By LTC Steven Huckleberry
Commanders are entrusted with many authorities, but few are as consequential, and as little prepared for, as the execution of non-judicial punishment (NJP) under Article 15 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Unlike training management, operational planning, or ethical decision-making, NJP is rarely approached as a skill that requires deliberate education. Yet its effects are immediate and personal: careers are altered, families are impacted, reputations are shaped, and a unit’s perception of fairness and legitimacy is either reinforced or quietly eroded.
Early in my career, as a battery commander, I adjudicated an Article 15 with little formal preparation beyond a statutory briefing in a company pre-command course and a procedural checklist. I had never seen one, so like many commanders, I relied heavily on my First Sergeant in the moments before the proceedings to ensure I understood what was about to occur. From my anecdotal inquiries, that experience was not unique. Even in formal pre-command courses, instruction on the law of armed conflict often eclipses meaningful discussion of NJP, despite the fact that non-judicial punishment is far more likely to confront commanders early and often.
Over time, I became increasingly uncomfortable with how ad hoc and personality-driven the NJP process can be. Commanders are expected to balance unit discipline with individual justice; emotion with logic; deterrence with rehabilitation. They are asked to make decisions that carry second- and third-order effects, often under time pressure and with incomplete information, while projecting confidence and moral clarity to Soldiers who may be experiencing the most consequential moment of their careers. Yet, we rarely provide leaders a deliberate framework for doing so.
The consequences of this gap are subtle but real. When NJP feels improvised, opaque, or unevenly applied, Soldiers may comply with punishment while losing faith in the institution administering it. Leaders may leave the process uncertain whether they achieved justice or merely expedience. Over time, this erodes trust through accumulated doubt about whether discipline is exercised thoughtfully, consistently, and with genuine concern for both the individual and the unit.
This article proposes a framework for executing NJP deliberately. It does not claim to be definitive or universally applicable. Rather, it reflects a system I developed to better understand the Soldiers who stand before me, the leadership systems that shaped their behavior, and the implications of any decision I make. The intent is threefold. First, to provide incoming company-level commanders a practical framework for exercising NJP with rigor and legitimacy. Second, to offer battalion-level commanders a method for compensating for the distance that naturally grows as formations expand. Finally, to propose leader development practices that prepare future leaders—well before command—to assume this responsibility with maturity and confidence.
At its core, this approach treats non-judicial punishment not as an administrative burden, but as a form of stewardship: stewardship of authority, stewardship of people, and stewardship of trust within the profession of arms.
The Institutional Gap: Why We Teach NJP Poorly
The Army does not ignore non-judicial punishment. Commanders are briefed on its legal foundations, its procedural requirements, and the rights afforded to Soldiers. Judge advocates rightly emphasize due process and compliance with the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Yet what is largely absent from professional military education is guidance on how commanders should think about NJP as a leadership act rather than a legal event.
This imbalance is understandable, matters such as the law of armed conflict carries external visibility and strategic consequence. Failures in that domain risk international condemnation and moral injury at scale. NJP, by contrast, is internal, routine, and uncomfortable. It unfolds behind closed doors and rarely produces immediate institutional learning unless something goes wrong. As a result, it is often treated as a technical obligation to be executed correctly rather than a command responsibility to be exercised deliberately.
The practical effect is that most leaders learn NJP through observation and imitation. They absorb what they have seen, good and bad, from prior commanders and replicate it when their turn comes. This informal transmission produces wide variation in practice. Some commanders approach NJP with care and humility; others rely on instinct, temperament, or precedent. Few are taught how to guard against cognitive biases, how to extract meaningful context from subordinate leaders, or how to design a process that signals legitimacy to the Soldier and the formation.
This variability matters. Discipline is not merely about correcting misconduct; it is about reinforcing norms, signaling values, and maintaining trust. When outcomes appear inconsistent or unexplained, Soldiers may conclude that punishment reflects who you are rather than what they did. Leaders, in turn, may come to view NJP as something to be endured rather than mastered.
Moreover, NJP becomes more difficult as leaders rise in echelon. Battalion-level commanders often know far less about the Soldiers who stand before them than they did at company level. Without a deliberate system for gathering context, they risk making decisions based on fragments: a charge sheet, a summary, or a single perspective offered too confidently by a senior subordinate. In such cases, punishment may be legally sound yet professionally hollow.
If the Army expects commanders to exercise NJP wisely, it must treat the process as something that can and should be designed deliberately. That design need not be complex, but it must be intentional. The framework that follows is one attempt to do so: a structured approach that separates understanding from judgment, protects against premature conclusions, and reinforces the legitimacy of command authority at every stage of the process.
A Deliberate Framework for Executing Non-Judicial Punishment
The framework described below is built around five deliberate phases: pre-work, a leader context meeting, the formal proceeding, decision and follow-through, and leader development. While these phases are sequential, their purpose is not bureaucratic efficiency but cognitive discipline. Each phase is designed to force the commander and the chain of command to slow down, separate understanding from judgment, and ensure that decisions are informed by context rather than impulse or emotion.
This approach rests on three core assumptions. First, commanders owe Soldiers more than procedural correctness; they owe them seriousness of effort. Second, discipline perceived as legitimate is more effective than discipline perceived as arbitrary, regardless of severity. Third, NJP is not only a corrective tool but also a leadership system, one that shapes how leaders think about responsibility, care, and authority.
The framework is intentionally leader-intensive. It places the greatest burden on first-line leaders and company command teams, while preserving the commander’s responsibility to decide. It also acknowledges an uncomfortable truth: commanders will never have perfect information. The goal, therefore, is not certainty, but sufficiency; enough understanding to act with confidence, humility, and consistency.
Phase One: Pre-Work; Ensuring Leaders Know Their Soldier
The most consequential phase of non-judicial punishment occurs before anyone enters the commander’s office. Pre-work is where leaders demonstrate whether they truly know their Soldier or merely supervise their performance. It is also where the commander signals expectations: NJP will not be adjudicated based on surface-level summaries or unsupported opinions.
Responsibility for this phase rests primarily with first-line leaders and company command teams. They are closest to the Soldier, and therefore best positioned to provide context. When they fail to do so, no amount of command-level deliberation can compensate.
At a minimum, leaders must be prepared to discuss five areas. First, financial context. Punishments that involve forfeiture of pay or reduction in rank carry immediate consequences for a Soldier’s family and stability. Leaders should understand not only what a Soldier earns, but how they spend, what obligations they carry, and how financial stress may affect rehabilitation. Resources offered by Army Community Services, such as Financial Literacy, are not ancillary; their use reflects leadership maturity.
Second, performance history and context to the situation. Was the incident a deviation from an otherwise solid record, or part of a pattern that has been addressed through prior counseling? What is going on in the Soldier’s life that may provide insight into the incident? Often, alcohol use and acting out is a poor stress coping strategy. Leaders who advocate for severe punishment without documented attempts at correction reveal as much about their own development as the Soldier’s.
Third, behavioral considerations. Leaders should be prepared to assess how a Soldier is likely to respond to punishment. Will the experience prompt reflection and growth, or exacerbate resentment and disengagement? One purpose of punishment is rehabilitation; ignoring individual disposition undermines that aim.
Finally, administrative realities matter. Pending PCS moves, approaching ETS dates, retention control points, educational coursework in after duty hours, and family obligations all shape how punishment is experienced. These considerations should not excuse misconduct, but they should inform the wise administration of punishment rather than its mechanical application.
Codifying the expectation to be able to discuss these matters serves two purposes. It standardizes preparation and removes ambiguity, and it signals to leaders that coming unprepared is itself a professional failure. Over time, this shifts the culture from reactive discipline to informed accountability.
Phase Two: The Leader Context Meeting
Before any formal proceeding, I convene a leader context meeting with the entire chain of command. This meeting is deliberately not about guilt, innocence, or punishment. Its purpose is understanding.
Ground rules are explicit. We do not discuss the incident itself or the impending NJP. We do not recommend punishment. What we do is provide context: who this Soldier is, how they have been led, and what factors shaped the moment that brought them here.
The structure of the discussion matters. I start with the first-line leader and work deliberately up the chain. Rank does not confer priority of voice. If a senior leader speaks out of turn, I stop them. This is not a courtesy; it is a guardrail against anchoring bias. Early statements disproportionately shape subsequent judgment, and those closest to the Soldier often carry the most relevant insight.
Each leader speaks in turn. I ask questions, but I avoid chastisement. Defensive leaders shut down; reflective leaders engage. If shortcomings emerge, and they often do, I address them after the Article 15, not during this meeting. The objective here is candor, not correction.
This meeting also serves as a diagnostic tool for leadership. The quality of insight offered reveals how leaders think about responsibility, care, and accountability. Over time, patterns emerge. Leaders who consistently lack specificity or default to emotion require development just as surely as Soldiers who violate standards.
If I leave this meeting without sufficient understanding of the Soldier and the leadership environment, I reschedule. Proceeding without context risks reducing NJP to theater rather than legitimacy.
Phase Three: The Formal Proceeding – Legitimacy Through Professionalism
The formal Article 15 proceeding should feel unmistakably professional. Formality is not about intimidation; it is about legitimacy. Soldiers should leave believing that a serious process occurred, led by a commander who understood the situation and respected their rights.
I approach the proceeding with clarity and restraint. The Soldier is advised of their rights and afforded every opportunity they are entitled to. Their right to remain silent is respected without inference. Yet most Soldiers choose to speak, not because they expect absolution, but because they want to be heard.
When Soldiers do speak, commanders should listen actively and ask difficult questions. Not questions designed to trap, but questions that illuminate systems: counseling regularity, leader engagement, peer influence, weekend accountability. These questions often cause leaders in the room more discomfort than the Soldier, and rightly so. They expose whether misconduct reflects an isolated lapse or cumulative leadership failure.
The goal is not to litigate beyond necessity, but to ensure understanding. A Soldier can accept punishment and still lose faith in the institution if the process feels perfunctory or predetermined. Professionalism, consistency, and respect mitigate that risk.
Phase Four: Decision and Follow-Through
After the Soldier presents their matters and temporarily departs, I solicit subordinate input, again starting with the lowest-ranking leader. I ask whether they believe the Soldier is guilty and what punishment they consider appropriate. This input informs but does not decide. Command authority carries responsibility; delegation of judgment is abdication.
Once a decision is made, I own it fully. I explain the rationale to the Soldier, emphasize expectations, and speak deliberately about the path forward. I end most proceedings by reinforcing a simple truth: every leader in the room wants the Soldier to succeed, but success requires reflection, ownership, and accountability.
Follow-through is non-negotiable. I track compliance with punishment, check in with leaders at designated points, and make a point to see the Soldier personally, often informally, in motor pools or after COB duty hours. These moments matter. They demonstrate that punishment did not sever the leader-Soldier relationship.
Phase Five: NJP as Leader Development
Non-judicial punishment is also a powerful leader development tool. We do not formally teach NJP; we model it. As a result, leaders internalize whatever they observe, good or bad, and carry it forward.
Deliberate leader development can change that trajectory. Written expectations, mock proceedings, and structured discussions demystify the process. These efforts should not be reserved for officers. Leaders at the sergeant level and above routinely shape outcomes long before NJP reaches a commander’s desk.
This investment has exponential effects. Leaders who understand NJP as a system, rather than an event, are better prepared to contribute meaningfully when the moment comes. They are also more likely to treat discipline as an act of stewardship rather than enforcement.
Discipline as Stewardship
Non-judicial punishment is not administrative work. It is one of the most personal expressions of command authority a leader will exercise. Done poorly, it erodes trust quietly and persistently. Done deliberately, it reinforces legitimacy, accountability, and care.
Commanders owe Soldiers preparation, seriousness, and humanity. The framework offered here is one attempt to meet that obligation, not by eliminating discretion, but by structuring it. Discipline executed with legitimacy strengthens not only the unit, but the profession itself.
Lieutenant Colonel Steven Huckleberry is currently serving as the Squadron Commander for the Field Artillery Squadron, 2nd Cavalry Regiment, located at Rose Barrack, Germany. He has served in numerous assignments from the platoon level and up over the past twenty years, to include DIVARTY S3, Battalion XO, and OC/T at the National Training Center. Most recently, he was an Andrew Goodpaster Scholar at the School of Advanced Military Studies (SAMS).
