Caught Slippin’
New York Governor Andrew Cuomo sparked outrage when he announced his Thanksgiving plans. Two of his daughters and his mother were going to travel to see him.
Seems innocent enough, so why the outrage? Well, it turns out that New Yorkers didn’t appreciate the governor inviting his family for Thanksgiving while telling them that they should stay home amid rising Covid-19 infections. He canceled the plans.
New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio faced similar backlash in March when he was caught working out at a YMCA the day a stay-at-home order was to go into effect.
“The YMCA has been a huge part of his and his family’s life, like it has been for a lot of New Yorkers. It’s clear that’s about to change and before that, the mayor wanted to visit a place that keeps him grounded one last time. That doesn’t change the fact that he is working around the clock to ensure the safety of New Yorkers,” a de Blasio spokesperson said in a statement.
California Governor Gavin Newsome attended a birthday dinner in contravention of his state’s guidelines on comingling inside with members of other households.
These are just a few examples of public officials expecting something of the public but demanding less of themselves. When hypocritical acts of selfishness are discovered — and they frequently are — it undermines public trust.
But they are also moments from which we can learn. They may even be acts we have committed ourselves.
From the very beginning, Army leaders are taught the importance of leading by example. Some do it better than others, while some don’t even attempt it.
As civilian leaders across the nation are experiencing, it’s hard to be consistent when leading. It’s hard to always do the right thing. But under the spotlight, even one slip up can leave a lasting negative impression.
When I was a platoon leader, my attack aviation troop deployed to the National Training Center at Fort Irwin, California, where we conducted a fourteen-day training rotation in the “box.”
The 14-day desert rotation in August was tough. And hot. We were exhausted by the end of it.
On the last day of training, our pilots flew the Apaches a short distance from the box to the main cantonment. The crew chiefs, meanwhile, had to make the trip via ground convoy — a several-hour trip.
As one of the pilots, I found myself waiting around with nothing to do while waiting on the ground troops to show up. On account of not taking a shower for two weeks, I was nasty. Since I had the time, I took a shower and walked out of the bathroom feeling like a brand new man.
The crew chiefs arrived within a few hours, and I walked out to help them unload the equipment with a fresh shave and a fresh outlook on life. They, on the other hand, looked like, well, like they had just finished a long haul in a military vehicle while wearing full gear after spending two weeks in the desert sun.
We unloaded the equipment in about an hour, and then the crew chiefs had their chance to shower.
During this sequence of events, our squadron executive officer pulled me aside and gave me an earful. How dare I disrespect the soldiers — my soldiers — by taking care of myself before I took care of them.
It wasn’t a case of “do as I say, not as I do,” but rather a case of enjoying a privilege not afforded to my platoon. Different, but kind of the same.
Perhaps the governors and mayor suffered from Covid-19 fatigue. Maybe, they thought, “what’s the harm of just one exception?” Or, perhaps they issued public safety guidelines after listening to public health experts but didn’t believe in the policies in the first place.
Whatever the case, it’s a bad look.
“Good for me, but not for thee.”
I don’t know if it was wrong to take that shower. Should I have just sat in the sleeping bay, waiting in filth for the platoon to arrive hours later? Is there virtue in suffering — just because? I’m not convinced there is, but I know the perception is that it is. It’s especially true when everyone else is suffering.
In leadership — that squishy concept that is not quite an art, but not quite a science — perception matters. Leading by example matters. And so does taking care of your people before you take care of yourself, even if you’re not doing it at their expense.
The NTC experience was an opportunity to reflect on the type of leader I wanted to be moving forward.
I still don’t get it right all the time. But it bothers me when I think I didn’t get it right, and I can then reflect and do better in the future.
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The views expressed are those of Brennan Randel and do not reflect the official position of the Department of the Army, Department of Defense, or any government agency.
