Ranking It In? Should the Military Retain Their Rank Titles on Retirement?

 

A few years ago now, there was a letter published in the papers by someone who reported that they recently visited many country pubs shortly after opening time. On arrival, they enquired ‘is the Major here yet’, to which the response was almost always ‘not yet, but he’ll be in shortly’.

This most British of titles is something that cuts to the heart of many peoples identity. For a not insignificant number of those who have served, there is a strong desire to retain titles earned, often in desperate circumstances, and be identified for life by their service. Many pubs had their own Major.

Image by Ministry of Defence; © Crown copyright

This is perhaps more visible in the generation that grew up after WW1 and WW2, where suddenly the rapid expansion of the military led to a great number of people gaining commissions during wartime. For many, the holding of rank, often surprisingly senior rank at a young age (e.g. a mid 20 something Lt Colonel) became one of the defining characteristics of their life.

Today, society has far fewer veterans in it – there are maybe one million or so individuals in the UK who can be classed as a veteran (namely spending 24hrs in uniform). The numbers of those in active service and holding a commission is tiny compared to previous years (for example there are roughly 5,000 Royal Navy officers in the service), and people often do not serve for as long, or cut their ties far earlier in their career.

For some leaving the service means breaking all ties, stepping back and abandoning the trappings of military rank, status and privilege and resuming normal civilian life. For others, stepping away from uniform means shedding the clothing, but not the persona. They remain in the mindset of the rank held until the day they die.

In many cases this behaviour is perhaps a bit odd to others. Hardly any other walk of life seems so obsessed with titles, nor so eager to retain them after departing. You don’t hear of many former Firefighters referring to themselves as Deputy Group Commander Jones (retired) for example. The military seem alone in clinging to job titles, which are perhaps separate from professional qualifications like ‘Doctor’.

Some argue that this is because the act of holding a Commission is a lifelong gift from the Sovereign. That to hold it means you should not relinquish it, or its title, and that it is appropriate to be used at all times. Others claim that it is because of obscure ‘retired lists’ and that when stepping back, you retain the rank in case you are theoretically called up for some war. Notwithstanding the likelihood of MOD easily being able to find, mobilise and deploy the retired lists of officers, this does seem a rather odd reason to cling to a title.

While much of this behaviour is relatively harmless, it can at times cross the line in to a point where those using ranks can perhaps be seen to speak with a credibility earned from the use of their rank title, not necessarily their experience or relevance.

For example, in working with the defence industry, Humphrey has encountered cases of former, and retired senior officers (2* level) using their rank title on their business cards (often without using the retired prefix) This may sound a minor thing, but having witnessed the reaction among serving personnel when they heard a former officer, guilty of this, was visiting, it was akin to panic.

“We must get nice biscuits for the Admiral”, followed by a meeting where the individual was addressed as ‘Sir’ by all the military in the room, and held court in a manner of one used to being treated as a demi-god. There was a sharp intake of breath when the author, tired of this obsequiousness, called the individual by his first name intentionally to make the point that while he had served, he was no longer an Admiral on the active list.

This may sound a bit silly, but there is a more serious undertone. Had the individual wanted to do so, they could probably have used their position, as a rep of a major defence company, to seek access, lobbying or information that would be pushing the bounds of appropriateness, knowing that people would do it as ‘he was an Admiral’. Bluntly, Humphrey has heard whispers and rumours of retired seniors now in the pay of industry, ringing up sites, using their rank and finding things out, or getting things done, in a way that should not have been done.

All of this brings us to the nub of this debate – should former or retired military officers use their ranks after they leave the service? There is perhaps a strong argument that maybe ranks should not be used once people move on in any form of professional context.

This argument could be made on two grounds – firstly, it prevents retired military officers using their connections, titles and business cards to force access into a system that they no longer work for. It levels the playing field in a way, and makes clear that former service does not guarantee future privilege.

Secondly, it perhaps reduces the danger of people cashing in on service in order to make media points in a way that garners air time and attention without necessarily being credible or relevant.

There has been a trend in recent years to see former officers dine out on their military experiences, and turn it into a profitable way of making money by doing broadcast media. While legal, it feels instinctively wrong to the author. This is because often when turning up on tv as Admiral X or Colonel Y, these individuals give the impression of being serving officers.

For all the use of ‘retired’ or ‘former commander of’, when you insist on having your rank appended to your title in a broadcast interview or letter, the public will almost certainly assume that you are, in some way, linked to the current military. You may have retired 20 years ago and not seen a classified paper in decades, but the title alone means you speak with credibility.

The challenge is that while this is fine if you know your limits of what you can talk on, when you use your position to make nakedly political attacks, or to turn something into a business, you can potentially confuse the public about what the military think about a situation.

For example, if you were a serving officer, bound by the regulations to not speak out on certain issues, took the lines to take and defended the appropriate position of the day, then shortly after leaving, suddenly went very much off message, and began attacking and criticising the government of the day while using your military title, the risk has to be that the public lose confidence in what they are being told.

This is not about asking people to lie, rather it is about saying that in a world where the serving military cannot easily give quotes to the press, or may be constrained in their views, precisely to avoid being dragged into politics, to see other people using titles from a former life, potentially tars all of them with the same brush.

The risk is that the public understanding of defence becomes linked to images of middle aged men with funny job titles and  a certain florid complexion getting angry about things they don’t understand, and wondering what on earth the MOD is playing at. It runs the risk of inadvertently politicising the military by dragging them in when it is not entirely clear to the audience that your interviewee no longer has credible access or relevance.

There is a fundamental question about the act of letting go, and moving on with life. The wearing of uniform is a powerful part of ones life and can shape behaviours and actions for decades afterwards. Many people do find it hard to let go, used to holding a certain status in life and then seeing it snatched from them, they cling to their titles in a way that is both sad, but understandable.

Where this becomes uncomfortable is when you see people wearing their rank in civvy street – be it working as a civil servant and expecting people to brace up because you were formerly a full colonel, or by those in uniform assuming that those who have left don’t lose their position in the system. The author was once verbally bollocked by a serving individual for ‘failing to brace up’ as the then First Sea Lord walked past him while he was deep in conversation with someone. He pointed out that he was actually a civilian, to which the response was ‘yes well you’re ex-military so you should know better’. Apparently his retort of ‘well I’m an ex-boy scout, but you don’t see me going dib dib dib, dob, dob, dob all the time’ wasn’t considered helpful.

Maybe the solution is to instead fundamentally change how the act of commissioning is viewed, and replace it. Rather than having a system of active/retired and ambiguity about what is or is not a retired list role, and whether a 4* remains on the active list debate, simply accept that when people leave, their military rank ceases to have any meaning or valid role.

Should people wish to use it in a personal capacity, then that is their personal decision, but equally it should be made clear that it cannot be used in any way as a title in a work context-  if you appear on the media your biography should be as ‘Joe Bloggs’ and the say stuff like ‘Joe spent 30 years in the army, initially in the Royal Army Veterinary Corps, which was later subsumed into the RIFLES’ , rather than using the rank as a way of assuming an expert status.

Likewise, perhaps the time has come to end the practise of the use of rank titles in a business sense, and instead appointing people as they are the right person for the job, not because their last job title was quite impressive and may open doors in the right part of Whitehall.

There is nothing wrong with being proud of service, or of being proud to have held a rank. Likewise, some people have become known for their military rank as much as their first name – it’s a genuine question as to whether ‘Captain Tom’ would have captured half as much attention in 2020 if he’d been plain old Tom (Capt Retd).

Also as some media have noted, there is a sense that by using the rank title, the public can assess the value and credibility of the contributor – by reading a military title, they can assess that this person may have value to add to a debate. But, equally, does using a rank title mean that you actually know anything about the subject at hand?

There isn’t a right or wrong answer to this debate, but its fascinating the impact that it has on peoples opinions. When Humphrey posted a quick tweet about this on the morning of writing this article, he expected it may get some limited attention -by the time this article was drafted 10 hour later, it had racked up over 129,000 twitter impressions – proof that people really do care about this subject.

It is a curious thing – a military rank is arguably not a professional qualification in the manner of being a Doctor or academic. It is a job title, that could just as easily be a civil service style ‘Grade 6, Executive Officer or Admin Assistant’ title to reflect different roles. There is no particular need to have the ranks called the way that they are – its just evolved that way over time. They could be changed tomorrow and not change the ability of the people in those positions to do their job.

But, there is clearly something about the emotional attachment to the use of rank after leaving that still resonates very strongly with people, and which generates strong emotions. Many people are rightly proud of their service, and feel it appropriate to use their title in many different contexts. Others are keen to jettison it as soon as they leave and never look back.

It is particularly curious that the tweet attracted significant criticism owing to the ‘nom-de-plume’ of ‘Sir Humphrey’ with many seeing the suggestion that it was hypocritical to suggest abolishing the use of rank, while still tweeting as ‘Sir Humphrey’.

This is entirely fair criticism, and something that the author didn’t’ even think about when tweeting. The ‘Sir Humphrey’ angle is a very old title dating back many years to when the blog started, and it seemed a delightful way to pay homage to the finest and most accurately depicted BBC characters ever to grace the small screen.

The idea that this clearly affectionate title, used purely as a way of respect and a helpful way (at the start) to retain a measure of anonymity should be seen as use of a title was an angle that wasn’t foreseen.  Perhaps if it reassures readers, this blog is written under the pseudonym ‘SH’ as a long time habit, not because the author wishes to remain anonymous – there are both photos of the author scattered across the blog itself, and ones real identity is easily discoverable online.

Having met with, and enjoyed the company of so many twitter users and blog readers over the years at various events, it is much more about keeping the blog going for what it is known by and for, and to prevent the author being the subject of the story that the ‘SH’ persona is used, than for any reason of anonymity or desire to hide away from scrutiny. With that said, it was interesting to see how strongly people felt on this issue, and that is extremely fair and well justified criticism!

In the longer term it will be fascinating to see whether as the armed forces evolve into a much more meritorcratic and socially representative body, and where the line between Commissioned and Non-Commissioned blurs in terms of skills, training, education and prospects, whether the retention of job titles remains of importance to future leavers.

Will this trend go the way of bowler hats and pinstriped suits, fading into being an almost imperceptible anachronism in Debretts, or will it continue to be something that matters to the Generation Z in 30 years time? Maybe its time to see if the Major has arrived yet and go get a drink to consider this further…