Companies have been using the name ‘centurion’ for years. In the effort to give a company a sense of leadership, security and reliability, evoking the image and prestige of a chieftaincy is a good choice. But who were they actually? What have they done to earn their reputation? And most importantly, what can we learn from them to improve our own leadership? Today we look at the Centurion’s one secret that made him the iconic leader he is.
Who were the Centurions?
There is a Centurion Home Healthcare company, Centurion wakeboard boats, Centurion Pipeline, Centurion Store Supplies, Centurion Subsea Services, Centurion Construction Group, a Centurion research and security company, Centurion Restaurant Group and a Centurion financial services company. The list goes on. It seems like there’s a company called “Centurion” for pretty much everything you can think of.
Why all the fuss about centurions? Because they have a reputation for strength, security, and reliable, capable leaders. Companies across the spectrum want their customers to see them in the same light, so they incorporate the name. But for true centurions, it took much more than a name change to develop the reputation they have.
A centurion was a Roman soldier who commanded a group of 80 other soldiers called a century. Six of these centuries formed a cohort. The best of the centurions was selected to command those 480 men. Ten cohorts led by centurions made up the 5,000 men of a Roman legion.
At every level of leadership, centurions were the heart and soul of the Roman army. When the commander of the legion wanted to get something done, he turned to the centurions to make it happen. They arranged the details of military life in garrison, caring for the needs and training of their soldiers and leading them into battle when the time came. Without a core of skilled, capable centurions, the Roman army would have been nothing more than a well-armed band.
Capable, experienced, caring
Most centurions came from the ranks. You couldn’t become a chief until you had served fifteen to twenty years and proven yourself to be capable, smart, obedient and courageous. Any centurion worthy of the name was already highly skilled, had vast experience, and had earned the respect of both his commanders and fellow soldiers even before entering the job.
Almost two thousand years ago the Roman historian wrote Vegetaius described the chief as chosen: “for his expertise in all exercises. He must be alert, temperate, active, and ready to obey the commands he receives rather than to talk; Strict in practicing and maintaining proper discipline among his soldiers.” He adds that it is the chieftain’s duty: “to be attentive to everything that concerns the health or discipline of menunder his command.
So that’s the short version of who he was: skilled, experienced and caring for the troops. That’s a great starting point for any leader. But what was the chief’s secret that gave him the strong, positive reputation he enjoys? It had to do with his helmet.
Another helmet
The common Roman soldier’s helmet often had a colorful crest running across the top from front to back, Mohawk style. The chief’s helmet also had a crest, but it ran in the opposite direction – from left to right. It was bigger and more flamboyant than that of the soldiers. It was also very distinctive compared to the helmet crests of the other centurions. No one else’s helmet looked like his; there was no doubt as to who and where he was at any given time.
Why the difference with the helmet? Leadership.
First, it made the wearer appear taller and more dominant. It could be imposing to look at, and therefore more likely to encourage immediate compliance with orders.
For another it served as a gathering point. In the confusion of battle, formations of soldiers could become mixed up. One way for the men of a given century to keep track of where they needed to be was to look for their chieftain’s signature helmet crest and go there.
The gun made him a target. Standing out on a battlefield is not always a good thing. From the enemy’s perspective, anyone who clearly functions as a leader immediately becomes a prime target. The chief knew and accepted that reality as part of the cost of leadership. His men also knew that he was at greater risk than they were, and were all the more willing to follow him for it. It’s the old equivalent of taking the heat for the team.
The distinctive helmet crest did all these things, but the secret of the chieftain lay in something else.
The Centurion’s Secret
The weapon loudly communicated the actions of the chieftain who carried it. The chieftain’s ethos was to be the first to enter battle and the last to retreat. He marched forward to the right of the front line. If a soldier had any doubt about what was expected of him, all he had to do was look to his right, see what his captain was doing, and do the same.
The captain did not issue orders that he himself did not want to follow. He did the opposite; he carried out the order and expected his men to follow. His every action amounted to a command, every move required compliance.
The chief’s secret was leadership by example.
The centurion’s secret – the takeaway
Could we as modern leaders use the same approach?
- Would we want our team to know where we were and what we were doing at all times, knowing that they could emulate us?
- Would we want to put ourselves in a position where we would have to take responsibility for developing their professional skills and looking after their personal well-being?
- Would we like to be a rallying point to draw attention to the confusion and show resolve in the face of uncertainty?
- Would we personally like to embody the ethos and culture from our team?
- Should we be willing to accept greater risk because of our leadership position and take responsibility when things go wrong?
If we want to consider ourselves leaders, I think the answer to all these questions must be an emphatic yes. We should be taking advantage of the chief’s secret already.
I’m not sure we literally need to put on a chieftain’s helmet with its brilliant cross crest to lead this way. That might look strange on the Zoom meeting, and we should buy convertibles for the commute.
But whether we wear the emblem or not, our people look at us as if we were.
The secret of the centurion is to remember that fact and make sure that every action we take is worth following.
Lead on!
