The other thing that I've learned about change over the years is that the whole group will never change. Ever. So you find the top 20% who are ready for change -- they may be the youngest, the smartest, or the whatever-est -- and you give those people all of your attention. You dump the bottom 20%, and you don't spend a whole lot of time on the middle. That's how you get change to happen.

Can Leadership Grow from the Grass Roots?

Mike Abrashoff

As many of you know, the U.S. military today is in deep trouble. People aren't joining. More people are leaving. The attrition rates are going through the roof. In the Navy, 33% of those who join never complete their first tour of duty. Combat readiness is declining. I'd like to tell you something about a ship that I took command of two years ago -- the USS Benfold.

As a result of a new leadership initiative on that ship, the Benfold's retention rate went from about 25% to 100% in 20 of the Navy's top three categories. Attrition went from more than 18% to less than 1%. Our mission-degrading casualties went from 75 to 24. And during my final 12 months in command, we ran the ship on 75% of our operating budget, returning millions of dollars to the Navy. All of those results were an outgrowth of having people who were motivated, people who wanted to do the right thing -- to operate more efficiently and more intelligently, while improving our bottom line.

My conversion to grassroots leadership began the day that I took command of the Benfold. When there's a change of command in an outfit, it's a huge production: The crew stops working for two weeks to paint the ship, to rig bunting, and to set up a big tent and a lot of chairs. Then there's a reception with music from the Navy band. The admirals all come and give speeches about how great the outgoing guy is. Then the outgoing guy is piped over the side. As my predecessor was leaving the ship with his family, the whole crew stood up and cheered.

My first reaction was, "What do I have to do to keep that from happening to me when I leave in two years?" So I looked in my leadership tool kit to see what I could pull out to change the situation. And I found that the tools that I had spent a lifetime accruing didn't apply to my new situation. So I decided that very day that I was going to try some new initiatives--initiatives that connected with people, that made them want to perform, that made them want to stay, and that made them want to work.

I decided that before I could fix the problems on the ship, I had to find out what those problems were. And to do that, I interviewed every crew member individually. I started each interview with several questions: Where are you from? Why did you join the Navy? What are your goals in the Navy? What are your goals in life? Then I asked three more questions: What do you like most about the Benfold? What do you like least? And what things would you change if you could?

The minute I started these interviews, our performance took off like a rocket. Whenever I got an outstanding idea from a sailor--and about 70% of the ideas that I got were, in fact, outstanding--I would implement that idea right on the spot. I didn't form a committee, or check metrics, or do a cost-benefit analysis. If an idea made sense to me, I'd implement it then and there. I'd use the public-address system to tell the rest of the crew what the new idea was, which sailor I got it from, that we were implementing it immediately, that I wanted their support--and that if the idea wasn't working after a month, we'd try something else.

Whenever I felt that I was losing my way as a leader, I would take out an index card that I always keep in my wallet. On the card are eight traits that I use as personal guidelines: A leader is trusted. A leader takes the initiative. A leader uses good judgment. A leader speaks with authority. A leader strengthens others. A leader is optimistic and enthusiastic. A leader never compromises his absolutes. A leader leads by example.

When it came time for my change of command, I decided to do that differently from my predecessor as well. The event was held at sea. And when it finally came time for the change of command, the entire crew gathered on the flight deck, and I gave the shortest change-of-command speech in the history of the U.S. Navy. All I said was "You know how I feel." Then I saluted my relief and went to a ladder where a small boat was waiting to take me ashore. I turned to salute my crew and got into my boat and left for shore, as Toad the Wet Sprocket's "Walk on the Ocean" played over the stereo speakers. By the time I got home, I already had an email on my computer from a crew member who had written to tell me that there hadn't been a dry eye on the ship.

So my question for you is "When it comes time for you to leave your current organization, will you leave to cheers--or to tears?"