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Don’t Speak for the Boss Unless He Asks or Knows

Everyone has an ego—small, medium, or large. It’s the large ones that tend to get in the way of good sense. They exceed their boundaries, and when they do that, they don’t play well to the masses. This can become particularly problematic when a “full of himself” subordinate develops an air of importance that goes over the top.

That can happen in the workplace if the boss fails to place limits on those who have decision-making responsibilities on his or her behalf. It can also happen if the junior in rank simply chooses to ignore what he or she is told or is expected to do. Who loses? The boss does if he or she hasn’t checked what’s being said or done. The organization loses because the lack of constraints or controls can cost money, image, or reputation.

When actions go beyond the limits of guidance, they can be seen or caught if there’s a system for diagnosis or evaluation. If it’s a matter of words rather than deeds, that’s more difficult to diagnose or detect unless it’s a front-page story that catches one’s eye.

You may be able to get away with having misspoken if it’s at the local level and it appears in print only once if at all. At the state level, if you are out ahead of the boss with your statement, the story may last a day or two. At the national level, the attention drawn and the stir created can cause havoc for a good stretch of time.

We had just returned from the first of several trips to Saudi Arabia in the wake of Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Kuwait on August 2, 1990. His army, the world’s sixth largest at the time, had easily occupied neighboring Kuwait, and President George H. W. Bush took exception. He offered to come to the aid of a U.S. ally and its people. The United States asked the royal family if we could station U.S. military personnel in their kingdom, which borders Kuwait and Iraq. They agreed, and we had just visited the first wave of troops stationed in that country.

On the morning after our return, which was Sunday, September 16, 1990, I strolled to my driveway to get the morning paper. It was warm and sunny; it felt nice to be home. That is, until I unfolded my copy of the Washington Post and stopped dead in my tracks. There on the front page was a story describing remarks by the U.S. Air Force chief of staff, General Michael J. Dugan, to reporters on extensive flights aboard a dedicated U.S. Air Force plane to and from Saudi Arabia the week before.

According to the article, he had revealed to the journalists accompanying him on the trip that the Iraqi air force had very little capability and that its army was incompetent. Furthermore, he announced that the U.S. military had plans “to bomb Baghdad relentlessly and ‘decapitate’ the Iraqi leadership by targeting Hussein personally, along with his family, his senior leaders, his palace guard and even his mistress.”

No sooner had I finished reading the piece than my home phone rang. “Did you see the Post piece on Dugan?” asked my boss. “Yes, sir,” I replied. “What did you think?” asked General Colin L. Powell, chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “I think he got out in front of his headlights,” was my response.

“Call your buddies in the air force and ask them how and why this happened,” he directed. It took only one phone call to get the answer. An air force officer who had been on the trip with Dugan said his boss had sat for considerable time with reporters from the Post, the Los Angeles Times, and Aviation Week & Space Technology. Five other air force generals on the trip also participated in the “far too long” interviews on both legs of the trip.

“What was he thinking?” I asked. My colleague did not attempt to defend his boss. Sounding dismayed, he said aides to the secretary of defense had discouraged the air force chief from taking reporters along. He personally had warned his chief against speaking to them for so long. Both to no avail.

When I called General Powell back with what I had learned, he asked me to find out where Dugan was at that moment because he wanted to speak with him. He also revealed that Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney was none too happy with the “loose-lipped” account of things said.

My air force source told me his boss was in Florida visiting a military unit. When I conveyed that to the chairman, he told me the secretary was taking a walk along the canal in Washington, D.C., to sort this out. Cheney’s pondering jaunt didn’t seem like a particularly good sign to me.

The next morning around 7:45 the chairman summoned me to his office to advise me that Cheney had consulted with President Bush and that they had concluded that General Dugan had shown “poor judgment at a very sensitive time.” General Powell then told me that at 8 a.m. that day the secretary intended to fire Dugan.

He would not be the first top general in history to be dismissed, but it was still a big deal. President Truman had ousted General Douglas A. MacArthur in 1951, but in more contemporary times it was unprecedented. Yet this simply was another time and another moment when national-security considerations trumped bravado.

For me the lessons were many. Certainly know where your position is in the proverbial chain of command. Know what you can and should say about issues of high importance, in this case a war plan that had the highest degree of classification in military circles. Think about the consequences of what you’re saying, who you’re saying it to, and who ultimately will hear your words and decide their impact.

Yes, there was ego involved. Yes, General Dugan had been exhilarated by what he saw when he visited troops and facilities in Saudi Arabia. But to speak on behalf of what amounted to the national command authority was a bridge too far. He hadn’t been asked to do so; in fact, he had been discouraged from doing what he did. He didn’t even have the sense or courtesy to tell his many bosses—the secretary of the Air Force, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the secretary of defense, and the president—what he either intended to do or had done.

In times like these, and there will be times like these at every level and in every sector, there needs to be a standard of judgment that stands above jurisdiction. Author Andrew J. Holmes provided such a yardstick when he said, “It is well to remember that the entire population of the universe, with one trifling exception, is composed of others.”

Yes, strive to achieve positions of importance and influence as best you can in your professional life. But remember that you are only one person on the road of life and you needn’t run over people with who you are and what you believe.