“Leadership is the sum of those qualities of intellect, human understanding and moral character that enables a person to inspire and control a group of people successfully”
– MAJ GEN John Legeune, USMC

In leading the diverse group of people that comprise my small part of the Royal Australian Corps of Military Police, I have learned that no one method of leadership is applicable to all people. The team itself is like a dinner table, in that for the family to come together their places must first be set, assigned, and the meal prepared to be served. Why would you sit down to a meal at a table that has not been made ready for you to join?

In the Army of 2022, it is more critical than ever to remember that command and leadership are, at their core, a well-regulated social relationship. It is incumbent on all those who lead, and especially those who command, to remember that their efficacy at the head of any team is reliant upon the strength and resilience of the relationships they form. To this end, I would reflect upon three key lessons that my command has taught me, in these formative years of my career.

1. Competence can be developed but character cannot – ‘be good or be good at it’ does not apply to command

There is a fallacy which exists among the highly competent – that they are not required to be ‘good’ or ‘nice’ or ‘personable’ because their professional mastery not only fills that void but renders those who do not share their competency inherently inferior and in need of their hard-earned wisdom. Unfortunately, this is a trap that far too many junior officers and junior non-commissioned officers fall into. 

It is too easily forgotten that a skill, be it scoring top marks on RP3A or running sub-nine on a 2.4km, is inherently achievable by almost anyone if they are willing to apply the requisite effort, discipline, and diligence. Not-withstanding that not all personnel have these goals, the one thing that cannot be grown or improved, is the character of the person entering service. Character can be refined, it can be shaped, and it can be very clearly determined; but to change the human being is only achievable over time and that is a resource we do not have, given the ever-approaching strategic precipice we find ourselves perched on. 

The lesson here is simple. To be a leader, as opposed to a manager, we must be good people. Our character must be such that people want to follow us. A high level of competency in our core trade is obviously important, but competency should be used as reinforcing fires to the direct support mission being executed by our character.

To be humble, upright and honest should be the aspiration of every person but nowhere is it more critical than those who lead within the profession of arms.

2. People follow people – not appointments

The art of leadership, as previously iterated, is overwhelmingly a social one. Whilst a king might issue their edicts from the ramparts and might reasonably expect they be followed, their subjects will soon be swayed by the temptation of the charming rebel who rallies those in the town square. So too is the case, at least from this subaltern’s experience, in commanding Australian soldiers.

Ours are not afraid to question the officer’s decision-making if it is not sound by their reasoning – indeed the practice of intelligent disobedience is alive and well within the ranks of our service. Our non-commissioned officers, and quite deliberately our other ranks, are highly trained and extremely well educated. We recruit from a pool of individuals who are educated to one of the highest standards in the world, and even amongst that outstanding pool we take only the best.

Our soldiers and, from my own training, our junior officers, are encouraged to constantly question. What this provides to a military organisation is one of the key challenges associated with the professionalisation of soldiering – blind obedience is no longer the status quo nor is subordination considered virtuous. A commission is no longer adequate qualification to lead the intelligent and tenacious soldier entering service today.

What does this require from those of us who have been blessed with the privilege of leadership and its cousin, the burden of command? It requires that we model ourselves as humans who are worth following. It demands that instead of placing inspirational quotes at the foot of our email signature blocks, we embody the spirit of Chesty Puller and Ridgeway; get down in the dirt and sweep the transport yard on a Friday afternoon. To draw on the work of Ross Perot, we must never ask someone to do something we haven’t done before and wouldn’t do again.

3. There is social currency in every exchange – and it doesn’t pay for commanders to pay with credit

“Leadership is a two way street – loyalty up and loyalty down. Respect for one’s superiors, care for one’s crew”
– Rear Admiral Grace Hopper, U.S. Navy

If these reflections have drawn out a lesson, it is that leadership and command are a unique mix of legal authority and social credibility. Whilst one can command and manage based on appointment or rank alone, it is neither advisable nor an effective means of getting the most from one’s subordinates. If one considers every engagement with their subordinates as a transaction, where social credit is the currency, it is easy to see that relying on the authority bestowed by law (the credit card), will rapidly see a commander’s account in debit that cannot easily be repaid.

It is in these situations of maxed out credit that we see separations, reduced employability, and generalised reduction in morale. Soldiers do not lightly give their loyalty or their good favour – and both of those things, irrespective of the legal authority of the commander, are critical to success in conflict. History is rife with examples of commanders whose legal authority failed when their personal character was wanting – the Mutiny of the Bounty is a key example.

These reflections are based off a varied experience across battalions and upon diverse and (in some cases) immensely complex welfare cases. Through enquiries and investigations, deployments and exercises, these lessons have made themselves apparent to me in my observation of my peers, superiors, and indeed my subordinates.

Though the upcoming gauntlet of staff and instructional appointments may yet change my understanding of leadership, I firmly believe that I will always maintain one core principle – if subordinates are not coming to the table, it’s probably because the table isn’t set yet.