Fighting Entropy

This introduction explains how organizational shifts, misperceptions, and evolving customer service philosophies shaped the environment in which the events of this book occurred.

During the post–Cold War era, drastic shifts occurred within naval facility organizations in San Diego, California. When I was a student employee at NAVFAC Southwest, one of our contract managers required a construction contractor to tear out a concrete wash pad because the contractor had not provided sufficient notice for the government to inspect the bonding connections between the rebar elements. At the time, I did not understand the concern. Years later, after graduating with my BSEE and progressing in my career, I became aware of the dangers of step and touch potential—the very hazards that proper rebar bonding is meant to minimize.

Over the coming years, organizational priorities shifted. A growing emphasis on providing “quality customer service” to contractors began to overshadow the traditional focus on contract compliance. If one was not clear minded, one might not have grasped the inconsistency between nationwide customer service reforms in regulatory agencies and the fundamentally different nature of the work performed by naval facility commands.

The misconstrue of the customer service aspect 

The customer service movement emerged during a decade marked by the adoption of the IRS Bill of Rights and various policies intended to preserve the dignity of individuals seeking public aid benefits, including unemployment compensation. These initiatives responded to widespread complaints of rude treatment and dismissive behavior by agency personnel. Stories circulated of individuals walking into public offices after losing their jobs, only to be told—based on a three second assessment—that they were “capable of work,” effectively blocking access to benefits.

Such behavior was abhorrent. Duly enacted laws and regulations were being dismissed by employees who had no authority to override the processes established by elected representatives. No one elected those agency employees to make such determinations.

I experienced a similar moment in the 2010s when I lost my job and walked into an unemployment office. An employee looked at me and said, “You should be able to work.” I agreed—I was looking for work—but I still needed to feed my family. His comment was beside the point. He was not empowered to bypass the process that determines eligibility for benefits. After a moment, he reassured me that I would receive my benefits, but my immediate thought was: Who does this guy think he is? Adjudication depends on process, not opinion. There was no point in verbalizing those thoughts.

This experience clarified the distinction between regulatory agencies and naval facility commands. Most naval facility projects involve construction contractors, but projects must progress through planning stages long before becoming actual construction efforts—and many never reach that point. Most of my work as a GS 850 Electrical Engineer never made it past preliminary planning.

Construction contractors face the same precarious business realities as any American business. They need customers, and for contractors, customers mean projects. If a contractor miscalculates a bid, the consequences can be severe. Some contractors on government projects have gone bankrupt, though the root causes lie beyond my limited understanding of construction. Many projects are intricate and demanding.

Against this backdrop, it was confusing when I was told as a GS 850 11 Electrical Engineer that we needed to provide better customer service to construction contractors. I was only a couple of years removed from my internship, had sparse workload, and rarely interacted with contractor personnel. It left me wondering whether managers had misconstrued the nature of naval facility commands.

Did some personnel believe the Navy’s role toward contractors was regulatory, similar to EPA or OSHA oversight of corporations? Such a misunderstanding could lead to imposing additional requirements beyond what the signed contract called for. Conversely, those opposed to regulation might take the opposite approach—leaving contractors to build however they wished, without regard to contract compliance. That would be contrary to the nature of project development. One does not adapt operations to whatever a contractor builds. The process works in reverse: determine user needs, then design and build accordingly.

The distinction is fundamental. Unlike agencies that engage with the public through regulation, benefits administration, or law enforcement, naval facility commands engage with American businesses through legally binding contracts. The misconstrue of customer service arose from perceiving contractors—the entities receiving payment—as the customers, rather than the Navy, which was procuring goods and services.

During this shift, there was talk of streamlining specifications. A few contractors were selected as a pool for future projects, and NAVFAC specifications were significantly reduced in bulk and content. I was leery of streamlining. Specifications exist to prevent unforeseen hazards, and removing them can create gaps that lead to safety or compliance failures—such as the wash pad rebar bonding issue.

Ultimately, these policy decisions were made at higher levels of the organization and propagated down the chain of command. They are not the focus of this book.

Intro continued next column …

But what this book is about

This book focuses on amusing and troubling stories that directly affected the projects and tasks I worked on. Although some stories have roots in customer service issues, many involve perceptions that obscured the reality of various situations. The book does not explore abstract policy leanings except where they directly influenced my work.

Entering government service

I entered government service in 1991 as a college student studying electrical engineering in the Navy’s Cooperative Education Program. The federal government sought to recruit and retain employees in critical need areas. The program provided engineering experience and tuition assistance, with the opportunity to convert to permanent employment upon graduation.

This hiring effort placed me in an office overseeing the administrative side of construction contracting. To laypersons, “administrative” may sound clerical, but in federal acquisition terms, contract administration is the execution phase of projects—ensuring the Navy receives what the contract requires. It does not involve performing construction work or joining the contractor’s organization.

My career began as an inexperienced but eager college student employee. Then BRAC—the Congressional Act known as Base Realignment and Closure—arrived. I initially attributed the collapse of career growth for myself and others to BRAC. Much of my career thereafter was built on insights from post graduate work in power systems—valuable, but not comprehensive enough to complete large projects. It did, however, lead to work that prevented small problems from becoming large ones.

The book’s chapters

Most chapters address episodes from my memoirs and technical insights. Chapter 1, A Tangled Story, sets the stage by providing the contextual framework needed to understand the early goings on in my career. It sets the table upon which the rest of the book is served.

Where the title came from

During my time as a cooperative education employee, a Lieutenant Commander recently graduated from the Naval Academy rotated in as head of the office. He often shared perspective and workplace wisdom, including books such as The One Minute Manager and The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.

The One Minute Manager describes issues as “monkeys on your back,” advising employees to carry only the monkeys that belong to them—not those belonging to others. It also teaches praising in public and admonishing in private.

Decades later, I recalled attending summer school at a local junior high school where posters warned of the dangers of drug addiction. The phrase “monkey on your back” was used to describe heroin addiction. It took me decades to realize why, long after I had abandoned the phrase, people may have drawn the wrong conclusions when I used it.

Other bits of wisdom included “people are penny wise but dollar foolish,” meaning people often focus on small matters while losing sight of the bigger picture. Another was “never mistake action for progress,” a lesson that repeatedly surfaced in project work. The final one—and the one I struggled with most as an engineering student—was “perception is reality.” I stayed grounded in actual reality, but one has to wonder how many episodes in this book stem from people being caught up in perception.

These early lessons—about perception, responsibility, and organizational drift—form the foundation of the entropy themes explored throughout this book.