It’s alleged that Alexander the Great once marched his army to the outside of a heavily fortified city and demanded the ruler to surrender.

“Why would I do that?” the ruler asked. “Our walls are impenetrable and we have a much larger army. We will never surrender. Now begone!”

Alexander replied, “I would like for you to see something.” He then ordered his soldiers to form a single file line. They were facing a cliff and the bottom was littered with jagged rocks. As the ruler and his people watched from behind their wall, Alexander ordered, “Now march!” and the men began marching off the end of the cliff, one by one, falling to their deaths.

The leader and his people were aghast in horror.

After ten soldiers had fallen, Alexander stopped the march, returned to the city ruler and said, “I repeat, sir, surrender!”

The ruler gave in and Alexander captured the city without a fight.

We might surmise that Alexander was heartless to sacrifice 10 of his soldiers as a cruel exercise, but one might also make the argument that in doing so, he avoided much greater bloodshed and destruction by avoiding conflict. Either way, the story is often told to emphasize the power of loyalty and commitment to mission.

Since leaving the State Department in 2014 as a Special Agent with the Diplomatic Security Service, people have often asked me: Do you have any regrets? My response? Yes. I miss many of the people who were committed to the cause and the mission mentality shared by most within the foreign service and intelligence communities. Let’s not forget, the term mission is often synonymous with Embassy or Consulate and the person in charge of those places — the Ambassador — is also commonly known as the Chief of Mission. This harkens back to a time in which travel to foreign posts could take months, destinations could be austere, assignments lasted many years, and trips home rarely occurred until the end of one’s tour.

I found most within the foreign service to be among the most loyal and committed people I’d even encountered, particularly those who routinely chose hardship posts in conflict zones.

And then there were those who were simply in it for a paycheck. Many in the foreign service signed up for hardship posts just to earn extra money. I found many of them to be among the least motivated, doing as little as possible and counting the days down until their tours were over and they could return home. They had little respect among their peers and were avoided. They often seemed depressed and miserable. Was it worth it?

I also worked closely and lived with another group of people not commonly associated with the foreign service. I had the honor and privilege to work with and learn from security contractors in Iraq, Israel, and Afghanistan. They were employed with companies whose names often invited criticism — DynCorp, Triple Canopy, and Blackwater (later called Academi and then International Development Solutions when I worked in Mazar-i-Sharif, Afghanistan).

Often saddled with impossible missions and provided little government support, these ex-military and first responders did what few within the U.S. Government wanted or had the capacity to do: defended diplomatic personnel from attacks and enabled statecraft within warzones and other conflict areas. Many paid with their lives. Few received official recognition. If contractors became complacent or slovenly, they were typically sent home rarely asked to come back.

The term mercenary often has a negative connotation. It conjures up images of a bloodthirsty soldier who lacks a moral compass, a paid killer or an assassin who simply engages in violence for a paycheck. No honor. No commitment to the mission. No higher calling. No purpose. Security contractors were often (inaccurately) branded as mercenaries, yet I would just as well assign the term to anyone who is simply “in it for the money” or has lost one’s calling.

Which prompts the question: If you’re just doing a job just for a paycheck, what’s the point? If we spend at least 50% of our waking hours working, shouldn’t work be meaningful? Shouldn’t it have purpose? Most of us have the luxury of choosing our careers and work within systems which reward success. No matter what one’s job is, there can always be a higher mission, a purpose, and gratification is usually associated with enhancing others’ lives and solving problems.

Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has often contrasted missionaries and mercenaries by describing missionaries as individuals driven by a profound passion for their product, service, or customers. The goal of the missionary is to create something meaningful, provide lasting value, and make a real impact. The mindset of a missionary is to focus on building a great service for the long haul and to believe in a mission bigger than themselves. Missionaries are more likely to persevere through challenges and stay committed when the going gets tough. They have purpose.

The mercenary, on the other hand, is primarily focused on quick financial gains and profit. His or her goal is to move on to the next venture for a quick win. They’re opportunistic, chasing short-term gains without a deep concern for lasting value.

“The security risk management field is a noble calling. The most successful among us have a mission mentality about our chosen profession.”

I Want to be Around Missionaries, not Mercenaries.

The security risk management field is a noble calling. The most successful among us have a mission mentality about our chosen profession. Our remit to safeguard people, property, information, and processes, is a privilege and few struggle with the concept of purpose. Many have public service backgrounds as former soldiers, intelligence analysts, and first responders and have taken numerous oaths throughout their lives to defend our institutions for the public good and many have paid the ultimate sacrifice — and made the ultimate commitment — losing their lives in the fulfillment or their mission.

Ghandi once said, “In order to find oneself, one must first lose oneself in service to others.” Numerous studies have concluded that when we feel like we lack purpose in life, we conclude there is no purpose in life. Retirees and veterans often struggle with this as they transition from demanding, fast-paced, meaningful work into a lifestyle of leisure or simpler careers. Those of us who can drive standard transmissions know it’s nearly impossible to downshift from fifth gear into first. Such is life. Thankfully, in a profession which is centered upon service to others, we rarely struggle to “find” ourselves. When we do, it’s often when we’re sidetracked and dealing with elements of the job which get in the way of our core mission, such as administration, internal squabbling, or problems outside of our control. When noise like this clouds our judgement, we must step away from it, refocus on the mission, and dial back into the signal.

Ours is not an 8-to-5 profession. Senior security leaders are often asked, “What keeps you up at night?” The questioner frequently asks to hear of some exigent threat or troubling pattern of risk. I’ve come to learn that when one is confident in one’s team and the systems emplaced to manage most common threats, there will always be outliers for which we have limited control, things not worth losing sleep over. What keeps the missionary up at night is wondering if someone reached out for help and they somehow missed the call or if they promised to get back to a colleague or friend and became sidetracked. Missionaries regularly wake up at 3 a.m. realizing they’d flagged an email earlier in the day to remind themselves to follow up with someone and didn’t get back to them by the end of the day. Sometimes it’s a critical cry for help and others it’s not, but missionaries know someone out there needs their assistance or expects something from them and they and HATE feeling like anything is owed to anyone — an answer, a report, an opinion. Colleagues of the missionary often think they’re traveling overseas when they see their email time stamps at odd hours when, in fact, they’re probably in the same time zone and simply forgot to get back to them during the workday. This certainly isn’t a practice recommended if one prioritizes a perfect work-life balance, but it’s routine among those committed to a mission.

Missionaries recognize that happiness is a trailing indicator when we maximize our efforts for impact.

“How do you measure success?” is another common question security risk managers get. We often debate this among ourselves, so it’s incredibly challenging to articulate to non-security types. While we can point to the quantifiable — number of incident reports, audit scores, closed cases, dollars saved, near-miss and loss events — we must never overlook the qualifiable elements of our jobs. Do people feel safer? Does senior management trust us? Do our teams respect us? And one of the best indicators I’ve found: Do those around us contact us for help when dealing with personal crises?

Working in hospitality has reinforced my missionary vs. mercenary perspective. General managers of hotels are among the most resilient people I’ve encountered and they’re very similar to foreign service officers. Accepting a nomadic global lifestyle, they uproot their families regularly and must blend in with diverse cultures to be successful. They work very long hours and are gifted in diplomacy, bending over backwards not only to support every reasonable guest request, but also when leading the small armies of staff required at large full-service hotels. And yet, even these miracle workers require support. So, when they contact their security teams, it’s often exigent. While the security team member may not be the expert for every request, he or she is the expert at that time because the caller trusts they can help. Missionaries know it’s an honor and incredibly gratifying to be in such a position to be of such service to others.

As we consider those remembered throughout history, it’s often because of their contributions to the common good, their service or sacrifice to others. Even titans of industry like J.D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie, once the wealthiest people on the planet, are now known not for their wealth, but for their generous charitable contributions which have enhanced people’s lives. While we will never reach that scale of fame or influence, we’re in a unique position to impact others positively simply by doing our jobs well. What a wonderful position to be in.

So, when your phone rings at 3 a.m., will you answer it, or will you allow other priorities to get in the way?

Are you a missionary or a mercenary?