easier – he simply called adversity ‘life’ saying, “Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you respond to it.” Sandwiched between Horace and Holtz is Paul writing to the Romans nearly two thousand years ago that we “should rejoice in our sufferings,” which is not a conversational phrase often heard over coffee at a Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts. But it is true – adversity has a way of shaping our character, for better or for worse, based primarily on our first response. The character developing steps that follow – to persevere, the formation of specific character traits and the confidence found in true hope – lay out the entire process.

The 10% of things that happen in life are not age discriminatory. Jackie Robinson, for example, experienced a lifetime’s worth of adversity in 1968 and none was chosen. Approaching fifty years old, 1968 was a year likely more difficult for Robinson than a year two decades earlier in which he broke Major League Baseball’s color barrier. I was a little too young to remember the details of 1968, but it was a year set apart from 1946 – the first full year of peace following WWII and a year that John Updike once suggested was the best year of the 20th century. If 1968 was difficult for our country, it was more so for Jackie Robinson. In that year, his eldest son, Jackie Jr., was arrested – twice. A Vietnam veteran, he led a wandering life upon his return fighting war demons by indulging in drugs and getting to know the police for all the wrong reasons. Also that year, both Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr and Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated. If Robinson’s impact on Civil Rights is best contained in the history of baseball, King’s impact on Civil Rights is best expanded upon in the history of mankind. Robinson and King were dogged in their purpose and shared a special camaraderie. And although he sparred with Senator Kennedy, Robinson was growing warmer to the former Attorney General, whose Civil Rights record was noteworthy. The tragic death of mainstream leaders was hard on Jackie Robinson, like losing teammates while in pursuit of a championship. 1968 was also the year in which Jackie Robinson’s mother passed and his only daughter was married despite her father’s reservations (it would later end in divorce). And if he did not suffer enough heartache in 1968, Robinson also learned that he had real heart issues signaling the start of his final, three year decline. For an exceptional athlete who once persevered through adversity reliant in large part on physical giftedness, it was faith and hope that carried him through 1968 when his physical condition could no longer keep up.

In sixty or so days, I’ll be home from my second deployment to Afghanistan and at some point will find myself again alone and in serious conversation with my daughter. I’ll likely ask her about this period of voluntold* adversity curious to determine its impact. I won’t, though, assume to know her answer as I did a few years ago. She is fourteen now and a veteran of seeing me go away. Somehow, I suspect her positive response to my first deployment shaped character traits in her that made this deployment less painful. But I’ll let you know what she tells me.

RVA

* Vol·un·told
 –adjective
Asked without the ability to say no. An Army word frequently used to describe a Soldier’s notification of deployment.

Acknowledgements
Jackie Robinson: A Biography, By Arnold Rampersad

Why Character, Why Now – The YouTube Principle

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

YouTube uploaded its first video on April 23, 2005 and, in what approximates a long military deployment, was sold about eighteen months later to Google for $1.65 billion. You would think such valuation resulted from explosive revenue, but it was not. In fact Google, which runs YouTube as a subsidiary, reports that “we have yet to realize significant revenue benefits from our acquisition of YouTube” (Google, Form 10-Q, 5 May 2010). To put that purchase amount in perspective, consider a couple of figures in the news recently related to the Kabul Bank in Afghanistan which may be near collapse if not insolvent. Afghanistan’s President Karzai, trying to reassure the international community, stated that the country’s foreign currency reserves stood at $4.8 billion (New York Times, September 2, 2010). And according to the CIA Factbook, government revenues for all of Afghanistan in 2009 amounted to approximately $1 billion. So why is it that YouTube, a start-up company began by three former PayPal employees, commanded such a purchase price despite an absence of profit?

The answer, in large part, is due to the insatiable human appetite to watch last minute’s action from what is a considered a replay through its maturity as a current event to something that eventually endures as history. YouTube entertains – perhaps the largest purpose of video – and its founders capitalized on the confluence of technology and this human demand. The popularity of YouTube inspires the first of my eleven character principles which I have named, The YouTube Principle, and states that, “All of your life is recordable.”

Following entertainment, education may be the second most popular purpose of video and both entertainment and education provide context for the process of character development. History will make room for both – people of character and those described simply as characters. Deciding between becoming a person of character and becoming a character is at the heart of the question that accompanies The YouTube Principle which is, “What will comprise your culminating sixty-second highlight?” Think of it as an ESPN SportsCenter exercise. If your life were to become an ESPN SportsCenter highlight, what would you want it to include? In a virtually transparent world, how you answer that question has never been more important.

Earlier this year, Faisal Shahzad drove a SUV into Times Square, parked it and walked away. The SUV contained a crude bomb that was intended to detonate causing massive casualties. Fortunately, no one was injured and the ill performing device was detected before it could cause its intended harm. Within a short period, Shahzad, a naturalized citizen born in Pakistan, was rounded up at Kennedy Airport. Among the first investigative instincts toward apprehending Shahzad was to look at surveillance footage from up to eighty cameras scanning one of the busiest areas of New York City. Not surprisingly, he was quickly found on video. But police had enough on him without the video by associating him with the vehicle’s registration which was tracked from the SUV’s vehicle identification number.

I realize that the terrorist caught on a surveillance camera in Times Square is an exception. Most all of us don’t have character traits that drive our behavior outside of the law. But it is a high profile example of how effortless is it to trace steps in a person’s life. It is not an overstatement to say that a person’s life today is almost completely traceable with every step or transaction recorded by camera, video or ATM.

Like it or not, we all may as well have a bar code scanned on our foreheads that would allow us to be tracked like a FedEx package. This fact makes the Leave No Trace program better suited for outdoor enthusiasts than a mantra for living life. Leading a life without trace is not only impractical, it would be tragic and begs for answer The YouTube Principle accompanying question, “What will comprise your culminating sixty-second highlight?” In that answer is found the real incentive associated with The YouTube Principle: knowing our lives are recordable should not be a deterent to act, but rather an incentive to act well. That incentive will fill a personal library with replays, some held privately and many more held publicly, that tell a story accurately of who a person really is. And for the same reason that instant replay has been used more and more to adjudicate sports plays, video doesn’t mislead.

Video serves two leading purposes – to entertain and to educate. Wisdom in action, my definition for character, has much to do with both entertainment and education. For example, video has much in common with a sports industry dominated by players serving dual roles as athletes-entertainers. As athletes, players take advantage of cameras that circle arenas and fields to make in-game adjustments, prepare for the next game or discover skills that need further development. As entertainers, the camera lens reveals character in celebration, in interviews and in off field decisions. There are other dual roles in the world today – citizen-soldier, student-athlete – even the line between professional and amateur is blurring writes Megan McArdle a noted writer on business and economics (theatlantic.com, June 24, 2010) suggesting one could either be a professional-amateur or an amateur-professional.

Of the eleven principles of character, I’ve placed The YouTube Principle first to call attention to the transparency of our culture – not to deter action, but to remind us that by placing acquired wisdom in action our character is shaped. After all, a life lived is both transparent and reviewable. But it is not both reviewable and re-livable.

RVA

Perseverance - The Reading Glasses Principle

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

On the outside legs of the Army Combat Uniform (ACU), below the knee, is a pocket. No one knows exactly for what the pocket was designed, but I can tell you from daily experience that it holds a case for glasses comfortably. In my right leg pocket, you will find my reading glasses. It is such a convenient spot for holding reading glasses that I am certain the designer must have been somewhere north of forty-seven years old and wore reading glasses, too. For those older than I, you are likely smiling, even chuckling thinking, “Van Arnam is finally accepting the inevitable – he’s getting older, too.” For those younger than me, you are probably thinking…..well, I probably don’t really want to know.

On the occasion of my 48^th birthday, which I celebrated on August 20^th, I thought about my reading glasses as a symbol that reminds me of the process of character development. Among my Eleven Principles of Character, The Reading Glasses Principle states “Character development takes time.” The accompanying question for everyone to answer, whether twenty-eight or forty-eight years old is, “How will I find contentment along the way?” That question is likely more difficult to answer at twenty-eight than at forty-eight and more difficult even at forty-eight than at sixty-eight.

I recall a day back at Ft. Jackson, South Carolina on a basic training firing range during the summer of 1985. I can go back to that moment in seconds recalling the morning summer’s humidity, the light orange Southern clay and the wooden ammunition table around which I was having a conversation with a Command Sergeant Major twenty years my senior. At Ft. Jackson, I was an infantry officer working with basic trainees and a world removed from most of my peers who were leading infantry platoons in units far more recognizable than mine. I had not been to Ranger school or been assigned overseas. There was so much I wanted to do and it felt as if these opportunities would never come to me. His advice to an impatient young lieutenant was to stick to a plan, follow the process and get yourself ready. Not the advice I wanted to hear. The problem I was having was not so much around the process or next assignment, but how was I going to find contentment along the way?

A partial answer to that question rests in accepting wisdom in action as a definition for character. I’ve often been asked what is the diference between my 2003 Aghanistan tour and my current 2010 deployment to the same theater. Half jokingly, my reply has been two words, “Reading glasses.”

Truthfully, there is a big difference in the seven years between deployments and most of the change can be rolled into the application of wisdom, or as the Army calls it, lessons learned. Organizationally or individually, we are either more or less effective based on how much of what we learned in the past, we apply in the future. This is the measure of a character’s maturity. The more wisdom applied, likely the more developed our character. And there is no gettting around this fact – with reading glasses comes approximately four and half decades of living and most of that time represents learning opportunities.

I thought of this principle as I read about Syracuse Coach Jim Boeheim earlier this year when his team was ranked near the top of the college basketball polls. Boeheim is the longtime coach of the Orange and a 1966 graduate of Syracuse University. I grew up an hour north of Syracuse in the 1970’s where following SU basketball is what one did in the winter. Before the Carrier Dome, Syracuse played in Manley Field House and had enviable regular seasons records, but struggled annually in the post season. Then came the Carrier Dome, larger tournaments and greater expectations. But the the knock on Boeheim remained; his teams could not shoot free throws down the stretch or win the really big games. Attendance at the Dome soared past 30,000 when rivals visited and Boeheim’s future was secure anchored by twenty-win seasons and his deep Syracuse roots despite disappointing fans each March.

Slowly, a funny thing happened began to occur. Under Coach Boeheim and along the way to 829 wins – Syracuse began to win in the post season. In 1987, Boeheim’s eleventh season as head coach, Syracuse made their first Final Four appearance. That year, the Orangemen (later the nickname was shortened to Orange) lost to Indiana in the championship game on a Keith Smart basket with seconds remaining. Nine years later, Boeheim guided his team to the Final Four and the championship game for the second time where they lost to Kansas. In both appearances, Syracuse was not favored to win and did not.

But even with the losses, Boeheim’s reputation was growing favorably. He had coached two teams to the Final Four and he had established Syracuse as a national power. His next trip to the Final Four would come sooner than his previous. In his twenty-sixth year as head coach, he guided a Carmelo Anthony led-team to the championship game where Syracuse beat Kentucky – an achievement that seemed impossible during the Manley Field House days in the late 1970’s.

Talk about wisdom in action – by the 2009-2010 season, Coach Boeheim surpassed 825 wins and is widely recognized as a master of the two-three zone defense. His name is now spoken of in the same conversations with other great coaches that include famed Duke coach Mike Krzyzewki with whom he is serving as an assistant coach for Team USA in the FIBA World Championships currenlty underway. Next to his 829 wins are 293 losses which likeky add as much or more to the lessons learned as the victories. And therein lies most of the contentment – whether wining or losing – it is not the current tally that matters as much as how much a person applies from what is learned on both sides of the win – loss column.

RVA

Perseverance - The Three Decisions Principle

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

Not many organizations make as many decisions as the Army. The Army, I think, is pretty good at making decisions if not at least very comfortable. I was thinking about this during a recent Battle Update Brief (BUB) to the commander and just how routine it has become to brief him and ask for a decision. Last night’s BUB was particularly succinct comparable to a pitchers’ duel in baseball marked by both efficiency and effectiveness.

The staff’s success at mastering the decision making process as instinct made we wonder about one of my Eleven Principles of Character Development. The Three Decisions Principle states that, “Making a single decision requires you to make two more.” These latter two decisions address the when and how surrounding a single decision and are summarized by asking the question, “When and how will I act on the decision I made?”

It is not that we endeavor to make wrong decisions, but the realization that even when we make the right decision, the outcome can be limited because we made a mistake in timing or an error in execution. So if you have ever asked yourself, “What was that person thinking?” chances are good that he or she did not understand that every decision requires two more. Let’s dig deeper.

Kathryn Schulz is the author of the book, Being Wrong, and also writes a blog called The Wrong Stuff. She has a “credible claim as the world’s leading wrongologist” according to her homepage description and is consumed with doing forensics on decisions. In a recent interview with Peter Norvig, an engineer and director of research at Google, he reminds us that to be a good engineer requires failure. It is a prerequisite to learning, refinement and improvement on things consumers like to buy or services customers like to use – like Google.

I am not an engineer, but have believed that in order to be a good leader, I have to be willing to make decisions even if a decision may be wrong. It is perhaps the best way to learn as well as a fast way to make progress – as long as a quick, corrective decision is made subsequently. For years I have reminded my team that I’d rather be seven out of ten, with three wrong decisions, than to be two out of three with only one wrong decision. Seventy percent is better than sixty-seven percent and I generally believe that progress results from making decisions, not in avoiding them. I don’t encourage hazard by this, I am encouraging progress – and I recognize that there are those decisions that are major or strategic and require more time, more analysis or more input because there may be lives at stake or require a major investment.

But aside from the decisions of business or the military, I am even more interested in personal decisions that affect a person’s character development. And I think there are parallels that can be drawn in analyzing Google’s engineering philosophy and decisions that shape who a person is becoming.

At Google, Peter Norvig talks about two kinds of errors. He says, “One is, there's a clear error in the code: It's supposed to do one thing and it does something else. In that case, you know when you've got it wrong, and you'll know when you've got it right.” I speculate in this case, the fix includes a re-write of the code, which even I understand from taking a very basic programming course a long time ago.

The second kind of error, according to Norvig, occurs when the code may not necessarily be wrong, but it is not providing the best or most effective result. And that is the purpose of correctly answering the when and how questions in the Three Decisions Principle. Assuming a person makes the right initial decision, the when or how can either make the initial decision wildly successful or marginally effective.

Let me provide an example. Jackie Robinson’s story has always captivated me as one of the best displays of personal courage in human history. His ability to be one of the best baseball players of all time required tremendous restraint amidst both on and off the field hate, prejudice and threats and is beyond modern day understanding for most. It is fitting that his number “42” has been retired by Major League Baseball in honor of one of the greatest human achievements in baseball’s history.

Jackie’s ascension to the Brooklyn Dodgers was led by Branch Rickey. Rickey was the president and general manager of the Dodgers when he signed Robinson to a minor league contract in 1945. Basically, Rickey had already made the initial decision – that he would break a long standing policy and allow an African American to play in the Major Leagues in order to desegregate baseball. Once that decision was made, Rickey likely spent far more time deciding on the when and how decisions that followed than he had in deciding to sign Robinson in the first place.

During spring training in 1947, Rickey was asked by reporters about his plans for Robinson and replied, “If Robinson merits being with the Dodgers, I’d prefer to have the players want him, rather than force him on the players. I want Robinson to have the fairest chance in the world without the slightest bit of prejudice.” This quote, from Arnold Rampersad’s biography titled, Jackie Robinson, provides great insight into both the consideration of timing and the skill with which Rickey handled the execution. The rest, of course, is history. Robinson debuted for the Dodgers that year on opening day and went on to win the first-ever, Rookie-of-the-Year award commencing a Hall of Fame career. But Rickey’s precise execution, which included moving the Dodgers’ Spring Training location to Panama and Cuba from the South, led to a very effective result.

In the development of a person’s character, the ability to think through the latter two considerations may be just as important than making a right first decision. You have probably made an important decision in the past and were confident that the decision was correct. In that case, you may have confided to someone, “I want to do this, but I don’t the best way.” It is that habit, that curiosity and that mental exercise that leads to better results by making three decisions, rather than just one.

Maybe I have a little wrongologist in me or that all of us like to engage in dissecting high-profile decisions like that of President Obama’s to relieve General McChrystal this summer or watching how LeBron James handles his free agency decision. Regardless of why, I think the purpose of analyzing decisions is to reduce the cycle time in learning. This is what Peter Norvig referred to when he mentions “failing faster and smaller” to describe how a public company like Google can tolerate errors and actually become stronger. A large part of reducing personal cycle time is being able to answer, “When and how am I going to act on the decision I have made?”

RVA

Credits

The Wrong Stuff, Kathryn Schulz, 3 August 2010 (www.slate.com)

Missed History and a Reputable Principle

By RICK VAN ARNAM

Bagram, Afghanistan

Dining facilities in Afghanistan are filled with sports fans with their eyes glued to flat screen televisions just as they would back home. And from these seats, counting the days until one goes home includes counting sporting events like the World Cup, Major League Baseball or following Lebron James’ odyssey from Cleveland to Miami. And by my count, there are seventy-three regular season baseball games remaining confirming my status as a both a sports fan and soldier anxious to return home.

As I have followed sports this summer, I have become more curious about the impact of the rules of a game and the regulations of a league and the impact both have on players and sports history. Maybe you have had similar thoughts throughout this summer as history has been both made and missed.

Detroit Tiger pitcher Armando Galarraga, for example, missed history on June 3rd when umpire John Joyce made a mistake on a call at first base with two outs in the ninth inning that otherwise would have completed one of baseball’s most difficult achievements. Instead of being one of twenty-one pitchers in the history of the game to toss a perfect game*, Galarraga became just another pitcher to throw a one-hitter – an accomplishment achieved a thousand times or more. If there was any consolation it could be found in the grace with which he handled it. Subjected to many interviews following the missed call, the sound bite now universally associated with his missed history is Galarraga’s statement that keeps things in perspective, “I know nobody’s perfect.” On the other side of Galarraga’s grace is matching humility in umpire Joyce’s acknowledgement that he screwed up. “It was the biggest call of my career," an emotional Joyce told reporters, "and I kicked it. I just cost that kid a perfect game." In the days after June 3rd, Galarraga and Joyce were like elegant dancers with one allowing space for forgiveness and the other humbly submitting. And when history records what really happened as a result of the missed call, it may have more to say about character and reputation than about the score or the skill of those involved.

The recently concluded World Cup provided plenty of officiating drama including a missed goal in the Round of Sixteen match between England and Germany. Both nations are historic contenders for the FIFA World Cup Trophy and this match was considered one of the premier contests in the tournament. With Germany leading 2 - 1 and the English pressuring a comeback late in the first half, a linesman missed a goal when a ball struck by one of England’s players ricocheted downward off the crossbar, hit clearly inside the goal line and spun backward to the German goalkeeper. Despite being in the proper position, the linesman missed it and play continued without interruption proving that Armando Galaragga’s comment that “nobody’s perfect” can apply to officials in any sport. Had the goal counted, the match would have been even at two likely changing the second half strategies for both clubs. Germany eventually won by a score of 4 – 1 before dropping their next match to the Netherlands who subsequently lost to Spain. Fortunately, Spain’s first World Cup Championship seems unaffected by the missed goal – unless perhaps you are a die-hard English fan.

Lastly, there was the Lebron James’ free agency circus. James, arguably the best player on the planet, spent his first seven years in the league with the Cleveland Cavaliers who play their home games not far from James’ hometown of Akron. Lebron’s decision to leave his home state for the Miami Heat was guided by NBA rules which set a salary cap designed to give every team the same opportunity to sign the best available players. These rules and his personal decision process created a winner-take-all sweepstakes that attracted paparazzi and ESPN in the prime time for the official announcement. Joining James in Miami are two of the NBA’s best – Chris Bosh, formerly of the Toronto Raptors, and Dwayne Wade who re-signed with the Heat – the only team for which he has ever played. All three took less money to be on the same roster sparking reaction ranging from accusatory to mean. Dallas Mavericks’ owner Mark Cuban, for example, suggested that the players involved, the Miami Heat or all had done something unethical. Dan Gilbert, majority owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers, wrote an open letter to Cavalier fans harshly criticizing James. His letter drew a fine of $100,000 from the NBA based on another rule meant to shape off court conduct.

In this last example, only time will tell if James’ decision was right or wrong. And even with time, it likely depends on your definition of right and wrong in how you make the call. Aside from the statistics, records and championships the three might compile, what will be revealing is how the three handle the decision that each has made. How they handle their decision will require each to lean on their developing character and not on the rules of the game or rules the league. Because it is the former, not the latter that will cement their reputation with those who love sports and those who love to hate sports.

And that leads to a key nugget, one of twelve reputable principles I am crafting especially for athletes, that I observed from a summer spent watching sports to help pass time until I can go home. Officials can rule the play on the field and leagues can rule off field conduct, but neither can be held accountable for a player’s reputation. A player’s reputation is ultimately accountable to his or her character.

I don’t know Armando Galarraga, but I really admired how he handled an unfortunate call that went against him. Even during the summer in which he missed a perfect game, he has pitched in the majors and in the minors with flashes of brilliance and streaks of mediocrity. Maybe it is that roller coaster ride, unlike the super-stardom status applied to World Cup players and Lebron James, which led to Galarraga’s instinctive response that, “Nobody is perfect.” But while his response resonates well to reflect on his being, it also reminds us that character is more important than the balls and strikes called against us in our daily work.

* There have only been twenty perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball.

RVA


Author’s Note

For the record, I hoped that Lebron James stayed in Cleveland. I believe it would have been a good thing for the city and the Cleveland fans, who likely and generally speaking will remain always faithful to the Cavs, to see Lebron mature as a player, teammate and businessman finding a way to bring a championship, or simply the character of a champion, to the shores of Lake Erie.

What I Learned On Leave

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram, Afghanistan

Like some of the best things learned, this lesson was not planned. When I deployed to Afghanistan in early January, I had no intention to take mid-tour leave (vacation). I wanted to save a year’s worth of accumulated leave so that I would have a six week sabbatical prior to returning to work.

But something magical happened, though, as soon as I landed at Bagram Airfield on March 1^st. I learned that all soldiers deployed to Afghanistan for 270 days or more were authorized fifteen days of non-chargeable leave that would start the day after landing in the United States. So I departed Bagram on May 26^th and landed in Vermont and into my wife’s arms two days later. Thinking back on my twenty-six years of work, I have only had this much consecutive time off once. It was back in 1986 when I took thirty days leave between Ranger school graduation and flying to Korea for my next assignment. At that time, I was single, did not own a house nor own nearly as much responsibility.

What I learned over the next fifteen days is a lesson for life that may be of value to you – especially if you are fully embedded in your career-life balance which makes the thought of a two week vacation a near impossible dream.

The value of a two-week break is immense. Although a two-week vacation is twice the length of a one-week vacation, I believe it offers at least five times the benefit. I feel refreshed, relaxed, recharged and reinvigorated. I never felt this way after only one week of vacation. Experts can likely explain this in better physiological terms than I, but I think it is due to a couple of simple ideas. First, it takes a few days to really unwind and unplug from work. Second, deep relaxation came to me quicker when it occurred to me throughout my first week that I still had more than a week’s vacation left! That realization was a multiplier allowing me to relax and enjoy each day more fully without the usual ‘work creep’ occurring.

Here is my advice and challenge – in the next year, do all you can to take a two week vacation and do all that you can to enable those who work for you to do the same.

There may be more objections than I can tackle here, but I’ll address a few of the quick pop-ups. If you are still uncertain afterwards, take this idea to a trusted friend and get a second opinion.

Objection # 1: My job isn’t like being deployed to Afghanistan.

Maybe. Maybe not. I am forty-seven years old and serve as a primary staff officer to the brigade commander. I work on an airfield that is more like a small city than a combat outpost. I work in a new building and have a nicely furnished office. I have air conditioning. I am awake by 5:30am and work a fifteen-hour day usually getting to bed by 10pm. My day is filled with meetings, briefings, e-mail, making decisions and leading a 100-soldier intelligence section. Truthfully, I feel like a senior executive in a medium-sized company. I go to the gym at lunch and have most of the resources I need. If you work in a white-collar environment with mid-to-senior level executive responsibilities and work over fifty hours per week, our jobs are more similar than you may think. So go ahead, take two weeks off.

Objection # 2: My team or company can’t afford to lose me for two weeks.

We are in the middle of the summer fighting season in Afghanistan and it is likely the most pivotal fighting season since 2002. Bagram Airfield was attacked on May 19th and I took vacation on May 25th. In my absence, our section performed outstandingly and all earned praise from the command group and higher headquarters.

Lose the ego and take vacation – you will be doing more for your organization than you think. I know that I am more valuable to my commander now than I was in the month prior to leave. My head is clearer; I am rested and simply feel more enthusiastic about tackling the complex problems sets (see Puzzles, Rubik's Cube and Brainteasers, posted 6 June 2010) that define Afghanistan. Leaders can instill confidence in their people by turning over the reigns to the person that they should be developing to replace them. If you have made yourself indispensable, you are likely limiting your organization’s growth.

And, if you are at the very top of the organization as an owner, commander or CEO and believe that you cannot be gone for two weeks, think again. Does anyone else in your organization have more people under him or her than you? In five years, no one will reflect back and comment, “If only so and so had not taken that two week vacation back in 2010, we wouldn’t be in this mess today.” So go ahead, take two weeks off.

Objection # 3: I don’t need a two-week vacation.

An extended vacation is not just about you. I’ll bet that you have family members or friends that would really enjoy some extended quality time with you. Deployed soldiers do perhaps learn this better than most people, but don’t miss an only opportunity to create a lasting memory. My kids did not know I was coming home this early and that provided perfect opportunities to surprise them – separately. I thought that I would have to close Elana’s wide-open jaw when she first saw me and I am convinced Connor was nearly in shock as I surprised him at his school’s chapel and he realized that I would be there for his 9^th grade graduation. A few days later, our family together climbed New Hampshire’s Cardigan Mountain and posted the pictures on Facebook to prove it. These memories, plus a lunch in Lake Placid with my mom and brother, are sustaining, and not just for me. So go ahead, take two weeks off.

Deployments have a way of teaching me more lessons than I can predict. This one took about two weeks to learn and is now wisdom for life.

RVA

Dead Bodies, Lies and Broken-Hearted Mothers

By Rick Van Arnam

Returning to Afghanistan

Leaders have a responsibility to think deeply on matters that shape character and chiefly, but not solely, include beliefs, values, and motivators. While this post may at first seem off the topic of leadership and character, it does reflect a single leader’s thinking on these important matters while deployed. The views and opinions are mine and mine alone and should not be interpreted as shared by others with whom I serve or the U. S. Army.

The bloated toes of the foot were curled unnaturally into a tight cringe that made me at first think that I was looking at something you would pay to see at a County Fair. The foot appeared almost unrecognizable to my forty-seven year old eyes that are trained naturally to recognize a normal foot. Attached to the foot was a long, white sinewy cord that was sort of like a well-worn telephone cord that had lost its original shape, but was still functional attaching the handset to the phone – except this cord was detached from the rest of the body and no longer with function.

I’m not medically inclined or trained, but I guessed that the white cord was a tendon that stayed attached to the foot when the suicide bomber self-detonated. The rest of the remains, body pieces and equipment, were scattered on a screen to be photographed and studied as part of an investigation following the 19 May 2010 complex attack on Bagram Airfield.

At some point, though, this dead body – body parts is a more accurate description – had not been an insurgent. He had been born a human being, a son, to a mother. As I looked at the remains of this attacker, somewhere my mind drifted back imagining with certainty that this dead body had once been a young boy – innocent and naïve like any young boy – playing games made up as he ran alongside other boys. I know that moment took place because I have been deployed or lived overseas a few times now and have seen dirt-poor, half-dressed kids play and frolic with smiles worn on their faces.

His mother had been present for some period of his life – I know this to be as close to fact as possible because Afghanistan has one of the world’s highest child mortality rates and kids who reach adulthood can only do so with the help of their mothers, close family or just pure luck (or all of the above). As I studied a picture of a piece from a torn satchel I wondered what her dreams were for her son on the day that she gave birth. I doubt, but could be wrong, that she gazed down her tummy to a crying newborn and smiled knowing that he would some day blow himself to smithereens. I don’t think that thought crossed her mind at that time, but I could be wrong – it is just not a natural thought no matter a person’s beliefs or ideology. I think, but could be wrong, that her heart would break on this day knowing the violent death her son had inflicted on himself. Underneath my military crust, which believes with a cool heart that this is the desired end state of any body committed to killing others who intend to do good, I was near sad-hearted thinking of the loss of human opportunity now scattered to be photographed.

Then I became mad – on two levels.

First, I was mad that in the press this futile attack would quickly pass overshadowed by multiple insurgent attacks on coalition forces in the days and weeks to come. On this day, insurgents tried to inflict mass casualties on Bagram Airfield and failed – miserably. One United States citizen, a young man from North Carolina working as a contractor, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe, in honor, he was the reason more casualties were avoided. When the attackers killed him sitting in the driver’s seat of his vehicle, tower guards were easily alerted and quickly eliminated some of the attackers. The insurgents sent more than twenty attackers to Bagram on that day. Several wore identical suicide vests and most died either by self-detonating or killed by coalition forces. A few more suspected attackers were captured and I estimate that only a few were fortunate to retreat escaping death or capture.

But I was also mad at another level. I was mad that the suicide attackers had been recruited and seduced to believe that their horrific, self-inflicted death was either better than the opportunity of life itself or justified in the name of extreme religious ideology. My reaction to this anger was a desire to photograph the remains, including the bloated foot with the sinewy white tendon attached, and drop millions of these photos on the areas in which suicide bombers are recruited and trained. On the way to believing lies cast as vision, every recruited suicide bomber should have the right to see just how his body will end up.

We do not do that, though, because it is not humane. How ironic is that? That we would not publish, in pictures, the most inhumane way to die because to do so would be inhumane? I suppose we don’t do this out of respect for human life – which includes the respect and compassion for the life of the broken-hearted mother who lost her son to a lie.

In America, there is a common saying that there are only two certainties in life – death and taxes. But having been deployed, I can say that throughout the world only one thing is really certain and that is death. Very few of us will ever have an opportunity to manage a graceful end to our life, this I believe. But no one should be led to embrace a lie cast as vision over which a mother’s heart would break at the site of a body contorted beyond recognition. It is just not right.

RVA

Puzzles, Rubik's Cube and Brainteasers

By Rick Van Arnam

Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan

I grew up in the 1970’s putting together jigsaw puzzles at my grandparent’s house. Even my Great Grandmother Walrath always had a puzzle in progress with pieces scattered across a card table. As kids, my siblings and I would often get a jigsaw puzzle for Christmas. After wearing out or losing enough of the puzzle’s pieces, we would scotch tape its box corners and take it to camp where it likely remains. In the 1980’s, the Rubik’s Cube became the puzzle to own (I never solved it). By the time my kids were born in the mid-1990’s Connie and I started to buy clever travel puzzles for the kids. We actually enjoyed these puzzles more than the kids competing against one another until she consistently beat me and my anger increased to a point that I didn’t even want to kiss her goodnight!

As challenging as those puzzles were to me, I’ve been introduced to much harder puzzles on this deployment with much more at stake than a good night kiss from my wife. The Army even has a name for these puzzles – we call these Complex Problem Sets. For example, a Complex Problem Set could be anything from figuring out who really holds negative or positive sway in a province to looking at poppy eradication as a national strategy in Afghanistan. Complex Problem Sets are characterized by having several factors that cause second, third and fourth order effects. These brain-straining conundrums call out the ongoing need for deft leadership skills grounded in a selflessness that puts others first for a greater good and humility to recognize that one person alone cannot solve these issues.

Today, I sat in a meeting discussing a Complex Problem Set that required our staff to understand many things about many villages that surround us. As I looked across the room and listened to several inputs, it struck me not only how hard we are working to solve this Complex Problem Set, but also how many different areas of expertise and diversity had a chair at the table. As a reminder, I am serving in an Infantry Brigade, but you would not have guessed that by the makeup of those in the meeting or the range of topics of discussed.

In the room where I made this private observation, service members from the Army, Air Force and Navy participated (for good measure, we share a building with Marines). Joining these men and women were civilians from the Department of State, USAID (United States Agency for International Development) and the USDA (United States Department of Agriculture) as well as civilian contractors who study ‘human terrain.’ The organizational diversity was matched by the diversity of individual expertise. For example, there were Army Civil Affairs’ personnel who were experts on public health and from one I learned that three factors – dirty water, upper respiratory disease and malnutrition – contribute to eighty percent of the public health issues in Afghanistan. Contributing to the challenge of the Complex Problem Set is the overarching chemistry challenge brought on by a melting pot of organizational cultures, competing priorities and individual personalities.

Trying to select one leadership skill or character trait on which success hinges is like trying to find a single solution to “solve” Afghanistan – or for that matter, figuring out how to turn around GM, fix healthcare or balance a university’s budget in the wake of plunging endowment values. From my observation, success in solving Complex Problem Sets requires a holistic and patient approach; this same attitude can be applied to leadership and character development if we want to experience similar success at solving the Complex Problem Sets that occupy our future conference rooms.

Humility, for example, is a character attribute brought into view by recognizing that a single person cannot solve these problems. It takes a room full of input just to draft a plan in order to positively impact results. One person cannot be smarter than the collective wisdom that gathers to figure out Complex Problem Sets. Big problems don’t require big egos, but instead, big humility that enables brainstorming over singularly directed answers or the will to take a new position after further thought or admitting that a third or fourth order effect had not been considered.

Working through a Complex Problems Set is not always enjoyable. But like the brainteaser we returned to as a kid, the challenge and opportunity to get something important right draws out the leadership and character in people.

RVA