“Thus passes the glory of the world”is the final line in Ian Toll’s Six Frigates, a haunting truth written about the future of British naval power after the War of 1812.[1] Should the Navy stay the course it has been steering for the past 25 years, “Albion” would write the same of U.S. naval power. The service has become complacent in our maritime supremacy since the end of the Cold War, and let Leviathan’s tentacles of bureaucracy take too great a hold of the Navy. Unmatched in size, technology, reach, and influence for decades, the surface community has forgotten what it means to be part of a warfighting service. The Navy should not come right or come left to adjust course for the next 25 years, but take the rudder in hand or “soon will the rising greatness of [some] distant empire ([whose] distance is, perhaps, [irrelevant today]) astonish the nations who have looked on with wonder, and seen the mightiest efforts of [the United States], at the era of her greatest power, so easily parried, so completely foiled.”[2]

Administrative Minutia

The move toward business-like administration is not new, as Samuel Clemens said, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” Navies have a history of losing their salt when neither at war nor preparing for war.

Depression-era officers had been schooled in the virtues of parsimony, proper administrative channels, and meticulous execution of paperwork; and that was especially true among those who handled the navy’s money, equipment, and materials. Should they fail to account for every item or dollar consumed or spent, their careers would suffer. But on December 8, the service was overtaken by a collective sense that all of that must change.[3]

How different is this from the Navy, now? Accountants, lawyers, and politicians are the more ideal make-up of today’s officer corps than those similar to naval heroes such as Stephen Decatur. Seemingly every piece of equipment has a maintenance requirement card, technical publication, operational sequencing system, ship’s drawing, and standard item associated with it. Each of those documents falls under some apparently necessary program(s) such as gauge calibration, weight test, lube oil quality management, electrical safety, tag out, explosive safety, hazardous radiation, hearing conservation, sight conservation, heat stress, fall protection, etc.

But wait, each of those programs for that equipment requires an instruction. And if something requires a written instruction, then it clearly needs one from every level of command from the Department of Defense down to the individual unit. Then, every instruction cross references tens of other instructions that still cross reference others. And why bother with plagiarizing? Each commander must have his/her own say, even if it is just to change how some direction is worded. This causes confusion because instruction “A” says “X” but instruction “B” says “Y.” Each instruction outlines meticulous details for responsibilities, required training, reports, messages, maintenance, scheduling, assessments, and inspections, but the full requirements for any given program have to be found by scouring through these countless cross-referenced publications. Not only are these instructions required to be read, but also read on regular bases: annually, semiannually, quarterly, or monthly. The required readings of and familiarization with instructions is a full-time job. How can the Navy operate efficiently if it is constantly reviewing written instructions? This does not just apply to maintenance related programs, but warfare publications, personnel management programs, mandated collateral duty programs, messages (which often have more references than material), and the other daily tasks.

Then, of course, there is the tracking of these programs and pieces of equipment. Statuses often are tracked from the unit-work-center level to the highest levels of command, especially if there are discrepancies. If thingamabob on unit A is inoperable because there’s a bad O-ring, and that O-ring is not readily available in unit A’s supply system, then God forbid the admiral not be aware of that .25 cent O-ring, where it is, how it is getting to unit A, and when it is getting to unit A so that thingamabob can be repaired. So, the Navy builds trackers for that. Now, this O-ring is tracked in a job-writing system, a part-ordering system, unit A’s eight-o’clock reports, a casualty reporting (CASREP) system, and message traffic, each with its own special prioritization scale. All of this information then is transposed into spreadsheets at every command level with built-in formulas to inform those concerned when an update is due (even with no change in status). Each of these spreadsheets likely is duplicated by various persons at any given command, often in different formats. Next, that information is condensed and put into a PowerPoint, which is meticulously formatted to each commander’s personally preferred font type, size, and color, and briefed regularly. Once the O-ring is located, it has to be drawn, accounted for, shipped (coordinated with unit A’s location and schedule), accounted for, received, accounted for, distributed to the work center, accounted for, then thingamabob likely has to be tagged out, part installed, tagged back in, optested, and, finally, accounted for in the job-writing system, the CASREP system, message traffic, and all of the other material discrepancy trackers. Getting a .25 cent O-ring to unit A probably has a true cost orders of magnitude greater than its listed unit cost. Logistics aside, the administrative man-hours accumulated alone are daunting even in this perfect, single-part ordering scenario. This does not even include the trackers/processes for personnel, pay, GMTs, required readings, qualifications, ordnance, food, fuel, maintenance, etc. which all require their own inordinate amount of attention and their own specific accounting procedures.

The administrative minutia of the Navy is absurd. Disguised in the veils of safety and effective operation, the litigious nature of society has produced an unattainable level of written requirements for the practical sake of accountability. When discussed in forums with major commanders and above, the answer I have heard too many times (too many, in the fact, that it is several more than one) is “I/We know that there are too many requirements for you to accomplish all of them, even if you worked 24 hours each day. You have to prioritize those requirements.” Sounds great! But we are still held accountable for all of the requirements, even when leaders knows the requirements are too great.

The Navy needs to reduce the administrative burden it has placed on itself. Eliminate repetitive instructions and redundant programs—these only serve to increase the amount of reading required, and induce confusion. Identify when multiple instructions are absolutely necessary, and ensure they do not conflict by either plagiarizing commonality or, better yet, reducing the additional instruction(s) to only the difference(s) from the parent instruction. For tracking and accounting, a single program with common prioritization codes, categories, and formatting is possible; this applies to all databases for material, personnel, and programs. The service need better instructions and programs, not more, and the focus should be on programs that makes service members better war fighters, not better bean counters.

Training (Ashore)

Navy schools tend to be a joke. Check-in at 0800, have lunch from 1100-1200, and check-out by 1400, and don’t forget about the required 10 minute break every hour. We watch four hours of instruction (of course, NETC advertises eight) as mediocre sailors (with three weeks of instructor training) read from subpar PowerPoint lessons that were thrown together by a contracted company with no eye for practicality, or maybe even put together by the very same sailor giving the presentation.

Tests consist of multiple choice questions that come verbatim from slides 8–15. Slides 1–7 consist of a title slide, an instructor introduction, terminal objectives, enabling objectives, classroom policies, and emergency procedures (because we need to be reminded every lecture). Slides 16–20 are questions (likely on the test), a rehash of terminal and enabling objectives, and a questions/comments slide. Do not forget about required sea stories, which when combined with the aforementioned lesson structure significantly reduces time spent on thoroughly covering actual lesson material. Now, this training was supposed to last eight hours, but was completed in four, and we got far less than that of real beneficial material because of standard NETC lesson structure requirements.

Classroom materials other than PowerPoint . . . good luck, there is no funding. You can get hands on experience when you are in the operational fleet, where this school you’re at probably doesn’t count for any of your qualifications anyway. No one loves more the idea of having to learn one’s duties while simultaneously being held responsible for those duties. On-the-job training (OJT) is fantastic for learning the intricacies and nuances of one’s profession; however, OJT is detrimental for learning one’s profession outright. This is true because the latter forces you to learn your profession as a whole by solving individual problems, where each problem is new to you. It is like trying to put together a puzzle while finding the pieces via a game of scavenger hunts where each clue is a riddle and you are neither given how the final puzzle is supposed to be put together, nor how many pieces for which to look. The former method, however, provides you the tools, parts, and materials necessary to solve nuanced problems when they happen to arise. Yet, the Navy continues to favor and prioritize the more difficult option. The service forcing people into jobs instead of assigning sailors to the fleet.

Navy schools should be comprised of the best sailors with an aptitude for teaching who have been thoroughly screened. The Navy has too many good, knowledgeable sailors to be unable to accomplish this. Surely, there is a way to put the right sailor in the right job (“Right Marine for the right job” is a mantra at TBS in Quantico, VA). Some schools and instructors are great, but many need work. These schools have to be equipped with sufficient material (i.e. not just PowerPoint lessons) to properly train new sailors and sailors going to new assignments.

There are two necessary shore-based training improvements. The first mostly applies to surface warfare officers (SWOs), and the debate about being specialized or jacks of all trades. Those who favor specialization see that service members do not receive proper training for each individual billet he or she holds, but fail to see the necessity of being well rounded. Those who favor being jacks of all trades see necessity in being well rounded, but fail to realize that either they have probably been blessed with more competent subordinates throughout their career, or have unknowingly gotten away with many missteps throughout their career. What the Navy needs is a blend of these two models. Sailors need to be jacks of all trades with better billet specialty training. The best current model for this is Navigator school. This 2013-ish creation completely changed how the Navy prepared officers to be navigators, and has had some minor, but important, changes. The three most important aspects of this course of instruction include an appropriately taught depth of knowledge for all aspects of the job, a legitimately held strict standard of performance, and maybe most importantly putting senior enlisted quartermasters in same the course as the officers for whom they will work. This model must be replicated. For combat systems, certain technical training is available with a fairly strict standard, but severely lacks training for program management. Deck, operations, and weapons need extreme overhauling with regards to training provided to khaki leaders.

The second necessary development is a squadron of training ships. The recently decommissioned FFGs would have been perfect. Costly, yes, but the potential benefit is extraordinary. The Commodore could be post-O5 Command or post–major command, commanding officers (COs) and executive officers (XOs) could be early command options, department head’s could be made up of the best second-tour division officers, and the division officers are fresh out of BDOC ready to apply classroom knowledge to real-world scenarios in a training environment. The SEL’s would be command senior chiefs with newly anchored chiefs learning the khaki trade by leading top notch E-6’s and E-5’s with divisions and work centers filled by fresh A and C school graduates. What I am proposing is a whole-training-ship concept with key leadership positions filled by proven performers conducting only Tier-1 operations/requirements. The khaki receiving training could rotate to operational units after 12–18 months or so, and maybe the junior sailors receiving training rotate after 24 months. This may seem utopic, but I think something like this could both work and provide great long-term benefits for the whole community.

Training (Afloat)

The establishment of the Afloat Training Group (ATG) was a fantastic idea. Subject-matter experts (SME) would be billeted to a command specifically designated to provide continued training to operational units. They would come onboard and give expert advice to new sailors, and refresh the senior Sailors on any forgotten knowledge and/or provide guidance on any new changes. But this is what “trainers” do, not “assessors.”

ATG, unfortunately, has gotten a bad reputation. Mostly, it is because of how the Navy uses organization—as assessors. Yes, there is some training provided, but type commanders and immediate superiors in command use ATG visits as their certification arm for various programs and warfare areas. This is an organization that has a legitimate valuable purpose, but has been dual-hatted with counterproductive hats. This conflict of interest creates tension where there should be none. Instead of focusing on making sailors better operational warfighters, the focus is on pampering the assessors. Every detail of the unit’s schedule is tailored to support whatever ATG event is happening onboard; ATGs get their own space to work, outfitted with coffee, donuts, TV, computers, etc.; they are given coins, hats, lanyards, and patches, all of this in the hopes that treating them like royalty will result in favorable assessments of unit programs.

Though not set up for success, ATG (and other assessment entities) could also do better. A more robust vetting and/or internal training system for their billeted trainers/assessors is necessary. Too often it appears their SMEs are only relative experts, in that they may happen to be better versed in a program than the average sailor, but not as well as an assessor should be. The current model plays on a loop in that assessors return to operational units, but those operational units seemingly benefit little, if at all. The programs remain flawed, while the assessment is being conducted by the same “SME” who turned over the operational position with the “SME” that came from the assessment entity!

Of course, operational units are at fault, too. For one, they are not great at providing constructive feedback regarding legitimate required and/or conducted training. “Hit Alfa” is accompanied with a Class Alfa fire in the engineering log room, flooding in the port combat-information-center passage way from a six-inch crack in the firemain, a toxic gas leak from aft VCHT, and a single personnel casualty (laceration to the torso) in the admin office. Where is the 10’x10’ hole in the bulkhead, the crushed passage way, the missing personnel, etc.? The required “scriptedness” of drill packages inherently eliminates the chaos and randomness of actual casualties, and thus prevents us from conducting legitimate training. Trainings simply repeat the most basic casualties as if they are tailored to train Seaman Timmy for his first ever casualty. We accomplish the minimum to focus on the next administrative fire to put out. Why not put the unit in a training environment for days at a time? “Actual casualty” can still be called away to eliminate confusion. Induce as much spontaneity, randomness, and stress as possible, and have the response fail from time to time. The service will benefit more as warfighters from casualty response induced stress than stress induced from dotting every “i” and crossing every “t.” The Navy needs to eliminate the scripting of every minute detail, let the sailors react, and let the on station safety personnel be safeties instead of explicit scripted instruction from COs and XOs.

Conclusion

The Navy needs vast overhauls to afloat training, billet specialty training, instructor/assessor selection, and hard looks at new ways to train sailors fresh out of their accession sources while having that training actually correlate to qualifications. Some of these processes are already in motion, and even have some promising results with excellent models to mimic. However, overbearing administrative requirements and bureaucratic time sump processes must be reduced to a minimum.

The aforementioned bureaucracy takes hold of many facets of today’s Navy, and is a direct result of not having a naval near-peer competitor for decades. The service has no one to fight, so to justify its existence, the Navy fights Congress for funding with the weapons of bureaucracy: meticulous accounting and excruciatingly thorough over-egulation. Per the Constitution, Congress is mandated “To provide and maintain a Navy.” Obviously the Navy is still here, and now it needs to play its part by demanding the proper maintenance. It is an overly complicated process to make impactful changes, especially near term, and everyone knows “red tape” complicates task execution. However, where the Navy is and is continuing to go is layering “red tape” by answering seemingly every problem with more (instead of better) regulation and oversight, and every requested change with more review. The Navy cannot continue to operate this way, or soon it will be overtaken by a new world naval power.

[1] Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the U.S. Navy, Ian W. Toll

[2] Ibid. With author edits in brackets.

[3] Pacific Crucible: War at Sea in the Pacific, 1941-1942, Ian W. Toll