SECDEF AS CEO? BAD MODEL

In the matter of the Generals versus Donald Rumsfeld, one of the defenses offered on behalf of Mr. Rumsfeld is that he is simply operating as a tough CEO, sharply challenging subordinates and closely questioning the accepted way of doing things. The assumption behind this defense is that the CEO model is an appropriate one for the Secretary of Defense, often referred to by Pentagon insiders as the SECDEF.

But is the CEO model an appropriate one for the SECDEF? After all, having a CEO, a Chief Executive Officer, does not guarantee a company success. Enron had a CEO. General Motors has a CEO. Yet the former ended up in bankruptcy and the latter is desperately trying to avoid that fate. Companies with CEOs fail every year. And in many cases, the argument can be made that the CEOs bear a large share of the responsibility.

The CEO model might well be one of those American inventions that has morphed to the negative side of the social, economic, and political ledger. At the extreme, or maybe not so extreme, the CEO has become a grossly overcompensated prima donna who rules by fear and fiat. Subordinates are not rewarded for individual initiative and intellectual vigor but for their ability to anticipate the thinking and wishes of the great man or woman. If the thinking and wishes of the great man or woman are flawed, the prevailing culture of group think prevents corrective action, or even hinders realization that a problem exists.

Yet the CEO model does not always punish CEO failure. A company can be less than successful or even fail, but the CEO does not necessarily go down with the ship. The upper echelons of the American corporate world constitute an elite club that can be very protective of its members. Much can be forgiven, including such minor matters as an overbearing, arrogant attitude toward subordinates.

So what happens when the CEO model is transported to the public sector, particularly to a monstrous entity, the Department of Defense, with a fundamental overall mission—the protection of the nation—that requires the determination of a number of difficult-to-quantify implementing efforts?

Compared to the task of national defense, the task of business is simplicity personified. In business, success is measured by profits. And many times, profits are created or enhanced by cutting costs. The cutting of costs can be a cold-hearted endeavor. Attention to detail and the ability to blot out from one’s mind the effects on employees are often attributes of the successful cost cutter.

In the struggle for success in the private sector, in the search for profits, what businesses do is provide products and services. A pill, a cell phone, a will, a tank of gas, a television program, an advertisement: these are things people or companies pay for.

Donald Rumsfeld has led a varied life, holding high positions in both the public and private sectors. In the private sector, he has been CEO of a pharmaceutical company, G.D. Searle and Company, and a technology company, General Instrument Corporation. In both instances, his companies were considered, in terms of profits, successful. His companies provided goods or services that people paid for.

As a wartime Secretary of Defense, Rumsfeld has faced a much more daunting task than profitably providing a good or service. Yet by many accounts, he has brought a profitability mindset to the effort. Tremendously complicating the situation is the type of subordinate he has encountered in the Defense Department.

A stereotype exits of a military man or woman who lacks the ability or willingness to think independently. The stereotype exists by exception only. The upper reaches of the military have a high percentage of individuals with intelligence, advanced education, initiative, and a record of accomplishment. Contributing to the intellectual ferment is the constant movement of individuals from assignment to assignment. The military is certainly not perfect, but compared with many mature companies in corporate America, and with many government agencies, it is a place of energy and enthusiasm.

If Rumsfeld did indeed bring the CEO model to the job of Secretary of Defense, the events of September 11, 2001, made him a man in the wrong place at the wrong time. No longer was he merely presiding over reorganizations or transformations. No longer was cost-cutting the main event. No longer was the interaction with and treatment of subordinates a minor matter. No longer was understanding there were things he did not know unimportant.

Four decades ago, another star of corporate America, Robert McNamara, slid into one of the most challenging and frightening of positions: being a wartime leader in a prolonged war. He also was not successful. He also did not appear to understand there were things he did not know. And he also seemed to approach the messy, nasty business of war as simple matter analogous to selling, say, toothpaste.

In peacetime, when the focuses are on controlling costs, on budgetary procedures, on PowerPoint presentations, on proper protocol, the CEO model for the Secretary of Defense might be acceptable. In wartime, the nation needs better.

DSH