I’ve given the concept of culture some thought and what I’ve discovered is that I am not a team player. As much as I admire groups for their work and desire to improve their surroundings I resist joining in the effort one hundred percent because there seems to be a hidden cost involved. The hidden cost is the loss of complete freedom to go, stay, disengage. My friend Naomi said it yesterday in a series of texts. She said, “George can do whatever he pleases.”
There is a reward system in groups. I’m thinking specifically about military organization here. As much as I loved my military career one little gnawing aspect popped out at me late. Those who get rewarded with promotion, who advance up the ladder to higher rank and authority are those who have formed their thinking into the mold of the organization. The person who represents best the mind-set of the military will get promoted into the stream of consciousness to help maintain that atmosphere. People like me will never be rewarded for thinking outside the box. Correction: People like me will never be rewarded for acting outside the box. Conforming has its pluses and minuses. This link will inform more than I can relate here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conformity
After I left the military and was living on my pension and enjoying my civilian existence I began to think about how far up the ladder I’d risen. (There is no climbing to be sure. What happens is that those who advance are pushed; no effort involved, just no thinking.) I mulled it over, compared my career to others I ran into during the years after I retired. Many of my old shipmates were promoted into the line officer ranks and retired at pay grades far above mine. Many of them were unable to have a conversation with me when we met later in life. Only if I were willing to limit my utterances to our old job descriptions could we visit comfortably. None of them could converse about the social justice issues that plagued our society. In fact I began to notice that all of my old shipmates were all old white guys. We’d ‘arrived’ in a manner of speaking. Nearly all of those men I am describing had let their endearing personality traits be erased. There was nothing left for them to cultivate because their imagination was gone. Living life as a career military officer is easy peasy. All it involves is following the official plan-of-the-day.
I’d normally insert a long list of examples of how I did not follow the official plan-of-the-day. It would be a confession to unlawful, rule-breaking, directive resisting, anarchistic behavior. What I did not do was undermine the mission of the U.S. Navy. Not in the larger sense anyway. Many of my stories told in this blog do tell of the many times I cut corners, rerouted efforts, and generally did whatever I pleased. What the salient feature of those who are military careerists and who are promoted to the higher ranks is a mind set that is concrete in its imagination. I picture a person with a cinder block for a head. Cinder blocks need love too. It takes all kinds. I’m not that kind. For me, realizing that I am more of an Einstein than a Spock is gratifying.
Peace out.
G. M. Goodwin
23 September 2017
Playing Fair and Being Kind 
In the last couple of paragraphs of the preface to Saul Alinsky’s book “Rules for Radicals” he clearly describes the citizens who allow the loss of their identity to inure them to any interest in their fate. Their fate, of course, is determined by the craftiness of their leaders. I saw that in spades with longtime military members. It happened to me in the early 70’s. What saved me was a chance encounter with an independent book store owner. That is when I became, or rather, polished my skills of being radical.