Chapter 16 
Make the right decision the right way
Summer in Antarctica is all about the science; 84 scientists descend on a small patch of dirt at the bottom of the world to conduct their experiments, take readings and just do science stuff. Most of the scientists must get off station to perform this work. This is often a day trip, but sometimes they would be away for two, three or four days. Critically, they had to be transported to where the science work would take place. For some scientists, the work was conducted around the station, but for most, their science ground was 200 to 300 kilometres away.
Allocation of scarce resources
The transport mode of choice was air. We had two helicopters at our disposal and two specially modified aircraft were to arrive soon, having spent the winter back in Australia. Now, I'm no mathematician, but two four-seater helicopters and 84 expeditioners, all champing at the bit to get off station and count the penguins, doesn't compute, particularly when a round trip of 400 kilometres takes up most of the day.
So, as in most organisations, managing this was all about the appropriate allocation of scarce resources. The trick in managing scarcity is not just to make the right decision, but to be seen to make it the right way. People might be upset with the outcome, but if they understand the process they are more likely to accept it.
I went to a lot of effort to ensure our flight schedules catered for all the science teams. We had spent hours and hours on our way down working out flight plans, food drops and schedules. People were reasonably happy with the outcomes. Everyone would get to go off station to do their work. I had heard so much grizzling about perceived favouritism and some people getting more flight time than others that in exasperation I developed the Flight Board. It was a simple whiteboard divided up into quadrants with masking tape. Each section outlined who was flying today, and at what time, who was flying tomorrow and their expected departure time, and who was flying next week. The bottom quarter listed the incoming flights from other stations. It was like the departures board at any airport. Not revolutionary, but gee it helped. Having that transparency gave the scientists reassurance about who was getting flights and when. One of the team commented on my ‘brilliance’ in implementing such a useful tool. But it wasn't brilliance, it was self-preservation! They were doing my head in at times and the Flight Board stopped much of the niggling. All was good in our world.
Until the weather threw a spanner in the works.
The first few days of flights were perfect. They made good time, were incident-free, and the helicopters flew in no wind and bright skies. The station quietened right down. We had 20 or so people in the field, all doing their thing, and those on station were preparing for their field trips. Perfect! Then the Bureau of Meteorology scientists came in to see me one morning …
‘Boss, we've got a problem.’ (Why do some people start their bad news with that phrase?) ‘We've got a big system moving in from the west. It's got the lot — big winds and heaps of snow. Total whiteout.’
‘How long?’
‘It'll be here tomorrow and blow over in three days.’
We got our scientists back quick smart and strapped down the choppers. The blizzard came on time and hung around, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as expected. But we lost three days of science and the scientists didn't like it. Some were unhappy they had been pulled from the field; some were unhappy their flight wasn't going out that day; and some were worried they wouldn't get out on the ice on schedule the following week. It was the first instance of what would become a common dilemma. Antarctic weather changes faster than almost anywhere in the world, even Melbourne! Scientists can be intense at times, but imagine sharing a mess hall with 84 of them, all disgruntled! They understood the weather was totally outside anyone's control, but it didn't ease their fears that years and years of research might be at risk because of the ‘A’ Factor — the curve balls, mostly weather related, that Antarctica can throw at you, any time, any place.
Leadership style — you scratch my back …
I had two Deputy Station Leaders over summer, both of them experienced in Antarctic ways but both very different. I had already had a couple of heated discussions with one of them, but now he was seriously confounding me.
Ross was a firm believer in leadership by quid pro quo. If something needed to be done and the person didn't want to do it, his style was to offer something of equal value as a reward. He had a fantastic memory and somehow managed to keep track of ‘favours done’ and ‘allowances made’ stretching back to before our departure from Australia! It worked for him. He developed great relationships with the team and was the go-to person whenever you needed a favour done, such as a roster switch or help making your Kris Kringle present.
I firmly believed it was an unsustainable way to lead. People soon understand that no doesn't really mean no. It doesn't even mean not yet. In fact, there is no ‘no’. Instead, people he directed quickly learned to seek some compensation in response to even the simplest request. This would lead to quarrels about perceived inequity of favour versus reward, but it also caused other, bigger problems. The weaknesses of this approach were highlighted during the flight scheduling incident.
Like some other challenges I encountered in Antarctica, I was blissfully unaware of the flight scheduling problem until it was too late. Sitting in my normal spot at dinnertime I had four scientists approach me. I could tell by their body language that something was wrong. They stood over me as I was eating and I could feel the heat of their anger.
‘Boss, we need a word.’
I quickly grabbed my two Deputy Station Leaders, Howie and Ross. If we were going to fight, then three against four were slightly better odds. In the meeting room Dave, their spokesman, took the initiative. ‘This … this … bloke,’ he growled, pointing an accusing finger at Ross. ‘This bloke shouldn't be here.’ I bit my tongue and waited.
‘We've been bumped until next Saturday. If we don't get out on the ice this week there's no point in our having come to Antarctica in the first place!’
I had read about their science project and knew they needed to take three readings six weeks apart. If they missed this week, they would miss the window to get the first reading. To me, they were top priority and should be on the first chopper out of Davis once the weather cleared.
‘I'll sort it out. I'll come and see you in half an hour.’ As they left I turned to my deputies. ‘What's going on?’
‘Well,’ replied Ross, ‘I moved them because I thought three other projects were more important.’
As I delved deeper into the situation, I realised that, firstly, the other projects were not more important and, secondly, the other projects had been moved up the sequence as ‘favour returns’ for those scientists picking up extra shifts helping in the kitchen. It was their payback for helping out the team, but this simple ‘gesture of thanks’ had caused huge ructions.
Not only was the decision wrong, but the process for arriving at the decision was wrong. To someone on the outside of the trading and swapping, it was favouritism and nepotism rolled into one — a sure recipe for discontent.
Saturday 18th December
Ross continues to confuse me. He is a wonderful person, very kind and caring, but his leadership style is vastly different from mine. He thinks the way to get people to do what you want is to promise a favour in return, to offer them an incentive. He doesn't see how this approach actually creates conflict and is unsustainable.
I'll sit with him tomorrow and work through the incident and talk about how his decision actually created the problem.
The scientists are mostly all happy again, time-critical science is going to get done, which is the important thing from my perspective. There are a few grumbles from people who have been ‘un-bumped’ but I spent some time with them explaining that ‘our’ decision was incorrect. I'm conscious of openly showing leadership solidarity and taking one for the team, but that doesn't make it any easier.
A Chinese welcome
Davis Station is one of four Australian research stations in Antarctica. It's the furthest south and houses the largest number of scientists over summer. But in size it pales in comparison to the American bases. Where Davis has up to 120 expeditioners on station in summer, McMurdo Station houses up to 1000. Serviced by three airstrips and 100 buildings, McMurdo even has hairdressers and an ATM! There's nothing like free enterprise. We, by comparison, had no use for cash because there was nothing to buy. We were partly envious of McMurdo. They appeared to have all creature comforts on hand, including three TV channels (a US military channel, an Australian channel and a New Zealand channel) and broadband internet.
Along with Australia and the USA, a surprisingly large number of nations have permanent research stations in Antarctica. All the usual Western suspects, such as the UK, Germany, Japan and France, are represented. In addition, many Eastern and emerging economies are present — China, India, Russia and Romania to name a few. Just around the corner from Davis Station are the Chinese at Zhongshan, operated by the Polar Research Institute of China.
Pretty soon we were getting requests for visits from neighbouring stations. Our closest neighbour called at 9.45 am one morning with a request. The Chinese were bringing in a patient with diarrhoea and trouble urinating. We didn't have much to go on other than that, so we prepared a stretcher team and had Doc and the anaesthetics team at the ready. I was stuck in the green store so sent Jason out to greet the chopper.
Jason was our summer plumber from country NSW. He was down-to-earth and a bit of a knock-about kind of bloke, and he took the role of welcoming our first international visitors very seriously. The chopper landed just as I left the green store and I hustled out to meet them. From 50 metres away I could hear Jason. He was speaking very loudly, very slowly and using lots of hand movements.
‘HI, I'M JASON. I'M. THE. PLUMBER.’ (I would ask the reader to picture the appropriate hand movement to indicate plumbing — maybe he was pulling a large wrench.) ‘I. MAKE. THE. WATER. YOU KNOW? WATER … TO DRINK.’ (Again, picture a hand turning a tap, filling a glass and raising it to his lips.) By then I had nearly arrived and saw one of the funniest things from the expedition.
Jason continued loudly: ‘I MAKE THE WATER. WHAT DO YOU DO?’
The first person to step forward and greet Jason looked very distinguished. He was dressed in a sparkling clean, bright red tunic emblazoned with the PRIC logo (unfortunate acronym). He bent forward from the waist, straightened up, smiled and said in a beautifully cultured English accent: ‘Hello Jason, my name is Dr Lee. I am a professor of glaciology leading the research into the environmental processes that affect the rifting and calving of icebergs on the Amery Ice Shelf. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.’
We fell about laughing and before long the Chinese and finally Jason joined in. As we walked back to the station, I put my arm on his shoulder and said, ‘Jase? Rule number one?’
‘Yeah’, he replied, smiling sheepishly. ‘Never assume. Got it!’
Sunday 5th December
This is meant to be a day of rest but I'm exhausted!
The Zhongshan team arrived and Jason set the tone of the day. What a cracker! The patient turned out to have a bladder infection but they were worried because he is their trip leader for their traverse to Dome A, which leaves tomorrow. We fed them and they entertained us.
They ate fishcakes with apple, tried every sauce we had on station, ate heaps of lettuce and mopped their plates up with lettuce leaves. They must be short of fresh veggies already. Our supplies are planned to run out in about February to coincide with resupply and the return of the summerers to Australia.
We lent them a starter motor for their other chopper, which was out of action. The plan was they would use it for a week and then return it but I got a fax saying they were keeping it until the 20th January! Apparently the Chinese are the Homer Simpsons of Antarctica, borrowing and not returning items.
But it was an entertaining day and a bonus of being at Davis rather than the other stations that don't have the international interactions.
Somehow I've lost track of how many expeditioners I have. People are flying in all the time from other stations and flying out to the field. Last count I had 68 on station and 30(ish) in the field.
What I learned
- Resource allocation must be transparent. It's not enough to make the right decision. We need to be seen to make it the right way. People might be upset with the outcome, but if they understand the process they are more likely to accept it.
- Leadership means accountability. When you're the leader, you're it. When things go wrong you take full responsibility, even if it isn't your fault. If your people make the wrong decision but have followed the correct procedures, applied due diligence and had good intentions, then you must back them, even if they got it wrong. If they get it right, give them all the credit anyway!
- Innovation requires safety. Doing things in a new way is more likely to fail than doing things the old way. Make sure your workplace values failure as a learning opportunity as much as success. If people are too scared to take a risk because they think they'll suffer if it doesn't work out, your people will never innovate.