Know When to Say When

Have outside distractions gotten in the way of your primary mission?

If you’ve read my previous stuff, you know I have a definite view on servant leadership. You were hired, elected, promoted or appointed to serve those under you.

Even though the troops are subordinate to you, your primary task—the reason you exist as chief or as a company officer—is to serve them. You do this by ensuring they have the equipment, training, abilities, procedures, permission and manpower to perform their tasks safely, efficiently and effectively. Everything else is secondary to the goal of improving firefighter safety.

Regardless of the political process—and we both know it’s a political process regardless of how it came about—that may have put you there, your sole function is to serve the troops. Period. Day-to-day decisions must be based on the question, “Does this benefit the troops?” If the answer is “yes” then you go for it. If “no” then you don’t. If it doesn’t help or harm the troops but fuels only your ego, then the answer is “no” too.

However, there may come a time when for whatever reason, you can no longer accomplish your primary task. For career chiefs, maybe it’s the political process—pressure from city hall—or maybe you’ve been the chief so long that the fireground/tactical part of the fire service has passed you by, and you’re now the dinosaur you always hoped you wouldn’t become. Better said (and you know this): The fire service didn’t pass you by, you chose not to keep up with the fireground/tactical part of the fire service. And last, but certainly not least, maybe you have new career goals (e.g., you want to be the chief of a larger department or a city manager) that put the “chief” title and focus on the backburner.

For volunteer chiefs, the same holds true: Maybe you chose not to keep up with the fireground/tactical part of the fire service. Other things also get in the way of effective volunteer leadership: family commitments, career job responsibilities, burnout or other personal goals that put the “chief” title and focus on the backburner.

Then again, maybe you’re the chief that shouldn’t be to start with. Maybe you were gob’d (good-ol-boy’d) into the slot or you were elected because no one else wanted the task. Either way, your ego says, “Look at me, I’m the chief!”—when you know the troops put you there because no one else wants it. Your own troops don’t look to you for fireground leadership—they go to someone (sometimes anyone) else, sometimes when you’re standing right there.

Or, for both career and volunteer, maybe you’ve done something that affects your ability to lead by altering the way the troops respect, view or respond to you.

If you’ve found yourself in one of these positions, it may be time to hang up your white helmet. It takes a simple thought to realize that you’ve lost (or never had) the ability to lead the troops. And that thought is easily pushed aside by one’s ego.

It takes courage and selflessness to know when to say “when.” Do you have it in you?

Scott Cook is a firefighter with the Granbury (Texas) Volunteer Fire Department, where he previously served as chief. He’s also a contributing editor for FireRescue.