By Sara Roger
Nine business days into this new job, and just one more day before I begin a three-week training exercise with a brand-new team in a different country. Needless to say, the stress is present: I’m against the clock in getting spun up, understanding the mission, and building quick bonds with people I barely know.
But there’s a phrase I keep hearing that stuck with me this week, and I need to unpack it. So bear with me as I word vomit.
When you pin on the mighty rank of Major, all sorts of unsolicited advice gets hurled your way:
- Your network is your greatest ally. Make friends, not enemies.
- You’re no longer the action officer—you manage the action officer.
- You are now responsible for making the system work. The true sign of success is when the system keeps running after you’re gone.
It’s that third point that’s been grinding my gears.
Because here’s the thing: without people, what are systems?
As I start to learn the personalities and processes in this new organization, I’m realizing just how much work it will take—not just to build a well-oiled machine, but to build people who know how to run it. You can’t “fix the system” without developing the humans who make it go.
When junior leaders blame the Army for their misfortunes, Sam and I are quick to remind them: The Army didn’t do this to you. A person did. The Army isn’t some sentient force with a vendetta—it’s a collection of people, their decisions, and their priorities.
Same goes for “the system.”
When a task gets missed or a product falls short, it’s easy to say the system failed. But more often than not?
The humans running it didn’t know how to make it work.
Until the day our AI robot overlords start generating taskings and manning gate guard duty, this is still a human-led force. And our systems are only as strong as the junior leaders we invest in to manage them.
I’ve been saying this since I was a Lieutenant, and I’m still clapping my hands about it as a Major:
We. Don’t. Spend. Enough. Time. Developing. People.
We give a captain the task of flipping a brigade operations order down to the battalion level—but when they don’t conduct staff analysis or translate guidance well, what do we do?
Do we sit down and walk them through how brigade requirements affect our subordinate units?
Or do we red pen the operations order, shove it back across the table, and move on?
Too often, we choose the latter.
Because it’s faster.
Because it gets us the product we need.
Maybe, because we don’t quite understand it ourselves (because someone didn’t teach us).
But it misses the point.
Leaders in the Army don’t like to say we’re “results-oriented,” but their demands suggest otherwise. We say the ends don’t justify the means, but that is not what our actions say.
Sara’s Spicy Take: maybe it’s time to reevaluate what results actually matter.
What if it’s not just about how many exercises we’ve planned, how many briefings we’ve delivered, or how many checklists we’ve completed?
What if we started tracking something harder to quantify—but far more important?
- How many lieutenants left your team with a better understanding of mission command—not just how to submit a PERSTAT?
- How many captains gained the confidence to run a battalion TOC—not because they figured it out alone, but because someone took the time to coach them?
- How many NCOs left your formation better equipped to build their own teams—not just execute someone else’s plan?
Those are the results that endure.
Not because they look good in a PowerPoint, but because they echo in the future leaders who carry them forward.
That’s how we create depth.
That’s how we build resilience.
That’s how we strengthen the system—from the inside out.
So here’s my challenge—to leaders at every echelon:
Let’s stop measuring success by how clean the slide deck looks, how many tasks we accomplish ahead of the suspense, or how well the machine keeps running after we’re gone.
Let’s measure it by how many leaders we build.
Let’s be the ones who invest in understanding, not just execution.
Who slow down enough to teach, not just correct.
Who choose development over convenience.
Let’s stop red-inking our way to short-term results and start building people – not systems – that outlast us.
Because if we’re not investing in the humans behind the system… what exactly are we leading?
MAJ Sara Roger is a Field Artillery Officer who enjoys living life to the fullest with her best friend and husband, MAJ Sam Balch (also a Field Artillery Officer). She reflects on life, culture, and the Army profession on her blog, Morale is High.
