OSB/ESERB: A tool for professionalization?

Good topic,

After much reflection, I can see the issue of opening up restricted files and the abuse of subjective evaluation of said files. I know of a few entries for restricted files, 2LT/1LT OERs, company/field grade and GOMORs during the same rank periods, etc. However, I think that there are certain violations that if chosen to be masked, should be immediate fair game for dismissal during a separation board, DUI, Sexual Assault and "Validated and Convicted" Domestic Abuse. I used quotes for "validated and convicted" because I've seen cases where a spouse has abused the spirit of that violations with false accusations that are later learned to be baseless and unfounded. I know of an officer who was forced to retire as a result of a false accusation that was substantiated by a court acquittal, but due to the mere accusation, was flagged and forced to retire. Upsets me every time I think about it, but I digress.

If you have bad reports as a 2LT/1LT, or you made a training mistake i.e. lead a convoy down a wrong route and was reprimanded for it, if those issues are reflected in the restricted file, then we would hope that the separation board personnel will take additional time to look at all of the circumstances surrounding those infractions and either come to the same conclusion to retain the officer as the leadership, who chose to place said infraction in the restricted file, concluded.

I do have a recommendation as to how we can overcome the potential ambiguity of restricted files that separation boards face when looking at officer files. I think there should be certain infractions that should NOT be placed in a restricted file, they were mentioned above along with any similar egregious violation. If leaders know going in that if their subordinates commit these type of violations and they are not allowed to place those violations in the restricted files, then it would go a long in helping separation and promotion boards know exactly who they are separating or promoting for that matter and it may also prevent separation boards from spending too much time on restricted files. For example, they can glance at restricted files to ensure that no one has entered the "mandated viewable violations" in an attempt to insulate an officer and move on from there.

This way, if an officer decides to voice his opinion on FB or Rallypoint :) that disparages another officer or elected official and receives a GOMOR or an Article 15 for conducting unbecoming an officer as a result, that violation can be placed in the restricted file (at the discretion of the leadership, of course) and allow that officer to rehabilitate and move on with his career. For this type of violation, though can be argued as "non-restricted file worthy", is a violation, in my opinion, that one can come back from.

On a related note, from John Q. Public, the problems with a zero defect mentality.

http://www.jqpublic-blog.com/general-reportedly-disparages-fellow-officer-teachable-moment-mistakes-character/

"Part 2. The Meaning of Mistakes.

General Brown’s mistake ironically reinforced the rise of a mistake-free culture in the United States Air Force. Unchecked, this culture will compromise national defense.

Craig Perry, if the most damning version of his conduct is to be believed, made a couple of very minor mistakes. He was a participative and involved leader, and his genuineness triggered a few negative perceptions. He may have misunderstood the intent of his immediate supervisor in a few areas, which was not surprising given that she was known to be a poor communicator. But even if this version is accurate, it didn’t need to be the end of the line for Perry. Nothing was unfixable. All he needed was a little feedback and the time to act upon it.

Brown urged the opposite. He said, essentially, that Perry’s mistakes should be considered character flaws. Unfortunately, he’s not alone in his view.

The Air Force increasingly shows systemic ignorance of the concept of character. We’re not born with it. We build it. By living our lives, getting into the arena, and working hard, which includes taking personal and professional chances. In a military context, we build it by making mistakes, learning from them, and overcoming adversity as individuals and in teams. Brown and his fellow senior leaders are confused, believing that character is a function of having never made a mistake. “Character” doesn’t mean what they think it means. Unfortunately, they’re in charge, and convincing everyone to think as they do or risk getting fired and disgraced.

Cultural malfunctions like this one, and the policies they spawn, have something in common. They all start with a simple idea that seems innocent and sensible. In this case, the idea that those who get into some kind of trouble should not be retained or promoted at the expense of those who stay out of trouble. Troublemakers should be banished to purify the realm for good citizens. Or so the idea goes.

This idea animates many stupid things, and not just in the Air Force. Take the recent online dust-up concerning MAJ Charles Slider, who was pushed out of the Army over an old DUI conviction, notwithstanding eight intervening years of superior combat performance and demonstrable recovery from the incident. But in the Air Force, which has embraced modernist notions of zero-defect business management with great zeal, the idea is rampant and extreme.

Failing a PT test, for example, doesn’t just disrupt a career. It condemns an individual. It impacts performance reports, kills decorations earned for unrelated performance, blocks award nominations, ends command consideration, impacts assignments, and disqualifies airmen from special duties. It does this not for a year or two, but officially for five years, meaning one PT failure closes nearly every favorable career door long enough to put an airman permanently behind the power curve. The Air Force says none of this is punishment. They’re right. It’s condemnation.

Examples abound. Colonel Tim Bush was fired from command last year because of a waist measurement. His career was ended. Thousands of airmen have suffered the same fate since the zero-mistake culture began its rapid ascent a few years ago. A dozen years of excellence can be erased by a few uncounted sit-ups or a half inch too much around the belly. Craig Perry and Blair Kaiser had their careers upended on mere suspicion of minor errors that later proved unfounded. Masses of airmen are eliminated annually with the application of a “roll-back” policy that moves up separation dates for those with disciplinary infractions, often over the objections of commanders. Promotion and Reduction boards focus not on promoting those who perform best, but on eliminating or shunning those who have made mistakes. Even families are not immune. A spouse was recently barred from accessing Laughlin Air Force Base, where her husband works, over a minor disagreement with staff members at the clinic.

Inside the bounds of the paradigm, this all seems normal. It’s defensible by that simple principle of purity. But objectively, it produces absurd and counterproductive results for individuals and for the mission. In the world beyond the paradigm, it’s well known that the only people who never make mistakes are those not doing anything.

Systemically, the damage will be catastrophic if this culture continues to prevail. When any human system does not allow people to make minor mistakes and recover from them, a number of pathologies manifest.

First, units are starved of people with character. Nothing builds character like recovering from a mistake. By this logic, General Brown’s lack of mistakes can be seen as a detractor rather than a virtue. His intelligence may have lifted him to great heights, but he may or may not have built the character necessary to sustain altitude.

People will stop working to recover from mistakes, and this is particularly damaging to organizations. They’ll still make mistakes, because that’s what human beings do, at least those doing anything of consequence. They’ll just stop recovering. This means more organizational trash to take out and degraded morale. It also means reduced productivity. No one works harder than an airman with something to prove . . . an airman trying to rebuild his career. No one is more of a slacker than an airman with no prospects . . . an airman just running out the clock on a failed career.

But the next stage of pathology is much worse. When word gets out that any mistake equals career fatality, people will actively avoid mistakes at all costs. They will work hard to avoid any situation that might ensnare them, even indirectly, in a trap of career jeopardy. This creates all sorts of issues, crystallized by the difference between trying to win and trying not to lose. The former involves offensive thinking, which is about seizing and exploiting opportunities, adapting to a fluid situation, and overcoming obstacles to achieve an objective. The latter is about simply avoiding defeat, which means avoiding opportunities and obstacles altogether. It’s about avoiding risk rather than carefully measuring and taking risk when the payoff is tactically promising. The greatest human potential is achieved when operating close to the edge of capability, just shy of overextension. People will never do that if it might mean one slip-up ends their ability to provide for a family or build a professional foundation.

Defensive thinking robs military organizations of the ability to innovate. When it becomes institutionally entrenched, it leads to defeat on the battlefield. The Air Force seems bent on making itself a factory for defensive thinking by structuring itself to be intolerant of mistakes, and therefore intolerant of human variance. Intolerant of human learning. Indeed, intolerant of the primary seed of character, and therefore, intolerant of character itself. On this flight path, the service will lose its character at the systemic level.

This is how institutions fail. General Mark Brown’s performance at Lackland is a vivid exhibit in what seems like a determined flight path . . . one that is championing systems, policies, and processes on the philosophy of human perfection. And if these efforts are not halted, the service is destined to fly a stable, predictable approach into an awaiting mountain of failure.

General Welsh has often spoken about his own fallibility and what he has learned by recovering from missteps. He has also consistently encouraged his subordinate leaders to know the stories of their airmen. He seems to want mutual respect and empathy to be the guidewords of his service. But while helpful, his words are insufficient. His airmen also need policies that recognize their humanity and leaders who are held accountable. Absent the follow-through to put his principles into action, he could be unwittingly fiddling as Rome burns."

I fear a return to the "zero defect" mentality.