Launch Jets

I think that I am an incurable romantic. Let me hasten to add that I mean romantic in the literary sense of the word. In the literary sense, a romantic is one who creates stories about the world. How that works out in my life is that I have a metaphor, or a story, for everything.

That serves as the platform for this day's post. As background to the topic, our company, ForeRunner, is committed to the idea of being a good place to work. This isn't an easy commitment. Once you get past the idea of month long vacations and four hour work weeks, the idea of what constitutes a good place to work means different things to different people. We are very concerned about what ForeRunner employees think about working here and work to find out. The results we get are certainly not always what we want to hear, and responding to the issues raised is thorny and often without any ability to solve those issues.

As one who has spent his adult working life in and around engineering companies, I have often thought an interesting way to see them is as aircraft carriers. They are full of highly trained people engaged in complex tasks requiring a high degree of teamwork. To carry out their job, the people on board must be committed to precision and smooth operation of sequential and interdependent tasks, which if not done "right" have serious consequences.

Yet there are two different classes of people on board that aircraft carrier. There are the pilots and there are the crew. Together they are a team, but the pilots experience a very different reality than those who stay on the boat. The glamour of "Top Gun" and Tom Cruise aside, carrier pilots live in a different reality. Their commitment is a different commitment than that of those who stay behind.

In an engineering company, it is a useful distinction to distinguish between those who go out to the job site and those who do not. We are all a team, and equally important to the ability of the company to perform our mission. But those of us who go out to the job site experience a different reality than those who stay behind.

In my teen years, I often daydreamed about piloting a Phantom over North Vietnam, imagining the sudden klaxon alert of a SAM launch or the flash of light signaling a MIG intercept. But very poor eyesight meant that it would always be a daydream for me. But those who were privileged to fly had a very different reality than the team back on the carrier whose work and effort allowed them to be in that position.

Too many times to count, I have driven a rental vehicle onto a job site in some remote area, or walked into a conference room filled with client personnel. Every time I did it, my body reacted. I am not sure if my heart could have beaten any faster or my stomach been more full of butterfly's if I had been in that Phantom. My reality of that project was much different than the draftsmen and engineers back in the office who also worked on those projects.

We live in the reality we experience. A good place to work is defined by the reality we experience. If we work in an office, a good place to work is often defined by the length of our commute, being able to work from home or having control over the work we do and how we do it. Professional decorum and reasonable expectations about timeliness are a given.

If we are in the "cockpit", we experience a different reality. We are lonely, in a hostile location and experiencing severe emotional upheaval. Then a good place to work is calling in and hearing a friendly voice that picks up the phone on the first ring. It is hearing that wonderful phrase, "I'll take care of it right away". Sometimes when we come back we are jumpy and might need a drink. Some of us might even kick our dog if they bark too much.

We are a company that contains both realities. We will continue to do our best to be a good company to work for. But mutual understanding and respect go a long way to bridge different realities. It is a foolish pilot who doesn't respect his deck crew. Most crews will cut the pilot some slack when they see his hand shaking.

But I would invite you to climb into that cockpit. Unlike the Navy, the qualifications to move into that launch position are minimal. Most anyone on that project team can work their way into the cockpit. All you have to have is that desire to strap in.

Once you launch off that deck, you will not want to be anywhere else ever again.