NOTES FROM A ROOM WITHOUT WINDOWS

They are us.

Unlike my last three rather polemic stacks (if that is what they are called), I have decided to take a more harmonious literary path this time. I want to tell you, dear reader, of a small anecdote from a few years ago. A time of gainful employment as a contractor with the Australian Department of Defence.

I was commuting between Melbourne and Canberra, mainly working on unclassified topics, but one area did require greater security (no, it’s not as exciting as it sounds). Canberra did not cause any difficulties, but working in Melbourne could have been even more challenging. Fortunately, a small cell in the Defence procurement agency gave me a desk for occasional use.

Once I navigated the floor refurbishments, I found the office. A small, dedicated team were working on protection for operations in Afghanistan. Having some knowledge (although long outdated) of such things, I was able to learn a bit about what was going on and discuss things in general terms with the team.

It was mainly a public sector team (with quite a few retired service people), and one bright young engineer Major. Fairly standard structure in such organisations. He spoke well of having served under the command of one of my classmates (which was expected but still pleasing), and still had that refreshing fire and enthusiasm for service. He was also very adept technically, embarrassingly better than I could have ever been.

So, after a few weeks of popping in and out, he turns to me and asks for some advice. He is preparing a brief for his capability bosses in Canberra, but there is a problem.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“They are asking the wrong question,’ he replies, “It won’t fix the problem, I just want to give them the right answer and ignore the question.”

We discuss the pros and cons, as well as the nature of the Canberra office (for those who know, it is located in Russell). It is apparent they were in the “Don’t tell me sunshine, I know boats” category of senior offices, not as uncommon as you would like.

So, I proposed the following solution. Give them what they want in the brief. Answer the question. But then add, ‘you may also wish to consider the following as well.’ In that context, you highlight the vulnerabilities and weaknesses of the initial request and offer them a way out of a trap they have created for themselves. That way, no egos are bruised, and you have done your duty.

I returned to the secure cloister a week later and asked him how it went. This time, it was a successful approach. He then asked me another question.

“Why do they behave so differently? They were just focused on the wrong things. They must know deep down?” He asked.

My response, “They are us.”

We then discussed that Russell Offices is a different environment (even building to building and floor to floor), and to achieve anything, you must adapt. However, as I highlighted to him, adaptation is very different from assimilation. It is a place where process masks accountability and potentially can make tangible outcomes alarmingly protracted.

Or as M.L. Cavanaugh puts it (of the Pentagon), ‘It’s the system, one in which the three horsemen of meritocracy’s apocalypse (bureaucracy, rankism, and personal bias) roam free, mostly at night.’ Interestingly, the latest Australian Defence Force leadership publication denies this (maybe another Substack one day).

It is a bureaucracy, and modern societies and defence forces cannot operate without such. The solution, which I have seen many senior leaders and others inside the ‘the system,’ is to stay true to oneself and understand where you are. I found that shortcuts invariably weren’t, and you could find some directive or regulation that could be leveraged to generate some speed. I saw many trying to game the system or worse, take on the mantle of a ‘rebel,’ both of which usually ended in tears, with peer professional reputations in tatters (not that some of them cared; it was the Trumpian, ‘it’s about me.’).

Since that pleasant and small victory, I have read a lot of organisational psychology and even scraped across some post-modern sociology. It’s heavy stuff, but it tells you one thing. Raging against the office machine won’t fix it, but neither will kneeling before it.

It was nice to know that I was able to navigate someone through the shoals at least once. Maybe having run aground a few times, I had learnt something. So, now during a quiet time, or on a stroll to the shops. I recall this small adventure in a windowless room. I can still draw many lessons from it and muse about them. But best of all, it brings a quiet smile. I hope you find some insight and maybe a wry smile as well.