Into the Storm

by Dennis N. t. Perkins

  The core principles specified in The Leader's Checklist are generally applicable to any leadership situation. But Useem goes one step further, explaining how the checklist can be tailored to account for the specific challenges faced by an individual leader.5

  I have found that the process of creating a Team Checklist can, in itself, be an important tool for team development. As we prepared to write this book, our team sat down to plan the mission. We systematically outlined our goals and aspirations. Laura Gardner, our “Pit Man” made a Countdown Calendar and taped it to the wall of the conference room. We embellished the calendar with photos of the Midnight Rambler and—as a final touch—we added a picture of Indiana Jones running from a giant boulder. Laura taped Indiana right next to the deadline for the manuscript.

  We then outlined team and individual responsibilities, thinking through—as thoroughly as we could—everything that needed to be done to complete the book. With an eye toward removing all excuses for failure, we also took into account everything that could go wrong in our planning process.

  At one point, we added a simple checklist using a format borrowed from the military: the Five Paragraph Order. Using the S-M-E-A-C template, we reviewed the equivalents of our:

  1. Situation: Enemy forces, friendly forces, adjacent units, and supporting units

  2. Mission: Goal of the operation

  3. Execution: How we will accomplish the mission

  4. Administration and Logistics: Food, ammunition, batteries, and POWs

  5. Command and Signal: Radio frequencies and emergency signals

  Tailoring the operation order to our situation called for some creative juggling with metaphor. But we had fun and, in the process, created our own Team Checklist.

  Keep preparing while you're racing

  I recently observed a large manufacturing firm go through the process of a major organizational restructuring. The company had experienced significant financial losses, and the CEO believed that the new design would help the company become more competitive and cost-effective.

  The head of human resources decided to keep the new structure a closely held secret until it was publicly announced. His reasoning was that there was no need to create unnecessary anxiety. But the secrecy policy meant that a number of significant players in the organization would be given no warning. They would simply wake up one morning to find themselves reporting to a new boss, in a completely new organizational structure.

  When concerns were raised about the impact of the surprise, the HR leader had little sympathy for those affected. His view was that anyone caught off guard needed to act like a “grown-up” and get with the program. There was work to be done.

  For those who had expressed concern, it came as no surprise that the preemptive change created shock waves throughout the organization. Although people were expected to calmly and logically endorse the new structure, they didn't always act like the grown-ups they were expected to be. They acted like anyone whose work life and future prospects had been unexpectedly disrupted. They reacted with anger, anxiety, and—frequently—resentment.

  On a sailboat, wind shifts or other events frequently require a change in direction. Because of the potential problems that can occur when sailors are caught off guard, there is a standard protocol for making sure everyone knows what is happening. This well-established process is described in his classic sailing book, The Annapolis Book of Seamanship, by John Rousmaniere.6

  Rousmaniere outlines the sequence for tacking—that is, changing course—very clearly.

  It's important that the skipper and crew communicate clearly during a tack. Here are the orders and responses they should use:

  STEERER: “Ready about” or “Stand by to tack.”

  CREW: “Ready” (when everything has been prepared for the maneuver).

  STEERER: “Hard a-lee” or “Helm's c-lee” (indicating that the tiller or wheel has been turned and that the sail will swing to the other side of the boat).

  In a light breeze, the tacking maneuver might be accomplished without proper preparation. Lines might be snarled and there could be confusion, but usually no one would get hurt. In heavy weather, however, this same maneuver might well mean that an unprepared crew member could be caught off guard, smashed in the head, and knocked over the side unconscious.

  The easiest way to avoid accidents, and to make sure that the boat quickly and efficiently moves to the new course, is to use the protocol—to give people a warning with the simple phrase: Ready about. This enables the crew to prepare physically and psychologically for the new course.

  The HR team in the manufacturing organization knew that they were going to be heading on a new course. They knew exactly when the public announcements were going to occur, and they understood the implications for their jobs. But they were astonished to find that crew members on their metaphorical vessel were angry when the boat abruptly swung to a new course. They didn't understand the importance of preparing both the boat and the crew.

  AFR Midnight Rambler has other systems in place for planning and preparation. While Ed Psaltis is focused on steering, others are thinking about the sea conditions and sail requirements for the next leg of the race. And their ability to look ahead was critical to their success in the ’98 storm.

  The wave spotter did much more than protect the steerer from the onslaught of the weather. He also ensured that the boat would be ready for the next big wave. At the height of a violent storm, maneuvering a boat through one monster wave after another requires incredible focus. That requirement creates a dangerous dilemma: The singular focus means that the helmsman may see only the waves directly in front of the boat, while losing sight of what lies ahead.

  Teams in organizations that are navigating through a crisis run similar risks. They face the danger of solving imminent problems in ways that eliminate long-term opportunities. Successful teams master the art of bifocal vision: They have the ability to focus on current challenges while, at the same time, preparing for longer-term threats and opportunities.

  After watching a presentation of the AFR Midnight Rambler story, one of our clients developed a wave spotter system designed to help their team focus on the next wave challenge—while never losing sight of the one behind it. They are preparing and racing at the same time.

  Polish the stove

  Sailors getting ready to do the Hobart understand that it makes sense to prepare for the worst. But I was somewhat surprised when the skipper of my boat, Goldy, turned to one of the watch captains and asked, “Do we have enough morphine?” The last time I had heard that question asked was in the Marine Corps.

  I was also struck by the various checklists posted on the inside of the cabin: Man down Procedure—Unconscious or Severely Injured, Helicopter Transfer, and Recovery from Capsize. I first wondered if perhaps things had gone too far when I read the protocol for Piracy Attack (Do not fight back once they are on board). But on reflection, I couldn't see any harm in being ready for anything and everything.

  What stood out for me was the extent to which crews prepare for the worst, yet also pay attention to the small things. The stove that Gordon Livingstone polished on the Rambler was not a critical part of equipment for either racing or survival. Yet it was important, because it symbolized the extent of their careful preparation and helped instill a sense of confidence on the part of the crew. The Ramblers knew that everything on the boat was as shipshape as it could possibly be. And the stove had another effect as well. Competitors who see the stove being polished have absolutely no doubt about the intensity of the Ramblers’ desire to win.

  Teams facing challenges need to prepare for every contingency, and they need to think about the big things. But they also need to be aware of the small things that symbolize careful preparation. They need to send a clear message that they intend to win and that they are willing to polish the stove.

  Plan and prepare but be flexible when things change

  Joe Louis, one of the greatest heavyweigh
t boxers of all time, famously remarked, “Everyone has a plan until they've been hit.” While planning and preparation are important, not everything can be anticipated—especially at The Edge.

  This point was brought home to me by General Richard Natonski, who was Commanding General of the 1st Marine Division during Operation Iraqi Freedom II. He was responsible for leading more than 30,000 Marines, soldiers, sailors, airmen, and coalition forces in a highly stressful combat operation.6

  In the fall of 2004, General Natonski was given the mission of preparing for a second assault on the city of Fallujah. An earlier attempt had come to a premature halt, and by September of 2004 the city had grown into a sanctuary for insurgents who launched attacks in Baghdad and elsewhere—returning to Fallujah to rest, rearm, and plan their next round of attacks.

  With the Iraqi election for a transitional National Assembly scheduled for January 2005, it was imperative that the city be liberated from the insurgency. Planning for the operation was extensive. The Marines built what would later be called an Iron Mountain of supplies including food, fuel, ammunition, and spare parts. The mountain of supplies was designed to allow the attack on Fallujah to proceed in spite of expected enemy attacks on the Marines’ supply lines.

  Several days into the assault, things were not going as expected. The resistance in the eastern part of the city had been much stronger than anticipated. Despite weeks of planning, war gaming, and coordination between attack forces, the assault had been slowed. General Natonski summarized the situation with a comment reminiscent of Joe Louis: “Plans very seldom survive their first contact with the enemy. Fallujah was no different.”

  During the planning phase of the operation, General Natonski's Operations Officer—Lieutenant Colonel Joseph L'Etoile and his planning team—had developed an alternate contingency plan. This Branch Plan would have the effect of extending the boundaries into the southern portion of the city between two attacking regiments. If necessary, the responsibilities of the unit in heaviest contact with the insurgents could be adjusted. To succeed, however, this change in the attack plan would require clear communication and coordination with large numbers of troops engaged in fierce combat.

  While the attack continued, all units were briefed on the new plan. At 7 p.m. on the third day of the battle, the assault shifted smoothly to the new plan. The ability of the attacking units to adjust on the fly was, as General Natonski saw it, similar to a football team's ability to change plays when the quarterback “calls an audible” at the line of scrimmage.

  The shift in attack plan worked, and General Natonski's forces successfully secured Fallujah. The city was cleared of insurgents, Al Qaeda retreated, and peace and security were restored to its citizens.8 In our discussions of leadership and teamwork, General Natonski encouraged me to keep in mind a corollary to careful preparation: “Plan and prepare, but be flexible when things change.” He captures the spirit of the concept with the term Semper Gumby.

  This tongue-in-cheek expression combines the Marine Corps motto of Semper Fidelis, Always Faithful, with the character Gumby—a clay figure that can be twisted in many directions. For the Marines, Semper Gumby, or Always Flexible, gained the victory on the battlefield. It is a valuable concept for any team facing challenges at The Edge.

  Navigation Points

  1. Do you use Team Checklists to help keep track of critical tasks and Mission Critical Principles?

  2. Does your team keep preparing while you're racing? Are you able to prepare for the next assignment while you're completing the current one?

  3. Do you polish the stove by ensuring that even small symbolic tasks are completed?

  4. Do you have wave spotters on the lookout for new or unexpected challenges?

  5. Are you able to shift smoothly to a new plan if the one you prepared for isn't working? Can you be flexible with a Semper Gumby approach to preparation?

  33

  Balanced Optimism

  Strategy #3

  Find and focus on the winning scenario.

  Over the course of a long race, sailors will inevitably encounter setbacks. In an instant, a boat can go from leading the fleet to lagging behind. A major reversal can easily discourage the crew and, left unchecked, can deplete the crew's energy. Worse yet, this weakened performance can quickly turn into a downward spiral. As Ed Psaltis notes:

  The issue of optimism is a critical aspect of the Hobart race. As in any sporting endeavor, people get tired—both physically and mentally. If you haven't got that spark—something to aim for, some good news to keep in the back of your mind—the team can get demoralized very quickly. When that happens we're not performing at our best.

  You have to stay embedded in reality, but I try to keep a positive outlook, because that keeps the crew going when they're cold and hungry and tired. We won't win every race, but if we've got a chance of beating our arch rival, we'll keep at it.1

  Tactics for Teamwork at The Edge

  Be absolutely clear about what it means to win

  Every crew in the Sydney to Hobart Race would like to be declared the overall race winner—to take home the Tattersall's trophy. Any boat in the starting fleet is in direct competition with every other boat that sails out of Sydney Harbour. And because of the handicap system, every boat has a theoretical chance of winning.

  In practice, not every boat is in serious competition for the Tattersall's Cup. Not every crew is willing to commit to the rigorous training, hard work, and physical rigors and discipline it takes to become a truly competitive boat. Some teams see sailing largely as a social event—albeit one that involves sailing hundreds of miles through potentially dangerous water—to enjoy “a quiet little drink” in Hobart at the end of the race.

  A team that aspires to triumph at The Edge needs to first decide what it means to win. If the goal is winning the Hobart and taking home the Tattersall's trophy—literally or metaphorically—then the team can align around that goal. Alternatively, a team might choose to try to be first in their division—roughly equivalent to competing with teams and organizations of their own size. And if the goal is purely to enjoy the mateship of the journey, then the challenge is defined differently. The only requirement is that the crew complete the race safely and without injury.

  An American boat named Rosebud won the Tattersall's Cup in 2007. It had been thirty years since an American entry had been declared overall winner, and it was only the third U.S. boat to win in the sixty-three-year history of the race.

  Rosebud has won a number of major ocean races in addition to the Hobart—including the Newport to Bermuda and the Transpacific from Los Angeles to Hawaii. I spoke about the secret of Rosebud's success with Malcolm Park, a watch captain who played a key role in the boat's design. Park was filled with ideas about winning races:

  For me, the most important thing in building a winning team is that everyone has the same vision of what the team goals are. It's not enough to say I want to win. We all want to win. That doesn't cut it. The question is, what do you want to win? Do you want to win ocean races? Do you want to win buoy races? Do you want to travel internationally? Do you want to stay locally? In our case, there is more than the result we are looking to achieve in specific ocean races like the Hobart Race. It wasn't enough simply to build a boat that would be successful. We wanted to build a class of boats that others would have an interest in.2

  To find and focus on a winning scenario, the first step is to define winning. Only then will the team have a clear shared understanding of their race. With that awareness, the team can plan a strategy for taking home their trophy.

  Find a winning scenario

  I was once called in to help a senior executive team that was mired in problems. The CEO had strained relations with many members of the team, and a feedback report—consisting of anonymous verbatim comments—painted an extremely grim picture.

  There were historical conflicts between key team members. The executives felt isolated from the leadership of their parent comp
any. Some were fatigued, feeling that no matter how well they performed they would always be asked to do more. And there were numerous comments from people who did not feel like they were part of a winning team—they felt like losers.

  The level of frustration and sense of hopelessness were more profound than I had ever seen with any senior team. After reading one negative comment after another, I started to get depressed myself. But the paradox was that the team members seemed to have all the ingredients needed to succeed. Individually, many were exceptional. There were some obvious problems that they knew how to solve. They had the potential to become a great team. But they weren't winning.

  As part of a two-day team off-site meeting, I shared the story of the Midnight Rambler. I described how the crew was always able to identify a scenario by which they could be successful. The scenario didn't necessarily result in their being declared overall winners in any particular race. It could be a scenario by which they could win a bigger contest—for example, the Blue Water Point Score series. And it could even mean finishing the race at the end of the pack with the jury-rigged sail, as they did in the ’94 Hobart.

  The Ramblers’ winning scenario didn't even have to be the most likely series of events. This was not about oddsmakers handicapping a horse race or about pundits predicting election results. It was not about using Bayesian statistics in a decision tree to find an option with the highest expected value. It was about giving the crew a reason to fight: a reason to believe that there was a way they could win the race on their own terms and—because of that possibility—to do everything they could to make the boat sail as quickly as possible.