"I'd Rather Be Flying": The Ethos of the Air Force Officer Corps

Aerospace Power Journal, Summer, 2001 by Tom Hall

COL TOM HALL [*]

THE AIR FORGE is very concerned about what it is and who it is. With about 68,000 officers on active duty alone--and those men and women comprising several generations--it is difficult for the institution as a whole to agree on anything. In fact, most readers of this article would be hard pressed to quickly articulate a cogent and mature description of the Air Force ethos; more importantly, it would probably not agree with many other readers' responses. Much of the ethos-identity problem is generational. Many young officers were adolescents--some hadn't even been born--when today's senior officers entered the service. The Air Force's senior leaders are investing time and effort in studying the issue and have seen valuable works produced, such as the late Carl H. Builder's The Icarus Syndrome: The Role of Air Power Theory in the Evolution and Fate of the US. Air Force (1994). Such books and other exhaustive studies aside, perhaps the simple, familiar bumper-sticker slogan I'd rather be flying can illustrate an important point about this situation. It will show that we need to pay close attention to a bold-faced warning about our institutional ethos if we are to remain the world's best air force.

Most officers can agree on certain qualities. For starters, we believe in the core values--integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all we do. We're also patriotic: "duty, honor, country" means something to us. We're mission oriented: each of us would rather be flying or doing our particular specialty. In the same way, we have a low tolerance for what we perceive to be excessive or needless paperwork or anything else that appears unessential to the mission. We're proud to be part of the military profession, and we respect civilian control. We value bravery, like to think of ourselves as warriors, and are wary of whatever might dull our war-fighting skills. We believe in the military family that embraces equal opportunity; we take care of our people, and we help them reach their full potential. We don't believe in diversity just because it's politically correct but because it's right and necessary to accomplish the mission. Moreover, we believe in pushing responsibility to the lowest level and use a collegial leadership style that says the "door is always open." We totally buy into the phrase "an officer and a gentleman" and hate screamers. We reject any kind of harassment, discrimination, or mistreatment. Our work ethic is strong, and we believe that if we work hard enough, there is nothing we can't do.

In addition, few organizations in the world have better leaders, dedicated to their service and convinced of the talent of its youth. With all these positives, how could we go wrong? Clearly, we have much in our ethos to be proud of, but dangerous tensions lurk just below the surface. To be fair, perhaps we can do better.

I'd rather be flying captures the tension of mission versus people. We can't put the mission first without asking people to make sacrifices. For junior officers, this is the most difficult part of our ethos. Baby boomers, like their parents, see no problem telling the troops to take care of their families, yet they work nights and weekends themselves. Their desire for troops to balance their personal and professional lives is sincere, but our leaders fail to say, "We have enough type-A people like us willing to put in the long hours. We admire your desire for balance--just don't expect to get promoted." Our junior officers have called us on this one. They really believe in balance and don't hesitate to question the "can-do/no-problem attitude," which they believe stands in direct contradiction to senior leaders' public statements about readiness and strategy. Junior officers resent being called complainers or being told they lack the warrior ethos just because they might question the necessity of missions th at appear to have no end in sight.

I'd rather be flying also refers to the tension between doing the primary job and "just filling out paperwork" or performing other bureaucratic necessities. Here, our attitude hurts us in profound ways. A squadron commander at Squadron Officer School who has informally polled captains for over two years on performance feedback has found that half of the junior officers polled report they never received performance feedback. Many Air War College students, asked whether they believed this, agreed that it reflected their experience as well. Even more surprising was the reaction of some young officers who inferred that, because nobody has time to do feedback, it must somehow be acceptable that few do it. If this is true, we must consider the implications. Not only does this fly in the face of the "integrity first" core value (since signatures on the officer performance report attest to the date on which the evaluating officer provided written feedback), but also it makes a huge statement about priorities.

Our moral courage is on the line. Feedback is just one opportunity to look people straight in the eye and tell them the truth about themselves. At a time when junior officers say they lack faith in their leaders and when we have problems with recruiting and retention, how can we afford to miss this opportunity to speak frankly--one-on-one--about the issues affecting them? The ethical concern about simple honesty is one thing, but the other is that this situation most likely stems from contrasting perceptions. To the subordinate, a one-minute "you are doing fine; sign this" session is not feedback. To the busy supervisor who truly believes his or her troop is doing a great job, that one-minute session is feedback. The bottom-line impression on the subordinate, however, is that supervisors would rather be flying than leading.