Most people do not set out to destroy where they work…

Some of us are old enough to remember, it was January 28, 1986. Seventy-three seconds into the STS-51-L mission, it broke apart, and in an instant seven members of the Space Shuttle Challenger were dead. The loss of life was terrible. The root cause deeply disturbing. The making of the accident took more than the flight of 73 seconds, you might say it took over 730,000,000 seconds. The then 28 year old Space Shuttle Program was a model of success. One of its stated guiding principles, Safety First. Yet in the rush, the pressure to complete 24 scheduled launches per year, another unstated guiding principle had a pervasive effect on the organization, its subcontractors, indeed all who came in contact with what was up to this point, a highly successful organization.

I worked in a similar organization of sorts. I worked for a company that was called a prime contractor to the Naval Nuclear Propulsion Program. At the time of the Challenger disaster we proudly hailed over one million nautical miles sailed under nuclear power without accident. One million nautical miles…was in fact our tag line often used with Congress and others. NASA’s success, erased in an instant, along with the seven precious lives that trusted in the huge complex of programs, processes, and people to keep them safe, was eerily similar to ours.

There were many lessons we learned from Challenger, and some we took to heart. One of those heart-lessons was the idea of a “dissenting opinion.” This is not a new idea. The Supreme Court had been doing it for decades—issuing dissenting opinions. The post disaster investigation revealed that it was more than the infamous O-ring that led to the loss of our American heroes—heroes that trusted in the organization with all its history and success. Imagine, within the organization people were saying, and saying it out loud, to stop, to wait, to not move forward. Yet the flood of pressure to launch, to succeed, filled the organization that had no system, that had no way to hear these voices, no process to channel these voices to the ears who needed to hear them. The result was that these small voices were relegated to the unsatisfying role of prophet. Following this organizational failure, my one million nautical mile organization mandated a process, installed a conduit, that would bring dissenting opinions, however small, to the ears of those who made the decisions, so they would hear—and consider.

Why this 350 word introduction about an almost 20 year old failure? Because today I find myself part of an organization rushing forward, caught up in its own version of success, caught up in its own sense of importance. In terms of mission, what could be more important than the mission of God. The organization, the Episcopal Church, believes it is right in re-shaping itself, and many of the 2,000 year old norms of Christianity. Beyond belief, is its urgency, its urgency to advance its mission. The signs of this urgency, the signs of this drive are present everywhere as the build up to General Convention 2015 yields, indeed spews, report after report calling for change.

I found myself reading one of these many reports. It was filled with the hard work, with the hopes and dreams of its authors. Yet it possessed a very specific attribute—certainty. It screamed, “We are right!” As I read it I found myself underlining phrases, scribbling notes in the margins, and at times just drawing question marks next to paragraphs in utter amazement. Then it hit me, “I am the dissenting opinion.” In that moment I simply put down my pen. Why? Because there is a difference. Today I live in an organization with a healthy sense of urgency, but with no process, no systems, to prevent its rush to succeed from sending it blindly careening over a cliff. I live in an organization not interested in dissenting opinions, indeed not interested in dissenters.

In my prior life I at times held the dissenting position. Post-Challenger that opinion was welcomed. I in fact was challenged to hone my arguments, to present them in the most convincing way possible. I remember the day a technical submittal, complete with its dissenting opinion received the most amazing response from Headquarters. Headquarters had read both technical arguments, and concluded the dissenting opinion was the better choice. That day it was not my opinion. It was the opinion of a single engineer in a sea of thousands of engineers. It was the opinion of a single voice. It was an opinion expressed in an organization that had learned how to put in place checks and balances as it pushed head-long into its critical mission.

Today in my setting I hear much of how we need to “talk more” and “listen more.” Of course talking and listening is critical. But to those of us who are in the minority, it seems less as if we are talking and listening, and perhaps more like we are receiving a “talking to.” There needs to be a point in the process beyond talking and listening. There needs to be a point in the process that asks, in fact desires, that the dissenting opinion be presented. As I look across the issued reports to those consulted, both within and outside our church, all I see are like-minded voices. These reports look nothing like my reports of old that explored various opinions as people wrestled for the best answer.

The people of our church, people who trust the processes—procedures—who trust the people in authority to find the best answer, need to know that the dissenting voice is being heard. What might such a world look like? It looks less like an “either-or” world and more like a world where people, listening to the other point of view, rather than capitulate, refine their own view and their understanding of the other position. It looks like a world where those in authority take the leadership risk of actually caring about the dissenters and their opinions—so much so that they allow themselves the possibility, however remote, to agree. In the end it really is a leadership issue. Will the leaders put in place processes to where they themselves want the various opinions heard? Will the leaders actually lead all the people?

They should. An effective dissenting opinion process results in better decisions, usually for the majority. I recommend that our bishops consult with other organizations that have put in place such processes, and do so for our church. I recommend that each report to the General Convention and beyond seek out, cultivate, and include the dissenting opinion—rather than talking it into submission or silencing it. When these voices are silenced they will either struggle in silence, or simply leave. Have not enough already left? We as the church need these voices. We need simply look at our history, to all the times we have silenced those voices, to see all the times we erred. I urge those in power in the Episcopal Church to heed well the lesson from the Space Shuttle Challenger…that within our Church there are voices that possess real concerns, voices that possess real knowledge—voices that perhaps can prevent catastrophe.