For the past few years, my son has been a Cub Scout. It’s a great way to help him out of his shell and experience new things. What I didn’t expect was that I would be learning and experiencing new things, too.
We just returned from a special overnight trip aboard one of the most decorated aircraft carriers in U.S. military history — the U.S.S. Midway, which, after 50 years of service, now is a museum in San Diego.
The aircraft carrier itself is still a marvel of engineering. She was commissioned in 1945, just 10 days after the end of World War II and surprisingly, was mostly built by women. She was steam powered and massive. At more than 1,000 feet long, she was the first ship too big to fit through the Panama Canal.
We were guided by experienced docents, many of whom were decorated Navy veterans — some had even served on the Midway. The docents were stationed in the areas of their expertise, which lent authenticity and drama to their stories. They gave us a glimpse into the complicated workings of what is really a small floating city.
But soon, a pattern began to emerge. Each docent, at one point or another in their tour, intoned with emphasis, “This is the most important job on the ship.”
Now, this made sense when we heard it on the bridge. That’s where the captain and his officers are positioned. It even made sense down in the engine room — without them, the ship couldn’t move. I nodded when I heard it in the CIC, or Combat Information Center, where tactical information is processed quickly. And it made sense when we saw all the top secret parts of the ship not open to the public. (I’d tell you about it, but then I’d have to kill you.)
But the boys noticed the repetition. We were in the area that controls the catapult, which launches planes into the sky, when the distinguished and decorated Navy pilot guiding us explained that if the person manning the catapult miscalculated, it was disastrous. Too much pressure and the pilot would be permanently blinded by excessive G-forces. Too little, and the plane was launched into the sea. So of course, he says, “This is the most important job on the ship.”
Well, this time, the boys were having none of it.
“But everyone else said their job was the most important!” cried one boy. “How can they all be the most important? Doesn’t that mean they’re all just normal jobs?”
The old-timer smiled and said, “But it’s true that each person holds the most important job. Think about it: When you know your job is important, you take care to do it right. Just one person treating his job as not important will make mistakes. And on this ship, a single mistake can jeopardize not only the mission, but many people’s lives. So everybody’s job on this ship is the most important.”
This really struck me as a valuable lesson. If we — as leaders, managers or mentors — imbue this sense of value to every single position in our companies or organizations, imagine how much more effective or successful your team would be. And if you’re not now in a leadership role within your firm, this mindset can only help further your career.
So let me tell you right now: You have the most important job.
