Colin Seitz is passionate and focused on people, culture, and leadership. He works on the TRG team as a coach and leader to help foster company culture and leadership, focusing on real problems and solutions.
I experienced psychological safety early in my career, in a place that may surprise some—in the forecastle of a Navy ship where I was a young Marine and part of the Maritime Special Purpose Force (MSPF). The force consisted of my platoon and Marine Raiders, the Marine Corps’ special forces, and NSW (Naval Special Warfare), commonly known as the Navy SEALs, along with a few other units.
We all sat in the forecastle of the Navy ship. Each group occupied their own space, huddled around their gear. We were all tired but were committed to conducting the After Action Debrief (AAD), even in the early morning hours. The AAD was a key part of our operation. We were not done with the mission until we provided a space for us all to conduct social psychologist Kurt Lewin’s forcefield analysis in our own way. Namely, what moves us closer to our goal, and what drives us further away?
As a young Marine, I was surrounded by elite professionals and senior leadership in this task force. So, initially, I was apprehensive about saying or doing anything. I didn’t want to provide a wrong or silly response. My mindset was to listen and not draw attention.
The professionals in the room knew more than I did. What could I possibly add to this group dialogue? More importantly, who was I to speak up about something I may have seen or wondered if it could be done differently? My thoughts would be like those of a new employee speaking up to the CEO and other C-suite executives in a company meeting and sharing ideas of what could be done better. Needless to say, it was a little intimidating.
AADs were conducted by discussing each phase of the operation, and as we started walking through the first part, the SEAL commander spoke up and offered an area where he felt he could have done something better. He admitted that his action wasn’t the best when looking back. Another SEAL shared their thoughts and took ownership of their part of that step.
On the other side of the room, the commander of the MSPF, the highest-ranking person in the room, asked what they could have done differently to help avoid that issue in the future. For over an hour, this process continued. The flow swung back and forth from things that went well to something that could have been done differently or better. Each person took ownership and accountability, but importantly, there was also an explanation of what was happening. Together, we discussed the intended outcome, why we took our actions, and what we learned and would do differently next time.
Everyone has an important role
One of my earliest learnings as a Marine was that everyone understood the mission. Now, that doesn’t mean that we understood the overarching strategy. But for any mission we were to participate in, we understood the objective. We also understood what each element within that unit would be responsible for, what they would be doing, and why and how that translated into the mission and objective.
This was tested continuously in training. Evaluators and observers would walk up to those conducting the operation and pronounce them “out of service,” meaning they could no longer continue in their capacity. There was no more direction, no more action, nothing from that team member. If they were the radio operator, someone needed to take the radio and assume that role. If they were the leader responsible for executing a part of the mission, someone else needed to step into that role. Immediately.
Back in the forecastle
Round and round we went in the forecastle, members from each group and all ranks, from most senior to the most junior, myself included, sharing what they did and why. We went over what our intention was, how we could focus on the objective, and how, once executed, did we achieve the objective. Never was there any judgment—input was met with either nods, questions, or ideas of how else we could have done things in the form of “what if we did this?” and “I saw that too, and I thought it was a good idea. If you did the other idea you are suggesting, this would have happened.”
I’ll admit, this behavior was surprising. There were some significant mistakes made, but there was no difference in response from the group, large or minor mistakes. Everything was about learning…and empowering people to act.
Empowering everyone
We frequently hear about the desire of leaders for their people to be empowered; we even hear of leaders saying they empower their people. I learned from those AADs what it feels like to be in a psychologically safe culture in those sessions. The space to be vulnerable and admit mistakes, some of them large, created a space for learning and growth.
It created an environment where, if you understood the mission and saw something that you felt required action to achieve the mission goals, you were safe and expected to take that action. We would talk about it later to determine if it was the right thing to do or was there a better option. In a rapidly changing environment, decisions couldn’t wait for someone else to give their approval. The Marine Corps has a culture of decentralizing command, entrusting decision-making authority to the lowest levels of leadership. Leaders needed to be able to read, react, and be confident in knowing the objective and that their actions would move toward that objective. Most of all, there was safety in knowing that even if it were the wrong decision, they would learn and not be punished for it.
Culture takes time and effort
The environment of learning and empowerment requires both risk-taking and being comfortable in making mistakes. That comfort doesn’t come from encouragement but rather from an environment where individuals feel OK to make mistakes. The possibility of mistakes invites hesitation. Changing how an individual has always done things that resulted in promotions, raises, bonuses, and prestige takes more than encouragement.
Instead, it requires an environment that allows for and invites risk-taking, an atmosphere of learning rather than punishment. These environments aren’t created overnight; instead, they result from a continuous establishment of a psychologically safe culture, starting with the senior leaders modeling and living by it. Safety cannot be willed. It needs to be practiced and embedded in the culture. It needs to be, in terms of the organization, the way we do things around here.
As our AAD wrapped up and each group went their separate ways, I continued to reflect on this. Like everyone else in the AAD, I was tired and dirty, but I had just left a classroom where I had learned a tremendous amount. Discussion from that AAD helped me respond to future challenges and issues, both through experience as well as comfort in knowing that deciding and acting with the objective in mind was what my leaders had expected of me. They never once had to tell me I was empowered. Instead, I knew I was from the way we talked about failures. In the end, some of the most elite military units, where failure can have dire consequences, can create and benefit from a culture of psychological safety. Isn’t it time to consider if it has a place in the corporate world?
To get more insight on company culture and leadership from Colin or the rest of the TRG team, contact us.
