Summary and Key Points: The USS Carney (DDG-64) recently concluded a significant deployment to the Eastern Mediterranean and Red Sea, conducting 51 engagements against Houthi missiles and drones to protect shipping and regional stability.

-During a port visit to Newport, the ship's leadership team delivered briefings at the Naval War College, emphasizing the importance of setting the narrative about their mission and maintaining a positive, innovative onboard culture.

-The Carney's successful deployment highlights the strategic value of effective storytelling and cultural stewardship in naval operations, contributing to the U.S. Navy's reputation for competence and reliability.

From Combat to Culture: Lessons from USS Carney's Recent Deployment

Destroyer USS Carney paid a port visit to Newport last week and the command leadership team—the commanding officer, executive officer, combat systems officer, operations officer, and command master chief—dropped by the Naval War College to deliver a classified and an unclassified briefing on the ship’s epic, recently concluded deployment to the Eastern Mediterranean and Red Sea. During the cruise the tin can conducted 51 engagements against Houthi antiship missiles and drones, helping deflect attacks on Israel and on shipping in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden.

It’s hard to portray the multinational mission in the Red Sea and western Indian Ocean as a strategic let alone political success thus far. “Ensuring freedom of navigation for all countries” constitutes the mission’s prime goal according to Pentagon magnates. Yet Houthi rocketeers persist in sniping at mercantile and naval shipping, scoring some noteworthy hits; insurance rates for merchantmen remain sky-high; and traffic through these waters is far off the norm. Only when shipping firms regain the confidence to resume sending vessels through the Red Sea at normal rates will the mission qualify as a success. That means either mounting leakproof defenses against air and missile attack—a doubtful prospect—or forcibly disarming the Houthis.

Confidence among shippers and insurers represents the true gauge of success.

Strategy may have been inconclusive thus far, but the tacticians have done their job with panache. No ships of war have been struck despite all the Houthis’ trying, and despite some notable disinformation efforts. Two themes really stood out in the unclassified briefing from the Carney crew, and they had little to do with sensor or weapons performance or tactics, techniques, and procedures. One, to all appearances the leadership team groks the political uses of sea power. And two, the team has gone out of its way to instill an upbeat, innovative culture among the tin can’s crew.

Both themes relate to the all-important human factor in marine operations and warfare.

With regard to the politics of seafaring, the crew’s efforts to set “the narrative” about the deployment—rather than having it set by others—featured conspicuously in the briefing. In fact, it was the first topic raised in the prepared presentation. Imagery, chiefly photos documenting the cruise, helped underwrite the narrative. After all, a picture’s worth a thousand words—especially if accompanied by a few aptly chosen words putting the picture in context. The narrative surrounding Carney’s cruise was that of sailors excelling in their profession under combat stresses not endured since World War II.

Once a narrative has taken hold, it’s hard to uproot. Better to tell your own story well than leave the storytelling to others.

As a bonus, history is kind to those who write it. Sea-power theorist Geoffrey Till designates reputation as a key parameter for appraising a navy’s fitness for its duties. By burnishing their ship’s reputation, Carney leaders help polish the U.S. Navy surface fleet’s reputation for competence, tarnished the past few years by collisions at sea stemming from failures of basic seamanship; major combatants burning at their moorings owing to faulty firefighting matériel and training; and corruption scandals that betray cultural rot within the service. No one fears an incompetent armed force. No one wants to align with an unreliable partner for mutual gain.

One hopes more stories like Carney’s come along, helping refurbish the U.S. Navy’s good name. Many individual narratives of success add up to the image of a fighting force on a roll.

This is about more than an institution’s effort to restore its status. How America fares in world politics depends in large part on its navy’s reputation. Strategist Edward Luttwak observes that seafaring states derive political benefit from fleets that conduct themselves impressively in peacetime. A fleet that projects an image of vigor and prowess in peacetime maneuvers and exercises convinces influential audiences—antagonists, allies, partners, friends—that it would be the likely victor should war erupt. A reputation for excellence casts a “shadow” across councils in hostile capitals, bolstering deterrence or coercion of red teams while giving heart to friendly powers.

A peacetime navy prospers when it convinces others there’s no better friend, no worse enemy.

With regard to the culture on board Carney, the leadership team didn’t invoke the greats of philosophy or strategy, but their briefing paralleled big ideas from the canon. The philosopher Aristotle counseled the leaders of city-states to design laws and policies to improve the “regime” within society. By regime he meant more than civics-class stuff like governing arrangements—how a law is made, etc. He meant the way of life that prevailed within the city—its culture. Rulers, in other words, should invigorate collective virtue within the populace.

A ship’s crew is a diminutive society with its own regime. It behooves the officer and enlisted leadership to abide by Aristotelian wisdom, constantly monitoring and nourishing the way of life that prevails within the steel walls. In fact, you could, and I would, make the case that cultural stewardship represents the foremost task of leadership in martial institutions like warships. Excellence in seamanship, engineering, and weaponeering lies downstream from a healthy culture.

From a toxic culture, not so much.

The Carney team reported trying to instill an air of normalcy on board the destroyer amid combat conditions that were anything but normal. To do otherwise might have permitted an atmosphere of neverending crisis to permeate the society. Normalcy meant preserving as much of daily routine as possible. Keeping the crew informed via the ship’s PA system, making sure each watch team was proficient enough to handle combat operations, and serving meals as close to on schedule as possible helped keep the crew moored in regular navy life despite the atypical battle rhythm.

Fun—movie night, the occasional beer on the pier or flight deck, water-gun fights—was another part of cultural maintenance. Merriment is an underrated part of leadership. Not only does an cheerful culture sustain morale, it encourages creativity. In his masterwork The Ordeal of Change, longshoreman philosopher Eric Hoffer wrote that eras ruled by orthodoxy tend to stagnate. Why? Because orthodoxy punishes those who dare to color outside the lines. By contrast, creative ages are mirthful, even zany ages.

Even in navies.

Hoffer lists ancient Athens, early Islam, and Renaissance Europe as freethinking epochs. The ambient culture of the time let any crank try out an idea, refine it if it showed promise, discard it if it didn’t, and move on to the next wacky hypothesis. Some minority of those ideas would pan out, advancing the cause of civilization. It’s not easy to replicate a madcap culture on board a navy ship governed by a regimen of laws, regulations, and traditions. The results amply repay the leadership’s investment of effort and ingenuity.

If you want to outcompete the Chinas and Russias of the world, tell your own story well and afford the culture proper care and feeding.

About the Author: Dr. James Holmes 

James Holmes is J. C. Wylie Chair of Maritime Strategy at the Naval War College and a Nonresident Fellow at the University of Georgia School of Public and International Affairs. The views voiced here are his alone.

Image Credit: Creative Commons.