Post-command menopause is a very real thing. After 3-4 years of having nearly total control of thousands of tons of warship and the many dozens of outstanding officers and crew that operated it in response to your wishes and directions, it is humbling, to say the least, to find oneself at a significantly lower position on somebody else’s totem pole.
However, there are many different kinds of post-command jobs and a broad range of new “bosses” for whom to work. I was very fortunate on both counts when I left Pargo in early ‘79. Jerry Holland, then LT Holland in the Fall of ‘61, had been my “Sea Daddy” on Scorpion when Ensign Patton rolled aboard as one of the first group of “direct inputs.” Now as a CAPT and CO SubSchool, he was willing to let me relieve as his head of Tactical Training and Special Equipment Program.
Within the Submarine Force, and probably throughout the mil- itary, everyone becomes a “trainer” shortly after joining the group. In fact, when, in those times I was honored to be asked to talk to Basic Enlisted students at their graduation ceremonies, I often pointed out that within a few months of reporting to their first boat, they might be entrusted in training and certifying others to perform what might be the most inherently dangerous event routinely conducted at sea – operating the Trash Disposal Unit.
On Pargo there was only one Wardroom and Fire Control Party to train – now there were almost a hundred. Again, I was fortunate to have wonderful LCDRs to handle all the day-to-day routine stuff at both build- ings under my charter, and I was free to spend nearly all of my time in the Attack Center trainers. CAPT Holland didn’t choose to provide any guidelines or advice on how the job was to be done, so I certainly didn’t ask. One of the many powerful pieces of advice that LT Holland had provided early on was “Never ask the question you don’t want to hear the answer to!” It was all great fun, and during the course of the tour, a mental construct was formed that helped shape the manner in which training was conducted and is probably worthy of passing on to those still involved in that universally critical and important task. It involves CPT – Concepts, Procedures and Techniques – the essential elements of any human skill.
CPT sounds a little mundane, but it’s a little more complex that it seems at first glance. For starters, it is critical when “teaching” a skill, that the following be understood:
- Concepts must be taught, E=MC2 is not
- Procedures are not taught, they are studied – but must be solidly based on good concepts.
- Technique is practiced.
- These three elements must be presented to the student in that sequence – first teach the concepts, then have them study the procedures, then help them practice the techniques.
As previously stated, all human skills are comprised of these three components, but not in the same proportions. For example, the skill set possessed by the late Stephen Hawking probably had some level of Pro- cedures or Techniques, but they were miniscule when compared to the 99.99% of Concepts employed when imagining the existence and nature of “black holes.” On the other hand, the skill set of David Ortiz did in- volve Concepts (hit the ball so it lands in fair territory where no one can catch it) and Procedures (swing three times and miss, and someone else gets to try), but his paycheck was earned by the 90% + of Technique he had developed. Most skills, however, like shooting torpedoes, are not so heavily biased towards just one of the three components.
In a practical sense, any trainer must carefully analyze the skill he is trying to groom in his student(s), to include a very careful analysis of just what proportions of CPT that particular skill breaks down into, and what method is best suited to convey each part of the mix. For example, when a Fire Control Party came to the Attack Centers, it was not to be taught concepts or to study procedures, but to practice their techniques as a team. The concepts previously taught them had been conceived by Dev- Ron 12 or others, and the procedures they’d already studied were based on these concepts and published by organizations such as the DevRon. Any misunderstanding of basic concepts or demonstrated ignorance of procedures was discussed by instructors in the “hot washup” which fol- lowed each trainer exercise.
When it comes to the evaluation of a technique-associated skill, or that part of a total skill set that is technique-associated, it must be re-membered that this cannot be done in an objective manner but must be done subjectively by an “expert” in that skill. Consider as an example, the judges of Olympic gymnastics or figure skating. In the last analysis, the “goodness” of a Fire Control party was judged by how hard it was (target shooting back, weapons failing) to get them to the edge of mak- ing mistakes. In some cases, even generating an unusual situation where “following established procedures” would be the wrong thing to do. It is valuable to note that the optimum point for technique-associated training is at the edge of making mistakes – no benefit is obtained if the exercise is too easy, and also none if it is too hard.
In summary, for all you trainers of a particular skill, evaluate how the skill breaks down into its CPT components; prepare to convey the essential concepts; assure procedures to be studied are properly based on these concepts; and provide for the appropriate areas or devices that allow techniques to be practiced. Students should also be aware of this CPT process, and focus on the salient points and goals during each step in the process.
