Published Airpower Journal - Winter 1993
"LIFE'S A b____, and then you die." Well, that just about sums it up, doesn’t it? It’s not easy being in the Air Force these days. It’s not just the fact that we have fewer people and not as many dollars to work with. We’ve faced that issue before. No, the difficulty is that everything’s changing, and everything’s just so . . . indefinite. Perhaps the AFSC you’ve devoted your whole career to went away. Or your wing was deactivated, and you volunteered (and were turned down) for X number of jobs on the bulletin board. Or worse, the uncertainty of your future in the Air Force due to the threat of an impending ______ (RIF, passover, SERB--you fill in the blank) makes you wonder about the efficacy of gambling away another year with the Air Force . . . or a separation bonus . . . or another assignment . . . ad infinitum. If you happen to complain too much, some optimist quotes you a sugary platitude like, "If life hands you lemons, make lemonade"--as if you didn’t have a right to be angry and resentful.
Well, perhaps you do have reasons for being angry and resentful. But you also have a choice--although it’s not necessarily an easy one to make. I’ve often heard motivational speakers use the pearl-making capability of the oyster as an example to inspire higher performance. An oyster responds to a grain of sand intruding into its closed ecosystem by secreting a solution called mother-of-pearl, which covers the irritant and eventually makes a pearl. It’s nice to think that what was once an irritant can become a thing of beauty and lasting value. The trouble is that the recipient of that oh-so-wondrous pearl isn’t the same creature that had to suffer with the irritant for who knows how long! I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a comment on what the oyster gets out of the pearl-making bargain.
Think about it. If the sand is an irritant, isn’t the pearl simply a bigger annoyance? After all, the oyster keeps secreting the mother-of-pearl, and the pearl just gets bigger and bigger. Admittedly, the oyster’s central nervous system isn’t particularly sophisticated, but it would seem we could associate some pain with wrenching the oyster apart to extract the pearl. And what happens to the oyster after the pearl is harvested? Well, I’m not a marine biologist, a philosopher, or someone who makes a living off oysters, so I don’t have those answers (nor do I want them). But I do know that the oyster doesn’t have a choice about whether to make a pearl. Fate gives it an irritant, it makes a pearl, and we humans reap the benefits--literally.
As with the oyster, irritants force themselves into our professional and personal lives every day. Some of these intrusions aren’t merely irritants but full-scale catastrophes which, through no fault of our own, cause us and others great personal suffering. Unlike the oyster, WE have a choice. We don’t have to accept the pearl-making process. We can refuse or resist or complain it away. Or we can give in and make a pearl, even if we aren’t the ones who’ll reap the value. The metaphorical pearl-making process is long and uncomfortable. Often the pearls (those things of great value to our organizations, families, or society as a whole) will be harvested at great personal cost and sacrifice. How many of us are willing to produce pearls under those conditions? How many of us are willing to risk personal pain and loss for a better way and a better Air Force? Not many of us. But perhaps we should take that risk. Eventually, the oyster will die anyway. The pearl and its value will remain for years.
I think I’d rather leave even one pearl behind. It’s better than an empty shell.
GDF
Disclaimer
The conclusions and opinions expressed in this document are those of the author cultivated in the freedom of expression, academic environment of Air University. They do not reflect the official position of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, the United States Air Force or the Air University.
[ Back Issues | Home Page | Feedback? Email the Editor ]