Pokemon and the Future of Reality

This week, for the first and I hope only time, I stood in front of my Sailors at an all-hands call and talked about Pokemon Go.  If you had asked me during Command Leadership School to make a list of all the things I might discuss at quarters with my squadron, the topic of Pokemon would certainly not have crossed my mind.

For those unfamiliar, Pokemon Go is a game played via smartphone.  Using the camera, geo-location, and gyro-scope functionality of the phone, players walk around collecting Pokemon characters that "appear" at various real-world locations.   The more characters you collect, the higher you get in the game.  (And, of course, there are in-app purchases)

I raised the topic to the Sailors I work with in order to lay some ground-rules on when and where the game can and cannot be played.  As you might imagine, there are concerns about an app that takes control of the camera and geo-location features of someone's phone for a game that might potentially be played in restricted or sensitive areas.  The app collects a ton of data; the security and application of such information is not fully understood.   In an age where ISIS is creating hit-lists from harvested open-source social media, and we in turn are targeting them via their own geo-tagged twitter posts, Pokemon Go becomes one more vulnerable aperture in the cyber domain.  Additionally, individuals playing Pokemon Go can lose situational awareness of the world around them, creating significant safety concerns.  And then there is the effect it can have on professional behavior in the workplace.

Despite my concerns as a military commander for the potential risks and vulnerabilities, I am also struck by the incredible potential of such augmented reality.  When paired with a more advanced viewing apparatus, the ability to overlay virtual threats or situations onto actual locations during live training events represents the direction we need to be headed with military training, provided we address the previously discussed operational security concerns.    The technology demonstrated by Pokemon Go brings scalability and efficiency that must be explored as we seek to better leverage the full spectrum of live, virtual and constructive training.

Beyond the military application of such technology, imagine the educational and cultural potential. You could visit Gettysburg, climb Little Round Top, and instead of trying to visualize the 20th Maine's audacious bayonet charge, you could watch virtual soldiers overlaid on the actual landscape you are standing on.  When touring a new city, the downtown area could "come alive" with cultural facts and historical characters.   Or when taking in a sporting event, you might be able to see scores, statistics and other relevant info without taking your eyes off the action.

I love the full-circle nature of this.  It was government that drove the innovation and development of the internet and GPS, the infrastructure and framework that Pokemon Go is built upon.  Now the public sector can benefit from the advances in augmented reality made by private industry.  We are seeing similar effects of this symbiotic synergy in the transportation field, whether it's space travel, high-speed mass transit, or self-driving cars.   Despite what we are continually told by our presidential candidates and my own concerns about societal unraveling, we truly live in an amazing time.  Fraught with peril, to be sure, but also full of incredible possibility.  I can't wait to see what the next few decades will bring.

Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense

Play Your Heart Out

A little over a year ago, I celebrated Independence Day at Osan Air Base in South Korea.  The  51^st Fighter Wing put on a terrific 4^th of July Celebration, with food booths, informative displays, and live entertainment.  One of the performing acts was Alien Ant Farm, a nü-metal band best known for their 2001 cover of Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal.”

Although Alien Ant Farm’s type of music is not particularly in my wheelhouse, I enjoyed the show.  The band put forth a ton of energy and clearly enjoyed performing for the crowd.  At some point, it struck me: they didn’t have to play to that level.   This was a USO show for a relatively small crowd.   They most likely were going to pick up only a handful of new fans (if any) and have no real measurable increase in album sales due to this gig.

But none of that mattered.   Alien Ant Farm meet the definition of true professionals. They approach their work with a level of focus, energy and enthusiasm that does not vary based on the payoff or who is watching.  They performed in Osan as if this it was the Grammys or a Super Bowl halftime show. And they constantly seek to hone their craft, no matter where they are in the arc of their career. 

As leaders, we seek inspiration from a variety of sources.  The experience of watching Alien Ant Farm play their hearts out for us, and execute a flawless set, resonated with me.   Like the band, I get paid to do the job I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid.  Yet sometimes complacency slips in, the urge do the minimum required to fly safely and log the hours instead of ensuring we’re executing the most realistic and demanding training possible that day.   Or in my daily interactions with Sailors, I don’t always bring forth the enthusiasm I could and miss another chance to motivate and inspire.      

It shouldn’t matter if it’s a local training hop, a Red Flag event, or a combat sortie.  It shouldn’t matter if it’s a conversation in the passageway, a five-minute talk at squadron quarters, or a Change of Command speech.   I can always do better.   Fifteen months is a short amount of time to make an impact on an organization.  Every day, every flight, every conversation matters.  

Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense

A Week Like This

 On July 5th, Alton Sterling was shot and killed in Louisiana by Baton Rogue police as they had him pinned to the ground.   The next day police in St. Paul, Minnesota shot and killed Philando Castile during a traffic stop.   On July 7th, at an event in Dallas protesting the two killings, a man systematically targeted and killed five police officers, in addition to wounding seven other officers and two civilians.  It was the deadliest single-day for American law enforcement since September 11th, 2001.

I'm not sure there is a way to "make sense" of a week like this.

I want to first start by making clear that there is no moral equivalency to the events I just outlined. The attack in Dallas was cold-blooded murder by a man intentionally targeting law enforcement officials.  His despicable actions took the lives of five public servants and endangered dozens of peaceful protestors.   The shootings in Louisiana and Minnesota are incredibly tragic and it will be some time before we know all the facts, but I approach it from the assumption that the police involved acted with the intention of protecting themselves and bystanders.  In that assumption, I admittedly bring forward the bias of my own perspective and experience.

Law enforcement, like military service, is an incredibly demanding job that requires great sacrifice in terms of hours worked, exposure to dangerous conditions, and a level of compensation not commensurate with the demands and risks involved.  I have the greatest respect for those brave men and women that choose this line of work, a group that includes close friends and family members.

But saying that the police may have felt they had need and reason to protect themselves does not by itself justify the killings or absolve them of responsibility.  High levels of risk do not mean you can shrug your shoulders and say, "Tragic events will happen in high-stress situations." Although we must wait for the investigations for these particular incidents before we pass judgement, we should always remember that in these situations, the onus is on the police to remain calm, clearly communicate instructions, and only escalate force to a level appropriate to the assessed threat.  Recent trends indicate that numerous local law enforcement agencies must make greater strides toward better training and greater professionalism within their ranks, such as those outlined by retired Detective Mike Conti of the Massachusetts State Police in a recent BBC interview (starts at the 7:15 mark).  It's a demanding job, and not everyone is going to have the character traits to be poised in extreme circumstances.  Better to find that out during the qualification process than on the streets.

Ultimately, we must reduce the level of violence in this country.  It runs a spectrum, from mass shootings and the assassination of police officers to tension-filled traffic stops and Walmart brawls. We are a long way from Alexis de Tocqueville's America.  Our civil society is unraveling.  Despite unprecedented levels of connectedness thanks to personal technology and social media, we are stove-piped and vacuum-sealed into the comfort zones of our own perspective.  We are hyper-partisan and have lost the ability to seek and find compromise:  on gun control, on criminal justice approaches, on combatting poverty, on education reform...on a whole host of policy questions that could help us become the best possible version of our great nation.

How do we reach such compromise?  I have some thoughts, but that's a whole other post...

Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense 

Instilling Traits and Values: Starting With the End in Mind

I wrote in a previous post that one of the ways my military career has influenced my parenting is the idea of “starting with the end in mind.”[1] For military professionals, the planning process cannot begin until you have a clearly defined end state.   Or in the words of a mentor of mine, “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.”

When my oldest was not yet a year old, I was at sea on my third deployment and communication with my wife was limited primarily to email.  Although such a constraint can feel like a hindrance, it also opens up avenues to deeper discussion than verbal conversation.   Case in point, we began an email thread in which we shared our thoughts on what kind of adults we wanted our daughter (and future children) to be when they grew up.   In a very real sense, by agreeing on certain character traits that we sought for them, we were establishing “end states” for the important work of instilling values in our children.   The consensus we reached would serve to inform many of the choices we make as parents.   It is a conversation that my wife and I continue to have as we hone the list and adapt our parenting strategies to account for our children’s varied personalities.

Ultimately we came up with the following list of traits:

-Culturally and spiritually literate and tolerant. The educator E.D. Hirsch defined cultural literacy as  “that shifting body of information that our culture has found useful…the foundation of our public discourse.  It allows us to comprehend our daily newspapers and news reports, to understand our peers and leaders, and even to share our jokes.[2]  As an example, once my daughter began reading about Greek and Roman Mythology, she enjoyed the “Percy Jackson” series at a much more profound level and understood why the NASA craft currently in Jupiter’s orbit would be named “Juno.” Ultimately, we want our children familiar with as much culture as possible, including the world’s religions.  Such familiarity we hope will breed tolerance vice contempt.    

-Able to think for themselves.  This is the step beyond cultural literacy.  In the words of Hirsch, “Cultural literacy is shallow; true education is deep.” [3]  We try to encourage critical thinking.  Sometimes this involves answering a question with another question.  (“Why do YOU think it gets cold in the wintertime?”)  When discussing topics such as politics and religion – which we don’t shy from – we often suppress our own opinions, or at least make clear distinctions between facts and personal opinions.

-Confident in their values, morals, and decisions.  This might be the toughest yet most important quality to instill.  Being a “navy brat” and having to adapt to new situations can lead to a chameleon-like qualities.  How do we prevent that?  I have no easy answers.  We try to model appropriate behavior and give our children opportunities to make the types of mistakes that build confidence.  Even before they get to the wider socialization at school, we work to ensure our children, in their interactions with siblings and peers, can strike the balance between cooperation and standing up for themselves. 

-Willing to respectfully question authority.  With confidence instilled, we want our children to then be comfortable in speaking truth to power.   (That includes to their parents.) The other night, my daughter and I were watching “The Martian.”   There is a great scene where the mission director must make a choice between doing what he thinks is right or obeying the direction provided by his boss.   I paused the movie, and we had a lengthy discussion about when it’s acceptable to question and even disobey authority.

-Intellectually curious.  This can’t be forced.  Instead, it’s a spark that must be lit through a variety of activities: reading to them, taking them to museums, asking questions.   One method that’s proven successful for us is linking current popular culture interests with wider intellectual topics.  For example, Harry Potter and Star Wars can lead to a discussion of archetypes and why so many great stories include similar characters, like the wise wizards represented by Dumbledore and Obi Wan Kenobi. 

-Equally comfortable in the outdoors and in the city.  Whether navigating a hiking trail or a subway system, both environments require specific survival skills.  My wife, born and raised in Philadelphia, handles instilling “street smarts”, while I rely on my scouting and military experiences to show them how to use a map and compass or build a campsite. 

-Competitive but sportsmanlike.   This transcends participation in sports, and builds on the previous discussion of confidence.   We want them to shine as individuals, but never at the expense of the team.  To always strive for greater improvement but within the framework of fair play.    

-Hard Workers.  There is a tendency, when we talk about “talent”, to assume that at a basic level, you must be initially good at something to eventually be great at it.  Instead, we want our children to understand that even if a skill or activity (math, swimming, playing an instrument) doesn’t come naturally to them, it doesn’t mean they can’t eventually master it. We foster this by how we give praise (“You worked so hard” vs. “You did so well”) as well as discussing times in our own lives when we had to work hard to overcome a lack of ability.

-Willing to embrace failure and learn from mistakes.  This is closely related to the previous discussion about work ethic.  A fear of failure might prevent them from trying, and becoming, whatever they want.   This is tough, because as parents we spend a lot of time correcting our children and pointing out mistakes.   Much of this is necessary for their development (and basic survival).   However, I know I can do a much better job of giving my kids the space they need to make mistakes and learn from them.   (This applies to leadership at work as well)

-Successful. This has nothing to do with income or status.   It means achieving whatever occupation or vocation they want, as long as it's honest work and it gives them fulfillment.

Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense

[1] See Stephen Covey, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People

[2] Hirsch, E.D., et al, The Dictionary of Cultural Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know, (1988), ix.

[3] Ibid, xv.

Our Fragile Democracy

A few weeks ago, my daughter asked me a really fascinating question: “You said the colonies started the American Revolution because they were being taxed without having representatives in the British government.  What if the British had just let us have representatives?”[1]

The question opens up a great deal of possibilities.  Parliament, in ceding that the Colonies deserved representation, could have potentially quenched the flames of rebellion that sparked during the Stamp Act Riots in 1765.   Would we then have gained independence later, in a more peaceful and deliberate process, in the manner of Australia and Canada?  Would Canada and the Thirteen Colonies have merged into one nation during such a process?  What impact would a delayed independence have had on Manifest Destiny?   Once the French lost Haiti to a slave revolt and therefore no longer needed New Orleans, would they have been equally willing to sell the Louisiana territory to their rivals in Great Britain as they were to sell it to President Jefferson?  (Without the American Revolution, would there still have been a revolution in either France or Haiti?)

Or would the colonists still have found reason to revolt?   Perhaps allowing representation would have simply delayed the inevitable.  Yale law professor Akhil Reed Amar writes, “Not that colonists really wanted direct representation in Parliament.  A small number of Americans amid a sea of British legislators would likely be consistently outvoted.  Moreover, those few colonial representatives…might easily lose a sense of connection with their constituents when living in a grand imperial city an ocean away…[and] might ultimately become part of the problem rather than the solution.” [2]

In all likelihood, the Colonists would have had additional grievances with British rule, beyond “Taxation without Representation”.  But would such complaints have resonated as well with the average colonial?  Would they have equally tipped the precarious balance of risk vs. reward that every colonist had to consider during the revolution? 

I’m a big believer in the idea that history is not predetermined by large impersonal forces, that it hinges on contingency and individual agency.[3]  The independence and freedom we celebrate today was never a sure thing.   The British Army had numerous opportunities to defeat the rebellion on the battlefield.  Once we gained our independence, the shape of our government could have very well taken a different form.   The Constitution, as drafted, barely passed the ratification process amidst highly partisan debate.  

   

Our Nation, our form of representative democracy, has always been an experiment unlike any other.   Today we celebrate not just a decision made in 1776, but all the choices we’ve made along the way to ensure the survival of our fragile democracy.    

 Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense

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[1] Perhaps this interest in alternative histories has sprung from the episodes of “Voyagers” that I introduced her to.  Or maybe because her brother has been watching “Mr. Peabody and Sherman” on constant repeat. 

[2]  Amar, Akil Reed, America’s Constitution: A Biography (2005): 40.

[3] Schuyler, Robert Livingston. "Contingency in History." Political Science Quarterly 74, no. 3 (1959): 321-33.

The Great Unraveling

On Thursday, the citizens of the United Kingdom chose, by a slim majority, to withdrawal from the European Union.   Prime Minister David Cameron agreed to the referendum due to mounting pressure from members within his own Conservative Party, who chafed at the various rules imposed by the EU and viewed the costs of membership (monetary and otherwise) as outweighing the benefits.  Of particular salience was the desire to regain control of the Great Britain’s borders, especially with regard to economic migration.  

Cameron supported Britain’s remaining in the EU.  Yesterday he made the painful decision that he could no longer lead the UK, given the newly established mandate.  He agreed to step down as Prime Minister by the fall.  His concession speech was remarkable for its grace and humility, at great contrast to the whining petulance we often hear from U.S. politicians when their agenda does not succeed. 

And yet despite the fact that this vote occurred overseas and under parliamentary processes, there are significant parallels to U.S. politics. 

First and foremost are the similarities between the arguments made by the “Vote Leave” campaign and the strains of populism, nationalism, and isolationism that the Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders campaigns have both harnessed.   There is a vast distrust of globalization from both sides of our political spectrum.   Trump specifically has gained support from working class voters whose wages have stagnated over the last decade, whose job prospects have diminished due to automation and global trade, and who feel that the policy elites in their own party have ignored them for too long.

The “Vote Leave” campaign was noticeable in its rejection of economic experts, who foretold of grave consequences for British and global markets. [1]   This mirrors a disturbing trend in American discourse, as politicians and voters alike dismiss expert opinion, whether on climate change, foreign policy, or the safety of immunizations and genetically modified food. 

Second is the unreliability of polls.  Prior to the vote, the polling data suggested a win by the “Remain” camp.   Yet the numbers indicate that likely “Exit” voters were less likely to answer candidly when asked face-to-face or via phone call than when they responded to anonymous Internet surveys.  A similar dynamic is at work with potential Trump voters, calling into question the current lead that Clinton holds in national polls.   Further,  “Vote Leave” gained victory despite a divided UK Conservative party.   Democrats in the U.S. who assume that the disarray in the Republican Party will automatically translate into electoral defeat may be dismayed come November. 

Finally, the Brexit vote once again demonstrates the perils of direct democracy in the form of voter referendums.[2]   By their very nature, such ballot questions must distill complex policy considerations with into grossly simplified yes or no questions.  ("Should I Stay or Should I Go?", to quote the Clash.)

The irony is that such a simply stated choice will ultimately result in an extremely complex policy process.  Withdrawal in and of itself will be a two-year process.  But beyond that, the UK must now renegotiate the myriad policy agreements that were painstakingly worked out over decades of integration into the EU.   Scotland, whose population overwhelmingly voted to remain in the UK, will see its independence movement reenergized.   Voters in Northern Ireland demonstrated a similar preference and may very well seek to reopen the discussion of reunification with the south.   Whether that would ultimately be a peaceful process remains to be seen. 

Robert Wright, in his powerful book “Non-Zero: The Logic of Human Destiny”, writes that even as the world grows complex, we experience- at the personal and national level- a drive toward greater cooperation and problem solving that is inherent in the cultural evolution of the human species.  Ultimately it was up to the voters of Great Britain, and well within their rights, to determine the cost-benefit analysis of staying within the EU.  But it certainly feels like a large step back from the forward progress of global integration and cooperation that’s occurred over the last century, a process that in the aggregate has been overwhelmingly positive.  Time will tell if the “Brexit” vote will lead to a greater global unraveling.   I for one certainly hope not.   

Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense

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[1] The British pound has subsequently crashed to its lowest levels in 31 years

[2] California Proposition 8 is an obvious example. Madison’s classic “Federalist No. 10” remains the quintessential treatise on the benefits of representative democracy. 

Casting Stones

Last month, a boy climbed into a gorilla enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo, resulting in the staff having to make the difficult but ultimately correct decision to kill a gorilla in order to save the child.   More recently, an alligator killed a boy in Florida while he and his family played in a man-made lake. Many commentators have expressed the opinion that the parents of both children are to blame, and that the mother in Cincinnati should be held criminally responsible for the death of Harambe the gorilla, because she failed to properly monitor her child.

I will be the first to state that parents in America need to step up their game and pay more attention to their children, but I was relieved that no charges would be filed against the mother in Ohio.  Parents make mistakes, even the best-intentioned ones.   I know from personal experience.

Two years ago, on a late spring evening, my family and I were eating dinner.   Five of us were at the table, but our oldest son was in the playroom at the front of the house.  He has autism, and although in almost everything else we hold him to the same standards as his siblings, when it comes to dinnertime we let him come and go from the table.  (There are many battles we wage to further his development.   This is not one of them).   We could hear him playing and singing along to the show he was watching.  As my wife and I got caught up on our respective days and coaxed the younger two to eat, we eventually noticed that it had gotten quiet in the playroom.  (As a parent, you want noise to stop, yet become anxious as soon as it does…)   I went to check and noticed he wasn’t there.  Nothing unusual at this point.  He’s probably upstairs.

After checking his room and the backyard, we began to get worried.   We started roaming the house and calling for him, more and more urgently.   That’s when we noticed that the window screen in the playroom was ajar.  Despite a device we installed on the window to prevent it from opening too far, he was able to squeeze through the space and pop open the screen.  

I suggested that my wife keep searching the house while I scanned around outside.   He was not in the front or side yard.  Not in the neighbor’s backyard.  I have experienced the sickening feeling of dread before, but nothing like this. It was as if I had swallowed a kettlebell, juxtaposed with the light-headed panic arcing through my brain.

While my wife got on the phone to call police and ask for friends to help search, I began driving around the neighborhood in an ever-widening spiral until I was convinced I had surpassed a radius he could have reasonably traversed in that period of time.  No one I stopped to talk with had seen a young boy walking on his own. 

As I drove around, multiple thoughts took up an uneasy co-existence in my head.  First, I was confident we could find him.  We’d always lived an unremarkable life.  These types of crises just didn’t exist in our world.  Second was a horrible brainstorm of all the possible scenarios in which my son could have found himself (lost, injured, god-forbid abducted).  And third was a selfish, back-of-the-mind understanding that if we didn’t find him, we would never again have a day of happiness for the rest of our lives.

No court fine or prison time or social-media parent-shaming can compare to the horror and anguish the parents in Ohio and Florida experienced as they helplessly watched their children in danger.  The father who had to fight an alligator in a vain attempt to save his son will probably never be the same man again. 

We were lucky.  Our story had a happy ending.  We found our son, after a half-hour of panicked searching, in our neighbor’s house.  They were out running errands, but left the backdoor unlocked.   Apparently he really wanted to play their piano and use their bathroom.   We have since made significant modifications to the security of our windows and doors.

Parents make mistakes.  The mother at the zoo took her eye off her child.  The father in Florida clearly had no idea the lake at a Disney resort might contain a wild animal.  These were clearly acts of omission, not commission.  This is not a case of parents purposefully abusing or neglecting a child.  They did not drive drunk with the child in the backseat, or leave him in a parked car on a hot day in order to shop in peace.   

Let’s leave these parents alone and allow them to deal with their grief and trauma.  Had my story turned out differently, I would have wanted the same.

Any and all opinions are solely my own and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense