It’s Not a Competency Crisis

It’s a consequences crisis.

By guest contributor Peter Thistle.

First, let me say, there is a competency crisis (clickbait, sue me). But the reason for this crisis goes far beyond mere DEI. It lies at the root of managerial and bureaucratic systems themselves; there is a unique mechanism by which bureaucracies distribute responsibility to an asymptotic near-zero at the level of the individual, such that few within any given system are ever punished for their failures. This mechanism can be readily identified by those of us within such systems, and being able to identify and resist such mechanisms, either as a cog within bureaucratic systems or (more importantly) as the authors and builders of new systems, is a skill worth its proverbial weight in gold. It is not possible to design bureaucratic, managerial systems to run autonomously on “policy” without building into them a future of decay into incompetence. Without real command authority and serious consequences for failure (which can only be meted out by leaders who have both authority and responsibility), systems that run on “rules” or “policy” are doomed to fail. As leaders and builders, this is something we have to understand in the core of our being; we have to isolate the nagging liberal priors that would drag us back to rules-based and policy-based organizations.

The recent aviation disaster in Washington, D.C., was a tragedy. Naturally, many commentators pointed out that the reason for the crash will likely be determined as a lack of competency on the part of one or many individuals responsible for safety in aviation, caused in part by DEI policies and lax standards. This is, no doubt, true. However, the problem is not that individuals within the system failed; the problem is the structure of the system itself.

Take the military, for example. Historically, the commander of a unit was fully responsible for everything his unit did or failed to do. Today, on paper anyways, the U.S. military asserts that commanders still retain this responsibility over their men. However, early in the post-war era, the U.S. military stripped individual commanders of the legal authority to discipline the men under their command for misconduct; that is to say, to levy consequences for their actions. This authority was distributed to the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ), and the legal apparatus that sprung up around it. Non-commissioned officers were similarly stripped of their disciplinary authority, which they possessed on the authority of their commanders. What little they were left with has been almost entirely whittled away by the USG such that disciplining an infantry private today for, say, showing up late to movement, losing his weapon, going AWOL, or snorting cocaine is a process now relegated entirely to months-long HR-style paperwork campaigns, the final consequences of which can only ever be a specific and limited set of consequences as defined by the UCMJ. Things that used to be settled by beatings and extra guard shifts are now settled by (literal) HR ladies and docked pay. In addition, whole mountains of rules and regulations have been published governing the conduct of the lowest private on a day-to-day basis; a company commander cannot be punished for his company’s poor physical fitness, because commanders are legally incapable of making any decisions whatsoever that would be required to whip their soldiers into shape. There is no authority, and therefore no responsibility, and so the system decays.

Recently, there was a civil infrastructure “incident” near me that nearly became a full-blown and potentially lethal industrial disaster. Had it not been for a bit of sheer luck and some over-engineered chemical tanks, the surrounding residential neighborhood would have been inconsistent with human survival in a matter of minutes. The scale of the incident would have made international headlines, and the list of casualties would have been long. Naturally, the question arose: Who was responsible? Who screwed up? The answer? Lots of people screwed up. As is so often the case with these incidents, many people screwed up, many times, which eventually resulted in the incident through a chain of causality. These screwups happened under the ultimate screwup: the man in charge failing to accept responsibility for his subordinates and the facility in his care, make decisions, and mete out consequences for failure and insolence. Then comes the band-aid: How do we prevent this from happening again? What TTPs and SOPs need to be changed to prevent this? Maybe there is a low-level worker who will be fired, but at all levels the instinct is to deflect blame; to identify the processes and systems that failed. Therein lies the problem.

All bureaucratic systems — businesses, government, civil infrastructure facilities, etc. — are composed of people. The best systems and processes in the world could not change the fact that the guy manning the gate wasn’t following procedure when he left it open and unlocked. Nobody checked the tanker truck’s manifest, and nobody verified the chemicals on board, despite the procedures instructing them to do so, because there was a dearth of leaders who claimed, possessed, and asserted authority and responsibility over and for the facility.

Bureaucratic systems can work. All organizations, including the most successful, must have at least some level of bureaucracy and rules to function. There is nothing wrong with this. The fault is in delegating authority that can only be kept and wielded by flesh-and-blood men to stacks of papers and sets of rules posted on breakroom walls. Leadership requires both executive authority and the burden of responsibility. Part of the great myth of the 20th century project is that this role can be distributed, democratized, and systematized. It cannot, however, because human beings are not widgets, and human affairs are not mechanistic, but organic. The clearest day-to-day example of this social engineering megaproject is the Human Resources department, but we have become so well-conditioned to these structures that, if you look very hard, I promise you, you will see them subtly replicated in all facets of your everyday life.

Eventually, the cause of the recent crash and tragic loss of life will be determined, with some degree of certainty. Those who had some small hand in contributing to the incident, whether by incompetence or negligence, will have as much recorded in their file with HR. The processes will be amended, procedures updated, and then business will continue as usual as the system slowly grinds itself to dust.

American pioneers and innovators did not conquer the skies by consensus-forming, or by procedures decided upon by committee; great men willed it to be done, and others followed. For a man today to say, “I am in charge, this is my decision, and I accept responsibility for it, come what may,” is anathema to modern Americans. It would rattle the very bones of every HR lady and spineless coward within earshot. Moreover, consequences for failure, indiscipline, or neglect are few and far between, because individuals within our systems know that they can skate by without real consequence for costly — or even deadly — failures. The lesson for us in all of this is the following: as we build our own institutions, whether fraternal organizations, businesses, or other types, we must prize competence. Competence can only be maintained by consequences and discipline. Lastly, and most importantly, consequences can only be enforced by leaders who both wield authority and radically accept responsibility over their subordinates and the organizations in their charge; it cannot be delegated to Human Resources departments and policy documents. So, whether you find yourself the leader or a follower, respect and uphold this natural hierarchy. It is the same spirit that crossed the Atlantic to the New World, and the same spirit through which Man achieved flight.