Part A: Concrete Experience
Smoke. Thick, black smoke all around me. Despite being pitch black outside in the middle of the night, I could still see the smoke backlit by an orange glow. My eyes couldn’t focus on anything as it was like seeing the world through a black curtain. As I turned onto the street, I felt like I was driving into a pungent cloud. Amidst the confusion and bustling activity, I managed to find a driveway to park my truck out of the way.
I don’t even remember getting out of my truck. It was just so fluid to put the truck in park, hop out, and grab the giant bag out of the back seat. I was on autopilot unzipping the top of the bag and unpacking its contents onto my truck’s hard bed cover. I had done this hundreds of times before, but only a handful of times under this type of pressure. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made my hands numb as I quickly put on my boots, pants, jacket, and red helmet that said, “Elon Fire Department.” I mention the color of the helmet because in the fire service, the helmet color represents rank. My red helmet meant that I was a captain, just one step below a chief officer. As I turned around towards the house on fire, I realized that over the radio I hadn’t heard any of the department’s three chiefs say they were responding to this scene.
I quickly crossed the street and walked towards the house when I saw the other captain wearing his gear, an air pack, and a mask as he pulled a hose line toward the front door. I briefly stopped him and said that apparently none of the chiefs were responding so one of us had to take command of this scene. He looked at me and said, “Good luck! I’m going to fight fire!” I grabbed my radio and with one push of the button, told everyone who was on scene, still responding, in the communications center, or just listening that I would be the incident command for this scene. At less than thirty years old I couldn’t help but notice that I was surrounded by firefighters who had more years of experience than I had been alive.
Incident command is the pinnacle of leadership, responsibility, and decision making on a fire scene. I was overwhelmed and honestly a little scared thinking that I was ultimately responsible for all the decisions being made on the scene including how we were going to attack the fire, search the house for victims, vent the smoke out to improve visibility, and utilize our resources. God forbid if someone got hurt or killed at this scene, that would also fall back on me. My perspective on leadership had always been that if things went well, it was because of the firefighters, but if things went bad, that was the fault of incident command. I believed a leader should take all the blame but give all the praise.
I had to take a quick inventory of the scene. I knew I had more firetrucks and firefighters from surrounding districts already on the way. Our first two trucks were there, and one even had two hoses pulled to the front and back doors. We had a fire hydrant across the street from the house, so I didn’t have to worry about our water supply. I tried to walk around the entire outside of the house to determine what areas were on fire, but there was a fence transecting the property on the West side, so I only had limited visibility and a partial assessment of the house. To make things worse, the house had several lateral additions over the years and now looked like a “H” when viewed from above. Both semi-private courtyards on the north and south of the house were fenced in with locked gates. I made a note that these areas would pose significant hazards for ingress and egress. Most of the fire seemed to be in the south-west leg of the “H”, but it was rapidly spreading towards the rest of the house.
As I completed my walk around the house, I texted and called all three chief officers to let them know we had an actual house fire. It was highly unusual for them not to respond even in the middle of the night. I only got one chief to answer the phone and he simply stated that he had heard the call and asked if I needed anything. None of the chief officers ever showed up on scene or called back that night.
As the scene leader, I had to immediately start making decisions that would impact the rest of our operations. The crew on our first arriving fire engine had already made countless decisions as they pulled their line into the house to attack the fire. I felt like I was playing chess, but someone else had made the first five moves before I got there. Sure, I had practiced making these decisions during training exercises, but never during a real incident. For the next four hours I stood in the front yard and told people, many of them far more experienced than me, what to do and we successfully extinguished the fire. Despite being deemed a success, most of the house was destroyed by fire, smoke, and several thousand gallons of water, as is very common. More importantly, there were no injuries suffered by the homeowner, firefighters, or onlookers.
Part B: Reflective Observation
In reflecting on this incident, I have a very different perspective than I did in the moment. Initially I thought that the other captain letting me be command was a vote of confidence and a nod to my initiative to be a leader in the department. Looking back, he just didn’t want to do it. Most of the “fun” on a fire department is being in the burning house attacking the fire. He was focused on having fun and didn’t necessarily care about the bigger picture of positions that needed to be filled. Me taking command was not him believing in me but was rather egocentric of him.
At the time, I often felt like I was doing everything “right.” That may not have appeared to be the case though. To the other firefighters on scene who were busy going through their own checklists of things that needed to be done, they may have seen me spend the first few minutes on my cell phone. Not realizing that I was attempting to notify the chiefs of this critical incident, they could have easily assumed that I didn’t know what I was doing and was instead looking for practical or tactical advice. This assumption, if true, would have directly undermined me, and I wasn’t even aware of it in the moment.
One observation I was truly thankful for was the arrival of a chief from a neighboring department. Since this was our district, our personnel had authority over him on our scene, even though he was a chief in his own right. Looking back there were several times I had to make critical decisions and each time he was nearby. He asked leading questions like, “do you want my guys to do…” which was not only helpful, but highly respectful. He respected my position as the incident command but recognized that I likely needed some support and guidance in this position for the first time. That chief let me preserve my dignity while I was in fact learning from him. Through this approach, he was able to make me aware of decision factors and guide my way through this incident based on his more than thirty years of experience.
I still struggle with rationalizing why the chiefs behaved like they did that night. I will openly admit that the fire chief and I very often didn’t see eye to eye. In fact, he demoted me twice from captain to firefighter during his tenure. Given that history, I know he didn’t respond because of his overwhelming confidence in me. I also later learned that one of the chiefs made several phone calls to one of the full-time firefighters on scene to see how things were going. I felt like they were surreptitiously checking up on me and that doesn’t engrain trust! The only rational explanation I have been able to reason is that none of the three chiefs could physically respond. Perhaps they were at work, had been drinking, or were otherwise unavailable. More significantly, none of them ever followed up with me, offered to conduct a review of my decisions, or even said, “good job!” Without any explanation, I’m still left wondering why they didn’t want to invest in my development as a leader when I had successfully managed that scene.
Part C: Abstract Conceptualization
My experience as incident command of a working house fire highlights several concepts and theories from this course. When I first joined the fire department, I was very noticeably part of the out-group as an upper-middle class college student who was expected to return North each academic break and terminally upon graduation. Implicit Leadership Theory is the theory that first impressions guide people towards leaders who have similar interests and beliefs as them (Forsyth, 2018). In other words, when group members meet someone new, they unconsciously compare that person to their image of a successful leader for their group. As an inexperienced out-group member back in 2008, I am nearly positive no one at the fire department saw me as an eventual leader. Implicit Leadership Theory meant that their first impressions of me were simply too opposed to their vision of a fire department leader.
However, as I became more involved in the fire department and progressed through my certifications, I became part of the in-group and realized that Social Role Theory was beginning to benefit me. Social Role Theory is the idea that leadership is based on the role typically held by males in society and that most people equate “leader” with “male” (Forsyth, 2018). For subscribers of this theory, both aforementioned words are associated with the same or similar adjectives. Looking back, I am not naïve enough to think that Social Role Theory didn’t play at least some part in me getting promoted to Captain in the fire department. Firefighting has historically been a male dominated field, particularly in positions of leadership. So, the fact that I was male was a significant head start towards a supervisory position. Becoming part of the in-group, the erosion of Implicit Leadership Theory as I became known in the fire department, and the arguable benefits of Social Role Theory, among other factors, culminated in me arriving to the house fire in a leadership position as a Captain (Forsyth, 2018).
In reflecting on this experience, it’s fascinating to conceptualize my power during this incident. The authority within the fire department is based on the power bases discussed by Forsyth (2018) and Haslam et al. (2020). In essence, the chief has power because he has “control over resources and punishments” over those below him in rank (Forsyth, 2018, p. 238). In fact, every person in the hierarchy of the department shares this power over those below them. A significant component of this control is in reward power because, starting with the first line supervisor and progressing up to the chief, the leaders have increasing authority to award promotions, salaries, and other benefits like days off with pay (Forsyth, 2018; Haslam et al., 2020). The contrary to reward power is the ability for those same supervisors to demote, reduce pay, and award days off without pay through coercive power (Forsyth, 2018; Haslam et al., 2020). But, as a non-paid volunteer Captain, I didn’t have the authority or ability to use reward or coercive power. Sure, if a firefighter did something during this incident that was either really good, or really bad, I would let the chief know. But as a volunteer Captain there were no direct implications from me. Reward and coercive power were only tangentially relevant to me in this situation.
Another common power base is expert power which is often distributed throughout a fire department. The paid staff, rather than the volunteers, often have significantly more knowledge around firefighting because it’s quite literally their job. Other various people throughout the department are extremely knowledgeable in investigations, fire control, aerial operations, drones, ropes and rigging, knots, confined space, technical rescue, and a hundred other topics. Reflecting on this incident, I likely had some expert power through my leadership knowledge. For example, before I arrived on scene, no one had thought to assume incident command or consider the bigger picture. My experiences in leadership positions laid the foundation for my expert power base.
In addition to expert power, there were several other power bases at play in this situation. Referent power is the idea that people follow because of the relationships they’ve formed with the leader (Forsyth, 2018; Haslam et al., 2020). Informational power is generated when leaders have significant information and followers rely on them and seek them out for their information (Forsyth, 2018; Haslam et al., 2020). Legitimate power is given through a recognized leadership position in the group (Forsyth, 2018; Haslam et al., 2020). Through this event, I was able to leverage the relationships that I had built with the firefighters over the previous ten years. Perhaps Captain Curtis letting me take command actually was not just about him going to fight fire in the house but was also supported by the relationship and referent power I had developed with him. Regardless, informational power also became more developed as the incident unfolded. Through the natural progression of being incident command, I became the information hub for this incident, so members were increasingly coming to me about resources, assignments, etc. Finally, I held legitimate power through this incident because the chief had previously designated me as a Captain. That position made me a recognized leader and gave me legitimate power because people were supposed to follow my directions separate and apart from any reward or punishment. These power bases ebbed and flowed through the incident as I managed the scene.
Despite these various power bases, this was still a highly chaotic scene for which I felt I was not fully prepared. In his 2008 book Crucibles of leadership, Thomas presents the ideas of learning and leading with resilience through a crucible. Thomas describes the “crucible as a time of turbulence and profound tension” (Thomas, 2008, p. 55). These times often initially made leaders feel overwhelmed, lost, and unable to survive. On reflection though, many of those same leaders recounted these times as strengthening their adaptive capacity, which is to say they learned about themselves, the world, and how to make changes to both (Thomas, 2008). Resilience is a central component of improving adaptive capacity as resilience allows the leader to calmly resolve tension through new conditions (Thomas, 2008). As a learner and leader with resilience, Thomas (2008) suggests that it’s critical to both recognize and reframe the tension so that the leader can catalyze new and more stable conditions. Through his interviews, Thomas learned that this process is rarely siloed as, “collaboration and a supportive environment enhance the creative process” so “finding resolution is almost never done in complete isolation” (Thomas, 2008, pp. 64 and 66). In other words, leaders are often so involved in the process that they may lose the overhead perspective. Leaning on others for their observations and ideas often strengthens the final product. This learned process of resilience benefits the leader and the organization (Thomas, 2008).
Framing this event through the lens of Thomas (2008), this house fire was initially a very turbulent and tense scene. As my first time in command of a very active incident where people’s lives were in danger, I was overwhelmed to say the least. When the fire chief from the neighboring town arrived on scene, his tact and respect created a highly supportive environment. With his support, I was able to reframe this incident from one overwhelming life or death situation into a series of smaller progressive decisions. Together, we developed checkpoints and their accomplishments showed that I could successfully manage various components of this scene. My resilience improved through this incident because both living through the experience, and reflecting on it, have improved my adaptive capacity (Thomas, 2008).
In conceptualizing my involvement in this event, I also recognize that my leadership was more art than science which supports Thomas’s idea of leaders as expert performers (Thomas, 2008). Performers are always honing their craft and seeking to be better musicians, artists, and magicians. In the same vein, leaders should never stop striving to learn before, during, and after a crucible experience (Thomas, 2008). The process of experience to reflection is critical because effective leaders don’t just focus on the outcome. Just as athletes watch their game tapes, high performing leaders also reflect on the processes they used to achieve their outcomes. In other words, the experiential growth doesn’t stop just because the event, show, or game is over. With the house fire, we had “rehearsed” our response to similar events countless times. As a Captain, I had essentially been an understudy for the chief. Well, when the curtain opened on this performance, the chiefs weren’t there. So, I had to step into that role, and I am very thankful for the rehearsals we had prior. The stage was the front yard, the characters were cast, but the script was being written on the fly as we all performed our roles to the best of our abilities.
Part D: Active Experimentation
As a result of reflecting on this experience, I endeavor to create a personal learning strategy (Thomas, 2008) that will include many of these theories and concepts. Primarily, I want to further explore my power bases in various situations to understand how I can influence and motivate group members. McKee et al. (2008) discuss a progression in that “first, we realize that we actually have a good deal of power in our leadership roles, and second, we learn how to manage our own and others’ responses to our power and authority” (McKee, 2008, p. 14). Improving this understanding and management will provide enhanced clarity to my leadership styles.
The next component of my personal learning strategy is driven by Forsyth’s (2018) discussion surrounding team building activities. Typically, team building activities are out of the office, challenging and require team work to be successful, much like firefighting. These activities may include things “such as backpacking together in the wilderness, spending the day on a ropes course, or playing a paintball game against a rival team” (Forsyth, 2018, p. 367). I will work with our training officer to include team building activities in our weekly training nights. While the mechanics of firefighting are critical to learn and maintain, it’s just as important for our team to have trust in each other.
These team building activities are likely to generate some conflict, and I need to learn to be comfortable sitting with that conflict. I must recognize that there is resolution and growth through conflict. As Forsyth (2018) outlines, “because conflict is a ubiquitous aspect of group life, it must be managed to minimize its negative effects” (Forsyth, 2018, p. 409). Notice here that Forsyth doesn’t say, “eliminate” or some other wholly separating term when talking about negative effects being managed. No, Forsyth uses, “minimize” which is to say that the negative side effects, at most, can be mitigated and not entirely eliminated, and that’s OK. As an effective leader, I have to highlight the positive effects resultant from conflict that effectively overwhelm the negative effects to ensure there is a “net gain” instead of a “net loss.” This course has helped me view group conflict as a pathway or a spectrum wherein it’s possible to be both an unavoidable evil and a necessary good at different points, or even simultaneously.[1]
The next component of my personal learning strategy is the importance of always self-evaluating, which is never complete. Thomas (2008) discussed several ways to conduct a self-assessment which is certainly a learned skill. The more often we assess ourselves, the easier those self-assessments become (Thomas, 2008). This assignment has been a cathartic self-assessment in helping me recognize my leadership growth as a result of, and since, this incident. This incident also highlighted for me the importance of facilitating self-assessments for other firefighters, including current and future leaders, so that they can experience this same level of reflection, perspective, and growth.
The final component of this active experimentation is the idea that leaders need to actively cultivate the next few generations of leaders. Particularly in today’s world, it seems like increasing numbers of young people just want to be “internet famous” and don’t want to give back to their communities. As a result, fire department enrollments are down for both volunteers and their volunteer leaders. Current and prospective leaders, like us, must identify viable leaders down the line in order to encourage and mentor them towards leadership. This incident highlighted that at any point in time the department’s senior leadership may collectively or individually be unavailable for a critical incident. So, it’s our responsibility as current leaders to develop a succession plan for developing and mentoring the leaders of tomorrow.
References
Forsyth, D. R. (2018). Group dynamics. Cengage Learning.
Haslam, S. A., Reicher, S. D., & Platow, M. J. (2020). The new psychology of leadership: Identity, influence and power. Routledge.
McKee, A., Boyatzis, R. E., Johnston, F., & Johnston, F. (2008). Becoming a resonant leader: Develop your emotional intelligence, renew your relationships, sustain your effectiveness. Harvard Business Press.
Thomas, R. J. (2008). Crucibles of leadership: How to learn from experience to become a great leader. Harvard Business Press.
[1] As an aside, today now being May 4th (Star Wars Day), I can’t help but hear a Forsyth-adapted-Yoda saying, “With great conflict comes great resolution.”
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