The cynical definition of a “hero” is one I remember spouting off in meetings not so many years ago. I was a bit more jaded then. Maybe I had a reason, but maybe I didn’t. Looking back on it now, I’m actually not sure. But I do remember what I said about heroes on more than one occasion:
“You know the thing about heroes? Well, they’re dead. Nice statue. What about the rest of us who are still around?”
I’d like to think that I’m a lot wiser now than I was then, but only looking back from a future far from now will really tell me whether I was, or I wasn’t. Either way, the thing I’m confident now about is, no matter how confident I am about what I already know…
…I’m more confident that there’s still a whole lot more I have to learn.
Tonight I was watching the 2019 version of the Midway movie. It was good. I remember the original. And all the WWII movies I watched on TV as a kid, including a TV mini-series called The Winds of War, which I dimly remember enjoying quite a lot.
But the thing I enjoy most about this has to be down to the airplanes, because I’ve always been crazy about airplanes—as long as I can remember. What I don’t remember, but what I’ve been told by my parents, was that on my first birthday, they both took me up in the J-3 Piper Cub we had at the time. When I was older, all I remember about it was seeing it hanging in our machine shed. Just a frame, but the wings had been done.
I had an uncle who flew B-25s. Apparently, he’d get in trouble, because he’d come and buzz the farm with them, and it’d upset the neighbors so much that they’d report him. Eventually, he ended up being a Captain for American Airlines.
I had another uncle who got a Purple Heart for something he did in the Pacific. When I was maybe 7…or maybe 10. I really don’t remember. He gave me a couple of books. One was on the Flying Tigers, and the other was the story of the P-38 Lightning.
Were they heroes? I don’t know. I wasn’t there.
But watching the movie tonight, after having watched many dramatizations of the true stories of conflict ancient, old and of the present day, the thing that occurred to me was probably a better definition of what a hero really is.
A hero is actually someone who does the right thing because it’s their job to do the right thing—no matter what. Whether they have support. Whether they might live. Or whether they might die in the process. And for all the “first world” problems we have…
…and I say this as someone who enjoys beverages of the alcoholic variety, and who, *gasp* wasn’t able to buy any for two whole months thanks to the local government’s response to a global pandemic…
…they aren’t really all that consequential in most cases. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to be blown up on a battleship sitting in a harbor, or we’re likely to be shot out of the sky in an airplane…at least for the majority of the people I deal with on a daily basis.
Of course, there are those in the world where this is still actually the life they live on a daily basis. And the reality is…I can’t even fathom what that must be like.
“First world” privilege, I guess.
But with the above definition of the hero…about doing what’s right because that’s the job they’ve signed up to do…
…it’s just about the one case I can think of where the end results aren’t actually as important as the intent. Sure, they want to achieve some kind of objective. But the reality is that it’s the decisions they make – every day – about what to do that really make the difference.
And that difference is manifest in not only what they do and who they are. That difference manifests in how they see themselves.
So…while it’s not exactly on the level of being a fighter pilot…or a crew member of a warship…or a member of the infantry…
…the things each one of us needs to ask ourselves every day are a few key questions:
Did we show up?
Did we do what was necessary—even when it was sometimes inconvenient…or when we didn’t have the support we would prefer?
And how did we respond to those challenges?
Did we get discouraged?
Did we give up?
Or did we focus on putting one foot in front of the other, because we believed in what we were doing?
Now, maybe this sounds a little grandiose to you as a security professional. Maybe you’re a security architect…maybe you’re a security manager…maybe you’re a member of the team…
…and maybe you own the whole dang shootin’ match.
But the thing we need to remember as security professionals is that the belief we have inside ourselves that we’re doing the right things…every day…is the most important thing that will keep us going.
Get your affirmations, and, in TA terms, your “strokes”, at home—from your lovers, wives, partners, kids, friends, colleagues…whomever it may be.
But never forget that sometimes we have to be the unpopular opinion, and sometimes we’ll see the bigger picture that others won’t…
…be they project owners…
…project managers…
…technology teams…
…operations teams…
…end users…
…or even the ultimate customers of our organization.
And that’s actually ok.
Being in security isn’t a popularity contest. It’s not who you are.
It’s what you do.
And it’s important you do the right things, every day…to make the right decisions, every day…
…to enable and protect your organization.
And, of course, that you do it in a way that earns you the credibility and trust of the people whom you’re trying to keep safe.
You don’t need to be a dickhead to deliver the mission and purpose of security…
…but you don’t need to be popular either.
You just need to be respected.
And, most importantly, you need to respect yourself.
If you want some more detailed guidance and support in actually doing this, it’s something I help security professionals all over the world with nearly every day. To find out more, just go here:
https://securityleadershipcoaching.com
If you don’t, then, hey, that’s cool too. But either way, I urge you to think about what you’ve just read. You don’t need to do anything for me. There’s a much more important question you need to answer:
What are you doing for you?
Just think about it. And…as always…
Stay safe,
ast
—
Andrew S. Townley
Archistry Chief Executive