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GPCAPT Shaun Clarke, Commander Operational Support Group. OH-08-0628-01.
GPCAPT Shaun Clarke.

Apricot Jam and Banana on Toast

GPCAPT Shaun Clarke, Commander Operational Support Group

By now it should be fairly well known around the traps that ordinary people throughout the RNZAF are enjoying unprecedented licence to innovate. I can vouch for the fact that there hasn’t been a time in the past twenty-seven years, if ever, where the senior leadership was consulting this widely with all ranks, and actively seeking new ideas from every nook and cranny in the organisation.

This Air Force is on a ‘DRIVE’. That is ‘D’ for delegation and trust; ‘R’ for risk management rather than risk aversion; ‘I’ for innovation; ‘V’ for values demonstration; and ‘E’ for elimination of waste. The DRIVE is all about thinking globally, but acting locally. It’s about knowing that you – wherever you work – are invited to try doing your stuff in fresh new ways. That you’re trusted to think for yourself about risk and, if the risk seems acceptable, to trial things locally to see if there are better ways. That’s why the RIS (RNZAF Innovation Scheme) exists on the intranet – to give all ranks direct access to the top of the organisation with their great new ideas about how we could do stuff differently. It’s why RAF (Recruit a Friend) exists – to give us each the authority to decide for ourselves what best attracts people to our great little Air Force, and to get on with it and enjoy the rewards.

Innovation and the confidence to give things a go are war-winners. Some would say that, in the Falklands War, if the Argentineans had thought outside the box and laid a couple of thousand feet of temporary runway matting (as the Brits later did), they would have beaten the runway length problem they had at Port Stanley. That would have allowed them to operate fighters from the islands in the defensive counter air and maritime strike roles, with oodles of range and endurance. That, in turn would have forced the British fleet to stand off, and the Brit aircraft would have had to operate at the limit of their range instead. Some say that this would have made the difference. Instead, it was British innovations like rapidly fitting air-to-air refuelling systems to Hercules and surveillance radar to transport helicopters that, amongst other things, gave them the winning edge.

There is a real danger in getting sucked into thinking that the way we learned to do stuff, or the way we’ve been doing it for a long time, is the only way. Routines have their purposes, and there is a great deal of identity, safety and certainty afforded to us by our traditions. But, at the same time, young leaders speaking up with new ideas and carefully trialling new options are what distinguish winning organisations. Otherwise, if we always do what we’ve always done, we’ll always get what we’ve always got.

Innovation is a natural strength and inclination for us anyway, as part of ‘Kiwi ingenuity’ and the ‘number 8 wire’ tradition. In our Air Force we celebrate those who lead us with good, actionable ideas – from whatever rank. We currently have significant challenges including introducing new aircraft, establishing new infrastructure and growing our personnel numbers. But whether on the ground or in the air, the best bits of who we are have always been much more about how we handled new challenges or unexpected situations, than anything to do with normal business.

So here we go. It’s time for locals to look at their own workplaces today and tomorrow, and ask themselves how things could be done better. Innovation is about questioning what we do in a really fresh and open-minded way. Stand still where you work for a moment. Put your hands on your hips, take a breath, look around a bit, and ask yourself the question, ‘What could I do with this that would make it better?’ Then give it a crack and see what happens.

No aspect of our lives need be immune from the ‘fresh’ approach. I was sitting at breakfast the other day noting the staleness of my routine. Same table, same time, same cereals, same faces; always a different conversation but nevertheless routine. So, I thought, ‘what could I do with this that would make it better?’ I reached for the apricot jam and a banana and mashed them together on toast. The kids’ froze, and then delivered a ‘gross’ verdict. But, actually, it was damned good, and I’m still liking the variation. I’d like to tell you that my whole family now follows suit, but that would make the story just too unbelievably perfect. I might keep trying, I think. Tomorrow, marmite and sardines.

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