A Passion for Leadership (17 page)

Dealing with elected overseers is not for the queasy or pure of heart. The most important thing to remember is that only very rarely does anyone get all she wants from a legislature. Every interaction a leader has will be transactional, a negotiation, and she needs to have determined her priorities before going in—what she is prepared to concede, what compromises she is willing to accept. If a leader believes so strongly in the righteousness of what she has proposed that she is unprepared to compromise, if her approach is all or nothing, she will nearly always wind up with nothing. A good leader needs to have figured out what is the irreducible minimum she can live with, whether the issue is the budget, authority to do something new, or fighting off some legislative encroachment on executive authority. Ronald Reagan, often considered an ideologue, was in fact quite pragmatic when it came to Congress. If he could get 60 percent or so of what he wanted, he was content to ink the deal—and then come back for the rest later.

On the very rare occasion when an issue is of such vital interest to a public sector leader, whether on its merits or symbolically, that he cannot compromise, he can so indicate that by announcing his willingness to resign over the matter. But the issue had better be a big one where public opinion (and the media) are on his side and the politicians involved see personal consequences for them in provoking the resignation. This is high-stakes poker because the legislators probably couldn't care less whether a leader stays or goes. His potential departure has to be seen by them as politically costly. The threat to resign is usually a card that can only be played effectively once. And if things don't go the leader's way, he must quit. Failure to do so will leave a leader on the battlefield disarmed and without allies, totally ineffective.

A leader can strengthen his hand in dealing with elected overseers by allying with others—especially those seen as competitors or rivals—when there are common interests at stake. It always surprised legislators in Texas when the president of the University of Texas at Austin and I would work or testify together on a subject. And I was always helped when, both as DCI and as secretary of defense, I testified together with the secretary of state or other senior State Department officials. Legislators legitimately get frustrated with lack of interagency cooperation or when institutions engage in a dog-eat-dog fight for their own parochial interests. The politicos notice when the leader of a big institution argues publicly on behalf of another. My speech as secretary of defense in November 2007 calling for significantly more resources for the State Department and the Agency for International Development not only made a big splash at the time; it resounded through Congress for years to come. In dealing with legislatures, sometimes a leader can do his own cause a lot of good by supporting someone else's. Such “broad-mindedness” is so unusual—if not shocking—it almost always has a positive effect.

Mostly, I have been talking about techniques I have found useful in getting legislators to do what the leader of a public institution wants them to do—more often than not relating to money. But a leader will also face another kind of challenge with elected overseers: harebrained legislative ideas that have some public appeal but are potentially destructive to what the leader is trying to accomplish, contrary to sound management practices, or just plain stupid. On more than one occasion, self-anointed experts in Congress would push hard for specific kinds of impractical weapons systems or for unworkable changes in acquisition procedures. Stopping such proposals from gaining momentum and potential passage is sometimes complicated. I dealt with this sort of thing all too often—undesirable and often unworkable restrictions on operations, directives to buy certain kinds of equipment, legislative micromanagement. Blocking bad legislation is often as important as getting good things passed.

Other lawmakers are usually your strongest allies in blocking something odious from being enacted. There are countless ways in legislatures to derail bad ideas, and if you take the time to explain to the leadership and committee chairs the negative consequences of such proposals, those leaders will very often find a way to put the ideas on a procedural path to oblivion. This is especially true on under-the-radar issues, harder for high-profile ones. Members generally don't like to embarrass their colleagues, so this tactic needs to be used judiciously. But a reminder here: a leader must have previously cultivated a relationship of trust with those same leaders so they are inclined to take her concerns seriously.

Sometimes, bad ideas move forward in the legislative process. A leader will need to work with allies in the legislature to revise a bill in ways that render it harmless or manageable. Leaving implementation to the discretion of an executive at some level can neuter bad law. If circumstances allow, if the proposed legislation really shines and stinks in the moonlight, a leader can enlist the help of the media, editorial pages, and the commentariat in generating publicity (bad laws are usually pretty self-evident) and opposition.

It's tough dealing with elected officials. They are often not knowledgeable about the bureaucracies they oversee (or the businesses they seek to regulate), and their priorities—usually and above all getting reelected or moving up the electoral ladder—will frequently not coincide with any leader's. They may see a leader's institution simply as a pawn in the unending chess game of seeking political advantage—or as a competitor to other interests of greater importance to them. But to lead change effectively, one must play the legislative game.

Even if a leader can't stand the politicos, he must reach out to them anyway and paste on a smile when doing so because, in any public institution, he cannot succeed without their support.

Treat appointed oversight boards and regulators as you do legislators because they sometimes have even more direct authority to control or shape what you do.

A leader attempting to reform an institution must try to win the support—or at least acquiescence—of supervisory bodies. A leader who incurs their hostility could quickly find herself not just unable to effect change but out of a job. If a leader can't find ways to work with such overseers in good conscience, she must leave.

Leaders of bureaucracies must report to appointed boards of dizzying variety. They exist at every level of government. In the private sector, there is a broad array of regulatory bodies at every level of government, not to mention a company's board of directors. When I was DCI, in addition to Congress I reported to the President's Foreign Intelligence Advisory Board, the Intelligence Oversight Board, and various ad hoc panels set up by the president or Congress for specific purposes. At A&M, I reported to a board of regents (nine people appointed by the governor, confirmed by the Texas Senate), the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board, a regional board of accreditation, and others I have long since repressed. I actually had the fewest oversight boards as secretary of defense—just two advisory groups and the occasional ad hoc group appointed by the president or Congress to investigate or assess specific problems.

The quality of the people appointed to these oversight boards varies dramatically. As described earlier, over four and a half years I had some regents at A&M who were smart, well-informed, principled, selfless, and constructive. I had others who were political hacks, egotists, rude and bullying, ignorant of higher education, cowardly, and ethically challenged. On one occasion, a regent called on behalf of Governor Perry to lean on me to appoint a friend of the governor's as vice president for student affairs, a case of pure and inappropriate patronage as far as I was concerned. I told him a formal search was under way that comprised faculty, students, staff, former students, and others and that I would not bypass that process. I said that if the governor felt so strongly, he should send me his friend's résumé—under the governor's signature—and I would forward the package to the search committee and encourage fair consideration for the candidate. He never did so. The committee ultimately recommended, and I appointed, a professionally qualified person to the position. At their very next meeting, the regents changed the rules so that they would approve all such future appointments (and thus be able to respond to the governor's preferences). Incidentally, the VP for student affairs I appointed was hugely successful and very popular but was abruptly fired soon after I left to become secretary of defense. The governor's pal was quickly appointed to take his place.

This wide range of attributes and flaws of the board of regents was characteristic of virtually every appointed oversight board I worked with over several decades. It applies at the local level as well.

As with legislatures, leaders of bureaucracies must work with these appointed panels. Some, like university regents, have enormous power to control what the leaders reporting to them can do. Their control is exercised routinely and often extends to day-to-day operational matters: no aspect of the organization is beyond their purview. They are significantly more intrusive than legislatures, and there are far fewer procedural tactics to keep them from taking action. Appointed regulatory boards, similarly, can have enormous capacity to create problems for the private sector. The wise leader must work with such boards. To create goodwill (and room to maneuver), develop personal relationships, keep the regulators well-informed, be transparent and honest, and put the board members in contact with your best professionals. Listen to them.

The CIA director Bill Casey taught me an important lesson when it comes to listening, one that I found applied especially to such boards (and a broad range of other interlocutors as well). Most people, he told me, will listen to a speaker and if they disagree with part of what he or she says will reject everything said. Bill advised me not to focus on what I disagreed with but to see if there were one or two kernels of information or wisdom worth seizing on—finding a little wheat amid all the chaff. Just because 95 percent of what someone says is nuts, he would say, laughing, doesn't mean you should ignore the 5 percent that might be useful. (He was always handing me pamphlets or books to read, warning, “This guy is crazy, but there's an interesting idea on page
x.
”) The same principle applies to both legislators and appointed boards. Latching onto an overseer's idea will allow a leader to build rapport with that person and demonstrate he was actually paying attention, and, who knows, the idea might even be a good one.

A reform leader should view the media as important means for getting his message out to his own workforce and to the public about what he is trying to do.

A leader mustn't think in terms of “using” the media—which they will see through and resent—but rather, through access, transparency, and candor, educating them about the changes being made and why. This applies equally to local community journals and national television networks.

In both the public and the private sectors, there is an overwhelming propensity to see the media as a hostile force. I have a different view. From my earliest days as secretary of defense, I told senior military and civilian officials and even cadets and midshipmen at the service academies that “the press is not the enemy and to treat it as such is self-defeating.” Good reporting repeatedly alerted me to problems in the Department of Defense and on the battlefield that I would not have learned about otherwise. In each case, I publicly credited the press.

I advised senior officers that when their office was contacted by a journalist about a problem or investigative endeavor, they should not go into a defensive crouch or offer an immediate denial. Rather, first they were to find out for themselves whether the allegation or story was true. They were to get the facts. If the story turned out to be accurate, I urged them to acknowledge this publicly and indicate what they intended to do about the problem or situation. If the allegation were false, they would have the facts to prove it (as opposed to reacting immediately in ignorance). This is good advice for the private sector as well.

All that said, a call from a reporter, much less
60 Minutes,
can usually throw an entire organization into defensive chaos. Granted, there is often ample reason for such trepidation. Even at the national level and in the highest-quality outlets, outside a dedicated press contingent—such as at the Pentagon and the State Department—it is increasingly rare for reporters to be deeply knowledgeable about their beat. As issues become more complex, both public and private institutions have reason to worry about the quality of reporting on what they do. (When I was a member of the board of independent trustees for the Fidelity mutual funds, I was stunned at how little many reporters, even those writing for business and financial publications, understood about how the mutual fund industry works.) Sometimes it is because the reporter or the outlet has a hostile bias, but even more often it is concern about the reporter's skills—whether he can get the facts right. Journalists are offended when government departments or businesses hand out “fact sheets,” but the reality is that, without them, getting the statistics and facts of a specific matter correct often seems to be a challenge. (By the same token, the leader better make damn sure his fact sheet is accurate, comprehensive, and straightforward; too many are selective, misleading, or wrong.) At the local level, all too often someone who attended a school board meeting will not recognize the session from the write-up in the local paper the next day. When I am asked by a reporter if he or she can record an interview, my response has always been “Please do.”

And then, of course, there
is
the problem of bias. Virtually no cable channel or blog is viewed as objective, and many viewers and readers think the same of the national news networks and newspapers. Partly, I suppose, this is due to the growing penchant to only view or read sources that one agrees with. Leaders in both the public and the private sectors are justifiably concerned about whether their actions will be reported accurately and fairly.