![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icarusSomeone asked on a Yahoo Group what are some thing that would confuse and frustrate a new civilian employee of the Air Force, i.e., one Daniel Jackson.
From working with former Air Force for military contractors,
I'd say the fact that there's a form for every form, and a procedure
for every procedure. And that the official way to do things and the
*actual* way are entirely different things. The actual way is
unwritten. Somehow military people seem to learn which form is
important for what, how to keep inside the rules without actually
*doing* everything you're supposed to do.
For someone new who wants to do it right, you can waste a huge amount
of time on something nobody actually does (or they do, but only with
a lick and a promise). And there is no logical sense to it, nor will
anyone care for suggestions to improve efficiency. You just have to
accept the system as it is.
If you rebel against the forms, you can get really screwed up, very
fast. You'll find yourself stymied on projects, your pay held up, you
could wind up under investigation, or something as stupid as your
department no longer has an official budget because someone decided
you don't exist because you didn't send in form X-4712(b), as
indicated your L-f5, which you sent in last year and indicated
plainly that your X-4712(b) would be due in June of this year.
Culturally speaking, the military believes in the "idiot-proof
system." That is, they believe that if you control people enough,
make the procedures *specific* enough, blind obedience will prevent
all errors. They don't want you to think (unless you're an officer,
and even then it depends), they want you to do your job, which means
fitting your slot nicely like a cog in the machine.
Then there's the particularly strange way the military deals with
money:
Daniel: Why can't I order any decent pens?
Jack pounds on the pinball machine in his office: Damn. I almost beat
my high score. *glances up* What was that?
Daniel: Pens. These pens are shit. Why can't order some that perhaps
work?
Jack: Sorry, Daniel. Budget cuts.
Jack fires up his pinball machine again.
Daniel: So... then how did you get a pinball machine?
Jack shrugs: The Navy wanted them for their aircraft carriers, but
the Air Force wouldn't let them have pinball machines unless we
could, too.
Daniel: So I'm stuck with three-cent pens that are essential to my
work, and I can't order a fifty-cent pen. But if wanted, I could get
a pinball machine for my office?
Jack: Yep. That's about the size of it. It's all about *looking* like
you're saving money, if that helps.
Daniel heaves a sigh of disgust and starts to turn away.
Jack: Oh -- and Daniel? Don't use the paper cups around here either.
They'll leak if you leave coffee on your desk for ten minutes.
Daniel's eyes widen: Oh, shit-! *runs to his office*
From working with former Air Force for military contractors,
I'd say the fact that there's a form for every form, and a procedure
for every procedure. And that the official way to do things and the
*actual* way are entirely different things. The actual way is
unwritten. Somehow military people seem to learn which form is
important for what, how to keep inside the rules without actually
*doing* everything you're supposed to do.
For someone new who wants to do it right, you can waste a huge amount
of time on something nobody actually does (or they do, but only with
a lick and a promise). And there is no logical sense to it, nor will
anyone care for suggestions to improve efficiency. You just have to
accept the system as it is.
If you rebel against the forms, you can get really screwed up, very
fast. You'll find yourself stymied on projects, your pay held up, you
could wind up under investigation, or something as stupid as your
department no longer has an official budget because someone decided
you don't exist because you didn't send in form X-4712(b), as
indicated your L-f5, which you sent in last year and indicated
plainly that your X-4712(b) would be due in June of this year.
Culturally speaking, the military believes in the "idiot-proof
system." That is, they believe that if you control people enough,
make the procedures *specific* enough, blind obedience will prevent
all errors. They don't want you to think (unless you're an officer,
and even then it depends), they want you to do your job, which means
fitting your slot nicely like a cog in the machine.
Then there's the particularly strange way the military deals with
money:
Daniel: Why can't I order any decent pens?
Jack pounds on the pinball machine in his office: Damn. I almost beat
my high score. *glances up* What was that?
Daniel: Pens. These pens are shit. Why can't order some that perhaps
work?
Jack: Sorry, Daniel. Budget cuts.
Jack fires up his pinball machine again.
Daniel: So... then how did you get a pinball machine?
Jack shrugs: The Navy wanted them for their aircraft carriers, but
the Air Force wouldn't let them have pinball machines unless we
could, too.
Daniel: So I'm stuck with three-cent pens that are essential to my
work, and I can't order a fifty-cent pen. But if wanted, I could get
a pinball machine for my office?
Jack: Yep. That's about the size of it. It's all about *looking* like
you're saving money, if that helps.
Daniel heaves a sigh of disgust and starts to turn away.
Jack: Oh -- and Daniel? Don't use the paper cups around here either.
They'll leak if you leave coffee on your desk for ten minutes.
Daniel's eyes widen: Oh, shit-! *runs to his office*