McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be
delivered to Garcia;
Rowan took the letter and did not ask, "Where is he at?"
— Elbert Hubbard
In our teamwork-obsessed era, when it takes a village just to turn the lights on, we'd do well to bring back into everyday use the phrase "a message to Garcia."
As the Thesaurus of Traditional English Metaphors explains, to "take a message to Garcia" is to "accept responsibility and have enough courage and resourcefulness to complete a task."
Responsibility, courage and resourcefulness are clearly absent from the workplace today.
The phrase a "message from Garcia" originates from a once-popular 1899 essay about a certain army officer, First Lieutenant Andrew Rowan.
Relying solely on his wits, according to "A Message to Garcia," Lieutenant Rowan ran the Spanish blockade to deliver a crucial letter from then-President William McKinley to the Cuban rebel leader General Calixto Garcia, who was secreted in his mountain hideout.
The Spanish-American War was about to heat up and McKinley wanted Garcia to tell him how many Spanish troops occupied Cuba.
"There is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze," "A Message to Garcia" says of Rowan, "and the statue placed in every college in the land."
The point of the essay is simple: Rowan's exploits should prove to boys that, in a world where lethargy and irresponsibility are the norm, initiative trumps know-how every time.
"No man who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many hands were needed hasn't been appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man—the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it," "A Message to Garcia" says.
"Slipshod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indifference, and half-hearted work seem the rule; and no man succeeds, unless by hook or crook or threat he forces or bribes other men to assist him."
Rowan's guts and ingenuity are qualities every boy should strive to acquire, "A Message to Garcia" says.
"It is not book-learning young men need, nor instruction about this or that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies; do the thing—carry a message to Garcia!"
In short, the workplace needs studs, omni-competent self-starters who are willing to carry the ball without a full playbook, constant handholding, or the promise of a merit badge at the end.
Alas, the self-esteem movement—and its sappy replacement, social-emotional learning—have robbed our workplaces of studs.
Today, employees are entitled. To offer even a lick of initiative, they demand moment-by-moment mollycoddling by their employers in the form of continuous stimulation, entertainment, rewards and appreciation.
And so they are awarded gamified jobs, chill-out spaces, flexible hours, onsite masseurs, free catered lunches, nap pods, life coaching, artisanal coffee bars, and free gym memberships.
Above all, "A Message to Garcia" wants readers to know that their value to employers comes not from book-smarts or eagerness, but from a kind of deferential dutifulness, a quiet reliability that puts the "help" in "hired help."
"The man who, when given a letter for Garcia, quietly takes the missive, without asking any idiotic questions, and with no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer, or of doing aught else but deliver it, never has to go on strike for higher wages.
"Civilization is one long anxious search for just such individuals. Anything such a man asks will be granted; his kind is so rare that no employer can afford to let him go. He is wanted in every city, town, and village—in every office, shop, store and factory. The world cries out for such; he is needed, and needed badly—the man who can carry a message to Garcia."
