Do your values still serve you?

My first car was a real piece of junk, but I loved it.?

It was a bright yellow 1977 Triumph 2500 TC and I recall specifically that it cost $1250 (albeit in 1996). I owned that car for about five years and over that time I sunk what little cash I had into restoring it and, where possible, improving it. I rebuilt the carburettors, replaced fuel pumps and starter motors, and made sure it always had fresh spark plugs, oil, and oil and petrol filters.?

Mechanically, it was great, but over the years I owned it, it developed a serious rust problem. What started as a few bubbles here and there progressed rapidly to be serious structural issues as the metal cancer took hold. Eventually it became clear that while the engine was going strong, the body of the car was unsalvageable.?

The answer was obvious to me; remove the engine and other good bits from the old, rusted car (including the amps and four subwoofers that I had installed in the boot by that stage), get myself another Triumph 2500 with a decent body, and put it all together to make a drivable car. The old car wasn’t saleable in its rusted state as it couldn’t be registered, but it didn’t make sense to throw the baby out with the bathwater and scrap the whole thing as some of the parts were perfectly good for ongoing road use (and doof-doof noise pollution). ?

I have come to see this example as analogous to my values when I left the army.?

At the time of my transition, I had a rigid set of values that had served me very well in the military, but I had failed to consider that the exact same values may not be perfectly suited to civilian life. Indeed, some of them would prove to be completely misaligned to civilian life, but no one ever told me that, and I didn’t think to consider it until years after I discharged.?

Metaphorically, some of my values were like the rusted shell of my old Triumph and needed to be thrown away. Others were like the strong engine (and thumping subwoofers) of the old beast and could be kept and inserted into my new civilian identity to power forward with.?

Most of us will have some inherent awareness of our values, but few of us take the time to formally explore them and write them down. Doing so can provide a powerful insight into who you are and why certain people and situations resonate with you, and others don't. There's many tools for mapping your values, but my favourite is a University of Western Australia project, that involves a free (at the time of writing) survey - found at www.thevaluesproject.com . Once completed, the survey results provide a good insight into your values. Remember, there's no good or bad values, just what you personally value more and less.?

Our values are not necessarily static throughout our lives. It’s likely that you will have some hardwired values, known as core values, that are far less likely to change over time. However, we also have what’s known as derived, or secondary values, that still contribute to making us the unique person we are but are far more amenable to change throughout different life stages.?

When you stop to think about it, you are still fundamentally the same person that you were as a teenager, however the things you value will likely have changed significantly through your adult lives.?

For example, I no longer value rendering myself (and anyone else in the grid square) deaf from blasting doof-doof music from multiple subwoofers in my car. In adulthood, I found that gunfire and being in close proximity to blasts was a way of achieving the same outcome that was more aligned with my values at the time! All jokes aside, our values can, and do, change over time and what’s more, we can actively change them if we identify ones that no longer serve us well in the life stage we find ourselves in. This is likely going to be the case when transitioning out of military and first responder roles.?

There will be certain values that an individual has that probably led them to enter a military or first responder role in the first place. From there, the individual is indoctrinated into the organisational values, commonly including those on the following list:

· ?Courage

· ?Respect

· ?Integrity

· ?Excellence

· ?Service

· ?Leadership

· ?Collaboration

· ?Ongoing learning

These are all excellent values to have and should be kept throughout the transition period and onward in life. Other values may not be as well suited to life post service. A few values that I eventually realised to be counterproductive after my discharge from the army, and the reasons why, are listed below:

Elite physical fitness.?

Throughout my army career I had strived to maintain elite levels of physical fitness. This was initially essential in preparing for, and passing, SAS selection. From there, it was essential to maintain a very high level of fitness to do my role. It wasn’t uncommon to find myself lugging around a combat load upwards of 50kg (110 pounds), often at altitude in places like Afghanistan, and over mountainous terrain.?

Our normal workday when we were home in barracks allowed us a couple of hours for physical training and when we were deployed, one of the highest priorities, wherever we found ourselves, was to set up a gym so we could keep training. Physical fitness was ingrained in the culture and values of the unit.?

It didn’t occur to me until years after discharge that I didn’t need to maintain the same rate of effort with my physical training, and indeed it had started to become counterproductive. Not only was the rate of effort requiring me to find time in my week around new work commitments (eating into my family time), but my aging body was also starting to show signs of wear and tear.?

The realisation that I needed to wind back my training came about five years after my discharge, when I had set myself the goal of a 200kg (440 pound) deadlift and a 100kg (220 pound) clean and jerk. Weighing around 70kg (155 pounds) myself at the time and creeping into my mid-40s, my body let me know it wasn’t happy with these pursuits through a bulged spinal disc rubbing on nerves and giving me hellish sciatica.?

Predictably, I initially chewed anti-inflammatories (the culturally appropriate management of any injury in the army) and trained through it for a few months before the pain became unmanageable and I was forced to reassess my goals. A spinal surgeon reinforced this recommendation and convinced me to adopt a more age and stage appropriate fitness regime. The reality was that I had absolutely no need to be lifting those sorts of weights, but it had been programmed into my values in the military and I hadn’t considered winding it back on discharge.?

Relentless pursuit of excellence.?

Another value that was inherent to army special operations was the relentless pursuit of excellence. This worked brilliantly in that environment and kept every member of the unit striving to be their individual best and to push the organisational capability to excellence.?

This value works well in organisations where everyone has been specifically selected for their role and are passionately united towards a common mission. This value did continue to serve me well in my medical leadership role in the small hospital I worked at for a few years post-discharge, as the team there was small, focussed, and invested in personal and organisational excellence. It was only when I was three years out of the army that it started to become clear that I needed to soften that particular value.?

At that point, I had moved into another medical management role as the Medical Director for a State-wide medical capability. It was a much larger team than the one we had in the small hospital, and there were far more political and logistical constraints. The end result was a slower moving machine whose operational outputs were generally only at the functional level at best. Many of the staff that I worked alongside, as well as those I managed, didn’t value the relentless pursuit of excellence that I had become accustomed to in the military, and saw their roles more as a vocation or profession (remember the ikigai diagram).?

This is of course perfectly fine, and the reality is that most people in the broader population will approach their work with this mindset, however, for me at the time it created significant frustration and value incongruence. I could see some clear areas where the organisation could improve, but no matter how much energy I invested, I was just one tiny cog in a massive machine. I could spin and spin as fast as I was capable of but if the other cogs weren’t spinning at the same rate, then my efforts were futile.?

I began to see that my individual relentless pursuit of excellence was only serving to create frustration and burn me out, with no improvement in organisational capability. As defeatist as it felt at the time, I resigned myself to backing off a little and only investing the appropriate amount of energy into the role that was commensurate with all of those around me. It was this very realisation, that my values were incongruent with those of the broader organisation, that would eventually lead me to resign from the role. ?

Punctuality.?

As I’m sure every former military member and first responder will attest to, punctuality is crucial in those roles. Being late simply isn’t a thing, and for good reason. If you’re late to a house fire as a firefighter, a heart attack as a paramedic, a street brawl as a police officer, or a helicopter extraction on operations as a military member, the outcome could quite literally be fatal. If you’re late to a Commanding Officer’s set of orders, the outcome may not be literally fatal, but you may find yourself wising you were dead!?

There is a saying in the army that goes;?

If you’re not ten early, you’re ten late.?

The value of punctuality is drilled into military and first responders during their initial training and maintained throughout their careers. The reality, however, is that outside of those lines of work, it often really doesn’t matter that much if you’re a little late for something. It’s impolite and sometimes disrespectful, but it’s not life and death. Yet many ex-military and first responders (myself included) rigidly carry this value with them after transition and apply it to all aspects of their lives.?

I have insight into it now, but I continue to find my blood pressure rising when my wife is still doing her makeup as the time we were meant to meet friends has ticked past. Surprisingly, me checking my watch every 30 seconds, and encouraging her to hurry up, generally doesn’t help the situation! I still firmly believe that punctuality is a great value to have, and it’s one I continue to attempt to drill into my kids (and with lesser success, my wife) however, I have finally realised that continuing to hold the value of military-grade punctuality is not useful as a civilian.?

Prioritising the mission over all else.?

This is a somewhat unique value that is only really held by military and first response organisations. When you think about it, what other roles would ask to you potentially risk your life in the line of duty??

A brief scrub of the internet reveals this value reflected in organisational statements such as the following:

Service – The selflessness of character to place the security and interests of our nation and its people ahead of one’s own. Australian Army?

Loyalty – Devote yourself to the U.S. Constitution, the Army, your unit, and other fellow Soldiers. US Army

Service – We are devoted to serving our community with honour, placing the needs of the community above those of our own. Windsor Police

Patient First – Our patients are at the centre of everything we do. South Australian Ambulance Service

Putting communities first – Firefighters are expected to put the interests of the public, their community, and service users first at all times - UK Fire and Rescue Service

And probably most concisely and impactfully put:

Semper Fidelis (always faithful) - US Marine Corps moto

These are powerful values that every member of the respective organisation strives to uphold. They also serve to bond the tribe together and facilitate the in-group strength that leads to identity fusion (when your individual identity morphs with your work identity). The visceral sense of oneness that comes with identity fusion is what ultimately reinforces the sense of loyalty, service, and duty, that allows the individual members of the organisation to reach the point where they would willingly risk their lives for the mission, their teammates, or the general community. It is essential to the individual and collective objectives of military and first response organisations, but it often comes at the cost of relationships with family and friends outside of work.?

There’s another saying that goes;?

If the army wanted you to have a family, they would have issued you with one!

I’m sure that similar sayings exist in other military and first responder organisations, and the truth that underpins it is universal. When we consider those in our society who have more normal jobs, it is far less likely that they will experience the same degree of in-group bonding with their work teams and therefore would be significantly less likely to become identity fused in their role. Their best chance of experiencing identity fusion will be with their family and perhaps close friends. That is what normal looks like.?

When a military member or first responder becomes identity fused with their work role, this becomes direct competition to their identity fusion with their family unit.?

Birthdays and Christmases are routinely missed due to work commitments, as are births of children, trips to the Emergency Department for broken bones and cut knees, and the list goes on. This is how it must be, and most members can justify missing these key life events due to their level of investment in their work role.?

While this level of investment might be required during service, I believe the value of prioritising work over family is one that is counterproductive post-transition, and a recalibration is required. I realised this too late.?

In my book The Combat Doctor , I tell the story of how, without resentment, I blame the army for my failure to see my dying dad one last time.?

I was three years out of uniform by that time, so I certainly couldn’t blame the Green-Machine directly for having me deployed or otherwise committed at the time. The issue was that my mindset was still of prioritisation of the mission over all else.?

I was mid-way through a block of shifts in the Emergency Department of the regional hospital I was helping to run when my dad’s health began to deteriorate sharply. He had been battling cancer for years by that point and it was clear that he was in his final days. Rather than drop everything and get to his bedside like a normal son would, I planned to finish my block of shifts and then visit dad on my days off. Dad passed away prior to that.?

It would take another couple of years to finally recalibrate my mission-firstvalues to the more appropriate family-first values. That day finally came when one of my sons broke a finger and I left work instantly to be by his side at the hospital for his management and then grab some Kentucky Fried Chicken on the way home with him!

You probably won’t realise, and no one will ever tell you, that you might need to soften some of your old values or adopt new ones when you transition out of high-investment roles such as the military or first response. You need to work that out for yourself. The hope of this newsletter is to get you thinking about your values in detail and asking the question whether they will serve you well moving forward or not.?

A great framework that I think is useful for this process is an adaptation of a business model I came across while studying my MBA. It is called the Three Box Solution and was developed by Vijay Govindarajan (VG).?

The model has a cool backstory that comes from Hindu cosmology and is centred around three gods: Vishnu; the preserver, Shiva; the destroyer, and Brahma; the creator.?

In the Hindu universe, there is no beginning or end, and the constant cycle of life relies on balanced creation, preservation, and destruction. When applied to businesses this model allows leaders to look at which processes are no longer useful or productive and should be discontinued, which are fundamental to their current operation and productivity and should be sustained, and which are going to prepare them for their future and should be developed.?

I reckon the same process can be applied to our values during the transition period out of military or first responder roles.?

Call to action: Apply the Three Box Solution to your values.?

Start with the list of your values created from the results of www.thevaluesproject survey and add any other specific organisational values that may still be ingrained into you from your previous role (maybe look up the organisational values of your old organisation if you don’t know them specifically).?

Now, think ahead to the person you need to evolve into to thrive post-transition (or moving forward in life in general) and what values they might need. This is going to be imperfect, as it’s impossible to predict with certainty where you’re headed, but just do your best. The goal is to be considering it.?

Now place the individual values from your list into one of the three boxes in the table below.?

This Newsletter is an adaptation of a chapter from my new book "Sh*t I wished I knew before I discharged" which is available now through online book retailers such as Amazon Australia and international sites.?

As always, comments and questions are welcome. If you feel this newsletter might resonate with others in your community, please share it widely.?

Until next Friday, stay safe, and don’t forget to have some fun!

Cheers,

Dr Dan Pronk