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Relentless Learning
Strategy #4
Build a gung-ho culture of learning and innovation.
The very best teams develop the ability to learn from experience. They have the ability to innovate, and to generate and implement new ideas. In practice, however, these fundamental skills are difficult to develop and even harder to maintain.
My colleague Robert Shaw and I have invested a considerable amount of time trying to understand why learning and innovation are so problematic.1 As we looked at everything that needed to happen for a team to learn effectively, it became easier to understand why it is so challenging to create learning-friendly teams and organizations.
At a conceptual level, the steps involved in creating a learning team are relatively straightforward. Teams need to do three essential things. They need to: take action, reflect on the outcomes of their actions, and gain insights that will help them improve future performance. In a larger organization, individual teams need to disseminate their ideas and learnings to help other teams as well.
Although the concepts are simple, we found an imposing list of things that can interrupt the learning cycle.
The capacity to take action is inhibited when organizations create risk-averse cultures that penalize failure, when teams lack the resources to experiment, when team members experience the strain of too many conflicting priorities, and when people feel powerless, resigning themselves to simply following orders.
The capacity to reflect and gain insight is diminished when teams deny that problems exist, when they get complacent because of previous successes, and when they lack forums to talk about team performance.
The capacity to share learnings is blocked when teams become inwardly focused and when they view other teams as competitors. For a team on a sailboat racing against other competitors, this insular view makes sense. But, as Ancona and Bresman argue, when different teams in the organization need to work together to succeed, this isolation becomes counterproductive.
Although many conditions must be met in order to create a learning team, we found success stories along with the failures. Here are some tactics that will help your team innovate and learn.
Tactics for Teamwork at The Edge
Think gung-ho
The expression gung-ho often conjures up an image of someone—maybe a football player or soldier—charging ahead with unbridled enthusiasm. But the origins of the phrase are rooted in a concept quite different from that stereotypic picture. Originally an abbreviation for Chinese industrial cooperatives, the two characters in the phrase gung-ho came to be translated by some Americans as “work together,” or “work in harmony.” One of those Americans was a Marine officer named Evans Carlson.
Carlson had heard the term while serving with the Chinese resistance in 1937 and 1938. In 1942, Carlson—now a Lieutenant Colonel—was placed in command of the 2nd Marine Raider Battalion.
The 2nd Raider Battalion was specifically organized and tasked with conducting guerrilla operations against the Japanese. The idea of a specialized “commando” unit was strongly supported by President Franklin Roosevelt, who was desperate to find a way to strike back against Japan. The history of Carlson's Raiders is rich in drama, but one of the most interesting chapters of the Gung-Ho Battalion concerns Colonel Carlson's approach to training and organization.
Carlson had served in both the Army and the Marine Corps, and he had been both an officer and an enlisted man—a member of the rank and file. Carlson's experience convinced him that the sharp divide between officers and the troops was counterproductive. Consequently, in the egalitarian spirit that he had observed while serving with the Chinese resistance, Carlson decided to hold weekly gung-ho meetings.
In these gung-ho assemblies, anyone—officer or enlisted—had the right to speak without fear of reprisal. Observing the Raiders in action, one news correspondent was astounded to see a corporal disagree with his captain over a maneuver they had practiced earlier. When questioned about the exchange, Colonel Carson responded simply, “I like men who think.”2
Some questioned Carlson's unorthodox view of hierarchy and the chain of command, but the concept of gung-ho meetings, where everyone has a right to speak up, is central to the concept of learning and innovation. The ability to talk honestly about what works, what doesn't work, and what might work is critical to effective teamwork.
Neville Crichton is the owner and skipper of the super maxi yacht Alfa Romeo. Crichton comes from a long line of adventurers—his grandfather accompanied Shackleton on an expedition in the Antarctic—and he himself is a distinguished sailor. Crichton has carried the New Zealand flag to victory in almost 200 races throughout the world, and he was honored by Queen Elizabeth II for his contributions to yachting and business.
Unlike many wealthy businesspeople, Crichton is a hands-on skipper who actually sails his boat. And in the spirit of gung-ho, he is also committed to learning as a team. As Crichton describes the team on Alfa Romeo:
We don't have prima donnas on the boat; we just have very good sailors. We work as a team, not as prima donnas screaming at everyone else. We have a talk as a crew before the start of the race, and after the race we do a debrief and we take notes. We follow-up and we fix things that go wrong—and that applies even if I'm the skipper. If I've stuffed up the start, it's discussed and we find out why I stuffed up the start. It's not an embarrassment. We talk openly about it, we make notes on it, and we fix it for the next race.3
The ability to talk openly about why things get “stuffed up” is a central tenet of gung-ho, and a hallmark of winning teams.
Encourage and invest in innovation
Like AFR Midnight Rambler, Rosebud's impressive record is based on teamwork, not individual rock stars. As Malcolm Park put it:
We aren't the big names in sailing. On some boats we sail against, every single person aboard is an America's Cup helmsman or tactician. That's just not who we are. I'm not taking anything away from how those teams function—they're incredibly competitive and they are great groups to sail against. But that's not our vision.
Our vision is much more oriented to offshore sailing. As a result we don't necessarily want an America's Cup tactician. We want people who can get along and have confidence in the rest of their team members to do their job.
When you're down below at the end of the day and it's blowing 40 knots up on deck and is miserable, you need to be able to rest and be prepared to come back on deck again in three hours. But the only way that you can do that is if you've got absolute confidence in the team that's on deck so that you can relax.
Having confidence in everyone on your team is a key to success. It's been my experience that if you have rock stars aboard, they don't necessarily function as part of the team. I'm not saying it can't happen; it just hasn't been my experience.4
Park's description of the Rosebud team reminded me of the Ramblers. The Rosebud crew had worked together for a significant amount of time. They were all good sailors, but there were no rock stars or jewel positions. In addition, Park noted the consistency between his leadership as a watch captain and that of Kevin Miller, another watch leader.
The commitment to teamwork aboard Rosebud came as no surprise, but Park went on to describe the creativity encouraged by the owner, Roger Sturgeon. Sturgeon is a mathematician who thinks about the world in a way that invites creative thinking. To encourage ingenuity, Rosebud has devoted 10 percent of its total budget to invest in ideas that are “outside the realm of what is normally expected or used in the marine industry.”
All of the sailors in key spots were encouraged to come up with a new idea. And each of the individuals who had something they wanted to experiment with could have the satisfaction of seeing their idea being implemented.
Not every suggestion resulted in a workable idea. But as Park sees it:
If just one of the ideas out of that 10 percent of the budget succeeds, people will have an acknowledgment of their success and we will have a better boat for it. It could be a completely outrageous idea that nobody's tried before. I think it's important to allow that. It enhances creativity and allows people more involvement in the boat. People might come up with something that nobody else has thought of. And that's a huge upside.
I asked Park if he could recall any new ideas that were especially interesting. He responded: “Yup, I can think of three specific things right now.” When I asked him what they were, he replied, “I can't tell you. We don't think anybody else has come up with them.” I suspect he was right, and I understand why he had no interest in disseminating his innovative ideas to his competitors.
Keep learning in the heat of the battle
One dark night in Vietnam I was standing at the opening of my sandbagged bunker, listening to radio messages that were being broadcast on a variety of tactical frequencies. Most of the messages were routine, but the urgency I heard in the voices during one exchange caught my attention.
I had a small reel-to-reel tape recorder, and, for reasons I can't fully explain, I decided to tape the radio conversation. Three radio call signs were the most active: Klondike, used for a Marine observation squadron equipped with armed “Huey” helicopters; Switch, used by the helicopters designed for troop transport; and Duckbill, the call sign of a ten-man reconnaissance team.
The initial exchange that I heard was as follows:
KLONDIKE: Duckbill, this is Klondike, over.
DUCKBILL: Go ahead, Klondike.
KLONDIKE: Be advised if we can get one bird in there the ceiling may come down again and we will be unable to get the rest of your team out. Will this be acceptable to you? We'll stay in the area all night if we have to, but they may be left there for a period of time until we can get another straight shot in.
After a short pause, the recon team responded: “This is Duckbill. If you could kick some M-60 out the door we could definitely use it, over.”
This short sentence told me everything I needed to know about the situation. Klondike was trying to execute a night extraction of a reconnaissance team. The team, Duckbill, was in contact with the enemy. They were so low on ammunition for their M-60 machine gun that they wanted the gunship to kick some ammunition boxes out the door. They were in danger of being overrun. All ten Marines could be killed in a matter of minutes.
Klondike responded: “I'll give it a try, if you can use the M-60 ammo…. We're about out of it now but…I'll tell you what…I think we can use it better than you can right now…. If worse comes to worst, we'll go back and get some more and bring it out for you.”
The recon team responded with a terse “Roger,” and the extraction helicopters maneuvered to get in position to bring out the team. The pilot in the gunship, Klondike, was orchestrating the whole operation. I could visualize the scene.
The recon team was using a strobe light cupped around a cap to provide a directional beam of light that would guide in the extraction helicopters. Klondike would lead the way in with the two extract choppers following behind. The message exchange continued.
KLONDIKE: Okay, fine. I'm heading straight in toward the strobe light…now on heading of about 180 from my present location. Okay, let me have hot guns, please. You got the strobe light, Switch?
SWITCH: Yeah.
KLONDIKE: Okay, I'll get my door gunners to shoot.
DUCKBILL: Guide on the strobe light, Switch. We got you coming in.
The extraction helicopter made two unsuccessful attempts to land on the hillside where the recon team was located. But it was dark, visibility was limited by the fog, and the helicopters were taking ground fire from the attacking enemy.
Klondike continued to coordinate the confusing situation and to provide encouragement: “Okay, fine, Switch. Third time's a charm if you want to try it.”
The extraction chopper agreed to try it once again, and Klondike continued his narration.
KLONDIKE: I'm going to be holding a tight orbit. What I want to do this time is let you go in first and have your door gunners fire forward and down on the way in. My ammo's getting pretty low. I'd like to put a couple rounds of 2.75 [rockets] in ahead of you…from behind you…. Don't worry, I'll miss…. But I think that might be a little more impressive to those gents that are shooting at us.
It was now clear to me that all the helicopters were taking fire from the ground and that Klondike had kept his lights on so that everyone could see where he was located. But this made him a sitting duck and a clear target.
In spite of the fact that Klondike was taking fire and running low on ammo and fuel, he continued his relaxed and encouraging tone: “Okay, have you got a base of fire down there, Duckbill? I know Switch would appreciate it.”
I was sure that the extraction helicopters would indeed appreciate suppressive fire from the recon team. I had been in a number of dangerous situations with people who were cool under fire, but Klondike's calming presence was exceptional. He could have been on a golf course on Nantucket instead of a mountainside in Vietnam. Whoever Klondike was, he was orchestrating this dangerous and complex operation without the slightest bit of frustration or anxiety.
Once more, Klondike attempted to get the extraction helicopters into the recon team's landing zone.
KLONDIKE: All right, I'm going to lead you in this time. I'll have my door gunners shoot for a while. I'll bank off to the left. As I bank off, I'll give you the word and then you can use your door gunners to fire forward. I'll come around behind you for one rocket in. I'm on my way in right now. Do you have me?
Switch replied, “Affirmative,” and the Klondike pilot continued to orchestrate the operation, directing the extraction helicopter to the strobe light. Things appeared to be going well, and Klondike kept up his encouragement saying, “You're looking good, you're looking good.”
I then heard sounds of shouting and yelling from the recon team. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew it wasn't good. Their next transmission told the story: “Switch, this is Duckbill. Switch just shot right into our position.”
The door gunner from the extraction chopper had accidentally fired right into the position of the recon team. Everyone wanted to know what happened, and the transmissions continued:
KLONDIKE: Duckbill, this is Klondike. Can you still talk to me?
DUCKBILL: That's affirmative, I can still talk.
KLONDIKE: Okay, how are you making out down there?
DUCKBILL: We have one man wounded from that last pass. Other than that…Correction…Two people hit.
It is impossible to exaggerate the level of tension, anger, and frustration that surrounded the mission. The extraction helicopters were taking fire and had trouble finding the recon team. The recon team was about to be overrun. The door gunner from one of the helicopters had just wounded two Marines. It was clear that this mission could end in complete disaster.
The next transmission from the recon team was terse: “Klondike, inform Switch that the strobe light is friendly, over!”
The Klondike pilot knew that something had to be done to straighten out this mess. Once again, he transmitted a matter-of-fact, calm message: “Duckbill, I'd like a little discussion on what happened that time please…. So we can try to remedy it this time in.”
I had seen a lot of things in Vietnam, but this was one of the most unusual. It was a difficult mission to begin with, and everything had gone wrong. The recon team was taking enemy and friendly fire, and not a single member of the team had been extracted. Fuel was getting low, and some support aircraft were leaving the scene with a bingo fuel state—the minimum amount needed to return safely to base. Still, the pilot coordinating the mission stayed calm, simply asking for a little discussion about what happened so we can try to remedy the problem.
The faces of the Marines in my bunker were grim as we listened to the back-and-forth transmissions among Klondike, Switch, and Duckbill. Was it possible that after all this they could simply have a conversation about what had gone wrong, then develop a solution while continuing to engage in a firefight?
They developed a new plan. The door gunners on the extraction chopper would not fire on the way in, and the recon team would pop a parachute flare just before the Switch chopper touched down.
KLONDIKE: Switch, I've got you in sight. I'm on my way in. I'll have my door gunners shooting a bit on the way in and I'll put two rockets in ahead of you.
KLONDIKE: Okay, let's have your flare now. Flare now, Duckbill.
DUCKBILL: Be advised we don't have any more flares. We popped them in that last pass, over.
The Klondike pilot wasn't fazed by this latest problem. He contacted Bushrose, a C-130 flare ship that was circling overhead, and continued the mission.
KLONDIKE: Switch, I'm going to put one rocket in behind you. That's going to be me making noise back here. I have you in sight. No sweat. Go straight ahead now. Straight ahead. Okay, Bushrose your flares are good. Don't let them die out this time, though.
BUSHROSE: We won't.
KLONDIKE: Okay, straight on up, Switch. You're looking real good. Don't be afraid to wave it off if you get in trouble. We're right on top of you. Okay, Duckbill, let's have some fire out of the zone. Good, good, good. Okay, you're looking real fine, Switch.
DUCKBILL: Forward and to your left, Switch.
KLONDIKE: Left, left, left.
DUCKBILL: Little bit more, a little bit more. Put her down.
KLONDIKE: Looking real good. This is Klondike. How are you making out? You're shooting right underneath me now. Give me a call prior to you coming out. Call coming out, please.
SWITCH: Do we have everyone?
KLONDIKE: This is Klondike. You're going to have to decide that. Take a count. Still taking fire out here. And we're still taking fire.
About twenty minutes later, the final transmissions of the operation were sent.
KLONDIKE: Bushrose, much thanks for the flares and the lights down here. They were a big help finding holes in the clouds. We're all through. We got everybody out and thanks much for your work.
BUSHROSE: Okay, good job. You did a real fine job. Looked good from up here.
KLONDIKE: Okay, fine. We'll see you later.5
With that, the mission was over. Though two men had been wounded, all ten Marines in the recon patrol had been flown to safety. What could have been a tragedy ended as a successful extract.
When I got back to the States, I played the tape for a colorful Marine pilot named Crash Kimo who had gotten his nickname after being shot down five times. His ability to survive, combined with his never-give-up attitude, had made him something of a legend. Even after his helicopter had run out of rockets, Crash was known for continuing the fight by sticking his .45 pistol out of the cockpit.
As soon as Crash heard the tape, he knew exactly who it was. “That's John Arick, no question about it,” he said. I eventually found John, who had retired from the Marine Corps as a Brigadier General. For his actions that night, he had received a gold star—in lieu of a third Distinguished Flying Cross—for his “superior aeronautical skill, fearless determination, and steadfast dedication to duty under extremely adverse conditions.”
I spoke with John at his home in Texas, and he was as unassuming in that conversation as he had been in Vietnam. But I've never forgotten what happened that night, and how it's possible to learn—even under the most adverse circumstances. All it takes is a simple statement: I'd like a little discussion about what happened that time, please—so we can try to remedy it this time in.
Navigation Points
1. Does your team discuss things that go wrong as well as things that go right?
2. Do all team members feel free to speak up about problems without fear of reprisal? Do they feel free to comment on decisions and actions of the team leader?
3. Does the team extract learnings from mistakes and use them to prevent future errors?
4. Are people encouraged to come up with new ideas and new ways of thinking? Are they rewarded for innovation?
5. Does the team have a continuous learning process that enables them to have a little discussion about things that are going wrong—while the team is in the heat of the battle?