Good Managers Despise Brown-Nosers

I had told my drill sergeant exactly the wrong thing.  When he had inquired (at 120 decibels) why I was joking around during hand-to-hand combat instruction, I had told him that I had mastered all the moves and didn’t need to practice any more.

That had earned me 20 pushups and a requirement to stand in the back of the class holding up a wooden rifle with bayonet that we had used in the training.  I had to hold the small end with my arm straight out.  As I stood there, shoulder aching, my anger at the Army festered.

Amazingly, I wasn’t angry at Sergeant Byrd for inflicting this pain on me.  My outrage at him had cooled from incandescent to smoldering, then evolved to reluctant respect as we progressed into the 6^th week of our eight-week basic training.

All the drill sergeants were combat vets from Viet Nam.  Gradually it filtered through my resentment that they really were trying to teach us how to survive in combat.  Sergeant Byrd and his crew were using time-tested practices to help us support each other when bullets started to fly.

Eventually Sergeant Byrd called an end to the class and had us sit in a nearby amphitheater with some mats down front.  He demanded that anyone who thinks they know the hand-to-hand moves come down and demonstrate them for the class.

Immediately one hand went up.  That surprised no one.  It was the company brown-noser, and everybody hated him, especially me.  Of course, the drill sergeant called him up.  Then he looked out over the group, announcing that he needed a second demonstrator.  “Is there anyone else who thinks they know this stuff?”  His eyes wandered until they lit on me.  “Howe!  You think you know this stuff.  Get down here.”

Relieved not to be holding the mock-up rifle-bayonet any more, I jogged down the aisle next to Sergeant Byrd and Brown-Nose.  Byrd told us which move we would be demonstrating.  It was the one where the assailant comes running at the defender.  The defender then grabs the assailant by the neck with the left hand and the top of his head with the right hand, then uses the assailant’s momentum to flip the assailant up in the air and down onto his back, shouting KEE-YAH as loud as possible.

[I was never clear on the purpose of “shouting KEE-YAH as loud as possible”.  But everything in the Army seemed to involve “shouting ‘something’ as loud as possible”; with hand-to-hand combat, that ‘something’ was KEE-YAH.  All I knew was that I hated the Army.]

Sergeant Byrd told Brown-Nose to be the assailant.  He backed off a few feet and charged like a run-away freight train.  In that instant time dilated for me.  All I could feel was my hatred for Brown-Nose, the Army, and myself surging through my body in an adrenaline-fueled burst. 

My left hand reached out and grabbed Brown-Nose by the Adams Apple while by right hand grabbed the top of his head.  Brown-Nose elevated over me with no seeming effort on my part.  But I did help him to come down.  As he flipped in mid-air, I slammed his back down on the mat at Sergeant Byrd’s feet.  Brown-Nose bounced once, wondering what time zone he was in.

I straightened up and then remembered that I hadn’t “shouted KEE-YAH as loud as possible”.  So, I looked down at Brown-Nose and sneered kee-yah.  Immediately, horror filled my mind.  Sergeant Byrd was going to kick my ass for hurting Brown-Nose and then sneering at him.

I dared to flick a glance up at Sergeant Byrd and was stunned to detect the ghost of a smile on his face.  He quickly recovered and ordered us into formation to double time back to the barracks. 

It took me a long time to process my realization that, like all good leaders, Sergeant Byrd hated brown-nosers, too.  Only years later when I entered management did I come to realize that brown-nosers only feed you what you want to hear.  You can’t make good decisions unless you have accurate information.  And teams cannot function without trust.

How about you?  Do you have a similar story?  What has worked best for you?  Comment below.