Leadership Lessons from the New York Fire Department

First In, Last Out: Leadership Lessons from the New York Fire Department
by John Salka

Would the people who work for you follow you into a burning building?

What does it take to lead people into a burning building? How do the leaders of the New York City Fire Department develop so much loyalty, trust, and grace under pressure that their subordinates will risk their very lives for them?

As a high-ranking officer of the FDNY, John Salka is an expert at both practicing and teaching high-stakes leadership. In First In, Last Out, he explains the department's unique strategies and how they can be adopted by leaders in any field - as he has taught them to organizations around the country. In a tough-talking, no-nonsense style, Salka uses real-world stories to convey leadership imperatives such as: first in, last out - your people need to see you taking the biggest risk, as the first one to

• enter the danger zone and the last to leave
• manage change - the fire you fought yesterday is not the one you'll be fighting tomorrow
• communicate aggressively - a working radio is worth more than 20,000 gallons of water
• create an execution culture - focus your people on the flames, not the smoke
• commit to reality - never allow the way you would like things to be to color how things are
• develop your people - let them feel a little heat today or they'll get burned tomorrow

Illustrated by harrowing real-life situations, the principles in First In, Last Out will help managers become more confident, coherent, and commanding.

"What makes them do it?" is a question I have been asked hundreds of times in the course of my travels through the United States and other parts of the world. It is a natural question. Why do people run into burning buildings that they know just might be the most dangerous locations in the world? It is not by accident that the universally accepted metaphor for hell is an inferno, and no one understands this concept better than our firefighters. Fire is a terrible confrontation, and it is always imminent - it can easily grow to twice its size with every minute an object is aflame. Yet, the firefighters go in. They have a job to do. They are trained and motivated, certainly, but most of all they are led. Who leads them and how do the leaders come to be within the organizational structure of fire departments?

Let me tell you my own story.

There were three goals in my mind that day so many years ago when I first took the oath of office as a New York City fireman (before the term firefighter came into common usage). No one had given me that job. I had studied for the intelligence examination, and I had exercised regularly enough to pass the physical test and then some more so I would distinguish myself. But from the moment I was sworn in to the ranks of New York's bravest, I began to feel an indebtedness that I continue to carry today, for the department placed me among the smartest, most focused, most inspiring leaders that exist in any organization. These men (now men and women) gave me a sense of myself - my capabilities and limitations - that enabled me to succeed at just about anything I have since set my mind to do.

In the beginning of my fire service career I did not think of leadership at all. I did not think about being an officer or a leader. I had no lofty desires. I just took stock in the fact that I was a New York City fireman. I knew that I had the best position in the world, and I was just happy beyond words to be in "the job."

The novice firefighter is called the probie, and when I think back to my days as a probationary fireman, and then through my early years of firefighting, every experience I had and every memory I retain seems to have reinforced the three goals I held as I raised up my hand to be sworn in.

First of all, I wanted to do a good job. I realized I was part of an organization, part of a larger group of firefighters, in which life and death depended on what I did. I knew that mere seconds could often determine if a life was saved or lost - every firefighter internalizes that fact from his first day of training. There is no time to second-guess a decision when fighting a fire. In the emergency services, a course of action has to be right from the moment it is determined, and that takes significant education, training, experience, and a willingness to be certain of and accountable for your decisions. Not many organizations have such an overarching mortal importance in their missions, but that is why the training of leaders in the fire service is so fundamental in its day-to-day operations and so crucial in its consequence. No organization will succeed if it doesn't provide potential leaders with the strong guidelines and mentoring to figure out for him- or herself how to progress positively in a career. In an organization like a fire department, a lack of leadership policy will kill people. I learned all this in the first few days of wearing the uniform, and the structure of the department's management made me feel secure in the nation's most dangerous occupation. I knew my supervisors (the lieutenants, captains, and chief) would do everything possible to keep me focused on my mission and to keep me safe. It was obvious from the beginning that they cared about me, and I wanted to care about them as well. I knew I could do a good job.

My second goal was to be accepted by my peers. It is never easy to be inserted into an established organization, even if you are doing something you have wanted to do for much of your life. You are the new guy on the street, and you want to make friends. But you also want to represent yourself as competent and as an independent thinker. In an organization such as the fire department, though, you have to most of all have a willing mind to be a part of the group. To be of an independent mind while also existing in a group dynamic is a balance that is surprisingly easy to attain in the firehouse, mostly because the organization's shared values - saving lives and property - is so clear. The most fundamental mission for the firefighter is to protect life, a goal that is easily understood when you are taken into a group that has been operating successfully long before you arrived.

True, you do have to prove yourself in the firehouse, and sometimes the firefighters do not make it easy for you. The probationary firefighter is the one who is inevitably asked to go to the store, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, clean the tools, and wash the rig. If he or she dives enthusiastically into the work, the probationary period is painless and relief will come in the support the young firefighter will get from all the senior whips - those who come from "the days of leather hose and wooden fire hydrants." This is the first indication of the leadership mentality that is built into the organization of the fire service. The young, in the firehouse culture, see the value of making themselves willing to learn, as the sage firefighters pass on their secrets in return.

I hated the housecleaning - the ignominy of washing pots and pans when I had trained to save lives. And, I hated being called the probie by everyone. The captain imagined dirt in every corner and on the surface of every tool and ordered me to mop it or polish it. I resented it. Still, I tried to put gusto into every small and insignificant act, and then finally that first fire came. Suddenly, I was on my hands and knees with all the old salts, in the midst of a whirlwind of blinding smoke and searing heat. The captain brought me up to the nozzle, and the senior men backed me up as we went through several rooms of fire in a multiple dwelling. But most important, I felt hands on my back, urging me gently forward, and people all around me finally began calling me Dennis. There is no greater thrill than to be at your first real fire and to be called by your rightful name. The lesson I brought out of the smoking ruin that day is one that I have applied every day since: You can always tell a true leader by the way he treats and teaches the man in the lowest level: the probie.

The third thought in my mind that swearing-in day was simple: I wanted to be the man my mother loved. She spent a lifetime making me ready for school, supporting me during the bad times as well as the good, and advising me with the right information at the right time on countless occasions. Mostly she would say, "You better shape up, kid," which was her way of saying that I was not meeting her expectations - and her expectations were never unreasonable. Trying to be the man my mother loved also means that I wanted to be, then and now, a person who is open and fair to all and who wants to accept every responsibility that comes to the door.

After a lifetime of retrospection, I can now see how vital to my future those early thoughts were. I did not know then, in formulating a list of silent goals, that I was actively involving myself in the leadership program of the New York Fire Department, or that leadership was fundamental to every decision, either in the firehouse or in the middle of a fire. It came with the territory - a territory that had been nurturing courageous men and successful leaders since the fire department was first organized as a paid force in 1865.

Leadership! To want to do a good job was to intuit the life and death nature of firefighting. A fundamental rule in management is that the leader must see clearly the goal of the organization and how to direct people in attaining that goal. The fire department's goal of preserving life and property is constant and shared by everyone from the commissioner to the probie. We don't have to tell people that they can't lead without a shared goal; the instruction is in their very lifestyle.

Leadership! To be accepted by my peers implied that I understood the history and culture of those with whom I rode the back end of a fire pumper. It is difficult to lead people without understanding their past and how they came to be where they are. The fire department has a long list of heroic individuals who have been lost in the line of duty, and with every action in the job, and particularly in the fires, that history is remembered and honored. That historical memory brings with it the motivation to excel, and it supports a rationale that brings men and women to place themselves in mortal danger in the course of their work - and it inspires them to follow their leader.

Leadership! To be the man my mother loved is to apply the integrity I associate with my mother's view of the world to the day-to-day work of the firefighter. Integrity is one of the most important lessons of leadership, and it must be clearly seen in the leader's actions. The actions must be transparent and presented in an environment of intelligence and fairness, and they must be resolute and seen as a commitment. This is a fundamental rule in good leadership, for no one is going to effectively follow a leader he doesn't trust; and in the fire department, all leadership implies trust. This is why the title of this book suggests a leadership style that has worked so effectively in life and death situations - the same kind of leadership profile that can be effective in your own organization. To be the first in and last out will earn the trust of all around you and will even inspire some in your organization to greatness. Most important, being first in and last out will define your integrity.

To me there are just two schools of management. There is the knock-'em over the head school, illustrated by the CEO who might say, "All right, this year we are going to send every line manager to Harvard for sensitivity training...." It doesn't take much to see that this "this could work" approach to problem solving is a risky style of management, and one that can be costly. Then there is the more subtle management method, the one in which problem solving is found in the history, culture, values, and experience of the organization, in which the problem-solvers are nurtured in the organization's every day and every way school of leadership. In this managerial structure, leaders are developed in much the same way we develop our character - it is not something to be learned in a course but developed over a lifetime of doing things in a certain way, the "first in, last out" way.

In the New York Fire Department, a leader is molded by the structure of the job, and John Salka has brought that idea to life within the pages of this important book for all managers. I first met John seven years ago through the pages of Firehouse magazine. He was a young captain writing on the subject of management during an emergency scene. I saw him then as an insightful up-and-coming thinker in the fire service. And then, during those tragic and challenging days of Ground Zero, I saw John managing several complicated operations. It was dangerous work. There were many people depending on him. I watched John carefully and worked under his supervision. He was inspiring.

I know that John's influence and reputation at the scene of an emergency will speak to managers in every walk of life who will read this book. You don't have to be operating within a mission where lives are at stake to take value from these pages. You simply have to care about how you manage and want to do better. There are many valuable leadership lessons to be taken away from John Salka's experience and wisdom, but none as great as the one that brings you to be the first one in and the last one out.

Dennis Smith
New York City
September 2003

Copyright © 2004 John Salka. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or any parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.

About the Author

John Salka rose through the ranks of the New York City Fire Department from firefighter to lieutenant, captain, and now battalion chief (the second highest command), a position in which he manages more than 150 men. He also teaches leadership to other fire departments across the country and to outside organizations like the U.S. Marine Corps.