The Listening Post is a new Cipher Brief column specifically highlighting the experiences of women in the national security space, in both the public and private sectors. This new weekly column is a collection of stories, interviews, and profiles of women who have pioneered change and have inspired others along the way.
For our first interview, we called on former Principal Deputy Director of National Intelligence Susan M. Gordon, who left her position last August. With nearly forty years of service to the Intelligence Community under her belt, we wanted to talk to her about the highs and lows of her career, how she persisted through tough times and how she was able to succeed along the way thanks to others who knowingly or unknowingly, served as inspiration.
How did you get your start in the IC? What prompted you to pursue government service as a career?
I joined the CIA in the fall of 1980, right after I graduated from Duke University. I intended to pursue graduate study, but I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to get a PhD in my technical field of biomechanics or whether I wanted to go to law school, so I thought I’d get a job. My dad was career Navy, so I was inclined to public service. Interestingly, one of his best friends was Stan Turner, who had just become the Director of Central Intelligence, and so when CIA came to campus, I thought I’d interview. And it worked out—what started as a job became a passion. Because the CIA has a really diverse mission and a culture that values performance over pedigree, I got the chance to grow as far as my interests and abilities would allow.
How many total years of government service?
31 and a little. I took a break in service from 1999-2007 to finish raising my family, which is why the math doesn’t work out given the date I entered on duty. That said, when 9/11 happened during the years I was away, I, like almost everyone who had been in the Community, asked what I could do to help. I became an independent contractor for the Directorate of Science and Technology, working on new technology strategies to address the new threat, and continuing to advance public-private collaboration. So, in my head, I worked in intelligence for almost forty years.
You took time off to raise a family. When you look back, right decision? Would you have done anything differently?
Absolutely the right decision. And I can confidently say that ANY decision made for family is a good decision. It doesn’t mean that there won’t be consequence, or that faced with the same situation I had, everyone would do what I did (simply leaving, taking away more that half our family’s income, and being a full-time mom), but taking care of the humans in your life is important, and, truly, work and career will still be there—albeit differently, perhaps. Given how wonderfully it worked out—that I did what I needed to do for my family, and they are all thriving, and that I got the chance to continue serving my country in increasingly cool ways—it would feel somehow ungrateful to wish for difference. That said, when I came back to leadership roles in 2007, I worked hard to make sure that when my people found themselves in conflict between work and home (or any other important aspect of their life) they had other choices than to simply leave.
Most difficult moment in the course of your career?
If you work for a long time, and if you care about what you do, you’re going to have lots of difficult moments. Moments of failure, moments of choice, moments of decision, moments of conflict, and moments of uncertainty that test you, challenge your belief in yourself and your organization, demand you draw a line in the sand, make you accept responsibility for things gone wrong, and even cause you to question what you’ve given your life to. I worked for a long time, and so I’ve had each of those (to go along with moments of triumph, and moments of unimaginable pride in collective accomplishments of my Community.)
By far, however, my most difficult was resigning from my position as the Principal Deputy Director of National Intelligence last August when it became clear that the President—for his reasons alone—would not nominate me to fill the position of DNI upon Dan Coats’ resignation, nor was he interested in me becoming the Acting Director, as statute would have dictated. Three things combined to make it impossible: that I couldn’t figure out what happened and consequently “fix it”; that I knew it meant that my government career was over; and that, worst of all, I wouldn’t be in the foxhole with my mates during a really challenging time. My decision was ultimately to be who I am: I accepted the decision of the person who gave me the job; I tried to give the Community my confidence that they didn’t need me—that they are the strength of the IC, and as long as they keep doing their best, it will be OK; and I left quietly, because to do otherwise would be antithetical to my beliefs.
Most rewarding moment over the course of your career?
Just like the last answer, so, so many great moments that I was graced to be a part of and do my part for.
Maybe the formation of In-Q-Tel because it ushered in a new approach to acquisition, to public-private partnership, and to engagement in the open (and all that allows). And, it re-demonstrated the IC and government’s capacity for innovation and quick response, because it was different—unheard-of even—and still it happened really fast: from idea to incorporation in seven months.
But there were so many others, big and small, mostly unseen that demonstrated to me the worthiness of the national security quest, the power of great intelligence to change the course of history for the better, the benefit of integration across all sorts of organizational boundaries, the difference a single individual can make, and the shocking combination of ability, dedication, and selflessness that made magic happen within a government construct. The UBL takedown is a great example of this, but it is only one example.
One moment, or series of moments, was when I was Director of Support for the CIA. I believed that one of my jobs was to be there, on the tarmac at Dover, every time a patriot came home for the last time. Unfortunately, I got to experience that terrible honor many times during my tenure. I don’t know why, but it always seemed to happen around midnight, and each time I met the families as we waited for a plane to land with their loved ones who had lost their lives in service to us. They were always so young, so at their beginning, and facing unimaginable loss, often with small children in tow. And somewhere in the middle of me consoling them, they consoled me; assuring me that their loved one wanted to be doing what they were doing, and that it was OK. The grace shown me in those small, quiet moments has always stood out to me as the best example of who we are as a Community—and I was always inspired to be worthy of them.
And then finally, perhaps surprisingly, to be nominated by the President and subsequently confirmed by the Senate for my position as PDDNI. In my opening statement of my confirmation hearing I said, “Simply put, I love America. To be part of a process that our founders envisioned is my greatest dream.” I love that I got to lead my Community of heroes, to be a player in our National Security process, and to serve my country at the highest level.
When did you first start, (what year) and what did you feel like going to work that first day?
I began with the CIA in the fall of 1980, right after graduating from Duke and getting married to the love of my life. I was so shiny and new. I was just 22, and so excited to be beginning; so earnest; and so, committed to be good at whatever I did. I also had no idea of what my job would actually be, or how to do it. Grin. I think, actually all that describes the whole of my career!
My first job was in an iconic office, the Office of Scientific and Weapons Research, in the Directorate of Intelligence. We were responsible for technical analysis of Soviet weapons systems and for providing advantage to the us war fighting and policy communities. Every person I met was so brilliant, and they were all so focused on delivering insight, but with a real dependence on craft. I had to learn the craft of intelligence. My job was a typical entry job: it wasn’t big, it wasn’t sexy, and I had lots of levels of oversight. But I loved it, learned it, and everything I became in some way came from that first step.
There were few women, but I never felt alone or hindered in my advance. It felt massively egalitarian, and a place where if you delivered, you had value.
What have been the significant changes to the mission over the years and how do you see future threats evolving?
Holy smokes, I’ve seen so many changes. From the Cold War where our focus was disproportionately on the Soviets and we hunted for information held by governments. Our customers were almost exclusively warfighters and policy makers; through the fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of proliferation where we needed to develop sources and insight on the a whole new set of adversaries; through the Global War on Terror where the threats were non-nation states and the information was held by individuals not governments and we had to develop new cyber capabilities because that’s what the threat demanded; through this time of Great Power competition where the threats are disproportionately to and through information and the primary driver of geopolitics are economic considerations.
I think the future will be dominated by computing, data science, and information technologies—the keys to data dominance. I also think the future will be dictated by the Community’s ability to act in the open, use the information that the world knows for advantage, and to be able to be a driver of trust in the systems and technologies upon which we rely. All this is way too short a discussion for a really powerful conversation—what will the Community do to know the truth, see beyond the horizon, and allow leaders to act before events dictate, in a world that is changing under our feet. Said differently, the mission is constant, the way it gets effected changes with the environment. Commitment to the mission is good, willingness to do it differently is the key to success.
Who have been the true mentors that have helped you along the way and what did they do for you?
I have learned from everyone whose path I was lucky enough to cross—seriously. I feel like I am just an amalgam of the opportunities I had, and the wisdom offered me along the way. Donna Dewitt, Joanne Isham, Bob Pelletier, Barry Leven, Gordon Oehler, Dennis Fitzgerald, Jeff Grant, Bob Foord, Chris Holmes, Jim Parsons, Bonnie Hershberg, Sandra Kruzman, Ruth David, Michael Morell, John McLaughlin, Dave Petraeus, Tish Long, and too many more to name here were and are mentors of mine (even if they didn’t know it!)
If I had to choose one, it would probably be my predecessor as Principal Deputy Director of National Intelligence, Stephanie O’Sullivan. Interestingly, at one point in my career, I was her senior, but events unfolded that she became mine, and then we became peers. Weird and wonderful, right? When she first became MY boss in 2007, she quickly became who I wanted to be as a leader: smart, challenging, so good at what she did that she allowed me to be good at what I did with confidence. When she became the PDDNI and I became the Deputy at the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, our relationship changed to be more partners in shared quest, and she became the person who could give me perspective from her (higher) vantage point. And once I ascended to the position she had just vacated, she became my most trusted advisor—interestingly not because we were the same, but because we were so different. When I faced challenges, she was the one I would call—not because she would tell me what I wanted to hear, but because she knew enough to tell me what she thought I needed to hear. I often didn’t follow her counsel, but my decisions were always better for the counsel she gave. Mentors are amazing, abundant if you’re open, and game changing as you get more senior.
How important is it to you to pay it forward and what can that look like today?
I’ve always felt a sense of opportunity and responsibility as I pursued my craft: opportunity to stand on the shoulders of giants to serve my turn in delivering outcome; responsibility to be worthy of the legacy that my predecessors gifted me. And now, it is my turn to give to those who follow everything that was given to me so that the future is as bright (or brighter) than our past.
The particular version of paying it forward that I’m pursuing even though I’ve moved on from the government is to inspire the next generation to consider working in national security—whether for the government or for industry—regardless of how fraught the moment seems. And the talent and passion that young people bring to the table today is amazing. I want them to work, at least for part of their careers, for the country. I am also trying to use my newfound presence in the private sector to help these amazing developers and tacit decision makers that they share responsibility for not only advance but for secure advance.
What is the one thing that the IC needs to address to make it an easier place for talented people to work?
We need to make getting a clearance faster, more persistent, and more effective. We (the Intelligence Community—I really do have to adjust my pronouns!) can compete successfully head to head with the private sector on the basis of challenge, purpose, and early responsibility. We can, at least at the start of a career, compete financially (if we include intrinsic rewards) with most. But we can’t make people wait two years to be cleared to join, nor a year to move between entities—whether between governmental entities or companies. This doesn’t mean we give up on having a trusted workforce—we just have to figure out how to do it now. Technology should provide real assist here, and we need leaders who understand how to measure and accept technical risk. And budgets for support (the people who do security) need to be increased. This is no longer a policy issue, it’s an implementation issue.
And though you said, “one thing,” I have to add another imperative—we have to introduce technology, at scale, faster. We do this not just because technology enables mission, but the talent we’re seeking thinks about using technology to do their work. And, it’s the organization’s job to create an environment that unlocks the potential of our talent, not tells the talent “this is how we do things.”
What's your favorite story about realizing that you made a difference?
I served my turn, as well as I could. Little more. That said, this past year when I left my job, and, weirdly both my resignation letter and accompanying personal note were made public, I got random notes from people I never met thanking me for making them believe again that there is goodness in government. That was a pretty good day.
What’s next for Susan Gordon?
Next for me is continuing to contribute to national and global security, albeit differently, by advising those responsible for national security—the government, the private sector, and the populous—on strategy, technology, and leadership. I’ll offer my experience in seeing the world for what it is and dealing successfully with it anyway. I’m exited for the new adventure and “becoming” once more. I’ll also make time for all the things I had to sacrifice to have the amazing career I had.
Oh, and I’m just as optimistic about the future as I was on my first day. We just have to turn to and create anew!
To nominate someone to be interviewed for The Listening Post, please send us an email telling us who you are, and why you’re nominating the individual. By the way, you can also nominate yourself. It’s something that traditionally, women aren’t used to doing. Here, it’s welcomed. Drop us a line at Editor@thecipherbrief.com.
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