We're getting out of the Marines because we wanted to be part of an elite force

During the summer, the Best Defense is in
re-runs. Here are some favorites that ran in late 2012 and in 2013. This item originally
ran on Jan. 4, 2013.

By "yet another Marine LT"

Best Defense department of the JO exodus

Why are
we getting out? It's about the low standards.

We
joined because we wanted to be part of an elite organization dedicated to doing
amazing things in defense of our nation. We wanted to make a contribution to
something great, to be able to look back at a decisive chapter in American
history and say "yeah, I was part of that." We joined the Corps because if we
were going in to the fight, we wanted to serve with the best. We wanted the
kind of job that would make our friends who took soulless, high-paying
corporate jobs feel pangs of jealousy because we went to work every day with a
purpose.

It
causes a deep, bitter pain to acknowledge that I don't think this is the
organization in which I currently serve. The reason we're getting out is
because the Marine Corps imposes a high degree of stress, yet accepts Mission
Failure so long as all the boxes on the list are checked.

I'm
talking about the Field Grade Intelligence Officer in Afghanistan who didn't
know who Mullah Omar was. I'm talking about a senior Staff NCO in the
intelligence community who could not produce a legible paragraph. I'm talking
about a Battalion Commander who took pride in the fact that he had done zero
research on Afghanistan, because it allowed him to approach his deployment with
"an open mind." I'm talking about contractors, some of whom were literally paid
ten-fold the salary of my junior Marines, who were incapable of performing
basic tasks and functionally illiterate. The problem is not so much that these
individuals pop up every now and then, as every organization has its bad eggs,
but rather that we see them passed on through the system, promoted and
rewarded. If we are truly the elite
organization we claim to be, how do we justify the fact that we allow these
individuals to retain positions of immense influence, much less promote through
the ranks? How do we justify this endemic tolerance for mediocrity or
outright incompetence?

If you
really want to know what an institution values, don't look at its mottos or
mission statements. Look at how it spends its resources, especially its human
capital. Economists call this "Revealed Preference."  When I was in the midst of a time-critical
project aimed at mapping insurgent networks in Helmand, I was told to put the
project on hiatus so I could organize a visit from General Allen. The implicit
message was that a smooth itinerary and content General were more important
than catching an insurgent cell before they left for Pakistan. How else was I
supposed to interpret this? In my opinion, it's not so much that the Marine
Corps doesn't value ideas, but that -- when the chips are down and careers are
at stake -- it values appearance and conformity more than winning. The implicit
message -- what the Marine Corps reveals by its actions -- is that it's okay to
fail to provide any added value, so long as the PowerPoint slides are free of
typos, no serialized gear is lost, and everyone attends the Sexual Harassment
Prevention training

The
biggest issue is that few are willing to acknowledge Mission Failure because
doing so is considered "unprofessional," especially for a lieutenant. As an
Army Special Forces veteran I worked with was fond of saying, "you get what you
incentivize." As it currently stands, there is an overwhelming incentive for
officers at all levels to simply keep their units looking sharp, turn in rosy,
optimistic assessments, keep off the XO's radar and, above all else, keep from
rocking the boat. No matter what becomes of your battlespace, eventually the
deployment will end and you can go home. Why risk casualties, a tongue lashing
or missed PT time when the reward might not come for years down the road? Why
point out that the emperor has no clothes when everyone one involved is going
to get their Navy Comms and Bronze Stars if we just let him keep on walking
down the road.

We
should be better than this. I have found several of the comments and reviews of
your latest book baffling. We can quibble about the merits of Marshall's
management techniques or the specific metrics by which we should measure
officer performance. But can't we unanimously agree that sub-par commanders
should be weeded out, especially in an organization that calls itself "the
finest fighting force on the face of the earth?" The practice of actively
relieving (and eventually separating) leaders for under-performance is no
panacea, but shouldn't it at least be a starting point?

I don't
want to be misunderstood. The most
extraordinary and talented people I've ever met are still serving in the Corps.
I live in a wonderful area, I'm well-paid and generally like the people I work
with. Given the chance, I would happily deploy again. But looking down the road
at what the billet of a Field Grade officer entails, I have to wonder whether
the sacrifices will be worth it. Maybe they will. I've seen some Field Grade
officers who love their jobs and feel like they're serving a purpose. But I'm
not sure I'm willing to take the gamble.

I was told at The Basic School that the most
important role as a leader is to say, when everyone is tired and ready to
declare victory and just go home, "guys, this isn't good enough, we have to do
better." I simply don't see enough leaders willing to say, regarding the things
that really matter, "guys, the last
eleven years weren't good enough, the nation needs us to do better."