SMALL-TOWN CHIEF
George was perplexed. Why doesn’t he understand? he asked himself as Chief Tom Jones sitting across from him poured out his heart. The man’s no dope!
The reasons, George knew from his years of experience, were many and complex. George, a management con sultant, had been called into mans other fire departments to structure and administer the promotional proc ess. The situation here at the Spring view Fire Department certainly was not a first.
Chief Jones was not that different from most of the members of the department —and certainly he was similar in many ways to the 10 men dying to get him out of the way so one of them could jump into his chair. George sensed too that in the future, Cieorge or a counterpart probably would be sitting in this same room listening to another Chief Jones— probably one of the 10 members he now was here to interview.
SMALL-TOWN CHIEF
As George looked at the chiefs face, he realized that at any given point in time there would be an endless line of firefighters waiting to be butchered on what he came to call “the altar of management”—a continual line of men and women highly motivated to climb up the ladder of command and grab the power. The line would cue up as long as there are emergencies and men or women in control who know how to manipulate others to do their bidding. George startled himself with his assessment. Boy, he thought, am I cynical!
Chief lones, a man in his late 50s, projected a positive image with his tall, lean stature, well-groomed appearance, and energetic style. On the surface, he appeared to rate a “ 10” on most scales. But, in reality, George sensed that this man was headed toward a serious medical problem or a nervous breakdown—maybe both.
George, therefore, lingered long after the business of his visit had been completed to listen to the chief. He was doing for the chief what a friend would do—because by the chiefs own admission, he had no friends.
SOME OF THE SIGNS
George’s reverie was interrupted by the chiefs words. “The thing that really disturbs me is that the township committee seems to be afraid to face the issue.”
lie was referring to the town’s political leaders and their reactions to the chiefs request for a full-scale investigation of an act of mischief committed against the chief.
“Someone put sugar in my car’s gas tank. My mechanic knows it. and I know it,” the chief continued. “And I’m damn well sure it was done here right outside the firehouse . . . by one of those misfits downstairs.”
“That would be hard to prove,” George heard himself saying. “And, it sure would be an awful messy situation.” He was sorry as soon as the words left his lips.
“Hey! I’m tough,” the chief shot back. I never once shied away from what I had to do. I took this job because they begged me. Now, look at what’s happening.”
The story was so familiar. George had heard it many times. Chief Jones, who had been the town’s fire inspector, was all set to retire six years ago. He had been a very good inspector. Hie BOCA code was the “Good Book,” and he was its expert disciple. “I never lost a case that went to court because of something 1 ordered to be done,” he would boast.
Then, the chiefs predecessor suffered a fatal heart attack, and the town fathers came to him with their proposition. They wanted Chief Jones to straighten out the firehouse, abolish cronyism, and upgrade the fire department’s personnel and equipment. They wanted a professionalism that would reflect the same strides taken by the police department, who shared the other half of the building with the fire department. “You’re our man,” they told him.
SMALL-TOWN CHIEF
Keen politicians doing their homework, George acknowledged mentally. Who can beat them? They knew the man was a loner and prided himself on doing a good job. A man with high moral principles, an especially deep love for the fire department, and a keen loyalty to the image he thought the department should reflect. These politicians knew that he didn’t like the way the department had been functioning. They knew also that during the years he had been building inspector, he more or less had separated himself from fire department personnel and that, therefore, no deep, bind-
ing relationships would get in the way when they felt it was time for him to go. Most of all, they knew he was a strong self-disciplined individual. If he said he would do something, he would do it—or die trying. Now, six years later and with most of the things these officials wanted done accomplished ….
“Have you looked into those chest pains?” George asked the chief with genuine concern.
“1 had a blood chemistry and an EKG done yesterday.”
“Some job you’ve got,” George said. “Two years ago, you nearly had a nervous breakdown. Now, you’re bucking for a heart attack. Tell me something. Chief, if you were interviewing for a job and were told that the last guy died of a heart attack in the job and that six years from now you’d likely have a heart attack and possibly a nervous breakdown along the way, would you still want the job? And, how much would you ask in salary? 1 mean, it would have to be a heck of a lot more than you’re getting
now.”
“I just want to stay on a bit longer, George. There are some things I still want to do. If only the right people had been promoted to captain, I could be sure that what I started would continue.” The chief looked at George. “But now … with you here … that’s probably not going to happen.”
George changed the subject. “Isn’t an election coming up soon?”
“Yes. For mayor, and I know for a fact that a politician whose name I won’t mention has been coming to the firehouse at night to talk to the men. I hear he’s listening to what they have to say about me.”
“I bet he’s the one who spoke up against the investigation at the township meeting,” George offered.
“That’s right, but so far I think the other two committee members are still on my side.”
THERE ARE NO SURPRISES
The promotions were being taken very seriously by members of the department. George discovered this while conducting the needs interviews. The successful candidates would be in their positions for many years, since no new ones were likely to come open in the short term. Looking at it another way, George noted that the losers would be closed out for many years. That’s why George had been caught off guard at first by the remarks of one of the candidates while discussing the grading of the written examination. The comment did not seem to fit with the competitive nature of the prevailing promotion scenario.
What was it the candidate had said? “Hey! There are no surprises between us. We all know each other very well. Some of us go back to grade school.”
George returned his attention to the chief, who still was talking about the changes he had made in the department. He was especially proud of the new pumper and aerial ladder truck purchased within the past two years. And, he had integrated volunteers into firehouse operations so that they were competently manning the firehouse and the second section of the engine during a working fire, a move that had caused some hard feelings among the paid firefighters. The issue of taking over the town’s volunteer ambulance service also was causing friction centered around the question of what would happen to the few paid workers presently in the ambulance corps. Would they become firefighters? If so, what status would they be given?
SMALL-TOWN CHIEF
George’s attention floated away from the chief and returned to the strange remark made during the candidate’s interview. It had bothered him before when he had not understood . . . now that he understood, it bothered him even more.
LABOR DISCIPLINE
Actually, the chiefs plan to promote candidates in part through a traditional multiple-choice examination would have benefited some of the candidates who now were fighting it. They were the members he wanted promoted, the people he believed would have a positive influence on the future growth and development of the department. As George came to know these men, he realized they were not students. They had to know that his examination process probably would not place them in the winner’s circle. They also had to know that some of the other candidates they had banded together with were very good students. One, in fact, was very close to earning a master’s degree.
Why were they doing it? Why didn’t they buy the chiefs multiple-choice exam? It’s entirely possible that they would have passed. They had to know that the chief was not compelled to select successful candidates in the rank order of the examination grades. Why did they place themselves in a position so that even if they passed, they more than likely would not be in the money?
The answer soon became obvious. In his mind, he still clearly could see their determined antimanagement faces. It was a classic example of labor discipline —and at what a cost to some of the candidates. In a way, it was equivalent to the famous pinging noted in Hawthorne’s studies involving behavior in the workplace. Workers playfully punched workers who did not fully support maintaining group norms. In the end, wayward workers ultimately were disciplined and followed group directives.
The needs interviews had provided the universal theme for the department—a deep dislike for the chief that united them into a tightly knit welldisciplined group.
That remark by one of the candidates on George’s first day was meant to tell him that an expensive competitive examination process was not necessary7. The men more or less knew who the winners would be. He had not grasped the meaning of that remark at the time.
Once the men knew that the law was on their side, they also knew that the chief was not going to have his way. How very human! They knew what the chief wanted, and they knew that he wasn’t going to get it. They simply waited for the chief to overstep his authority. In typical fashion, the chief did just that when he tried to get promotions for the men he thought could do his work most effectively. He tried to establish a system that included extra promotional points for community service and for activities that projected the department in a favorable way. A unionbacked lawsuit made the chief back away from the idea and agree to bring in an impartial expert, George.
SMALL-TOWN CHIEF
THE GAME’S PAIN
If George had seen the situation right off. he would have refused the job but now he was part of the game. In a subtle way, his very presence sent the message that the chief could not control the department. George knew the chief read the situation the same way. lie was sure also that the chief sensed a turning point in his career when the town council refused to order an investigation into the gastank incident. His loss to the union on the promotion-exam issue was another thorn. Much worse, however, was the turning away of the very candidates he wanted to help. He had known some of them since they were boys. George believed this hurt was one of the major reasons the chief was talking so much—saying things that perhaps would be better left unsaid.
“I begin a therapy group on Monday.” The experiences of the past six years showed in the chiefs troubled expression. “I don’t know . . . maybe it s me,” the chief went on, his voice breaking with emotion. “I’ve always been a loner. Outside of work, I don’t really have any interests. I don’t even go on vacations. My wife visits her family in Colorado. 1 usually stay home and work. I’m in here nearly every day of the week—most weekdays for 10 hours.”
George began to feel uneasy. He wasn’t prepared for what he believed could happen. He didn’t want the chief to fall apart emotionally in the firehouse. “Maybe you ought to talk things out with your wife,” he suggested.
Chief Jones laughed. “She wanted me to retire a long time ago. Now, we don’t talk about work. That’s why I had to join a group. I know I need someone to talk to.”
George decided to cast caution aside. “Don’t you have any way to relax? I mean . . . dropping into a bar isn’t a sin.”
“No,” the chief answered. “1 always wished that I had some interest in sports.” He smiled. “I don’t chase women, drink, or gamble.” He paused. “But … 1 have always loved the fire department and striving to make it what it should be. 1 believed I could make a difference. Straighten things out.”
“You did make a difference.”
The chief, lost in his thoughts, did not hear George.
“It’s a mess. No one talks to me. Firefighters actually fear me. 1 never wanted that.”
The war is over, George thought. I have to find a way for the chief to sign the armistice and end the fighting. “Chief,” he said, “I’m going to say it right out.”
The chief gave George his attention.
“The people who have the power to hire me usually know’ w’hat they want me to do and how they w’ant me to do it. Someone did the same thing with you.”
“You mean . . when they asked me to be chief?”
“They needed a ‘someone’ who happened to be you.”
“And now they don’t need me anymore?”
“I would say you’re sort of getting in the way.”
“Why?”
“Because you did the job for which you were qualified. There are no more problems that need your qualifications. Your qualifications and your way of doing things no longer are necessary. As far as they are concerned. you actually are causing problems now. In short, you have become the problem. Notice! There will be no investigation. By your own admission, part of the ‘they’ is in the firehouse listening to what the firefighters have to say about you. They look into the future and see an election year—and more and more trouble. Getting rid of you will not be too painful. They know you are in your late fifties and entitled to a good pension.”
svuii-TmvN CHIEF
“I’d really like to stay on.’
“1 don’t blame you. Another chief can come in here and not do a damn thing for a few years and the department will run just fine. Thanks to you.”
“They probably have him already picked out . . . What can I do?”
George wanted to say, “It probably will be someone you believe is too stupid to do the job.” He said instead, “Find genuine ways to reach out to the firefighters and officers. Begin using groups to do things—I mean
really use the people out there. Delegate more. Go fishing more. Let the organization run itself for awhile. That’s what the next guy is going to do. You’ve got the thing running right. You paid the dues. Why not take advantage of all your hard work—and especially all the aggravation you went through? Think of all those disciplinary hearings and similar stuff.”
“That’s not me. I’m not the ‘groupie’ type. It’s just not my style. I make decisions and run this thing.” He hesitated and then added: “Besides, it’s a waste of time. I know what has to be done. The problem is that they either don’t know or they won’t do it.”
Well, I tried, George told himself. He gave it one more try. “I predict you’ll last as long as it takes them to find out how you really feel . . . .”
“If that happens, I’ll have a pretty good pension coming,” the chief interjected.
“That’s good. Because unless you can become the person who presently is needed to run the department you worked so hard to build, you will need it.”
The chief was taken aback. “You mean I have to be like two or maybe even three or more types of people? That’s not even honest.”
“I know,” George acknowledged. “It’s difficult—and yeah, maybe even dishonest. Most of us have a great deal of trouble doing it. But that’s about the story. Most of us are only one type. Once you were the right type, but now you’re not.”
“What do I do?”
George tried to put as much compassion in his voice as possible. “Think about it. When you took the job, you knew the story even though you probably didn’t want to admit that it could happen to you. The last guy died on the job. You had to know how it would end. It’s the story of a small-town fire chief. You either fit the bill or you don’t. If you can’t change —that’s the story.”
Hie chief started to say something, but then fell silent.
I “Think about it.” George repeated*
