bout de papier, Vol. 9, No. 4 (1992) — Fall 1992 // Automne 1992, p. 8
Life after the Foreign Service is good — in fact marvellous.
When I joined the Foreign Service in 1961, it was rather like getting married. Till death do us part: that was the expectation. Neither I nor any of the other eleven FSOs in that year had the slightest idea of ever serving a master other than External during our working lives. If anyone had told me then that one day in the relative prime of my career at the age of 52 I would voluntarily pack my tent, I would have thought them mad.
But then, the 60s were another era — the halcyon days, the golden era. Morale was at its peak; we were undeniably the senior service. New posts were opening and with just a bit of luck and hard work we could all pretty much count on reaching ambassadorial rank.
From there the track led basically downhill. By the 80s, stories of External’s abdication of its previously leading role scarcely raised an eyebrow. Patronage appointments were a way of life. It had become commonly accepted that the route to the most senior ranks in the Public Service lay not in getting into External, but rather in getting out of External.
But that is another tale.
The story here is a positive one. Whatever its warts, the Service provided marvellous experience of other cultures and wonderful opportunities to broaden one’s horizons. Throw in the exposure to international politics, trade and management — and one could become a valuable commodity.
More by happenstance than anything else, I ended up as Foreign Service visitor at the University of Calgary following completion of my assignment in India. I had never set foot in Calgary before 1986 and had no intention of staying more than a year. Fate, however, ruled otherwise and I became involved in the new International Centre the University was creating. One thing led to another; I was offered a job as its first Executive Director — and here I am some six years later.
To my surprise I have suffered not a moment’s nostalgia. I enjoyed every minute in the Service, and was fortunate enough to have spent most of my career abroad. If I were re-scripting that part of my life, I would not change anything. But leaving External — as I discovered only when the breach was complete — was to experience an exquisite form of liberation. After years of cocktail parties, scrambling to climb the career ladder, pursuing nonsensical and often contradictory bureaucratic directives and licking ministerial boots, the relief of shedding all that baggage is something that has to be experienced to be appreciated.
Perhaps more than anything else, I enjoy the freedom at this stage in life to do my own thing: to come up with fresh ideas; to say what I think and write what I want; to ride a motorcycle; to break out of the conventional mould which diplomatic life presses you into. I regard lost ambassadorial trappings philosophically, contemplate the transitory nature of life and am sometimes amused by colleagues still in the service who take themselves much too seriously. Occasional forays to stuffy Ottawa and incursions into murky Embassies abroad only confirm a certain exhilaration at having left the world of DMs and ADMs and Excellencies behind.
In the International Centre, we occupy ourselves with many things: conferences, seminars, executive development programs, development projects. New initiatives this past year ranged from creating groups for research and education in human rights and democratic processes, to laying the groundwork for a new international residential program and developing a thrust for greater student mobility in Canada. I travel more now in a year than I ever did with External.
As a hobby I write a monthly column for the Calgary Herald, and occasionally do commentaries for radio and TV. I served as an election observer for the OAS in Nicaragua and El Salvador — and was offered jobs of varying lengths on several occasions by other international organizations. There have been other job openings — for example, to take on the leadership of an NGO.
The point is that the rich experience acquired by most Foreign Service officers in the course of their careers is in demand; the opportunities for using one’s time profitably are endless. I cannot claim any special equipment over and above that which any FS with twenty-seven years of service might have. Nor do I think that it was particularly a matter of being in the right place at the right time. Rather, the openings are there — in academia and business, journalism and consulting and the not-for-profit sector — for those who are willing to look for them and to make the necessary adjustments.
This latter requirement should not be under-rated. Few employers are looking for pampered diplomats or those accustomed to ambassadorial perks. Be prepared to bring yourself up to speed on a computer, do without a secretary, answer your own phone, type your own letters, travel excursion class, and empty your own trash bucket. Your salary may be significantly better than you got in External — or significantly lower. But with a reasonable pension, financial considerations are secondary.
From the perspective of some six years away from External — and taking the conditions of the Foreign Service today into account — I can only say that I think everyone, including those with the good fortune to advance to senior positions, should seriously consider the possibility of early retirement and a second career. The benefits which flow from reduced stress, positive change and the opportunity to engage in creative activity are indeed substantial.
The other side of the coin is that to cling too tenaciously and too dearly to the diplomatic lifestyle — or to work oneself into ill health in the hope of reward — is to court eventual disenchantment and perhaps even bitterness. Political appointees can usually expect to be honoured at a ministerial dinner when they step down; others are indeed fortunate if the system remembers to ask them for the return of their diplomatic passport.
By far better to chart one’s course in such a way as to move out in purposeful fashion — than to fade facelessly away or suffer any one of the various indignities devised by the Department and perpetrated on its aging and faithful servants.
It is difficult to pinpoint a magic age for making a career move. But it probably lies somewhere between forty and fifty-five. Much beyond that and one tempts, I think, the goddess of health and energy — and also finds would-be employers less enthusiastic. One cannot, of course, be categoric on this score; certainly there are examples of colleagues who went the full course and yet managed to find a demand for their services after retirement. But they tend to be in a minority.
The Foreign Service, for all its faults, still offers one of the most rewarding and exciting careers one can achieve. But today, the Service should probably be viewed as a way-station — not an end-station.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 9, No. 4 (1992) — Fall 1992 // Automne 1992, p. 8. Read the rest of this issue →
