David Morrison providing some media training
So how does a leader create a 'learning organisation'?
I had to fit a lot into this column and didn't really get the chance to suggest that the Army still has a lot of work to do and doesn't cope with challenges particularly well.
Nevertheless, this is the piece that appeared in the Canberra Times . . .
A TWO-TRICK MILITARY
Just a couple of weeks ago, Army
commander Lieutenant General David ‘one-take’ Morrison was over in the UK
sharing a stage with Angelina Jolie. He’s now (and rightly) far more famous for
his YouTube address, staring down the barrel of the camera and declaring he had
no time for sexist soldiers, than (perhaps) for military prowess. That’s fine,
because command is not just about ensuring machine-guns are sited correctly.
It’s about dynamic leadership – and this is what our military desperately
requires as it transitions into a new environment and role, post-Afghanistan.
But let’s deal with the
anti-misogyny speech first because that’s an integral part of this story, which
is about culture change. Morrison’s former speechwriter Cate McGregor, a
wonderful person who has herself experienced the difficulty of being forced to
play inappropriate gender roles, brilliantly crafted the words. Perhaps this
goes some way to explaining why they resonated so strongly in the community.
But if McGregor wrote the
bonfire, it still required Morrison to ignite the flame. His delivery was, quite
simply, superb. No viewer could doubt his utter determination to enforce his vision.
To a large extent, it’s worked. The proportion of women in the army is up from
under ten to thirteen percent and the army’s become a ‘white ribbon’ workplace
– against gender violence. Yet ‘culture’ doesn’t change overnight, particularly
in strong institutions like the services, and so the shift will, inevitably,
take ‘time’. Nevertheless, even to admit the difficulty of moving forward
offers an excuse to everyone who resists change. It allows them to oppose,
prolong, and delay. The net result: nothing’s achieved and what’s done comes
too late in a rapidly changing world.
This is the challenge faced by
our military today. More than at any other period in history – any other period – our environment is
changing. Not just socially; the transformation in the strategic landscape is
immense. It’s hard to discern exactly how the next war will be fought; which is
the exact point. Whatever happens, it won’t be fought the way we think or
against the enemy we imagine. Future conflicts will bear no more similarity to
Afghanistan than the sands of El Alamein did to the rice paddies of Vietnam, or
the ‘thin red line’ of the Crimea did to the trenches of Gallipoli. This means
we need, not necessarily to change, but certainly to challenge the structures
upon which our defences are founded.
Yesterday was General David
Hurley’s last day as Chief of the Defence Force. I first met him in 1978, when
he was Adjutant of the Sydney University Regiment. A lot’s changed since that
time. The pipes and drums of the SUR band we marched behind have now, unfortunately
and regrettably, gone, but so has that entire world. Hurley served with the
Irish Guards when the British army was planning to repel a Soviet invasion
across the inner German border. Yet, by the time he was actually commanding
troops in action, his job was attempting to create order in the chaos of
Somalia. Today he heads off wearing his aiguillette again, this time as
Governor of New South Wales.
This is the big challenge for our
forces. How best to structure and train for the next war. This is where,
interestingly, it may be that the very professionalism and discipline that
makes our military so brilliantly competent may actually be a stumbling block
as we attempt to envisage the future.
The new Defence White Paper
offers an opportunity to peer into the future and choose how we’ll engage in
this coming world. Perhaps the biggest change over the coming decades is going
to be our relative strategic ‘weight’. In five years Indonesia’s economy will
be bigger than ours. We’d need to punch well above our weight simply to remain
a middle-power, but that’s not our future. In twenty years time I find it
genuinely difficult to perceive any future in which Australia will not be
relegated diplomatically to World Cup status. A good team, certainly, with an
occasional good player, but nowhere near the top of the league.
This is a future that’s not been
properly grappled with by our politicians or media, although it’s beginning.
The Royal United Services Institute (a crusty sounding body if ever there was
one) understands the need to debate these issues. That’s why tonight at the
Harmonie Club in Narrabundah, it’s beginning a series of seminars, open to the
public, to discuss the White Paper. People who know Defence (like federal
Canberra politician Gay Brodtmann), the region (ASPI analyst Natalie Sambhi) or
both (such as ANU academic John Blaxland) are beginning to articulate exactly
what we need from our forces.
Other specialists are coming
together in the National Security Forum, which is also dealing with these
issues. This won’t be just another think-tank – it’s aiming to engage with the
public and in broader forums to break out of our traditional ways of thinking
about defence. The vigour of their opinions is refreshing. This is exactly what
we need. Which brings us back to Morrison.
The Army’s commander understands
change has already arrived. Last week I attended a seminar he arranged on
future warfare on the Pacific Rim. Former officer, now consultant David
Killcullen emphasised that the very terrain of the region is changing. The
development of mega-cities means that these have become virtual sub-states of
their own. Simply operating inside these is likely to become almost impossible,
even for massive armies. The resources the metropolis demands are just too great
to be met by force alone.
The military’s been justly
criticised in the past for not being prepared to challenge itself. It’s still
too rigid and the structure of the army urgently needs to change. But don’t
accuse Morrison of not welcoming debate. Or, if you do, stand handily out of
arms reach.
I was once a member of the SUR Pipes and Drums...and quite a bunch of characters they were... known to many a General staff officer and RSM for their musical prowess and somewhat irreverent conduct at other times (carrying tinnies behind their sporrans) - these days the former SUR members are now marching as an RSL Club band on Anzac Day, Sir Nicholas.
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