Bonkers.
I'm not knocking my predecessor. The Marines loved him because he made each of them feel like a winner every month. But his focus on quantity and not quality meant the very Marines who worshipped him as a commander dug themselves into holes every month trying to make mission. The recruiters were working every single day, without any time off, and we weren't making mission until midnight on the last day of the month, which meant the next day, they had to turn around and start the cycle all over again. Their absence from their home, as well as their stress levels, tore their families apart. My recruiters were drinking. They were getting in fights. They were driving while intoxicated. They were arguing with their spouses. They were getting fat and out of shape. I understood why, and I wanted to fix it. That was my priority.
In any case, we had to shift the focus and the mind-set of the Marine recruiters. It took a lot of persuasion and motivation; it took a little bit of yelling; it took being firm. That was especially tough because these Marines had, in the past, been applauded for getting the big numbers—not laid out for the high attrition rates.
Looking at the data helped me figure out where we needed to focus our efforts not only to change and improve the quality of life for the recruiters but also to improve the caliber of the recruits. We realized it was a leadership issue for the district commander. If you have recruiting stations that aren't making mission, your job is to look at them and hold them accountable, give them training, figure out why they're not making mission, and then help them change that—not rely on one recruiting station to do extra at the expense of discharges and at the expense of quality in the Marine Corps.
A CEO would likely look at those managers and say, “Hey. This needs to get straight, and here's how we're going to do it. And if you can't make mission by selling 602 widgets in six months, then I'll just fire you and find someone who can.”
Funny thing about the Marine Corps: A recruit signs the dotted line, saying he or she will give up life or limb for her country, and, in return, the Corps will start them out at about a thousand dollars a month for a salary. With this four-year contract, it's awfully hard to fire someone. In the Marine Corps, your boss gives orders, and you follow them, or you get in trouble.
Conversely, in the Marine Corps, if someone's not performing well, punishment probably isn't the best way to motivate him or her; but you have to do something, because you're sort of stuck with that person. And that person's sort of stuck with you—a Marine can't just not show up for work one day.
And civilian bosses, generally speaking, don't want to train up someone, get to know that person, and then can him or her at the first sign of negligence.
In either case—civilian or military—you shouldn't have to use termination as a motivator.
I've spent a lot of time learning about change management and workplace culture. Some of that training came from the Marine Corps: We have to be able to motivate our troops without threat of punishment. I mean, you can only make a person do so many push-ups and paint so many rocks (Yup. Also a thing. Painted rocks are a well-loved feature of military landscaping.) before your next option is jail.
That seems a little extreme for not agreeing with your boss.
Fortunately, my boss had my back.
I think he realized that I made him look good. He was smart enough to look at the big picture and see how it applied across the board. So, when I had a Marine who disagreed, he backed me up.
But that's not enough. I had to show my subordinates how the changes would benefit them personally. I had to explain to them that, yes, it's going to make your life harder in the short run, but in the long run, this will benefit you and your family because you'll be home more. And you'll be healthier because you'll be working out more.
I'll get to that in a second.
Typically, about 90 percent will buy in to positive change like this. But the remaining 10 percent? That's hard. Sometimes, you just need to work on the education piece. You need to make sure they understand that you're not doing it just to be an asshole. Sometimes, you have to cheer them on. “Yup, it's going to be harder, but I know you're capable. I'll show you how.”
And, sometimes, you have to remind them that ultimately, it is the Marine Corps, and you have to do what you're told. We call that “pulling rank.”
My boss understood that if we improved recruits, we'd have less attrition. And, as I said, I proposed simple changes—it wasn't exactly a hard sell.
First, no more waivers for kids who were overweight, had committed felonies, or had not graduated from regular high schools. Our data clearly demonstrated attrition links for recruits with waivers for these issues.
I felt like waivers were often an easy way out for recruiters who—whether due to a skill deficit or laziness—weren't doing the work: Go out and find a kid who isn't super motivated but needs a way out,
