Detachment

Crisis meeting with a managing director and his accountant “watchdog”. We are in his meeting room, his territory in a mid-sized company. The situation is tense, facts no longer matter. My counterpart’s decision-making style has long been shaped by a lack of governance. As in a close-quarter firefight, the tone becomes louder, more forceful. Not out of clarity or determination, but clearly with the intention to dominate. All signs are set to escalation.

I lean back. Consciously change my sitting posture. Lift my gaze from the table. Take a noticeably deep breath. A mental step back, not away. That sometimes confuses people, appears arrogant because one seems to be somewhere else and no longer emotionally resonating. Some may interprete this as weakness, others as power-play.

For many years, I had no name for this ability that had matured in me. I simply couldn’t put the situation, the feeling into words. Until a few years ago when I read Jocko Willink’s book “Leadership Strategy and Tactics”¹ and practically absorbed it.² One of the few books I have read multiple times and also presented here on the blog.³

It was this subsequent key scene in the book, the simulated clearing operation by the SEAL elite unit on an oil rig, that made the proverbial penny drop for Willink and for me:

As we were moving through the structure, the whole platoon entered an area of the rig and became overwhelmed with what was in front of them. It was a large level of the platform […], which created numerous hiding areas for enemy personnel and presented a complex tactical problem. The whole platoon stood there, side by side, looking down the sights of our weapons at the potential enemy threats, like an old-fashioned skirmish line. I stood there like the rest of the platoon, scanning for targets and trying to identify dangerous high-pressure or flammable areas while I waited for a call to be made directing us on our next move.

I waited a little longer. […] I waited even longer. Still nothing. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw the guys to my left and right, all doing the same thing I was: Holding their weapons in the ready position, scanning for targets and waiting for the call. […] Finally I had enough. I elevated my weapon into “high-port” position, meaning I pointed it in a safe position toward the sky away from the threats. Then I took a half step back off the firing line and looked to my left and to my right. It was plain to see: every person […] was pointing his weapon toward the threat. But no one was looking anywhere else. They could only see the field of view down the sights of their weapons. No one else had situational awareness of anything else going on. […] I could see the entire deck, all its obstacles and the simplest way to clear it.

By stepping back, I had detached myself mentally and physically from the immediate problem, and now it was easy for me to see the solution. […] “Hold left, move right” I barked in as authoritative voice. […]

As they executed the movement, I realized something very powerful. By high-porting my weapon, stepping back off the firing line and looking around, by detaching physically even if only by a few inches, and more important, detaching mentally from the problem at hand, I was able to see infinitely more than anyone else in my platoon.

Jocko Willink’s description of detachment blew me away instantly. I finally had the words for something I had intuitively practiced but had never been able to properly describe for myself or others.

• Detachment is a movement in space and in the mind.
• Detachment means first controlling your own mind, not the situation.
• Detachment means freeing yourself from the vortex so you can lead others out.
• Detachment determines who can leverage their tactical advantage in an opaque situation.

It is at this very moment where sovereign leadership starts. Not in reacting, but in clearly deciding and resolving difficult to critical situations.

Yours,
Tomas Jakobs