Where There's Smoke It Helps to Have a Smoke Jumper

There's a common lament among businesspeople in all kinds of companies: "How am I supposed to get any work done I spend all of my time putting out fires." The "fire" in question might be a dissatisfied customer who demands lots of attention, or it might be an unexpected financial setback that, if left unaddressed, could become a strategic crisis. We'd certainly be more productive if more of our days were free of the kinds of crises that seem to erupt at a moment's notice. But in a fast-moving, always-changing, increasingly unpredictable economy, it is a required skill for business leaders to be able to jump into the middle of a tough situation with little or no information, to size things up, and to have the wits to take action -- fast.

That's what smoke jumper Wayne Williams does for a living. Williams, 43, is part of the elite, highly trained wildland fire-fighting division of the U.S. Forest Service, and he has been fighting fires -- literally -- for 23 years. Forming what are known as "initial attack teams," smoke jumpers are like the Green Berets of the fire-fighting world. They get deployed anywhere, at any time, with remarkable speed. Within one hour, a smoke-jumping crew can arrive at a fire from as far away as 150 miles.

There is an undeniable aura surrounding smoke jumpers. They are a tight-knit team of men and women who fight fires in the middle of the wilderness, armed with only a few tools, tremendous courage, and their wits. They have been immortalized in books, mythologized on the silver screen, and featured in more than 80 documentaries. Norman Maclean, the award-winning author of "A River Runs Through It," explored the perilous world of smoke jumpers in his book "Young Men and Fire" (University of Chicago Press, 1992) , which revisits the 1949 tragedy at Mann Gulch, in Montana's Helena National Forest, where 13 smoke jumpers lost their lives. In 1998, 20th Century Fox released "Firestorm," an action drama (and, according to Williams, an "inaccurate embarrassment") that portrays one smoke jumper in a glamorous light -- a fearless hero who kills the bad guy and saves the damsel in distress.

In the real world, dealing with forest fires involves clear thinking, precise teamwork, smart strategies, lots of backbreaking work -- and very little glamour. "There are two things that matter most when containing a wildfire: the speed at which you get to a fire, and the actions of the team that gets there first," explains Williams. Since most wildland fires burn in remote areas, the smoke jumpers' commute to work is usually a quick, harrowing parachute jump from an airplane. Once on the ground (wearing packs that can weigh more than 100 pounds) , smoke jumpers hike over steep, wild terrain to the scene of the fire and do whatever is humanly possible to contain it -- whether that takes a few hours or several days. The need for smoke jumping is growing like -- well, like wildfire. In 1999, there were 86,202 reported wildfires in the United States, and they burned a total of 5,468,469 acres of land.

Fighting fires is not a job for the weak of body -- or the weak of mind. Indeed, what you first notice about Williams are his hands. Thickly callused and as solid as boards, they move with surprising grace as he explains the unpredictable nature of fire -- which, he agrees, is a perfect metaphor for the unpredictable nature of the problems that erupt in the new world of work. "Trying to understand a fire is like trying to understand someone with multiple personalities," says Williams. "Each fire has its own character, its own idiosyncrasies -- and it changes. A fire can be quiet, minding its own business, and then, all of a sudden, it will get up and run. If you're not paying attention to every bit of information and every changing detail that the fire is throwing at you, it will catch you."

Fast Company recently caught up with Williams at the Forest Service's Smokejumper Center, in Missoula, Montana. With no fires raging, Williams had some time to share his lessons on the art of understanding fires and on what it takes to put them out.

Figure Out What You Think -- And Then Think Again

You can't fight a fire effectively until you've figured it out. You need to understand the kind of fire that you're up against, the conditions under which you'll be fighting it, and the events that are likely to unfold as the fire is being fought. Figuring out a fire requires two minds, or two memories. Before we leave base, we're briefed on the conditions that we're supposed to find on the ground. We may know the fire's spread rate, what fuel type we're dealing with, the incoming weather, and so on. That captures what we know about the fire at a certain moment in time -- but not what's going to happen once we arrive.