Each morning, the Russian writer Leo Tolstoy got up and read his notebook of personally-curated passages from his favorite books (he later published this as A Calendar of Wisdom).
In his diary, he wrote, “I felt that I had been elevated to great spiritual and moral heights by communication with the best and wisest people whose books I read and whose thoughts I selected for my Circle of Reading… What can be more precious than to communicate every day with the wisest men of the world?”
Lately, I’ve started a similar practice. Next to my chair is a stack of books that contain short daily passages that I can read in maybe 2-5 minutes and jump start reflection.
The books and authors I’ve chosen for myDaily Circle of Reading focus on subjects that interest me, or on areas of my life where I know I still have work to do.
For those of you who struggle to find time to read and feel like time isn’t on your side—because you’re too busy, too distracted, or too mentally taxed to take on another book—this practice may be worth considering: create your own daily circle of reading.
In 2019, I hit a professional and personal breaking point. I was investigated as a “toxic”, or counterproductive, leader. I attempted suicide that year too. I survived both—and what followed was a long, humbling healing process. That’s why I wrote to you then (First Article, Second Article).
Today, I want to share what it felt like to be on the receiving end of an investigation—and what I’ve learned since about how leaders can better support those going through it.
I feel a responsibility to support others who find themselves in that same position. Having lived through both an investigation and a separation board, I carry two perspectives: the experience of the subject, and the responsibility of the leader.
To those under investigation:
You still matter. This is true no matter what you did nor what others accuse you of.
The first statement is not easy to manifest and believe when you are branded a “subject”. You need to have people in your life that will remind you of your worth (because it’s easy to forget).
The hard part is letting them. If you give those people permission to stay close, they can help steady you and pull you back up. Your leaders can—and should—be among them.
Lieutenant General Tony Hale, the Army G-2, joins Joe for a conversation on military intelligence, judgment, and decision-making in modern war. Drawing on nearly four decades of service, Hale reflects on the evolution of the intelligence profession—from red pens and acetate maps to AI-enabled platforms—and why human judgment still matters most.
Hale shares his path into military intelligence, challenges common misconceptions about the field, and explains why intelligence is foundational to maneuver, lethality, and command. From battalion S2 shops to JSOC, Afghanistan, and the Army’s highest intelligence roles, he offers a clear view of how intelligence professionals shape outcomes across every echelon.
They discuss the responsibility of “putting your rank on the table,” developing junior analysts, and creating environments where ideas matter more than hierarchy. The conversation also explores self-development, operating amid disinformation, balancing OSINT with historical context, and how AI can enhance—but never replace— disciplined thinking.
In this episode, LTG Hale and Joe explore:
Why “lethality starts with intelligence”
The role of intelligence in enabling decision dominance
The limits of AI and the enduring value of human judgment
Preparing for future conflict while mastering the fundamentals
Whether you’re an intelligence professional, commander, or leader navigating uncertainty, this conversation is a reminder that seeing clearly—and thinking well—remains the decisive advantage.
On the release of his latest thriller, The Viper: A Zig and Nola Novel, Brad Meltzer joins Joe for an in-depth conversation on writing, curiosity, service, and the often-hidden moments that shape a life. From bestselling thrillers to children’s books, Meltzer reflects on how stories—both real and imagined—help us make sense of who we are, what we’ve lived through, and the paths we choose moving forward.
Drawing on his own unlikely origin story, Meltzer shares how a single teacher’s encouragement set him on the path to becoming a writer, why falling in love with the process matters more than chasing outcomes, and how curiosity has been the throughline of his career. They explore how paying attention—to people, details, and quiet acts of kindness—can open doors we didn’t even know existed.
The conversation also dives into Meltzer’s deep connection to the military community, from his work with the USO to the research behind his Zig and Nola thriller series set at Dover Air Force Base. Together, Joe and Brad discuss service, sacrifice, grief, and why storytelling can help destigmatize mental health struggles—especially for those transitioning out of uniform.
In this episode, Brad Meltzer and Joe also explore:
How one teacher’s belief can change the trajectory of a life
Why curiosity is a more powerful tool than talent
Falling in love with the process—not the outcome—of creative work
What writing thrillers has taught Meltzer about human nature
Why Dover Air Force Base became the heart of his Zig and Nola series
How small acts of kindness ripple outward in unexpected ways
The challenge of transitioning from a life of constant motion to stillness
Why seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness
How reading builds empathy, critical thinking, and resilience
Why transformation is the hardest, and most important, kind of change
Whether you’re a writer, a leader, a veteran, or someone navigating a transition, this conversation is a reminder that paying attention, staying curious, and honoring the quiet work of becoming can lead to a life richer than any plan you could have written in advance.
The man handed me the document fresh off the printer.
“Make sure you keep this in a safe place,” he said. “This is your proof of service. Probably the most important document you’ll ever own.”
I looked down at the still-warm DD214, and a sudden realization hit me: the last twenty years of my life were physically represented in fourteen lines of print.
Decorations. Medals. Badges. Deployments.
All of it fit neatly into Boxes 13 and 18 of an official government document.
At first, I felt unsettled.
That’s it?
All those years away. All the sleepless nights. All the ambition, drive, and sacrifice—compressed into two square boxes?
My moment of intense reflection was quickly interrupted.
“Oh yeah—your flag, certificate from the Chief of Staff of the Army, and your retirement pin are on the table over there,” he said, already turning back to his desk to continue processing paperwork. “Don’t forget to grab those.”
I noticed it wasn’t even the current Chief of Staff. They must have been trying to get rid of old ones. I didn’t say anything. I just left.
General Christopher Donahue, commanding general of U.S. Army Europe and Africa joins Joe for a wide-ranging conversation on leadership, culture, and what it takes to drive real change at scale across massive, dispersed organizations.
Having led at the division, corps, and now theater Army level, Donahue reflects on what doesn’t change as responsibility grows. Regardless of rank or scope, leaders must still create belief in the why, articulate a clear vision, translate that vision into a workable plan, and embed it into culture and process so change actually sticks.
They also explore what is changing rapidly. From the impact of emerging technologies to the realities of modern warfare—where sensing, drones, and data shape every decision—they discuss why leaders must continuously adapt, integrate new tools, and keep developing themselves to stay ahead. The conversation reinforces a timeless truth: while the tools evolve, leadership remains the decisive factor.
In this episode, General Donahue and Joe also explore:
Why culture without process is just wishful thinking
How leaders turn intent into execution through clear systems and standards
Why meaningful change must be measured, not just announced
How repetition, standards, and accountability build real readiness
What improved culture looks like when performance rises and negative indicators fall
Why realistic training standards matter—especially under stress
Avoiding groupthink by rotating teams and encouraging honest feedback
Creating a climate where people can speak truth to power without fear
Why leaders should never expect to fight the last war again
The growing challenge of offense in a world of constant sensing and surveillance
How technology, data, and modeling are reshaping how leaders think about risk and capability
Why, in the end, it still always comes back to leadership
Whether you’re leading a small team or a global organization, this conversation offers a grounded reminder that clarity, discipline, and culture—not slogans—are what allow leaders to turn complexity into coherent action.
During my time in company command, I was approached by a few mentors who encouraged me to consider the Broadening Opportunity Program (BOP) as I began thinking about what came next. I knew broadening was a common next step following command, but was not well-informed of the unique opportunities within the BOP. I knew following command that I wanted to explore avenues of professional growth that varied from my previous tactical experiences, but I wasn’t sure where to begin. LTC Brian Kitching, my former supervisor, met with me and encouraged me to apply to the General Wayne A. Downing Scholarship BOP as a Downing alumni himself. I felt underqualified but heeded his advice and I am so glad I did.
As I reflect on those conversations, I have come to realize that too many leaders—especially junior officers in command—are unaware of the broadening experiences available to them much like I was.
Broadening assignments are among the most unique opportunities in the Army to step away from the fast-paced environment and take time to invest in yourself in a different way. They are not time away from leadership. These opportunities are an investment in better leadership and new expertise that produce rejuvenated leaders who return to the force prepared to make the Army even better. Junior leaders should familiarize themselves with the BOP, do not self-select out, and apply.
What is the BOP?
A list of some of the Army’s most sought-after broadening assignments are consolidated in a catalog called the Broadening Opportunity Program (BOP). The BOP is a U.S. Army initiative that provides leaders with developmental assignments outside their traditional career paths, allowing them to gain new skills, experience immersion in different environments, and strengthen their leadership abilities. The BOP exists to invest and develop adaptable, strategically minded leaders who return to the force with broader perspectives and valuable expertise.
The BOP catalog is published annually through the Army Human Resources Command (HRC) as part of the Army’s talent management and leader development efforts. It offers a wide range of opportunities, from educational programs to industry internships. Candidates may pursue graduate degrees at universities such as Georgetown or Stanford, work with the legislative or executive branches of government in Washington D.C., serve overseas with interagency entities, or intern at corporations like Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) or Rand Corporation.
The fiscal year 2026 BOP contains 17 different opportunities, ranging from think tank internships to studying Artificial Intelligence at Carnegie Mellon University. BOPs are available to ranks from NCOs to lieutenant colonels, with the majority of opportunities targeted at post-key development captains. Most applications fall between March and July of the year prior to the report date.
Why the Army Needs Broadening
BOPs are designed to develop innovative leaders by providing experiences outside traditional career paths, supporting the Army’s 2025 Transformation Initiative. The skills gained through these assignments directly support the Army’s leadership priorities and concepts. This is particularly important in today’s operating environment, which is characterized by rapid technological change and increasing complexity.
We start each year with the best of intentions, and then life happens. Dry January becomes Damp January. The gym membership app turns into just another unused icon on the phone. Weekly date nights, diets, check-ins with family and friends—all of it gets swallowed by the day-to-day demands on our already overcrowded calendars.
And that’s usually where the “new year, new me” story ends.
Instead of treating intentions as abstract promises, I’ve started reframing them as a body of work. It’s a term artists use—painters, writers, musicians—to describe the accumulation of effort over time.
People often look at artists with a sense of awe. How do they produce so much? How does Steven Pressfield, at 82 years old, consistently publish a blog post every week? How does Ryan Holiday put out book after book, year after year? How does Taylor Swift keep releasing albums, era after era?
Since 2017, I’ve spent the final month of each year reflecting on the books I read over the previous twelve months. Without fail, a set of themes and lessons emerges from what initially feels like a random stack of titles and genres. Maybe those themes reflect where I am in my life; maybe they’re the lessons the books are trying to teach me. Either way, I hope they resonate with you the way they’ve spoken to me.
Lesson 1: Our beliefs are everything
Why do certain people or events trigger such strong emotional reactions in us? Why does it feel like others get all the breaks while some of us struggle just to get a seat at the table? Why do we act the way we act?
At the core of all those questions is a belief. A belief about ourselves. A belief about the people in our lives. A belief about how the world really works.
As General Stanley McChrystal writes in On Character, “Beliefs shape our perspectives, our biases, and often our behavior. They can form the foundation of selfless service or a launchpad for evil.” That influence runs far deeper than we tend to realize.
In How Emotions Are Made, Lisa Feldman Barrett explains that emotions are not automatic reactions, but predictions constructed by the brain to regulate the body. Our beliefs—along with past experience, culture, and context—feed that prediction system. If you come to believe you’re always going to get screwed over, your brain begins to anticipate threat in similar situations, producing negative emotions before you’re even consciously aware of what’s happening. What feels like a sudden emotional reaction is often a belief quietly doing its work.
We see this play out everywhere. A belief in control and destiny drives Sam Zemurray to become a tyrant in the banana trade in The Fish That Ate the Whale. A belief in the moral necessity of freedom compels a group of college students to dig a tunnel beneath the Berlin Wall to rescue families from authoritarian rule in Tunnel 29. And a belief in the obligation to report the truth inspires a group of women journalists to risk their lives covering the Vietnam War in War Torn.
Our beliefs sit at the root of everything we do—and everything we avoid. That’s why it matters to examine them, not just the beliefs we claim to hold, but the ones operating beneath the surface. The ones that cause us to bristle at an offhand comment, read hostility into a neutral email, or shut down when someone offers feedback we didn’t ask for. Those reactions rarely come from the moment itself; they come from the stories we already believe about ourselves, other people, and the world.
The work, then, is to remain curious about those stories—to resist becoming so convinced of our own rightness that we stop being willing to reexamine the beliefs shaping our behavior.
Lesson 2: History doesn’t repeat, but it does instruct
For the second year in a row, I’ve traveled to Dallas for the Military Appreciation Bowl in an effort to talk to young men and women about the opportunities for serving in our Nation’s military. The multi-day event includes championship games and brings together young high school athletes from all over the country for a National Combine. At the Combine, over 1500 kids are evaluated by professional and collegiate-level coaches on their speed, strength, technique, and potential, and then given a grade.
Regardless of the story they believe about themselves, whether that’s the one that says they are future All-Americans, future Heisman trophy winners, future professional athletes in the NFL, they will get a score card on their abilities.
For some this will reinforce the story.
For others, it will shatter it.
Once they get the feedback, it’s up to them what they do with it. The choice is theirs.
I admire these kids. It can be scary confronting reality.
As the Military Appreciation Bowl Director Rich McGuinness told me this weekend, “It takes courage to face where you are.”
That’s not only true for the kids participating in the combine, it’s true for all of us.
When I look back on a career’s worth of decisions, I can trace most of my motives to three sources: necessity, passion, and ego.
The first is straightforward. I did a lot of things because they were required of me. I moved across the country. I deployed to the Middle East. I checked the barracks on a Saturday night. Those were the costs of the job.
I also did a lot of things out of passion. I did them for the sake of doing them. I woke up early to read, write, and reflect. I fought for assignments I thought I would enjoy, even if there was a professional risk in doing so. I leaned into work that felt meaningful, even when it was hard.
The third motive, ego, was harder to spot. It had a way of hiding behind necessity and passion. Like a gold miner, I had to shake the sifter to see what was really left in the pan.
My ego was often drawn to the idea of the job, the status and respect that came with it. I enjoyed telling people what I was about to do more than actually doing the work itself.
Other times, my ego was drawn to the idea of myself, and I avoided roles I dismissed as “beneath me,” not because they lacked value, but because they didn’t fit the image I wanted to protect.
Eventually I learned that necessity and passion can carry me through bad seasons, through fumbling starts, setbacks, and dead ends. Even when the outcome isn’t what I hoped for, I can live with it if I did my duty or it fed something I genuinely cared about.
Alpha Coffee co-founder and retired Army lieutenant colonel Carl Churchill joins Joe for a candid conversation on leadership, resilience, and what it really takes to build something that lasts after the uniform comes off.
After serving more than two decades in the Army, Carl found himself facing an unexpected second career shaped not by careful planning, but by crisis. In the wake of the Great Recession, he and his wife Lori cashed out their savings and took an all-in leap to build Alpha Coffee from their basement—navigating years of uncertainty, near-misses, and hard-earned lessons before the business finally found its footing. Drawing on his military background, Stoic philosophy, and a refusal to quit, Carl shares how discipline, culture, and clarity of purpose carried him through nearly a decade of struggle.
In this conversation, Joe and Carl explore what leadership looks like when there’s no rank to hide behind: how military lessons translate into entrepreneurship, why culture matters more than strategy, and how leaders must adapt their style as contexts and generations change. Along the way, they reflect on stress, perspective, boundaries, and the quiet confidence that comes from having faced truly hard things before.
In this episode, Joe and Carl also explore:
Tips for making great coffee
Why Carl chose to walk away from promotion to keep leading people, not staffs
What “burning the boats” looks like when your family and future are on the line
How military hardship inoculates leaders against stress and uncertainty
Why culture—not strategy—is the true differentiator between great and failing teams
Leading younger generations without abandoning standards or expectations
The challenge of setting boundaries when you genuinely love your work
Whether you’re navigating life after military service, building something from scratch, or leading people through uncertainty, this episode offers a grounded reminder that the habits forged in discipline, humility, and persistence still matter—long after the mission changes.
