Avoiding the catastrophe – how having a wingman can save you from yourself Published Dec. 10, 2014 By Commentary by Col. Damon Feltman 310th Space Wing commander SCHRIEVER AIR FORCE BASE, Colo. -- It was a sick feeling. I had opened a daily news summary email and recognized a former co-worker's name in a not-good news story. Reading through the article, I was saddened to learn this person had been relieved of duty for unprofessional conduct. "Damn," I thought, "there goes another one." Here was another case of someone who, by all appearances, had a bright career ahead of them, only to be undone by a personality flaw that got out of control. It's been my observation that these cases of self-destruction are not binary events where one day, the person is perfect and a villain the next. Instead, the person has or develops a character flaw that's clearly visible and prone to growth. But one of two things happen. In the first case, co-workers do nothing until the behavior reaches an unrecoverable tipping point. I want to believe this is the minority case. None of us should have a "do nothing" attitude when a destructive behavior presents itself. In the second case, co-workers confront the member and try to put the person back on the right track. In other words, co-workers try to be good wingmen. What happens next is critical. The member can choose to ignore his wingmen's efforts and significantly increase the likelihood of personal and career destruction. Alternatively, the member can listen to his wingmen, make a deliberate effort to change behavior, and avoid self-destruction. I can speak first-hand to this critical choice. I had been the three-star's executive officer for about two weeks. I was also a brand-new colonel. One day my boss and I were getting ready to travel, but before leaving we had a meeting to attend. I placed my phone in the holder outside the door and forgot to pick it up when the meeting ended. Fifteen minutes later, the boss is ready to go and I can't find my phone. Realizing I'd left my phone at the conference room, I run down there only to find it missing. I was embarrassed and angry... not a great way for a new colonel and exec to impress his boss. I return to my office and commence to jumping on the staff to find my phone. At the same time base operations is calling to tell me the aircraft is ready, my boss is telling me he's ready, and the staff is calling offices to see if anyone accidentally picked up the wrong phone. The situation isn't getting better. I resign myself to the fact the phone is gone and the boss and I have to go. I scribble my destination address on a sticky note and slam it on a chief's desk. "Chief, you find whoever has my phone and have them FedEx it to me...and make sure they pay for it," I growled. Just then (no kidding, it happened within seconds of my outburst), the security desk called. Someone had turned in my phone. When I returned a couple days later, everything seemed normal in the office. The secretary and staff were pleasant and work progressed normally. That evening, the chief and I were closing the office when she spoke up. "Sir, about what happened the other day with your phone. You can't act that way," she said. "You're a colonel and the commander's exec. Everybody watches you. You set the example for the staff and the tone of this office." Her critique was honest, professional and stinging. I had let my embarrassment get the better of me and drag me over the line. Sure, I could have tried to rationalize my response and come up with some excuse, something like, "Come on, it's not like I do this all the time, it's not like I was screaming profanities. So I got a little angry, big deal." But there was no avoiding the fact that the chief was 100 percent correct in her assessment and 100 percent correct in calling me out. I thanked the chief on the spot for her feedback and later wrote her a thank-you note. More importantly, I chose to let her rebuke change my awareness of my behavior. Now, any time something goes wrong and I'm tempted to lose my cool, the chief's words play in my mind, "...you can't act that way...everybody watches you..." My wingman saved me from myself.