Headmark: Time to Think

It is interesting that nearly four years after leaving the Naval Review, I return to find similar discussions in train. The perennial concern over encouraging ‘younger’ members of the Royal Navy to join the Naval Review has reared its head once again. Given some time to think about it, alongside another two years at sea, I offer the following which, I admit, is neither authoritative, nor complete; it relies on anec-data rather than evidence. But it is perhaps a view.

If we recall the original purpose of our founders, we can note that the purpose of the Naval Review is “to encourage thoughts and discussion” on a series of topics “affecting the fighting efficiency of the Navy.” Its aim point was explicitly the “success in war,” achieved through “expression and discussion within the Service.” The front page of the website remains true to the spirit of these statements, with different language: it is about “a wide spectrum of interested and knowledgeable practitioners and commentators on naval and maritime matters.” These statements give us a pretty clear headmark, so perhaps it’s time to take a fix on where we are. As is traditional, I’d take three points to check:

• Are we educating members of the Royal Navy?
• Do we debate Naval issues in a collegiate manner?
• Are we informing the public about the Royal Navy the best we can?

All of these are laudable fixing points and, in many ways, one would wonder why the masses from the Fleet wouldn’t be flocking to the Review already. It offers a place in which to be better, to learn about your craft, and to hone your intellectual edge. Yet, we consistently hear that we are lacking ‘young’ members, and that the currently serving are well outweighed by the retired fraternity. Whilst only the Editor can confirm or deny the consensus, it seems repeated often enough to have taken on a certain inevitability.

To check the thesis, I touched base with a number of officers from my former Wardroom, about half-a-dozen, a collection of junior Lieutenants up to a newly selected Commanding Officer. None ever admitted to being a Review member, rarely did they proactively read the Review, and with the exception of the new Commander, none could recall what the Review actually was without prompting. The best comment was from a Lieutenant when I asked if they’d even heard of the Review: “is that the thing that happened in the olden times, with the Field Gun?” Perhaps they were all duffers, an unrepresentative selection of intellectual pygmies. Perhaps. But I’d argue that their general awareness of naval matters were in line with their peer groups, with several having completed Lieutenant and Lieutenant Commander Command assignments.

If we take their views of the Review as broadly representative, then what has happened to cause such a drop of engagement from the heady days of our founding? I’d submit there are several factors: time; the lost art of the ‘Admiralty’; and a failure of senior leaders to engage their juniors. To take each in order:

Time. I have no idea of how busy or otherwise life was in the Fleet when the Review was founded, but Andrew Gordon’s description of the Battle Cruiser Fleet [in The Rules of the Game – Ed.], prior to the Great War, engaging itself in afternoon rounds of golf or promenading in Rosyth and Edinburgh, sounds nothing like a typical day on a Type 23 running out of Devonport. In these ships, we’d often view junior (and not so junior) officers working 12-plus hours a day at sea, and not much less alongside in busy FTSPs. For watchkeeping officers, if you take out the now mandatory rest periods, as well as the watches themselves, and add in time to eat, wash and take a cup of tea here and there, there’s not much more than four to five hours to work, let alone play.

Creating the space to allow an individual to read professionally, and then gather their thoughts into an article for publication, is bloody difficult. It requires a concerted effort to place individual intellectual advancement above collective success (or survival): which CO would expect a Lieutenant to prioritise an article for the Review above passing the next inspection? Once ashore (if they ever get there), the workload style shifts, but in many ways is just as demanding. And whilst there might be more space in the ‘short cast’ so there are growing demands on their time – not least having a life, traditionally social
or otherwise. And again, it would take a strong drive to place article writing or engagement above all other things. Whilst there are many reasons why the Review isn’t engaged with, pernicious or otherwise, we must deal with the junior officers we have, not an ideal we wished we had.

The Admiralty. The period when the Review was founded was a heady one: the Great War was looming, activist Naval Officers and interested members of the intelligentsia were finding a public audience for their arguments, and the Admiralty writ large supported the efforts of them all. Thus, to write and discuss was to find fertile ground. It allowed junior (and not so junior) officers the space and time to engage with the various topics they thought important. For me, the most important part of this equation was the semi-official engagement of their Lordships in the entire process: our jealously guarded ability to write without clearance is both the cornerstone of the Review, and a reflection of what the ‘system’ felt was important.

Today, we survey a very different scene: naval matters are the preserve of a very small circle; public engagement (if it comes at all) is limited to the odd sentence in a newspaper comment section; the Admiralty exists no longer, and the Royal Navy’s ability to express itself is entirely muzzled by Defence Communications. The field is fallow.

Our Seniors. My folk history of the Review has senior officers engaging with, and through, the Review to hone their intellectual positions against all comers, with all protected by pseudonyms. One could watch the ebb and flow of Naval argument through articles and the letter pages of the Review, with ships on far- off stations eagerly awaiting the next little blue magazine to arrive in the post. Perhaps I am wrong, that instead it has always been a niche endeavour, ignored by the vast majority of the Naval establishment. But, if the former was true, I’d suggest that perhaps this engagement meant something to their subordinates. There was a chance your tightly honed argument could change a mind or two, or at the very least, represent the ‘front line’ in their Lordships’ minds, and they would engage back.

So perhaps my aim point is: when was the last time anything changed due to something written about in the Review? When did a Flag Officer hoist in an article, point it out to their passing Captains, and tell them to deal with it? We go through a Defence Review about once every 14 months: have any of the suggestions made in this journal ever made it into one of these? And if there is no engagement from above, no sense that the effort is worth the input, why would we expect a junior officer to invest their time in the Review? Bemoaning junior officers for failing to engage with the Review is to take the wrong end of the stick: we should aim our frustration at our Seniors’ inability to reach down and inspire their followers.

Thus, if we take the storm of time poverty, an indifferent intellectual scene, and institutional neglect, should we be surprised that our juniors find better things to do than engage here? And what should we do about it? I’d suggest that at best we’ve got a fairly dodgy cocked hat going on, but we’re on the right side of the clearing bearings – just. So if we want to tighten our fix, and get ready for the next wheel over, what might we re-fix on? Recalling the aims of our founders, I’d suggest we concentrate on the following, in order of importance:

• Helping to educate the Navy.
• Inculcate debate across the Navy on things that matter.
• Help pass the Royal Navy message in a way the official channels may struggle with.

In detail then:

Educate – the Review is home to a great many who know a great deal about the Royal Navy, naval and maritime affairs, and how to make sense of these in the modern day. Could the Review, probably via private YouTube channel as well as distributed DVDs, host preparatory material for ICSC(M), ACSC, perhaps up to HCSC and the Royal College of Defence Studies? These could start with short, bite size, introductions into topics such as the importance and context of Corbett’s thinking, the basics of maritime law, and expand outwards from there. What is important is to link the Review with the Navy’s ability to educate itself: these topics need to be of use to a busy Lieutenant, aiming to get ready for the next step in their intellectual journey. They need to be clear, concise and branded ‘starters for 10’: the aim is to get them watched on a mobile phone whilst they’re waiting for their other half to come home, or to chuck on in lieu of a podcast before their turn-in.

Debate – the Royal Navy’s Strategic Studies Centre is opening the space for internal discussion and debate. The Review needs to act in support of this endeavour. We need to open up internal debate – the Thursday Jaw idea, rejigged. When was the last time the Review hosted an honest article from a Senior, rather than a platitudinous ‘view from the bridge’? When did we ask the Editor to email Commanding Officers, asking for topics of discussion from the Fleet? If the Review hosts discussions on the things our juniors are talking about, then it might become the place for those discussions to take place. Most importantly, those discussions need to feel authentic, and result in something, ideally change, however big or small.

We need to bring the Seniors to a space to discuss and debate with their juniors, and make it ‘safe’ for all: a harsh-edged Senior brooking no fools will close down discussion in an instant; thoughtless discussion from a junior will clam up a senior in an instant.

There is also space for the Editor to go to the Navy and ask for topics they want to talk about. What is long-term important to the Naval Staff, that draws on the expertise found in our members, and gets after the stuff they just don’t have intellectual headspace for? Is it worth touching base with the RN Strategic Studies Centre and asking them for themes for a collection of articles?

Inform – perhaps the hardest to do, if we are dealing with the world as it is. I’d suggest non-contentious topics to start: could we host Instagram ‘Day in the Life’/’Get ready with me’ reels? Would the YouTube ‘starters for 10’ be a way of building a credible brand and narrative? From there we’d earn the right to develop an argument in public that is supportive of our internal efforts.

These are just suggestions to tighten my cocked hat, but it might be that I’ve chosen the wrong fixing points. Perhaps the Navigator might slap me upside the head, point to the obvious headmark transit and inform me that I’ve got it all wrong. Regardless, I’m pretty sure that whilst we’re not in shoal water now, we’ve got a turn coming up, and we need to be prepared for the countdown. Five cables to run to a new leg…