Stop Reading A Message to Garcia. Read Brown’s Job Instead.

July 24, 2024

by August Iorio 

Short stories are a recognized tool in the arsenal of military readers looking to economize professional development for busy teams. The most useful short stories are accessible in their style and length. The best remain flexible to interpretation, creating cultural reference points and guiding metaphors for an organization without the commitment or cost of a lengthy book.

On military reading lists, the short story “A Message to Garcia” by Elbert Hubbard has reigned supreme for over a century. It’s frequently touted as a defining (and timeless) metaphor for junior leaders. 

Unfortunately, “A Message to Garcia” has not aged well. In the story, very loosely based on true events, a young lieutenant is tasked to carry a message from the President of the United States to a guerilla leader in Cuba during the Spanish-American War. The lieutenant accepts and accomplishes the task with vigor and supposedly without requiring any support. The lesson is that good subordinates accept tasks, understand intent, and complete missions with self-sufficiency, most importantly without burdening their superiors. 

Cliched, misinterpreted, and out of touch with the realities of contemporary service, the story is incongruent with the requirements for today’s military leaders. It exemplifies the generational disconnect between GWOT-raised senior leaders projecting their experience as junior officers on remote combat outposts onto formations that have never left garrison walls. Today, most company grade officers find themselves in complex yet mundane management roles without any of the excitement or glamor of daring assignments. 

Despite widespread criticisms and frustrations, institutional tradition continues to promote “A Message to Garcia” as the choice short read in leader professional development (LPD) programs. There are plenty of lessons from the story, specifically using Lieutenant Rowan’s lengthier memoir “How I Carried a Message to Garcia” to explore the counter-productive leadership decisions behind Hubbard’s sensationalized account. The problem is that the flippant proselytization of “A Message to Garcia” is teaching the wrong lessons. It’s souring junior leaders on reading for professional development. 

A New Metaphor: “Brown’s Job”

The antidote to this problem is choosing a new metaphor. A more fitting anthem is another century-old short story that has faded from the conversation. “Brown’s Job” by Robbie Feyland was published as a one-page piece of fiction in a 1920 advertising magazine. It captures the virtues of doing one’s duty in the often thankless jobs that are vital to keep an enterprise running. 

With clear contemporary military parallels, “Brown’s Job” presents an accessible and powerful opportunity to praise junior leaders in the middle managerial role who understand what needs to be done and how to do it. Considering manning and retention challenges across the force, these topics are doubly relevant for senior leaders looking to develop and retain their high-potential company-grade officers and NCOs.

Both succinct and thoughtful, “Brown’s Job” provides an excellent introduction to the value of professional development reading. You can send the entire story in a single screenshot and read it with your team during a long plank or while waiting in line for DFAC breakfast. The deliberate ambiguity ensures a diversity of interpretations and engaging discussions revealing new lessons with each read.

Here it is in full. Despite its brevity, I recommend reading it carefully and perhaps twice. I’m confident you won’t regret it:

“Brown’s Job”

Brown is gone, and many men in the trade are wondering who is going to get Brown’s job. There has been considerable speculation about this. Brown’s job was reputed to be a good job. Brown’s former employers, wise gray-eyed men, have had to sit still and repress amazement, as they listened to bright, ambitious young men and dignified old ones seriously apply for Brown’s Job. 

Brown had a big chair and a wide, flat-topped desk covered with a sheet of glass. Under the glass was a map of the United States. Brown had a salary of thirty thousand dollars a year [$400,000 in 2024]. And twice a year Brown made a “trip to the coast” and called on every one of the firm’s distributors. 

He never tried to sell anything. Brown wasn’t exactly in the sales department. He visited with the distributors, called on a few dealers, once in a while made a little talk to a bunch of salesmen. Back at the office he answered most of the important complaints, although Brown’s job wasn’t to handle complaints. Brown wasn’t in the credit department either, but vital questions of credit usually got to Brown, somehow or other, and Brown would smoke and talk and tell a joke, and untwist his telephone cord and tell the credit manager what to do. 

Whenever Mr. Wythe, the impulsive little president, working like a beaver, would pick up a bunch of papers and peer into a particularly troublesome and messy subject, he had a way of saying, “What does Brown say? What does Brown say? What the hell does Brown say? –Well, why don’t you do it, then?” And that was disposed. Or when there was a difficulty that required quick action and lots of it, together with tact and lots of that, Mr. Wythe would say, “Brown, you handle that.” 

And then one day, the directors met unofficially and decided to fire the superintendent of No. 2 Mill. Brown didn’t hear of this until the day after the letter had gone. “What do you think of it, Brown?” asked Mr. Wythe. Brown said, “That’s all right. The letter won’t be delivered until tomorrow morning, and I’ll get him on the wire and have him start East tonight. Then I’ll have his stenographer send the letter back here and I’ll destroy it before he sees it.” The others agreed, “That’s the thing to do.”

Brown knew the business he was in. He knew the men he worked with. He had a whole lot of sense, which he apparently used without consciously summoning his judgment to his assistance. He seemed to think good sense. 

Brown is gone, and men are now applying for Brown’s job. Others are asking who is going to get Brown’s job–bright, ambitious young men, dignified older men. Men who are not the son of Brown’s mother, nor the husband of Brown’s wife, not the product of Brown’s childhood–men who never suffered Brown’s sorrows nor felt his joys, men who never loved the things Brown loved nor feared the things he feared–are asking for Brown’s job. 

Don’t they know that Brown’s chair and his desk, with the map under the glass top, and his pay envelope, are not Brown’s job. Don’t they know that they might as well apply to the Methodist Church after John Wesley’s job? 

Brown’s former employers know it. Brown’s job is where Brown is. 

Who is Brown and what is his job?

The drama of the story is that the most critical member of the team is gone, creating a void in the organization. Providing no additional context as to why Brown is gone, Feyland allows the reader to interpret the story based on their own situation and experiences. The story’s metaphor is salient for the junior leaders struggling to reconcile their lofty (Message to Garcia-fueled) pre-enlistment or pre-commissioning expectations with the unglamorous, but necessary realities of ordinary service. This makes “Brown’s Job” a useful tool for leaders to reflect and empathize with their motivations of service and future goals. 

Before we attempt to understand Brown’s job we must first understand what it isn’t. Brown isn’t the president of his company. He doesn’t sit on the board of directors. He’s not the boss but he is the leader and in his management role he has his hands on the pulse of his enterprise. He’s earned the trust of his organization and has influence over the outcomes of the whole operation. He has built a professional reputation by being a man of “good sense.” He has the vision to see the light at the other end of the bureaucratic tunnel and the finesse to counter rashness with tact and calm rationality. Brown gets results through authenticity—without sacrificing relationships or integrity. Those applying for Brown’s Job don’t understand that Brown’s job is unique to him and the experiences, values, and virtues that make Brown, Brown.

The character Brown has several salient features worthy of junior leaders’ emulation. Brown is one who can solve any problem because he can see the big picture and navigate petty politics. He does not live merely to make the boss happy; yet his competence benefits his entire organization. We all know the Browns who exist as the unsung hero in our organizations as a counselor, confidante, firefighter, and friend. In a military context he or she may be the chief of staff, the operations NCO, the aide or even that specialist who knows where all of the Basic Inventory Items are (or can be acquired) before an inspection. If someone was required to carry a message to Garcia, it would be a person like Brown who decided that Garcia needed a message, wrote it, and made the travel arrangements.

Moreover, “Brown’s Job” carries a truer message about the relationship between commanders and subordinates. The story demonstrates the need for juniors to understand their boss and his or her intent. It promotes the essentiality of a culture of trust and openness that allows the junior to feel comfortable guiding the boss back to their ultimate intent—especially when the boss’s unexpected actions threaten the outcome of the mission.

How can we apply for Brown’s Job on our teams today?

While the world of 1898 may have needed more messengers, today the U.S. Military—especially its lowest formations—more desperately needs those capable of doing Brown’s job. 

We all know exceptional leaders, like Brown, destined to serve with distinction at echelon through their unmatched performance and passion. To keep these vital teammates, engaged leaders must recognize and reward the Browns on their teams. Understanding them and their motivations will enable leaders to maximize their impact on the team but also realize when it’s time for them to move on.

While some may criticize Brown for allowing his indispensability to fail to prepare his team for his departure, the inevitable fact of life and work, especially in the military, is that the Browns cannot or should not stay in position forever. This is a good thing too. It’s the only way to both challenge them and make space for the next generation to have the chance to do their jobs with a style and energy unique to them. 

How can we be a Brown for our team? 

Some closing thoughts for those who struggle with comparing themselves to the Browns around them or even worse, the idealized version of Brown in their heads. Remember that only Brown is Brown and can do Brown’s job. Fortunately, only you are you with all the life experiences that make you who you are. 

Do your job, do it well, and when it’s time to move on, carry that spirit with you to each new challenge. 

Spend a few minutes introducing Brown and his job to your team to recognize and inspire the Browns all around us.  

August “Augie” Iorio served as an Infantry officer in the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault). 

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