Lead from No: A Systematic Approach to Leadership Negotiation

Lead from No

Lead from No

A Systematic Approach

to Leadership Negotiation

Jim Camp Jr.

manuscript Press

Copyright © 2024 Jim Camp Jr.

All rights reserved.

Lead from No

A Systematic Approach to Leadership Negotiation

ISBN

979-8-88926-171-1 Paperback

979-8-88926-172-8 Hardcover

979-8-88926-170-4 Ebook

To my grandkids,

who understand a no isn’t the end of

an agreement but the start of an opportunity.

Introduction

Reflecting on the events of September 11, 2001, the entire day is permanently ingrained in my memory. The somber feelings of unimaginable tragedy and loss, combined with witnessing our nation’s heroic response, is unforgettable. Like many others, I’m sure, my experiences on this day led to a dramatic turning point in my career.

Back then I had three jobs. I flew for United Airlines, served part-time in the Air National Guard flying the KC-135 air refueler, and worked for my father’s negotiation coaching business.

I knew sustaining all three would become unmanageable and decided to shift priorities. My immediate plans included separating from the military in October of 2001. I wanted to devote more time to my family and my father’s business. On September 9, two days prior to 9/11, I flew the 767 out of Newark, where United Flight 93, the one where passengers fought back and crashed south of Pittsburgh, originated. After returning from my trip on the morning of 9/11, I headed to the 121st Air Refueling Wing in Columbus Ohio for a day of military flight training. I remember enjoying the weather with the top down in the Jeep. I first became aware of an aircraft crashing into the World Trade Center while listening to the radio. A routine day quickly turned into one filled with dread and concern.

Approaching the front gate of my base, I noticed more airmen than usual guarding the entrance. The heavily armed security team informed me the installation recently shifted to a real-world lockdown status. They checked my identification and let me know we were under a nationwide terrorism threat.

Walking into the flying squadron is normally a lot of fun. The camaraderie of the military and first responder community is unique. I miss all the teasing and bantering before flying. On this day, you could have heard a pin drop. All my teammates were staring at the TV in the corner of the room in disbelief. When another aircraft hit the second tower, we instantly knew this was a deliberate attack, and everyone in the room understood we were on the brink of war. Our state of shock turned into a sense of urgency after being directed to prepare for multiple response missions. We didn’t have time to recall additional personnel, and those of us already in the flight room geared up for missions.

Our unit always had two tanker aircraft full of fuel, positioned and prepared to launch in a moment’s notice. Although these aircraft were normally prepared to provide air refueling during a nuclear crisis, that day’s mission, we responded to a threat our country hadn’t experienced. When the details of the attack unfolded to include the strike on the Pentagon, my squadron commander ordered me and my crew to launch one of our alert aircraft. The entire squadron wanted to contribute to the response.

I quickly grabbed a copilot and a boom operator. Without the normal time to brief our mission or even file our flight plan, we hustled to launch and set up an air refueling orbit over the Pentagon. The normal preflight of the KC-135 required an hour. Within only twenty minutes, we pushed up the throttles for takeoff and headed to the east coast. The air traffic controller cleared us to fly any altitude, any airspeed, and gave us a direct route straight to Washington, DC. He also let us know the inbound international flights were diverted from their normal destinations and ordered to land all along the east coast and Canada. We were one of the only aircraft airborne east of the Mississippi River. Across the country, numerous jet fighters were also launching for the purpose of homeland defense. Given the events of the day, those fighter jets were ready to shoot down any rogue aircraft. Air Force One and the president were also on the move, and my crew and I assumed we’d refuel numerous fighters once we arrive.

From miles away we could see the dark smoke billowing up from the Pentagon. Processing the reality of this situation, my crew and I were speechless. Approaching our refueling location, the northeastern air defense sector came up on the radio and asked us to authenticate who we were and to verify we were on an authorized mission. This is a standard procedure during training, let alone in a crisis. Their airspace control callsign is Giant Killer. In the distance we could see the formation of F-16s rapidly approaching our jet. All at once, all three of us realized we had made a terrible mistake. This is the responsibility of the aircraft commander, and I instantly knew I blew it. In our rush to get off the ground, we didn’t grab our communications secrets from the command post at Rickenbacker. Without our classified documents, we had no way of proving we were on an authorized response mission.

I had a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat when Giant Killer asked us to authenticate by broadcasting Charlie Mike. They expected a quick and proper response to their code words. We should have been able to open the classified response table and issue the correct reply. I can’t forget the concerned look on my copilot’s face. Normally, the pilot who is not flying the aircraft operates the radios. In this case, I took over the radios in addition to flying the jet. Giant Killer repeated their authentication request while the F-16s rolled in behind our aircraft. Hearing the increased stress in the controller’s voice when he repeated his request, I remained calm and replied: Giant Killer, this is Sluff 61, and I apologize. We have a problem. I didn’t grab our communications kit before we launched. What can I do to assure you we are who we say we are? A long period of uncomfortable silence followed.

The formation of four F-16s were divided with two on each side of our aircraft. This is a normal position before air refueling; however, this time they were a little closer than usual. They were also listening to Giant Killer and trying to get a closer look at our aircraft. From their point of view, the pilots could determine the base from which our aircraft originated. It seemed like a minute had gone by, and still no response from the controller. During Air Force pilot training, all pilots learn hand signals in case of radio silence or failure. When the F-16 flight lead got close enough, I made eye contact and popped a quick salute. I then used my left hand to show him the signal for refueling. No response. I’m sure they were uncomfortable during the moment, and they also needed our gas.

Still waiting for the controller to respond, I instructed our boom operator already in the back of our airplane to lower and extend the refueling boom. I again came up on voice and calmly said, This is Captain Jim Camp. We launched out of the 121st Air Refueling Wing. We’re unable to authenticate. My mistake. We have plenty of fuel to offload. We’ve completed our air refueling checklist. When would you like to take your gas?

Thankfully, Giant Killer agreed and said, You’re cleared to conduct air refueling.

We were relieved when the fighters started taking our gas. Each aircraft connected one by one. While they were connected to our boom, we were able to have a short private conversation with the pilots. We could hear the stress in their voices. At this point, our crew is still unaware of the unraveling situation with Flight 93. A few hours later when we returned to base and conducted our mission debriefing, we humbly realized we could’ve been ordered to land—or worse.

Everything changed for my family and me after the morning of 9/11. I decided not to leave the military. With the support of my wife Cynthia and family, I volunteered to deploy, including the invasion of Iraq in 2003. While I stayed engaged with the family negotiation business, I took long-term military leave from United Airlines. The military became my primary focus. After resigning from the airline in 2006, I accepted a full-time military position as an instructor pilot. I planned to serve for another five years, retire militarily in 2010, then return to the world of negotiation. The family business continued to grow, and my father assured me I could come back anytime. I didn’t anticipate how leading people would impact my life and career and didn’t imagine serving until March of 2024.

In the military, when you reach tactical proficiency in your primary skill, which for me became instructing others how to fly the tanker, grooming for leadership positions becomes a bigger focus. Although I continued flying, my goal shifted to becoming a commander. To lead a flying squadron, being a good pilot isn’t enough. Fortunately, my mentors encouraged me to take on challenging staff assignments, complete the requisite military education programs, and deploy in staff and leadership roles. Being selected for command is a competitive process, and it didn’t come easy.

In retrospect, I’m thankful the journey to command is difficult. I heard no a few times before having the chance to lead my first squadron. Eventually I became a base commander and a commanding general of five thousand airmen. When I heard the word no, instead of being discouraged, another door would open. No is only a decision and should not be considered a rejection or failure. A no is your opportunity to uncover what’s behind the decision itself. I embraced the feedback from my peers and learned to control my intensity. I worked on my patience and listened to my mentors. Everything paid off.

During my journey to command, I discovered the strong connection between leadership and negotiation. Successful leaders negotiate daily. My military experiences reinforced why the word no is instrumental to our system of negotiation.

Recently transitioning out of the military and having conversations, my son James helped me rethink my contribution in the negotiation world.

In the spring of 2021, my family and I traveled to Boston. After graduating from the University of Chicago and serving six years on active duty in the United States Marine Corps commanding a sniper platoon, our son, James, graduated from MIT with his master of business administration. James was also enrolled in a master’s program at the Harvard Kennedy School. During our visit, he happily showed us his grandfather’s book, Start with No,¹ on the shelf in the Harvard bookstore. He also pointed out how the book was required reading for his negotiation class. Over a celebratory dinner with the family, we discussed leadership and his forthcoming transition into the private equity arena.

Based on James’s experience in our country’s finest academic institutions, and the outstanding leadership training in the Marines, we both agreed systematic negotiation training can help any leader. We also discussed my next steps and what it would look like for me to jump back into Camp Negotiations. During the visit, I shared with James and the family my intention to retire from the military. I planned to rejoin my brother, Todd, in the family business. James laughed and said, This should be fun to watch. Maybe you should write a book someday. We’d frequently discussed my leadership journey, and he helped convince me to share my lessons learned. Over the years in command, James knew I negotiated constantly in all directions.

In 2002, my father and founder of our company, Jim Camp Sr., challenged the negotiation world and published Start with No. The lack of systematic negotiation coaching and training programs inspired my father to develop a system. Since then, our company, Camp Negotiations, has focused on a contrarian definition of negotiation: an agreement, or the effort to reach an agreement between two or more parties, with all parties having the right to veto. The critical component in this definition is the right of all parties to say no. You probably notice, the word compromise is not included in our definition.

If you believe negotiation requires compromise from both sides of the table, you’re consistent with what most believe to be true. Words like win-win, give and take, collective bargaining, and protecting