THE LAIRD-PACKARD WAY:

Unpacking Defense Acquisition Policy

Brian M. Fredrickson, Major, USAF
Air Command and Staff College

Evan L. Pettus, Brigadier General, Commandant

James Forsyth, PhD, Dean of Resident Programs

Paul Springer, PhD, Director of Research

Corbin Williamson, PhD, Essay Advisor

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AIR UNIVERSITY

AIR COMMAND AND STAFF COLLEGE

The Laird-Packard Way:

Unpacking Defense Acquisition Policy

Brian M. Fredrickson, major, usaf

Wright Flyer Paper No. 74

Air University Press

Muir S. Fairchild Research Information Center

Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama
Commandant, Air Command and Staff 

College

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Accepted by Air University Press April 2018 and published March 2020.

Disclaimer

Opinions, conclusions, and recommendations expressed or implied 

within are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the Department of Defense, the United States Air 

Force, the Air Education and Training Command, the Air University, or any other US government agency. Cleared for public release: 

distribution unlimited.

This Wright Flyer Paper and others in the series are available electronically at the AU Press website: https://www.airuniversity.af

.edu/AUPress/Wright-Flyers/.

Air University Press
iii

Contents

List of Illustrations v

Foreword vi

Abstract vii

About the Author xi

Acknowledgments xii

Author Foreword xiv

Introduction 1

Organization of the Paper 10

Part I: The Man 14

Mr. Inside: Packard’s Conflicts of Interest 16

The Education of David Packard: 1912-1938 18

Homemade Radios, Stanford, and Vacuum Tubes 18

Building a Culture of Innovation: 

Hewlett-Packard (HP), 1938-1969 20

From Garage to International Corporation 20

Management by Objective: The HP Way 21

How Packard Learned to Lead Large Organizations 21

Part II: The Situation 25

The Late-1960s: Uncertain Times 25

Challenge Accepted: Overcoming Civil-Military Tension 27

Challenge Accepted: The Failing Military Strategy in Vietnam 28

Challenge Accepted: The Need for Acquisition Reform 30

Laird Assembles His Team 34

Part III: Devising an Approach 37

Aligning Force Structure & Procurement with Commitments 37

Nixon Doctrine Solidifies—Reducing Commitments Abroad 42
iv

The Three Problems of DOD Acquisition Programs 46

Packard’s Axis of Evil—Overly Complex, 

Too Much Concurrency, Poorly Managed 46

Part IV: The Three Cogs 48

Reallocating Roles and Responsibilities 

Among the Services and OSD 48

The DSARC: Hewlett’s “Three Hats” Meet the Pentagon 48

The POM: The Fate of the “Whiz Kids” 51

The DPRC: A Third Cog Falls into Place . . . 

Validated Requirements 56

Part V: Packard’s Program by Program Approach to Reform 57

Case Study: The A-X Program 62

A Stacked Deck: Laird’s Team Ends 

the Close Air Support (CAS) Debate 62

Case Study: The B-1 Program 67

Applying Packard’s Principles to a Highly Complex, 

Niche Weapon System 67

The Packard Memo and DODD 5000.1: 

Turning Experience into Policy 70

Part VI: Packard’s Hail Mary–the Advanced 

Prototyping Initiatives 75

Adaptive Management 80

Voices of Concern 81

Packard Resigns from the Pentagon 86

Conclusion 87

On the Way Ahead 93

Follow-on Research 97

Notes 98

Abbreviations 114

Bibliography 116
v

List of Illustrations

Tables

1. Timeline of Events xiii

2. Five Dimensions of Defense Acquisition xv

3. Packard’s Principles of Defense Acquisition 11

4. FY1972 Advanced Prototyping Initiatives 76

5. The Six Advantages of Prototyping 78
vi

Foreword

It is my great pleasure to present another issue of The Wright Flyer Papers. 

Through this series, Air Command and Staff College presents a sampling of 

exemplary research produced by our residence and distance-learning students. This series has long showcased the kind of visionary thinking that 

drove the aspirations and activities of the earliest aviation pioneers. This year’s 

selection of essays admirably extends that tradition. As the series title indicates, these papers aim to present cutting-edge, actionable knowledge—

research that addresses some of the most complex security and defense challenges facing us today.

Recently, The Wright Flyer Papers transitioned to an exclusively electronic 

publication format. It is our hope that our migration from print editions to an 

electronic-only format will foster even greater intellectual debate among Airmen and fellow members of the profession of arms as the series reaches a 

growing global audience. By publishing these papers via the Air University 

Press website, ACSC hopes not only to reach more readers, but also to support Air Force–wide efforts to conserve resources. In this spirit, we invite you 

to peruse past and current issues of The Wright Flyer Papers at https://www

.airuniversity.af.edu/AUPress/Wright-Flyers/.

Thank you for supporting The Wright Flyer Papers and our efforts to disseminate outstanding ACSC student research for the benefit of our Air Force 

and war fighters everywhere. We trust that what follows will stimulate thinking, invite debate, and further encourage today’s air, space, and cyber war 

fighters in their continuing search for innovative and improved ways to defend our nation and way of life.

EVAN L. PETTUS

Brigadier General, USAF 

Commandant
vii

Abstract

Within liberal democracies, the weapons soldiers carry into battle determines the fate of nations, but the resources needed to build specific weapons 

must be allocated by elected representatives of the people years or even decades before a war or conflict begins. Therefore, to increase the odds of victory 

in future war, it is the responsibility of senior military leaders to learn how to 

fight two different types of battles, both on the battlefield (the art of waging 

war itself) and the battle that occurs within the realm of defense acquisition 

(the battle before the battle). This research intends to focus on the latter form 

of battle—the battles that occur within the realm of defense acquisition.

This paper contends that the study of David Packard, the co-founder of 

electronics firm giant Hewlett-Packard (HP) and one of the founding fathers 

of Silicon Valley, is essential for those who seek to understand better the 

realm of defense acquisition (the battles before the battle). David Packard 

served as deputy secretary of defense between January 1969 and December 

1971, significantly influencing modern defense acquisition policy and playing a critical role in the birth of fourth-generation airpower. This research 

focuses on the lessons learned from Packard’s experience, some developmental programs in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and the impact of those 

programs on Packard’s acquisition reform movement. Specific programs visited include the C-5, F-111, F-14, B-1, the A-X Competition, the Lightweight 

Fighter (LWF) Competition (YF-16, YF-17), and the Advanced Medium 

Short Take-off and Landing (STOL) Transport (AMST) Competition (YC14, YC-15). Packard’s three prototyping competitions, the A-X, AMST, and 

LWF, resulted in the rise of the A-10, F-16, F/A-18, and C-17. Within the 

realm of defense acquisition, lessons learned from these developmental programs are analogous to lessons learned from battles and operational campaigns, while the evolution of acquisition policy is analogous to the evolution of warfighting doctrine. Packard’s approach to acquisition, not the 

platforms themselves, is at the center of this study.

Packard’s reforms as deputy secretary opened a temporary window of opportunity that Air Force senior leaders effectively leveraged to launch arguably the most successful and comprehensive force modernization campaign 

since World War II. Much of Packard’s time in the Pentagon was spent aligning the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD) and the military services to 

more effectively and collectively combat what he believed were the “big three” 

problems with defense acquisition programs: trying to buy weapon systems 

with designs that were too complex and ambitious, allowing for too much concurrency (the deliberate overlap between the development and production), 
viii

and employing poor management practices (because of too frequent and 

poorly timed turnover of Department of Defense (DOD) program managers 

as well as the lack of authority provided to DOD program managers to make 

meaningful cost-schedule-performance trade-offs). Packard combated these 

problems with varying degrees of success.

However, while Packard’s reforms opened a window of opportunity that 

launched a new generation of platforms, very few of his reforms proved durable. The DOD’s approach to procuring weapon systems in recent decades is 

characterized by the exact problems that Packard warned against at the time. 

In the conclusion, the author hypothesizes why Packard’s three problems 

(concurrency, complexity, and poor management) are systemic, representing 

the natural state of programs within the defense acquisition system. Overall, 

this paper will explore how Packard became an agent for change and present 

evidence to make the following claims:

1. Acquisition reform does not have to be permanent to be meaningful. 

Much like warfighting doctrine, acquisition policy is a living, evolving 

document. This claim is in direct contrast to the assertion of renowned 

Harvard Professor J. Ronald Fox that effective acquisition reform is an 

Elusive Goal, a riddle waiting to be solved.1 Instead, this paper asserts that 

reform initiatives are inherently unsustainable. Such an interpretation 

refocuses reform initiatives toward the pursuit of specific aims rather 

than pursuing a durable solution that satiates all players within the system in the long-run. The battlefield of defense acquisition is continuously 

strewn with winners and losers; a durable solution that satisfies all players within the defense acquisition system does not exist. At the same 

time, Packard’s legacy indicates that it is possible to open a window of 

opportunity to achieve the goal of cost-effectively modernizing the force.

2. The defense acquisition system needs to move slower in the short-run 

to move fast in the long-run. Packard’s sequential, “fly-before-you-buy” 

approach to acquisition initially appeared to slow efforts to modernize 

the force; however, by delaying the production decision, increasing the 

amount of competition in the system, and breaking more extensive developmental programs into smaller programs (via prototyping competitions), Packard’s approach increased options available to senior policymakers in the long-run. As this paper will demonstrate, Packard’s 

approach mattered: the rise of fourth-generation airpower was not inevitable, particularly given the austere defense budgets of the 1970s.
ix

3. Military leaders should remain wary of calls for quick fixes and 

“rapid” approaches to acquisition, particularly those which prematurely commit the DOD to production contracts. Similar to war, defense acquisition can never be made quick and easy. Initiatives to accelerate the fielding of weapon systems via concurrency (even during 

wartime), including the F-111, C-5, and F-14 programs, were disastrous. 

In combat, military leaders are looked upon to make quick and decisive 

decisions based on incomplete information. In acquisition, Packard’s 

legacy indicates that military leaders can demonstrate patience in the 

face of pressure and make the correct decision, not the quickest decision, which matters most.

4. Effective force modernization requires long-term, strategic clarity. 

This paper will illustrate how Secretary of Defense Melvin Laird chartered Packard to look well into the future, beyond the Vietnam War and 

refocus acquisition efforts to develop capabilities to counter the rise of 

great powers such as China and Russia from the moment he stepped 

into the Pentagon.

5. The Laird-Packard Way remains relevant today. The technologies and 

weapons that the DOD procures have changed since the late 1960s, but 

the incentives which drive the behavior of various actors within the defense acquisition system remain the same. Packard’s approach to acquisition, not the weapon systems developed, is at the heart of “the LP 

[Laird-Packard] Way.”

6. The DOD can afford competition within the defense industrial base. 

Packard achieved it under more fiscally constrained conditions than 

currently exists.

7. Most stakeholders, particularly the services, will resist change. Therefore, a force external to the services (such as OSD) must initiate change.

8. If the DOD and OSD are dissatisfied with the state of the acquisition 

system, the problem of defense acquisition must be framed; clear intent must be disseminated. Throughout his tenure, Packard spoke often 

and consistently of the “three problems” of defense acquisition programs, 

whether during his public appearances, interviews with the media, or 

official correspondence within the DOD. Laird and Packard cared a great 

deal about the implementation of policy, much more so than the issuance 

of the policy itself. Packard’s legacy indicates that implementation, not 

authoring policy, is the primary roadblock of reform efforts.
x

Given recent calls for innovation and modernization, this research is timely 

and relevant. Packard’s experience offers a blueprint for addressing two of the 

US Air Force’s current top priorities. On 31 July 2017, Air Force senior leaders 

unveiled a list of five priorities: Restore Readiness, Cost-Effectively Modernize, 

Drive Innovation, Develop Exceptional Leaders, and Strengthen our Alliances.

2

This paper represents an initial iteration of the author’s ongoing study of David Packard’s legacy as deputy secretary. Although it falls short of a definitive 

history of Packard’s impact on the DOD, it is the most extensive account currently available and at a point where results should be added to the ongoing 

discussion on acquisition reform. Packard’s legacy offers particular utility to 

staff officers and acquisition professionals who are looking to arm their senior 

leaders with hard-hitting, relevant information on how to “fix” defense acquisition. The author will continue his study of defense acquisition history, focusing not on the barriers that exist within the system or the policy and 

weapon systems themselves but instead on senior military and OSD leaders 

who demonstrated exceptional ability to maneuver and achieve their aims 

within this realm. Finally, the author suggests a notional framework (Table 2. 

The Five Dimensions of Defense Acquisition) to frame the general discussion 

on acquisition reform as well as three questions he will focus on during follow-on research.

Notes

1. Fox, Defense Acquisition Reform, 1960-2009: An Elusive Goal, 37. 

2. Air Force Senior Leaders Unveil New Priorities,” Af.mil.
xi

About the Author

Maj Brian M. Fredrickson entered the Air Force in 2004 after receiving his 

commission from the United States Air Force Academy. He is a developmental engineer who believes there will be significant and far-reaching changes in 

how America and her allies will acquire weapon systems in the twenty-first 

century. Brian spent his career engaged in direct support of research, development, test, and evaluation efforts (RDT&E), noting that the characteristics of 

large acquisition programs have evolved significantly because of three factors: 

the consolidation of the US defense industrial base at the end of the Cold War, 

the nonlinear advancement of technology during the information age, and 

the globalization and commercialization of the aerospace industry and aircraft supply chains. As the DOD influence in commercial research and development (R&D) continues to erode, he believes the DOD must fundamentally 

change the way it acquires its weapons in the future.
xii

Acknowledgments

First, I wish to thank my advisor, Dr. Corbin Williamson for his time, feedback, and energy. Second, I wish to thank Dr. Paul Springer, Dr. Jonathan 

Zartman, Dr. John G. Terino, and the leadership at Air Command and Staff 

College for allowing students to conduct independent research. Third, I wish 

to thank the men and women at the OSD Historical Archives and the Pentagon Library—including Dr. Erin Mahan and Dr. Glen Asner—who accommodated my visit and facilitated my research. Fourth, I would like to thank 

Col Daniel Runyon, the acquisition and sustainment chair at Air War College 

for his time and support. Fifth, I would like to thank David Packard for his 

service to the nation as Deputy Secretary (and also for informally being my 

mentor for the year). All mistakes found herein are my own.

Most importantly, I wish to thank my wife for her patience.
xiii

Table 1. Timeline of Events

Timeline of Events: David Packard, Deputy Secretary 

Jan 1969-Dec 1971

David Packard born 7 September 1912 (Pueblo, CO)

1938: Packard and Bill Hewlett establish HP

1967

– Jun: Arab-Israeli War

– Jul: The Soviet Union unveils five all-new aircraft and four major revisions to existing aircraft 

including MiG-25 Foxbat (Domodedovo Air Show)

– Aug: Gen Westmoreland requests 200,000 troop surge to Vietnam (55,000 approved)

1968

– Jan: North Vietnamese launches Tet Offensive; North Korea seizes United States Ship (USS) 

Pueblo 

– 31 Mar: Lyndon B. Johnson abandons re-election bid and bombing campaign (Rolling Thunder)

– Mar-Apr: Combat Lancer: three of six F-111s are lost during operational debut in Vietnam

– 4 Apr: Martin Luther King Jr. assassinated in Memphis, TN

– 5 Jun: Democratic Presidential Candidate Robert Kennedy assassinated in Los Angeles

– Aug: Soviet tanks enter Czechoslovakia

1969

– Jan: President Nixon inaugurated (Melvin Laird becomes Secretary of Defense (SECDEF); 

Packard becomes Deputy Secretary of Defense (DEPSEC))

– May: Packard names “3 Problems”—too complex, too much concurrency, and too much 

turnover 

– May: Defense Systems Acquisition Review Council (DSARC) established [program management]

– Oct: Program Objective Memorandum (POM) established [resource management]

– Oct: Defense Program Review Committee (DPRC) established [validated needs]

– Oct: Packard completes National Security Study Memorandum (NSSM)-3

1970

– Jan: Nixon Doctrine: “we shall reduce involvement/presence in other nations’ affairs.”

– 1969-1972: DOD cuts military from 3.4M to 2.5M; DOD civilians from 1.2M to 1.1M; defense 

industry projected loss of 1M jobs; FY69-71 the budget drops 9%; factoring in inflation, the 

purchasing power of the defense budget reduced 16%

– 1969-1970: Packard incorporates “fly-before-you-buy” approach to procurement, not providing 

contractors promises of production program by program (S-3, F-15, AWACS, F-14, B-1)

– Jan-Mar 1970: Packard ends close air support (CAS) stalemate; launches A-X (YA-9, YA-10)

– May 1970: Packard issues acquisition guidance—“The Packard Memo.”

1971

– July 1971: Packard issues DOD Directive 5000.1 (formal Defense Acquisition Policy)

– Sept 1971: Testimony for Advanced Prototyping Initiatives

– Dec 1971: Of $67.5M requested for 12 programs, $12M received for two: LWF (YF-16, YF-17) 

and Advanced Medium STOL Aircraft (AMST) (YC-14, YC-15)

– 13 Dec 1971: Packard resigns and returns to HP

– 3 May 1973: White House confirms Packard top pick for SECDEF; Packard declines

– 26 Mar 1996: David Packard dies age 83 (Stanford, CA) 
xiv

Author Foreword

It makes no difference that we were the wealthiest nation in history. It 

makes no difference that we had the most powerful military establishment 

in the history of the world. It makes no difference that we had the largest 

and most efficient research and development capability. It is not what a 

nation is, but what it wants to be that determines its future.

-David Packard

Deputy secretary of defense, 1969-1971

Those who read this paper will hopefully walk away with a better understanding of how the Department of Defense (DOD) can go about “fixing” its 

troubled acquisition system. As a warning, using the term “fix” is limited in 

capacity. Carl von Clausewitz posited that war is “never an isolated act;” it 

“does not consist of a single short blow” and the result of war is never final as 

the “defeated state often considers the outcome merely as a transitory evil.”1

The same is true in defense acquisition reform. Acquisition reform, like 

warfare, is a zero-sum game. Given the relatively fixed nature of the RDT&E 

portions of the defense budget, acquisition-related decisions favorable to one 

set of programs and stakeholders are inevitably unfavorable to another. In 

other words, changes within the acquisition system naturally create winners 

and losers, so the results are rarely final. Thus, calls for defense acquisition 

reform will never cease, the sources of discontent naturally flowing from one 

set of stakeholders to another.2

From the perspective of the DOD, this paper will demonstrate that reform 

does not have to be sustainable for it to be meaningful, as long as it creates a 

window of opportunity that stakeholders can effectively exploit to achieve 

desired objectives. Therefore, when using the term “fix” in the acquisition 

system, it means creating a set of conditions that effectively and efficiently, 

albeit temporarily, align procurement efforts with long-term security interests of the nation, as opposed to maximizing gains for specific subgroups or 

stakeholders. Akin to an amphibious assault on a heavily defended beachhead, the forward momentum gained during such an effort is inherently unsustainable. Even if successful, both efforts are typically designed to secure an 

objective for a finite period (whether minutes, months, or years). This paper 

posits that such an opportunity existed between 1969 and 1972 when David 

Packard helped create much of modern-day acquisition policy and framework. This paper contends that the window of opportunity was exploited effectively by senior leadership within the Air Force and the OSD to give rise to 

fourth-generation platforms, the workhorses of modern airpower. Granted, 
xv

much of the policy gains made since those years have been lost, but the reforms initiated during these years offer valuable lessons for current and future 

acquisition leaders.

Table 2. Five Dimensions of Defense Acquisition

Target “Benefactor”

Initiator

OSD Services Industry Congress White House

OSD *Internal efforts 

to improve 

internal 

performance

*OSD initiated 

efforts to align 

better or 

improve OSDservice 

performance

*OSD initiated 

efforts to align 

better or 

improve OSDindustry 

performance

OSD initiated 

efforts to 

align better 

or improve

OSDCongress 

performance

OSD initiated 

efforts to align 

better or improve 

OSD-White 

House (WHO)

Performance

Services 

(Army, 

Navy, 

Air Force)

Service efforts 

to improve 

OSD-service 

performance

Internal efforts 

to improve 

internal 

performance

Service efforts 

to improve 

serviceindustry 

performance

Service 

efforts to 

improve

serviceCongress

performance

Service efforts to 

improve serviceWHO 

performance

Defense 

Industry

Industry 

initiated efforts 

to improve 

industry-OSD 

performance

Industry 

initiated efforts 

to improve 

industryservices 

performance

Internal efforts 

to improve 

internal 

performance

Industry 

initiated 

efforts to 

improve 

industryCongress 

performance

Industry initiated 

efforts to 

improve 

industry-WHO 

performance

Congress Congress or 

Senate initiated 

efforts to 

improve OSD 

performance

Congress or 

Senate initiated 

efforts to 

improve 

military 

performance

Congress or 

Senate initiated 

efforts to 

improve 

industry 

performance

Internal 

efforts to 

improve 

internal 

performance

Congress or 

Senate initiated 

efforts to 

improve White 

House 

performance

The 

White 

House

President 

initiated efforts 

to improve 

OSD 

performance

President 

initiated efforts 

to improve 

military 

performance

President 

initiated efforts 

to improve 

OSD 

performance

President 

initiated 

efforts to 

improve 

congressional 

performance

Internal efforts to 

improve internal 

performance

Table 2 illustrates the five dimensions of defense acquisition and defines the 

scope of the study at hand. This paper posits that the five dimensions of defense acquisition align with five basic types of stakeholders, who act rationally 

within the incentives and influences that exist within their respective spheres. 

The present research focuses primarily on the top row, efforts initiated by the 

OSD to improve its internal performance, its collective performance with the 

services, and its collective performance with the defense industry. Specifically, 

the paper will follow David Packard, co-founder of Hewlett-Packard Company, during his time as DEPSEC from January 1969 through December 1971, 
xvi

providing insight into both his informal efforts (speeches, visits overseas, and 

day-to-day battle-rhythm) and formal efforts (changes to policy, formal reorganization and reallocation of roles and responsibilities between OSD and the 

services, and impact on specific contracts). Embarking on the journey through 

the eyes of Packard, one of the founding fathers of Silicon Valley enables readers to understand how Packard’s ideas are embedded within current defense 

acquisition policy as well as how far it has unraveled from Packard’s initial intent. The defense acquisition system resides within a complex and conflicting 

web of politics, profit, and parochialism. Above all, Packard and his boss, SECDEF Melvin Laird reveal lessons on how to maneuver in this realm effectively.

There is not a better time to revive Packard’s legacy than now. Despite the 

fact that the world has changed over the last half-century, there are numerous 

historical parallels between the late 1960s and today. When David Packard 

arrived at the Pentagon from Silicon Valley in 1969, the DOD was worn down 

by in a protracted, unconventional war in Southeast Asia; a peer competitor 

had recently unveiled a new air superiority fighter, the MiG-25 Foxbat, and 

was in the midst of a significant modernization program across the board; 

and America’s defense procurement system was in gridlock, widely considered ineffective and nonresponsive to the needs of the war fighter. Given the 

resurgence of similar conditions today, David Packard’s legacy provides a 

guidebook for those who hope to swing the pendulum of DOD defense acquisition back in the right direction (to more effectively, efficiently, and expeditiously deliver materiel solutions to the war fighter). If the DOD ever desires 

a template to innovate and cost-effectively modernize the force, Laird and 

Packard can show us how.

Some stakeholders within the defense acquisition system tend to continue 

measuring the capabilities of the military in terms of historically essential 

platforms, such as fighters and bombers. However, the new reality is that the 

military will likely evolve its posture toward Multi-Domain Battle, a concept 

that allows a commander to achieve cross domain-effects. Therefore, while 

this paper focuses on a narrow chapter of airpower-centric acquisition history, the lessons learned can be applied across the procurement of systems 

that support a much broader range of war-fighting domains, whether ground, 

sea, air, space, and cyberspace. Packard’s approach to procurement, not the 

era or specific technologies developed, matters most.

Notes

1. Carl Von Clausewitz, On War, 79-81.

2. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 5.
1

Introduction

Lead times for change in military capabilities are long, while political 

objectives can change quickly. Most modern wars can only be fought 

with forces of size and type decided years in advance, when economic, 

political, and technological expectations may have been very different. 

Strategy or even policy then have to adjust to bring capability and 

objective into alignment.

-Richard K. Betts

On 31 July 2017, Air Force senior leaders unveiled a list of five priorities: 

Restore Readiness, Cost-Effectively Modernize, Drive Innovation, Develop Exceptional Leaders, and Strengthen our Alliances.

1

 In the late–1960s, the DOD 

faced almost identical challenges. At the end of the 1960s, the services were 

long overdue for total force modernization, a requirement neglected and 

stretched out by the drain of a protracted, asymmetric war in Southeast Asia. 

America’s peer competitor, the Soviet Union, unveiled five new aircraft and 

four significant revisions to existing aircraft two years earlier in 1967, while 

defense procurement initiatives at home to deliver next-generation platforms, 

the F-111, and C-5A, remained mired in cost and schedule overruns. Given 

the skyrocketing cost of new programs, a high rate of inflation, and ongoing 

reductions in defense budget outlays, modernizing the force was projected to 

result in substantial force cuts. NSSM-3, a study led by Packard during his 

first nine months on the job at the Pentagon, projected that given the costs of 

new programs the Air Force would lose one-third of its wings; the Navy would 

lose one-quarter of its attack carriers and one-fifth of its air wings, and the 

Marine Corps would need to reduce the number of aircraft within each wing 

by one-third.2

Because of rising per-unit costs, America would be unable to sustain its 

force structure. Shortly after that, President Nixon called on America’s allies 

to carry a more significant share of their defense burden and asked the DOD 

to reduce worldwide commitments from a two-and-a-half war to a one-anda-half war posture in what became known as Nixon Doctrine. In his first State 

of the Union address, Nixon announced:

The nations of each part of the world should assume the primary responsibility for their 

own well-being, and they themselves should determine the terms of that well-being. We 

shall be faithful to our treaty commitments, but we shall reduce our involvement and 

our presence in other nations’ affairs.3
2

The Nixon Doctrine relied heavily on modernizing strategic mobility capabilities, such as the C-141 and C-5A, as the smaller force would need to be more 

agile to respond to potential global events. Countering the Soviet build-up necessitated the development of new tactical air capabilities, especially restoring 

the ability to achieve air superiority against a peer competitor. Finally, the Nixon 

Doctrine incorporated an increase in military assistance to US allies.

Soon after his arrival to the Pentagon in January 1969, SECDEF Melvin 

Laird gave DEPSEC David Packard the challenge to reform the defense acquisition system and cost-effectively modernize the force. Packard, a Silicon Valley entrepreneur and co-founder of electronics firm giant HP reluctantly accepted the position. He initially thought it would take him two years to reform 

acquisition processes; however, it took him nearly three years. His experience 

came to reveal both the capabilities and limitations of the DEPSEC in exacting meaningful acquisition reform. During Packard’s tenure, he teamed with 

Laird to completely reverse course on former Secretary Robert McNamara’s 

Total Package Procurement (TPP) approach. TPP combined system development and the production of weapon systems into one contract.

Instead, Packard championed a sequential, incremental, “fly-before-youbuy” approach to defense procurement. He believed that prototyping and 

hardware demonstration provided the most effective path to mature technologies and lower risk before making a production decision. An ardent opponent of concurrency—which overlapped development and production— 

Packard wanted companies to prove the capability of their technologies and 

systems via hardware demonstrations rather than design studies and sales 

pitches. Packard’s approach in the Pentagon mirrored his methods at HP. HP 

made production decisions based not on analytical studies and designs on 

paper but instead on inventions and hardware components upon which he 

could feel and observe their performance and capabilities. In short, the “flybefore-you-buy” approach required “competing teams to demonstrate the superiority of their product, rather than the superiority of their salesmanship.”4

Although Packard’s approach worked in the private sector, there was not a 

guarantee that the same strategy would work in the Pentagon.

Packard enjoyed a synergistic relationship with Laird during his years in 

the Pentagon. Just as HP and “the HP Way” would have never come into existence without Bill Hewlett, the success or failure of Packard’s legacy in the 

Pentagon rested heavily on the empowerment, latitude, and authority provided by Mel Laird. This paper is titled: “The Laird-Packard (LP) Way–Unpacking Defense Acquisition Policy,” a testament to the significance and nature of the Laird-Packard relationship. Packard would likely have been unable 

to overcome the political and institutional barriers necessary to implement 
3

meaningful change without Laird’s steady hand of leadership and skills as a 

bureaucratic in-fighter.

The overarching goal of Packard’s reforms was to create a more responsive 

system that created additional production-ready options for future decision 

makers. In this sense, Packard was not as concerned with doing things “faster” 

or “more rapidly,” as he was with doing things “right.” Counterintuitively, this 

slowed acquisition efforts in the short run as his sequential approach to acquisition focused not on taking short-cuts but on making prudent, well-informed 

decisions and advancing technologies only when they demonstrated sufficient reliability, performance, and cost-certainty.

In contrast, former SECDEF Robert McNamara’s approach, TPP, eliminated competition much earlier in the acquisition process, limiting options 

while saddling the DOD with an incredible amount of risk by committing 

production contracts to designs that only existed on paper. In contrast, Packard’s approach provided the customer, the Pentagon, with increased flexibility 

and leverage through two key initiatives. First, he established a production 

decision point (i.e., “Milestone C” in current nomenclature), protected by a 

committee within OSD to ensure its integrity.5 Second, he increased the number of programs pushed into hardware development by putting his full weight 

behind advanced prototyping initiatives. In contemporary terms, Packard enabled more programs to proceed beyond “Milestone A.”6

 Packard referred to 

these milestones as “checkpoints.”7 In other words, the goal of Packard’s approach was to create more options for decision makers by sustaining competition as far into the acquisition cycle as possible. Packard made these moves 

amid declining defense budgets and, counterintuitively, saved money and ensured faster procurement despite fiscal constraints.

Maintaining competition through the developmental phases of a program 

created more options and leverage for senior leaders in the long run, more 

opportunities for defense contractors to sustain their design teams and prototyping capabilities, and led to more prudent usage of taxpayer dollars by increasing cost and performance certainty. Packard refused to buy into the notion that the DOD could not afford competition and refused to accept the 

notion that the military’s fate was to repeatedly become hostage to large, highrisk, developmental programs that depended on the simultaneous development of unproven avionics, airframes, and propulsion systems. He viewed 

creating airframes and propulsion systems as planting seeds for a tree, a longterm intensive effort that would require unique, large-scale tooling to create 

significant and highly-specialized components made from advanced materials. Meanwhile, as the head of an electronics firm, he clearly understood that 

the technologies underpinning avionics were moving at the speed of Moore’s 
4

law.8 Thus, Packard refused system architectures that irrevocably bundled the 

development of airframes, propulsion systems, and avionics together.

Closer analysis of Packard’s two-front campaign reveals how both mechanisms (protecting the integrity of the production decision and enabling competition) required a deliberate and concerted effort, driven from the top-down. 

A well-known example is the LWF Program, which resulted in the development of both the F-16 and F/A-18 and has been shared from the perspective of 

Colonel John Boyd.9 However, though Boyd’s role was important, Packard set 

the stage for success by backing a much broader prototyping initiative from his 

position as DEPSEC. As Robert Coram, the author of Boyd points out: “first 

there was Packard’s decision to start a prototype program. Without Packard’s 

decision, the LWF would have been stillborn.”10 The same can be said for the 

A-X program, a competition between the YA-9 and YA-10, which resulted in 

the production of the A-10, and the AMST Program, a competition between 

the YC-14 and YC-15, which led to the development of the C-17.

Given the broader context and scope of such prototyping initiatives, it becomes clear that Boyd’s efforts were part of a much larger movement envisioned and backed by top leadership within the Pentagon—a strategic effort 

to create more options for future decision makers. Packard’s advanced prototyping initiatives provided contractors increased flexibility and maneuverability and were designed to rapidly advance specific component technologies 

(discrete efforts focused on constituent systems: airframes, propulsion systems, flight control laws, etc.). Therefore, they were nimble programs that 

competed favorably against more extensive programs hamstrung by relatively 

fixed system architectures and other political constraints, such as complex 

and diffuse supply chains. In short, Packard did not fear disruptive technologies and paradigm shifts. Instead, he attempted to implement changes in the 

Pentagon designed to harness and exploit them just as he had done at HP.

Packard’s approach may have appeared incredibly risky in the eyes of skeptics, given the situation he faced. The drawdown of the Vietnam War had a 

significant impact on both the military and defense industries. In total, the 

fate of two million jobs across the DOD and defense industry hung in the 

balance. From 1969 to 1972, the DOD worked to reduce the number of uniformed personnel from 3.4 million to under 2.5 million and the number of 

DOD civilians from 1.2 million to 1.1 million.11 Between FY1969 and 

FY1971, the budget dropped nearly nine percent, and with factoring in inflation, the purchasing power of the defense budget was reduced by almost 16 

percent.12 The defense industry was hit particularly hard. According to the 

Department of Labor statistics, 3.4 million Americans held jobs generated by 
5

DOD spending at the beginning of 1970; Packard estimated 1 million defense contractor employees would need to find work elsewhere.13

During similar budget and personnel contractions at the end of the Cold 

War, SECDEF Les Aspin and DEPSEC William Perry took the opposite approach. Instead of developing a long-term strategy to keep defense industry 

design teams and highly-skilled labor intact, Aspin and Perry communicated 

to the defense industry that “half of the companies represented at the meeting 

would not exist in five years.” The event became known as Aspin’s Last Supper, 

driving a massive consolidation of the defense industrial base. Boeing, Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, General Dynamics, and Raytheon are the 

five US companies that survived.14

Conversely, in the late-1960s, Packard did the exact opposite, providing 

opportunities for as many companies as possible by offering numerous prototyping contracts without the promise of production, thereby maintaining 

competition within niche sectors of the industrial base. By providing highlyspecialized design and prototyping teams with opportunities to compete, defense companies not only had a chance to survive the downturn but also improve upon their technologies. Packard’s experience at HP during World War 

II and the Korean War taught him that defense budgets were cyclical and war 

almost inevitable. Therefore, he pursued a long-term approach that would 

preserve a level of competition within the defense industrial base and would 

offer more flexibility to decision makers as global security dynamics evolved 

in the future.

Packard established himself as a firm leader in the Pentagon who did not 

have any qualms about taking on defense conglomerates, politicians, and generals whose personal interests he deemed detrimental to the greater common 

good, undermined national security, or put soldiers on the frontlines at risk. 

When problems across many defense programs threatened to render Lockheed financially insolvent in 1970, Packard opposed a government bailout, 

illustrating the extent to which he played hardball with defense contractors. 

Packard’s decision to launch the A-X Program helped close a tenuous and 

protracted debate between the Air Force and Army about the CAS mission. It 

showed how little tolerance he had for service parochialism and interservice 

rivalry. Finally, Packard’s refusal to immediately disband the Office of Systems 

Analysis (OSA), McNamara’s infamous team of “whiz kids” who preferred a 

purely analytical approach rather than input from politicians and Pentagon 

top brass to determine future military force structure, illustrated his refusal to 

be pushed around by politicians.

Packard began to make his mark within his first year, exacting significant 

changes to Requests for Proposal (RFPs) going out the door in 1969 and 1970, 
6

notably for the F-15, Airborne Warning and Control System (AWACS), S-3, 

and B-1. He ensured that these contracts did not provide promises of production, instead he demanded that programs were sufficiently mature before allowing a move into production. Such characteristics may seem “commonsense” to the observer, but the incentives inherent within the defense 

acquisition system often drive premature commitments to production (reflected by high levels of concurrency in development) while allowing very few 

programs beyond advanced prototyping phases (beyond Milestone A and 

Milestone B). Packard identified three types of prototypes: advanced prototypes, production prototypes, and systems integration prototypes. Each phase 

of prototyping activity incurred a variety of associated but different risks. 

Therefore, Packard understood that success in one phase of prototyping did 

not ensure success in subsequent stages. Thus, maintaining competition as 

long as possible was essential to gain certainty in the overall cost and performance of a given weapon system. Taken as a whole, Packard’s legacy offers 

clues into how to create leverage for the services, how to incubate technologies and structure acquisition programs to survive austere budgets, how to 

provide future policy-makers with options to quickly and cost-effectively 

modernize the force, and most importantly, how to facilitate innovation 

within the constraints of a vast bureaucracy.

Packard played a significant role in the boom of platforms in the mid-tolate 1970s; his choices and actions reminded the Pentagon how it could generate a diverse ecosystem of options in the face of budget cuts. An analogy from 

Packard’s personal life illustrates his leadership approach. He enjoyed gardening and spent his Sundays in Washington DC tending to his backyard. According to his wife, Lucile Packard, “every chance he gets, Dave is out in the 

back planting bulbs – tulips, crocuses, daffodils, snowdrops, and hyacinths.”15

His efforts at the Pentagon can be likened to a gardener planting seeds in a 

greenhouse. While the prototyping efforts he backed would take years to incubate and grow before they were ready for harvest, those seeds eventually 

provided America’s top leaders with a much broader range of choices to modernize the force during the 1980s, at a critical juncture and turning point during the Cold War. The Reagan-era production boom was possible because of 

Packard’s initiatives a decade prior. In this gardening analogy, Packard planted 

the seeds by initiating prototyping efforts, Reagan harvested the crop by transitioning mature programs into full-rate production. The result was arguably 

the most bountiful crop in DOD history, one from which the DOD and its 

allies continue to reap benefits today.

The most critical seeds Packard planted were for long-lead systems: new 

airframes and propulsion systems. Many of the aircraft the DOD operates 
7

today can still be tied to Packard: his prototyping initiative resulted in the 

development of the A-10, F-16, F/A-18, and C-17; and elements of his “flybefore-you-buy” approach were implemented at the subsystem level to mitigate risk in the S-3A, B-1, F-15, and AWACS programs. The author of the 

original DOD Instruction 5000 series, the creator of the POM and the concept of a Milestone Decision Authority (MDA), Packard contributed to the 

establishment of many pieces of the underlying framework which comprises 

the modern acquisition system. As a result of his contributions, it is not a farstretched assertion to call Packard the father of fourth-generation airpower 

and one of the founding fathers of modern acquisition policy.

 Four fundamental tenets of Packard’s approach to defense acquisition 

emerge in this paper. First, Packard pushed the services to continuously develop new, mission-specific platforms, regardless of the status of the threat. 

Second, Packed crafted development contracts without the promise of a follow-on production contract. Third, Packard broke developmental contracts 

for aircraft programs into component subsystems (i.e., airframe contract, propulsion system contract, and avionics contract). Finally, Packard championed 

trade-offs, specifically providing flexibility between schedule and performance goals to achieve cost.

While this paper provides insight into several essential chapters of Packard’s time as DEPSEC, it is not exhaustive. Specifically, this paper does not 

include an in-depth analysis of Packard’s role in the Safeguard Program or the 

results of the Fitzhugh Report (Blue-Ribbon Committee chartered by President Nixon). Packard served as one of the primary spokesmen and advocates 

for the Safeguard Program in 1969; an effort focused on Antiballistic Missile 

(ABM) defense primarily to counter the rise of China’s nuclear capabilities. 

Although this work consumed a significant amount of Packard’s time and 

arguably provided President Nixon additional leverage during talks between 

the US and Soviet Union, this paper does not provide a detailed account of 

events that transpired because of the ABM Treaty of 1972 and subsequent 

funding cuts and eventual cancellation of the program. Concerning the 

Fitzhugh Report, the chronology of events indicates that Packard’s approach 

to defense acquisition evolved independently from the findings of the committee. Programs such as the S-3A and B-1 illustrate that Packard’s tenets, 

such as “fly-before-you-buy,” were implemented beginning in August 1969, 

well before the findings of the July 1970 Fitzhugh Report.

This paper also does not provide an in-depth analysis of the Lockheed 

Crisis in 1970 or the Packard Commission in 1985. The exclusion of the 

Lockheed Crisis and Packard Commission is regrettable, as both events are 
8

significant pieces of Packard’s legacy and further insight into his weapons 

buying strategies. However, they were beyond the scope of the study.

Although more thoroughly understanding the DOD weapons buying policy is at the heart of this study, this paper seeks to provide qualitative, rather 

than quantitative insights into the original rationale behind DOD’s current 

acquisition framework. Mechanisms within current requirements, resource, 

and program/contract management constructs, such as the POM and the 

concept of the MDA, are both cornerstones to the modern acquisition framework and part of Packard’s legacy. Studying the history of such mechanisms 

reminds acquisition professionals that the defense acquisition system is manmade, the barriers and constraints of its process tied to the interests and defended by its various and diverse stakeholders. Therefore, to understand the 

initial intent of policy and subsequent attempts at policy reform, it is beneficial to study both the life and experiences of individuals who have exacted 

successful reform and the broader context of the era in which they lived. In 

short, a policy is not formed in a vacuum; defense acquisition history is best 

served if it accounts for the broader context of world events.

Concerning acquisition policy, the reader should note that DOD Instruction 5000.02: “Operation of the Defense Acquisition System,” has grown significantly in recent years – tripling in length over the last 15 years, from 50 

pages in May 2003, to 80 pages in December 2008, to 154 pages in January 

2015.16 The supplementary guides that accompany the 5000 series policy, such 

as the Defense Acquisition Guidebook, are also growing in length, recently 

standing at 1,248 pages. Studying David Packard’s legacy steers the reader 

back to the core intent of his policy changes, the opportunity to understand 

the rationale behind the original, austere seven-page guidance (including enclosures) he issued on 13 July 1971.17 This approach entailed not simply dissecting and analyzing the policy itself, creating novel cost analysis methods to 

reframe cost overruns and schedule delays, or comparing the current policy 

to Packard’s original policy but instead making an effort to gain an in-depth 

and thorough understanding of Packard’s experiences while at the Pentagon. 

Fundamental to Laird and Packard’s approach was the principle of “placing 

more emphasis on people and less emphasis on elaborate procedures.”18

Concerning people, there is merit in studying the human aspects of defense 

acquisition; acquisition professionals are inherently analytical creatures. Jomini would be proud of the scientific approaches employed to analyze historical cost and schedule overruns. However, while DOD acquisition professionals 

may have become masters of earned value management, the critical path, and 

other increasingly complex parametric cost and schedule tools, it is essential 

not to lose sight of the Clausewitzian nature of the acquisition environment. 
9

The fog and friction of the acquisition provide insights into how human nature 

results in a significant number of political-military barriers, many selfimposed, that challenge the ability of the DOD to modernize and innovate 

cost-effectively. In combat, the enemy has a vote. In the defense acquisition 

system, the other stakeholders in the system have a vote. Thus, OSD and DOD 

acquisition strategy is best served if it anticipates that other stakeholders within 

the system that will inherently seek to serve the political, parochial, or profitdriven incentives inherent within their respective spheres. The LP Way offers 

insight for navigating this environment in a meaningful way.

Recent acquisition trends continue to drift from Packard’s original intent. 

In particular, the rapid consolidation of the defense industrial base after the 

Cold War and the failure by critical DOD and OSD leaders to counter the 

resurgence of sophisticated designs and concurrency in recent years. Calls to 

make acquisition more rapid and faster perpetuate the death spiral, trapping 

the war fighter in the current paradigm by failing to address the underlying 

causes which have caused the dearth of options available to decision makers. 

The lack of options today is the consequence of decisions made 15 or 20 years 

ago. As Packard’s legacy indicates, correcting the course of defense acquisition is not something to be achieved overnight through maxims espousing 

“rapid” or “fast” acquisition but instead a fundamentally sound approach that 

effectively counters Packard’s three problems: too complex, too much concurrency, and too much turnover. To Packard, the “three problems” were the 

“axis of evil” of defense acquisition programs. Much of what he did as DEPSEC was intended to counter them.

Many of the United States Air Force’s (USAF) top leaders are pilots, so the 

following analogy may also help frame how Packard approached the challenge before him. For Packard, taking a sequential, incremental approach and 

slowing down acquisition was analogous to a pilot pushing the stick forward 

to recover from a stall. While pushing the stick forward to recover from a stall 

may seem counterintuitive to someone who has never flown an aircraft, as 

pilot-in-command of the defense acquisition system, Packard knew precisely 

what he was doing. In pushing the stick forward in 1969, he knew he would 

lose altitude in the short run, but it was a move that would allow him to pick 

up airspeed and recover lift in the long run. Packard did not measure airspeed 

using knots; instead he measured the amount of competition within the system. The more competition with the system, the more options senior leaders 

had, and the more maneuverable and responsive the system became, just as 

HP had achieved in Silicon Valley. As Packard gained airspeed by 1971, he 

gradually lifted the nose of the defense acquisition system, trading airspeed 

for altitude and initiating a slow and steady 10 to 15-year climb, a climb for 
10

the ultimate prize: providing more production-ready options to future decision makers to modernize the force cost-effectively.

Over the years, Packard’s approach to acquisition has been oversimplified 

into a four-word maxim: “fly-before-you-buy.” However, “fly-before-youbuy” misses many vital characteristics of Packard’s original intent.

It misses the LP Way. What is the LP Way? The LP Way is a proven longterm approach to acquisition that delivers a diverse set of options for policymakers to modernize the force cost-effectively. The backbone of the LP Way 

is competition. The LP Way eschewed system architectures that contained immature or unproven technologies, recognizing that the development of a 

weapon system can only progress as fast as its most troubling part. Instead, 

the LP Way combated concurrency and premature commitment to production by unleashing a swarm of disconnected prototyping efforts; each competition tightly focused on the advancement of one particular system (a propulsion system, air vehicle, radar, and so forth). Systems were considered for 

aggregation into a weapon system only at the point where they demonstrated 

the sufficient maturity level to do so—that is the decision maker had confidence in its price and performance and a selection based on hardware demonstrations rather than brochures and salesmanship. As a result, the LP Way 

put the ball back into the hands of senior leaders within OSD and the services 

and gave them the altitude and airspeed they needed to maneuver as pilot and 

co-pilot of the defense acquisition system.

Organization of the Paper

For the most part, the sections that follow are constructed chronologically, 

focused primarily on David Packard’s time as the DEPSEC from January 1969 

to December 1971. Packard spent much of his first year in the Pentagon trying to figure out a way to play the hand he was dealt. He identified three problems with acquisition programs, Packard’s “axis of evil”: designs were too 

complex and ambitious, the military-industrial complex tolerated too much 

concurrency, and programs were poorly managed because of lack of the authority provided to the services and rapid turnover of uniformed program 

managers. Much of Packard’s time in the Pentagon was dedicated to solving 

these three problems of defense acquisition.

During his first year on the job, Packard made changes program by program. He deleted large sections of every RFP he reviewed, removing large 

amounts of requirements and specifications, challenging the Pentagon’s accepted way of doing business. Both at HP and the Pentagon, Packard sought 

to minimize time and resources allocated to paperwork and maximize the 
11

time and resources allocated to hardware development. In his second year on 

the job, Packard turned the corner, issuing The Packard Memo on 28 May 

1970, which contained initial guidance on his envisioned policy reform.19 The 

Packard Memo became codified on 13 July 1971 as DOD Directive 5000.1, 

Acquisition of Major Defense Systems during Packard’s third year on the job. 

Packard’s efforts culminated in his support of the advanced prototyping initiatives. The following table summarizes Packard’s approach to acquisition.

Table 3. Packard’s Principles of Defense Acquisition20

Regarding this paper, Packard’s lines of effort are divided into the following 

three categories:

1. Operational Design. Efforts to align procurement efforts with America’s strategic commitments and long-term interests

2. Rebuilding the OSD-Service Relationship. Reallocating the roles and 

responsibilities among the services and OSD to more effectively manage acquisition programs

3. Changing how the DOD buys its weapons. Finally, the translation of 

what was initially a program by program approach to acquisition reform into 

formalized guidance and then policy.

Packard’s Principles of Defense Acquisition

1. Help the services do a Better Job. “The services have the primary responsibility to get 

the job done.”

2. Have Good Program Managers with Authority and Responsibility. “.. . they must be 

kept in the job long enough to get something done.”

3. Control Cost by Trade-offs. “Make practical trade-offs between operating requirements and engineering design.”

4. Make the First Decision Right. “The initial decision to go ahead with full-scale development of a particular program is the most important decision of the program. If this 

decision is wrong, the program is doomed to failure... to make this decision correctly 

requires that the program be kept in advanced development long enough to resolve key 

technical uncertainties.”

5. “Fly-Before-You-Buy.” “Engineering development must be completed before substantial commitment to production is made.”

6. Put More Emphasis on Hardware; Less on Paper Studies. Premature implementation 

of logistic support, training, and maintenance matters tends to be wasteful

7. Eliminate TPP. “It is not possible to determine the production cost of a complex 

weapon system before it is developed.”

8. Use the Type of Contract Appropriate for the Job. Cost-incentive type contracts 

should be used for new major weapon systems. “(a) cost control . . . can be achieved by 

better management; (b) a prime objective of every development program must be to 

minimize the life-cycle cost, as well as the production cost of the article or system being 

developed; (c) price competition, is virtually meaningless in selecting a contractor for a 

cost-incentive program.”
12

This study consists of seven parts. Part I introduces the man, David Packard. Part II focuses on the situation, the broader context of global events in 

which he stepped into the Pentagon. The late 1960s represented the convergence of many factors, internal and external to the Pentagon. The purpose of 

Part I and Part II is to frame the conditions in which acquisition reform took 

place collectively. Understanding both Packard and the context of the era in 

which he served as DEPSEC provides a framework for thinking critically 

about what conditions may or may not be required for meaningful acquisition reform to take root and what kind of person might be best suited to lead 

such an effort.

Part III addresses Packard’s first line of effort: better aligning DOD procurement efforts with America’s strategic commitments and long-term interests. Packard understood that procuring weapon systems was not an end in 

itself but rather a small cog in the much larger national security machine. 

During his first nine months in office, Packard led a comprehensive study of 

national security strategy and its cost, examining alternative military strategies and the force structure and funds required to execute them, known as 

NSSM-3. NSSM-3 provided Packard the opportunity to travel to West Germany and Korea, where he gained insight into the capabilities and limitations 

of equipment operated by the US and its allies as well as points of concern on 

joint developmental programs, specifically the Main Battle Tank (MBT)-70. 

Although a failed program in the long run, Packard’s experience studying the 

MBT-70 significantly influenced his views moving forward. A key characteristic of Packard’s charter from Laird was that it focused him on the future—

beyond the Vietnam War—which in turn drove him to look for options to 

pursue an entirely new generation of airpower rather than incremental improvements to existing airframes.

Part IV addresses Packard’s second line of effort: the reallocation of the 

roles and responsibilities among OSD and the services. Packard made two 

pivotal changes during his first year at the Pentagon. First, he implemented a 

mechanism to centralize command and decentralize control of acquisition 

programs by establishing a committee within OSD in May 1969 with authority to make “go, no-go” decisions at crucial points in the development of a 

weapon system, known as the DSARC. DSARC was a concept inspired by Bill 

Hewlett at HP. Second, in October 1969, he established another mechanism 

to better integrate input from the services into the budget cycle, known as the 

POM, a concept inspired by Packard’s study of former Secretary James Forrestal. Simultaneously, throughout 1969, Laird and Packard had to decide on 

the path forward for the OSA, an office established by former Secretary Robert McNamara in 1961. Both the services and politicians demanded that Laird 
13

and Packard disband the office. Finally, a third critical cog of the acquisition 

machine fell into place in October 1969 when a committee within the National Security Council (NSC) was tasked to identify requirements and validate the needs of the war fighter.

Part V provides a closer look at Packard’s program by program approach to 

reform. Given Packard’s incremental, step-by-step approach to reform, it became evident that he did not have a clear vision for what the acquisition policy 

would look like when he stepped into the Pentagon but instead built a comprehensive picture as he gained experience. His ultimate goal was to provide policymakers with a more diverse ecosystem of options than he was provided in 

1969 to modernize the force cost-effectively. Given the context of the era, this 

required that Packard sustain a competitive industrial base and facilitate innovation amid a declining defense budget. Two case studies will be examined: 

The A-X Program and the B-1 program. Packard released the Packard Memo 

in the summer of 1970, circulated well in advance, and containing many of the 

same elements of the DOD Directive 5000.1 he issued in July 1971.

Part VI, “Packard’s Hail Mary–the Advanced Prototyping Initiatives,” addresses Packard’s final months in office during the fall of 1971. This extreme 

series of events revealed the limits of Packard in his attempt to launch a large 

number of advanced prototyping initiatives. His request for funding for 12 

prototyping efforts represented a high-stakes gamble with a significant probability of failure, similar to a Hail Mary pass thrown into the end zone at the 

end of a football game. Packard’s time in the Pentagon was running out as he 

would return to HP in Silicon Valley at the end of the year. In the end, Packard 

achieved only limited success with the initiative—like a football team that 

settles for a field goal instead of a touchdown. This section delves into an intense series of battles with Congress over a relatively small amount of funding. When the dust settled, only two of the 12 prototyping proposals received 

funding. The two approved competitions resulted in the rise of the F-16, F/A18, and C-17, illustrating the potential payoffs of such an approach.

The conclusion pulls forward Packard’s experiences to address contemporary acquisition challenges. In many senses, in 2018, the DOD finds itself in a 

situation mirroring many aspects of 1968. The conclusion attempts to answer 

two questions. Are there any relevant lessons learned from Packard’s experience that can be applied to the present context? And, Are there any implications of Packard’s legacy on the way ahead?
14

Part I: The Man

He’s given me many a lecture during my life on happiness not being the 

only end in life. You have to be doing something that gives you a sense 

of accomplishment . . . if you mean contented, no, he’s definitely not 

contented. He’d be a lot more so taking care of his cattle.

-Mrs. Lucile Packard 

(when asked if her husband was happy as DEPSEC)

In December 1968, a 57-year old Silicon Valley executive, David Packard, 

picked up the phone. He had never put on a uniform, never served day in the 

military, and never served a day in the government. Nevertheless, the SECDEF 

nominee, Melvin Laird, a congressman from Wisconsin and a man whom he 

met only once in his life almost 10 years earlier, wanted him to be his righthand man. Laird had heard good things about Packard and needed his help. 

David Packard had a reputation as an exceptional teammate, a visionary, an 

innovator, a hard-worker, and a leader. Thirty-one years earlier, he co-founded 

a company named HP in a one-car garage and built it into an international 

corporation of 13,000 employees. HP’s engine of innovation was its four research and development divisions, with unique identities and areas of expertise—much like the four services within the DOD—the R&D divisions were 

“the Army, Air Force, Navy, and Marines” of HP. Hewlett and Packard found 

a way to get the four divisions to innovate independently and relentlessly; by 

1969, the company’s product line was a diverse ecosystem boasting over 2,000 

products. In this sense, David Packard was not like a Steve Jobs or Henry 

Ford; he was not an “idea man.” Packard did not foresee the R&D divisions 

developing products, such as calculators and computers. Instead, Packard was 

a natural leader and a master of administration and business management. 

Hewlett and Packard focused on publishing broad corporate intent, giving 

each of the R&D divisions the authority to design and build prototypes by 

themselves. Bill Hewlett (and sometimes Packard) served as a MDA of sorts—

only one decision point merited their involvement—the decision at which 

prototypes moved from development into production. SECDEF Laird realized he would have his hands full with ongoing affairs, such as the Vietnam 

War, Strategic Arms Limitations Talks (SALT) with the Soviet Union, and 

Congress. He would lean on Packard to focus the Pentagon’s planning efforts 

beyond the war at hand, transplant the innovative spirit of Silicon Valley into 

the Pentagon, and write policy to provide the DOD with a path forward to 

modernize the force cost-effectively.21
15

Packard initially did not want the job. Leading innovation in a free-market 

economy was one thing, but leading innovation within the DOD was another 

animal entirely. Packard recognized the political and bureaucratic constraints 

of the position from the start: “You must realize that managing the DOD is 

not like running a business. It’s also a political job. You have to get funds from 

Congress. You must implement them the way Congress intends.”22 Reflecting 

on his decision to serve, Packard stated: “Our country has some very serious 

and very difficult problems to face over the next few years,” and “every citizen 

in this country has to step up and do what he can—he or she can—to help . . . 

the country has done many things for me. I thought it was about time that I 

had to do something in return for my country.”23 “It’s unusual and fortunate to 

have someone like Secretary Laird, who has broad political experience. This 

leaves me to the job I know best: administration.”24

Laird and Packard faced significant political constraints. It is unlikely that 

Packard would have accepted the job or been successful in his duty as DEPSEC 

if he did not have the opportunity to partner with a statesman as skilled and 

experienced as Mel Laird. The Battle of Salamis in 480BC, a decisive battle that 

shaped the future of European civilization, provides a timeless example of the 

political and paradoxical nature of defense acquisition within liberal democracies.25 Within liberal democracies, the weapons soldiers carry into battle determines the fate of nations, but the people allocate the resources needed to build 

specific weapons. Within this context, victory in Salamis depended both on 

battlefield skill and acquisition choices made years earlier.26 In a democracy 

where the legislature controls the budget, Themistocles, an Athenian general, 

waged a political battle for votes within the Athenian assembly to support 

building a large fleet of triremes. The struggle was fraught with fog, friction, 

and uncertainty, influenced by economic factors and job opportunities within 

specific constituencies as much as matters of national security.

The triremes vote in 483 BC foreshadowed the interaction of politics and 

acquisition in the United States. While Packard would be charged with writing 

acquisition policy during his time in the Pentagon, he had little political experience. As the CEO of HP, his role in the private sector was much more analogous to a benevolent dictator than a politician. However, in the Pentagon, 

while Packard oversaw much more money than he did at HP, that money belonged to the taxpayer. A Wall Street Journal article published in 1969 pointed 

out that “the track record of big business tycoons who take top Pentagon jobs 

is far from glorious,” listing the struggles of former Secretaries of Defense, including Charles Wilson (General Motors), Neil McElroy (Proctor and Gamble), and Robert McNamara (Ford).27 In short, Packard’s success in the Pentagon was not a foregone conclusion. His proposals needed to be politically 
16

viable and sustainable, offering opportunities to centers of influence within 

various constituencies and interest groups while at the same time not stoking 

fears within the power bases of established defense industry giants.

Packard recalled later that: “(Mel) was very familiar with the Congress and 

had many friends on the Hill. He knew all about congressional relations, and 

liked publicity and news conferences more than I.”28 In other words, Packard 

benefited from Laird’s areas of experience and competency as much as Laird 

benefited from Packard’s.

Mr. Inside: Packard’s Conflicts of Interest

The lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend 

himself from wolves. One must, therefore, be a fox to recognize traps, 

and a lion to frighten wolves.

- Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

Mel Laird did not have a close relationship with Packard before 1969. Before speaking over the phone with Packard in December 1968, Laird had met 

Packard only once. In 1959, Laird served on the Health, Education, and Welfare and Labor Subcommittee of the House Committee on Appropriations, 

which authorized overhead allowances on federal research contracts with 

universities. Packard served as president of Stanford University’s board of 

trustees, while Juan Trippe, president of Pan American Airways, headed the 

board of Yale University, and Neil McElroy, SECDEF during the Eisenhower 

administration, served as the president of Harvard University’s board. 

Trippe, McElroy, and Packard believed prestigious private universities, such 

as Stanford, Yale, and Harvard, should be considered “cowbell” universities, 

or “leaders of the pack,” and approached Congress for financial support in 

1959.29 Laird and John Fogarty (D-RI) met with Packard, and soon after, the 

committee approved Packard’s request to authorize a 15 percent allowance 

for these universities.30

Laird viewed Packard as a talented, experienced candidate for his DEPSEC 

position, someone with the executive and technical skills to oversee the defense budget and take charge of modernizing the force.31 When Laird reluctantly agreed to serve as Nixon’s SECDEF on 7 December 1968, he did so under the strict condition that Laird could assemble his team. Nixon promised 

not to interfere with any appointments, military, or civilian, as part of a famous 

“Napkin Deal” signed between Nixon and Laird on a plane en route to Washington, DC.32 Laird seized the opportunity and chose Packard as his DEPSEC.33
17

In December 1968, Laird called Packard, asking to put together a list of 

names from the business community who might be suitable candidates for his 

staff.34 On a hunting trip in Merced, California at the time, Packard recalled: 

“I sent him some names of people he could consider, and he called me back 

and asked me to meet him in Washington . . . after a few hours of discussion, 

he said he wanted me to join him as his deputy secretary.”35 Like Laird, Packard reluctantly considered the position. Packard did not seek the post of DEPSEC any more than Laird sought to become SECDEF.36 Packard did not initially give Laird a decision, asking for some time to think it over but eventually 

acquiesced. Packard recalled: “I returned to Palo Alto and spent a week or so 

considering this opportunity.”37

Some feared that hiring Packard to run defense procurement would not be 

any different than hiring a fox to guard the henhouse. HP itself was a defense 

contractor; thus, David Packard was “Mr. Inside,” confronted by many potential conflicts of interest. In January 1969, Packard owned more than $300 million ($2 billion in FY2017 dollars) in Hewlett-Packard stock. In 1968, HP 

made $34 million in direct sales to the DOD, $6.685 million to other federal 

agencies, and an estimated $60 million in sales to government prime contractors, representing 45 percent of HP’s domestic sales.38 In addition to his positions as chairman of the board, president, and chief executive officer for HP, 

Packard also served on the board of directors for a few other large defense 

contractors General Dynamics and US Steel.39 The Senate was particularly 

leery of Packard’s complex entanglements with the defense industry. Federal 

law only required that a public official disclose his interest in a firm or corporation with a government contract and promise not to participate in contract 

negotiations, but “the Senate Committee on Armed Services went further, 

requiring a nominee to sever associations with any corporation having a contract of $10,000 or more with DOD.”40

Laird and Packard did as much as possible to alleviate the media and public’s concerns about the conflict of interest problems, holding a joint press conference in Washington, DC on 30 December 1968. Packard voluntarily agreed 

to resign as chairman and CEO of HP and step down from the board of director positions with companies and organizations doing business with the DOD. 

He also agreed to liquidate his shares of stock in defense contractors, except for 

his $200 million in HP holdings. Selling 30 percent of HP’s outstanding shares 

would reduce the stock’s price and harm other shareholders. Laird persuaded 

Congress to grant the exception on the issue; as promised, Packard put all HP 

dividends and appreciation into charities while he was a public employee.41

Packard issued a written statement to the press, providing financial details. 

During the press conference, Packard, always candid and outspoken, admitted 
18

he did not know the salary for the position he just accepted. Laird estimated 

$30,000. “I am taking a helluva cut . . .” Packard joked, “let me just make one 

thing clear, and, again, I don’t want any misunderstandings about this. I will 

have some other income available. I don’t intend to live on $30,000.”42 Regarding the trust, Packard later recalled, “by the end of 1971, after three years in 

Washington, I handed in my resignation and returned to California. During 

that time, HP stock had increased in value, and I estimated that I’d given away 

about $20 million ($120 million in 2017 dollars).”43

The Education of David Packard: 1912-1938

Homemade Radios, Stanford, and Vacuum Tubes

Packard brought to the Pentagon credible experience in business management and defense technology as a man who built a multi-billion dollar business out of his garage.44 Packard’s technical expertise and hands-on experience 

gave him an in-depth understanding of the design, manufacture, and evolution of communications, radar, and other associated technologies between the 

1920s and 1960s. Fascinated with radios since his youth, Packard built his first 

radio while in elementary school, connecting a vacuum tube with a variable 

condenser, coil, a grid lead, an A battery, a B battery, and a set of headphones. 

At age 12, he put together a more sophisticated vacuum tube receiver and listened to broadcasts on 1040 WHO radio, Des Moines, Iowa, 600 miles away 

from his childhood home in Pueblo, Colorado.45 By high school, a proficient 

radio operator, Packard became secretary of the San Isabel Radio Club.46

Packard studied electrical engineering at Stanford, catching the eye of the 

legendary Fred Terman, a renowned and influential professor who eventually 

headed the Stanford Electrical Engineering Department.47 Terman mentored 

Packard, encouraging him to accept a job offer from General Electric (GE) in 

New York in 1934 and then opened up many doors for Packard to support the 

development of cutting-edge technologies upon his return to the Bay Area in 

1938. In particular, Terman got Packard involved in the development of the 

klystron tube, a game-changing vacuum tube that could operate at higher 

frequencies, the technology behind advances in early radar, television transmission, and particle accelerators.48 Packard also met Bill Hewlett at Stanford 

in the fall of 1930.

Packard’s initial work experience at GE in the 1930s left a considerable 

impression on him, providing insight into the challenges of manufacturing 

electronic components and the importance of networking, which shaped the 

way he later ran his own company. Job opportunities were scarce amid the 
19

Great Depression. In January 1935, Packard departed for a GE facility in 

Schenectady, New York, a small town about 170 miles North of New York 

City, while Bill Hewlett continued his graduate studies at Stanford and MIT. 

Thus, the duo put their future business venture plans on hiatus and parted 

paths. At GE, Packard worked in various test departments: testing refrigerators for leaks and other problems, radio transmitters for the US Army, and 

finally, vacuum tube engineering. Manufacturing vacuum tube components 

in the mid-1930s was a difficult task, giving Packard insight into the importance of excellent communication between the engineering department and 

the factory. After struggling to improve the manufacturing processes for 

failed batches of mercury-vapor rectifier tubes, Packard recalled: “[I learned 

that] personal communication was often necessary to backup written instructions. That was the genesis of what became “management by walking around.”49

Through one of his roommates and life-long friends, John Fluke, Packard also 

later met Hyman Rickover, a naval officer, in Washington. This relationship 

paid dividends when Packard later worked with Admiral Rickover, an outspoken and abrasive personality, in the Pentagon.

Packard returned to Palo Alto in 1938 wiser and with a network of connections on the East Coast. He quickly rekindled his relationship with Professor 

Terman who offered him his next big opportunity: the chance to work at Litton 

Engineering Laboratories testing a new generation of vacuum tubes— the 

klystron tube. In the summer of 1938, GE gave their blessing for Packard to 

resume his studies at Stanford. Professor Terman arranged for a Stanford fellowship and connected him with Russ Varian, the young inventor of the klystron tube. Varian’s idea was to modify a vacuum tube to operate at higher frequencies, a huge breakthrough that would facilitate the development of radars. 

The Varian research project opened several doors for Packard; he supported 

the project at Charlie Litton’s company, Litton Engineering Laboratories, in 

Redwood City, California. Charlie Litton’s hands-on style appealed to Packard, 

and as Litton’s company got into vacuum tube manufacturing, Packard jumped 

at the opportunity to apply lessons from his experience at GE to test Russ Varian’s new vacuum tube models. Packard’s experience with Varian would also 

influence his decision to buy Varian Associates’ waveguide technologies in the 

early 1950s. Packard’s experience at Litton was short-lived; however, and his 

last chance to gain experience working for someone else before jumping out on 

his venture of co-founding HP with Bill Hewlett in 1938 (at the age of 27) in a 

one-car garage, now marked as the birthplace of Silicon Valley.50
20

Building a Culture of Innovation: 

Hewlett-Packard (HP), 1938-1969

From Garage to International Corporation

World War II impacted HP before the United States even got involved. In 

the spring of 1941, the US Army called Bill Hewlett to active duty, where he 

spent the duration of the war as an officer in the Army Signal Corps. Although HP never relied entirely on defense contracts, HP proliferated contracts during the war, starting with 10 employees in 1940 to a total of 200 by 

the end of the war. HP’s defense contracts during World War II included producing a servo system to control antenna dishes for the US Navy, designing 

microwave signal generators, and producing a device developed by the Naval 

Research Laboratory that could jam an enemy’s shipboard radar (code-named 

the Leopard project). HP left the war determined to get into the forefront of 

the microwave instrumentation business, “a move that paid handsome dividends for the company after the war.”51 Other products HP developed included wave analyzers, distortion analyzers, vacuum tube voltmeters, and 

instruments designed to measure and test electronic equipment. Hewlett did 

not return to Palo Alto until the end of 1945, but his time as a Signal Corps 

officer gave HP insight into many scientific and engineering projects. After 

World War II, HP continued to push microwave related technologies, acquiring Varian Associates in the 1950s and integrating their waveguide business 

into HP microwave operations.

Packard’s business experiences in West Germany and Japan in the 1950s 

and 1960s shaped his understanding of the manufacturing and production 

capability of allied nations. This experience would come in handy as Nixon 

cut the defense budget, reduced global defense commitments, and shifted the 

defense burden to US allies (in both materiel and personnel). From Packard’s 

perspective, the 1950s marked a period of rapid growth for HP, in part because of the Korean War but also because of the Treaty of Rome in 1957. This 

treaty helped pave the way for HP in developing foreign markets for HP products. The Treaty of Rome established the European Economic Community, a 

predecessor to the European Union.52 After the signing of the treaty, HP set 

up its European headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland, and a small 

instrumentation-assembly plant in the town of Böblingen, near Stuttgart, 

West Germany.53

HP also expanded into Asia, forming a joint venture with a company in 

Japan in 1963.54 While establishing duplicate manufacturing and assembly capabilities could be perceived as barriers to efficiency, HP saw the benefits of 
21

multiple assembly lines in facilitating internal competition and as a mechanism to drive efficiencies and improve product quality in the long run. HP’s 

first few years in Japan were not promising, as Yokogawa-Hewlett-Packard 

(YHP) performance was mediocre; Packard later recalled: “It was neither at 

the top nor the bottom in product-failure rates or warranty costs.”55 However, 

as HP allowed Japanese management to take over, product quality skyrocketed. HP’s best failure rates on printed circuit boards were about four in 1,000 

(or a little less than 0.5 percent). However, YHP’s failure rate on its printed 

circuit boards was only 10 per million, or “four hundred times better than 

anything we had been able to do.”56 From a business perspective, these international experiences shaped Packard’s understanding of the economic potential and manufacturing quality that could be expected in foreign countries. 

From a defense perspective, these experiences enabled Packard to foresee 

how Nixon’s policies could be translated into action.

During his first year as DEPSEC, two of Packard’s three international trips 

took him to familiar territory; first, to Wiesbaden, West Germany in April, 

and then to Japan and Korea in June 1969. The German and Japanese economies boomed after World War II, and his international experiences while at 

HP likely provided him a mental framework to assess the efficacy of cooperative armament efforts with West Germany. For example, the GermanAmerican Main Battle Tank (MBT-70) project, and the feasibility of producing M-16 rifles in Korea.

Management by Objective: The HP Way

How Packard Learned to Lead Large Organizations

The potential of troops skillfully commanded in battle may be compared 

to that of round boulders which roll down from mountain heights.

-Sun Tzu, The Art of War

The 1960s marked a period of tremendous growth for HP. By 1969, HP was 

“an international organization with 17 manufacturing plants, more than 

13,000 employees . . . the company and its subsidiaries produce more than 

2,000 different test instruments and accessory devices.”57 By comparison, HP 

sold 380 distinct products in 1959.58 In the 1950s and 1960s, HP executives 

honed and scaled their leadership approach to meet the demands of a large 

organization, as neither Hewlett nor Packard could be involved in every decision. The growth from 380 to over 2000 products in a decade indicated HP’s 
22

decentralized approach to product development and that innovation could be 

scaled, offering potential benefits to the DOD’s procurement process. “In our 

company, we operated with some fairly independent divisions, not unlike the 

Army, Navy, and Air Force. They were competitive; sometimes, it was difficult 

to get them to put the welfare of the parent company first.”59 Similar to how 

the DOD was comprised of three departments (the Army, Navy, and Air 

Force), HP divided its product development activities into four divisions. In 

the 1960s, HP was structured into four divisions: first, frequency counters 

and related instruments; second, microwave equipment; third, audio and 

video products; and finally, oscilloscopes. Each division was held responsible 

for its own family of products, headed by a manager reporting to the vice 

president of R&D. The divisions independently and autonomously developed 

a diverse set of products, from quartz thermometers that could measure temperature with a resolution of 0.0001 degrees Celsius to laser interferometers 

that could take measurements accurate to a millionth of an inch, to lightemitting diodes.60 Trends across the divisions of HP kept Packard abreast of 

the latest technologies and perhaps more significantly helped him gain an 

appreciation for the pace at which technology was advancing. The miniaturization and automation of an increasing number of processes had many potential applications—both in the commercial market and on the battlefield.

To capitalize on the rapidly changing nature of these advances, Hewlett 

and Packard devised a management strategy designed to “unleash” rather 

than “control” the HP divisions. Technology was evolving so quickly that 

Packard failed to predict the significance and potential implications of several 

trends himself. This likely influenced his desire to embrace a decentralized 

approach to management at HP. Packard failed to foresee the significance of 

the both the handheld calculator and personal computer. In the early 1960s, 

Packard recalled: “I didn’t think HP should get into the calculator business.”61

Concerning computers, Packard admitted: “It would be nice to claim that we 

foresaw the profound effect of computers on our business and that we prepared ourselves to take early advantage of the computer age. Unfortunately, 

the record does not justify such pride.”62 While these oversights may have left 

similar companies in a vulnerable position, HP’s decentralized approach to 

product development enabled the company to not only maintain pace with 

the dynamic evolution of computing technologies but also to become a market leader. By September 1964, HP developed its first minicomputer—the 

Model 2116—an automatic controller for measurement systems. Later HP 

developed calculators, first the Model 9100 desktop calculator and then the 

HP 35, the world’s first pocket-sized calculator.63 The miniaturization of the 

Model 9100 into the HP 35 marked a massive shift in electronics, as printed 
23

circuit boards gave way to large-scale integrated circuits with more memory 

and more powerful integrated circuit processors.64 The rapid pace of advancements within electronics and computing likely helped Packard, as DEPSEC, 

understand the need to break the development of the airframe, engine, and 

avionics into separate blocks. If concurrently developed, the avionics would 

become obsolete by the time the airframe and engines reached maturity.

Moreover, Packard also came to the Pentagon understanding the importance of facilitating a maverick spirit within his subordinates. Not only did 

Packard decentralize authority and decision-making within HP, but also he 

allowed dissent and sometimes rewarded it. Two noteworthy examples of 

Packard’s tolerance for mavericks within HP included Cupertino’s Omega 

project and Chuck House’s Oscilloscope Display Monitor project. Omega was 

HP’s late 1960s quest to develop the world’s first 32-bit computer. The project 

was expensive and risky and threatened to put HP into direct competition 

with IBM’s mainframe business. Omega required significant funds, and Bill 

Hewlett advised against the program: “Don’t try to take a fortified hill, especially if the Army on top is bigger than your own.” Therefore, Omega was 

canceled. However, several HP employees rebelled, and kept the project alive 

and hidden in a back room. They kept working on it. Later, management reexamined the project and concluded that the computer architecture had 

promise and could be scaled down into a sophisticated, low-cost, 16-bit machine for processing small to medium-sized online business transactions. Introduced in 1972, the HP 3000 became a hugely successful product line.65

Similarly, HP management tried to abandon the efforts of an engineer 

working to develop oscilloscope display technology. Instead, the engineer, 

Chuck House, took his vacation time to interact with potential customers and 

continued with the project. Management reviewed the project, rushed the 

monitor into production, and sold more than 17,000 units. This included a 

unit purchased by NASA that showed man’s first step on the moon in July 

1969.66 Years later, Packard presented Chuck with a Medal of Defiance, celebrating his “extraordinary contempt and defiance beyond the normal call of 

engineering duty.”67

Packard’s tolerance for countering opinion extended beyond his generation. One writer noted: “Although he is 57, Packard gets along well with young 

people.” According to one anecdote, Packard once hired a radical college 

newspaper editor and told him to look around and find what was wrong about 

HP. The young man reported that a front receptionist was discouraging 

African-American job applicants by ignoring them; Packard promptly had 

her transferred.68
24

In sum, by the time Packard arrived at the Pentagon, Hewlett and Packard 

had created a self-sustaining, bottom-up process that facilitated innovation 

within HP and enabled the company to drive technology instead of reacting to 

disruptive technologies. In his memoir, Packard opined on the degree of autonomy and independence exercised by HP’s divisions: “It has been my experience that most business executives are quick to praise the concept of decentralization. However, when it comes to their organization, many are reluctant to 

adopt it. Perhaps the idea of turning over a portion of their authority to others 

is too unsettling.”69 Packard’s leadership philosophy, “Management by Objective (MBO),” illustrated the role of the individual leader in facilitating decentralization in management across a large organization. Packard explained:

MBO is the antithesis of management of control. The latter refers to a tightly controlled 

system of management . . . where people are assigned—and expected to do—specific jobs, 

precisely as they are told and without the need to know much about the overall objectives 

of the organization. MBO, on the other hand, refers to a system in which overall objectives are clearly stated and agreed upon, and which gives people the flexibility to work 

toward those goals in ways they determine best for their own areas of responsibility.70

At the individual level, Packard noted:

I have noticed when we promote people from a routine job to a supervisory position, 

there is a tremendous likelihood that these people will get carried away by authority. 

They figure that all they have to do now is tell everyone else what to do and quite often 

this attitude causes trouble. We must realize that supervision is not a job of giving orders; it is a job of providing the opportunity for people to use their capabilities efficiently 

and effectively. 71

The opportunity for Packard to test the boundaries of MBO would come at 

the Pentagon; “unleashing” the services and defense industry would be easier 

said than done and would take Packard nearly three years to achieve—with 

mixed results.

Throughout his time at the Pentagon, Packard’s heart stayed in California. 

In California, he lived on a secluded 50 acres of apricot trees and owned two 

ranches, which together covered 42,600 acres, enough land to cover the Pentagon and all its associated land nearly 200 times over.72 In Washington, Packard 

bought a $300,000 sprawling California-style home near American University, 

but Mrs. Lucile Packard never acclimated well to life inside the Beltway. 73

Packard often joked: “(Mrs. Packard) gets up in the morning and reads the 

Washington Post and that spoils her breakfast. She sees me on early morning 

TV and that spoils her lunch. I come home and tell her my problems, and that 

spoils her dinner. So she lost 20 pounds in the first month we were here.”74

As Packard departed Silicon Valley for the Pentagon in January 1969, the 

13,000 employees of the company he led likely seemed small compared to the 
25

4,850,000 uniformed and civilian personnel that served the United States in 

1968; for every one HP employee stood 373 defense personnel.75 Also, the 

scale of the defense budget was daunting. For every $1 in HP sales in 1968, the 

DOD spent $267, nearly $75 billion, $30 billion of it on RDT&E and procurement.76 Thus, while Packard won accolades with his leadership at HP, the sixfoot four-inch, 250-pound former college football player faced a daunting 

challenge as he embarked on a new chapter of his life.77 However, while few 

could argue his qualifications, Packard had a long way to go before he could 

prove he was the right man for the job.

Part II: The Situation

The Late-1960s: Uncertain Times

This great nation of ours was indeed in a great state of shock . . . when I 

came to Washington. There was rioting and burning in the streets. 

Inflation was rampant and had already eaten away at the economic 

progress of the previous decades. We had 540,000 men and women in 

Vietnam, and no plan to bring them home . . . now that I have the 

opportunity to reflect . . . it has become evident to me there is nothing 

so unusual about this period if it is viewed in the long course of history.

-David Packard

March 1972

Mel Laird and David Packard stepped into the Pentagon during an era of 

volatility, uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity. The 1968 presidential campaign came during a year of international tension and civil unrest. At home, 

the Civil Rights Movement reached an uncertain climax as riots erupted after 

the 4 April assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in Memphis, Tennessee. Two months later, in Los Angeles, Democratic presidential candidate 

Robert Kennedy was assassinated on 5 June. In the previous year, the 1967 

Arab-Israeli War highlighted the potential for conflict in the oil-rich Middle 

East. Abroad, Soviet tanks rolled into Czechoslovakia in August 1968, putting 

Western Europe on edge, while North Korea’s capture of the USS Pueblo in 

January 1968 raised tension in Northeast Asia. Meanwhile, there was not an 

end in sight for the Vietnam War.78

Although Nixon’s predecessor, Lyndon Johnson, assured his inner circle, “I 

am not going to be the first president to lose a war,” his administration struggled to craft a clear plan to win it.79 In August 1967 and early in 1968, Johnson’s 
26

desire to end the war in Vietnam as well as his bid for a second term were 

dealt a pair of significant blows: highly publicized hearings organized by Senator John C. Stennis (D-MS), which highlighted the tension between the 

White House and the Pentagon over the Vietnam War, and the Tet Offensive, 

which illustrated the failures of US military strategy in Vietnam. In the aftermath of these events, Johnson announced he would not run for reelection on 

31 March 1968.80 Someone else would have to figure a way out of the war.

Upon entering office in January 1969, Nixon embarked on a complex and 

ambitious strategy to disentangle the nation from the unpopular war while simultaneously cutting the defense budget and rebuilding the US military to 

counter the growing Soviet threat. Without a clear exit strategy for the war in 

Southeast Asia, the tense events in the Middle East, Northeast Asia, and Eastern 

Europe created the possibility of potential entanglements in multiple corners of 

the world. This forced Nixon to take a hard look at US foreign policy. Solidifying in 1969, the Nixon Doctrine sought to shift the burden of some of the costs 

of defending America’s allies to the allies themselves. The approach involved 

scaling down from a two and one-half war to a one and one-half war posture; 

America could not afford to be in the middle of every fight any longer.81

Nixon promised to end Vietnam with “Peace with Honor” on the campaign trail, and leaned heavily on his national security advisor, Henry Kissinger, and his SECDEF, Melvin Laird, to help achieve that vision once in office. Melvin Laird, a 16-year congressman, faced three immediate challenges 

as he took office as SECDEF.82 First, he needed to overcome the palpable tension between top civilian and military leadership, highlighted by the August 

1967 Stennis hearings. Second, he needed to address the shortfalls in Vietnam; failures in military strategy became painfully clear in January 1968 as 

the North Vietnamese launched the Tet Offensive across most of South Vietnam.83 Third, Laird needed to modernize the force to counter the Soviet 

Union’s ongoing military build-up. The Soviets unveiled five new aircraft and 

four significant revisions to existing aircraft at the Domodedovo Air Show in 

July 1967, while defense procurement initiatives launched under McNamara, 

such as the C-5 and F-111, remained mired in cost and schedule problems.84

Less than a decade earlier, Nixon was vice president when President Eisenhower decried the establishment of a permanent US “military-industrialcomplex.” Now, as president, Nixon needed to demonstrate the complex was 

capable of producing results.

Laird found himself in an unexpected position. As a congressman, he 

had been an outspoken member of the House Appropriations Committee 

and a frequent critic of defense management during the McNamara era. 

Now, as SECDEF, Laird found himself on the hot seat he often criticized.85
27

From the outset, Mel Laird believed that David Packard was a man capable 

of co-captaining the journey and explicitly taking charge of failing force 

modernization efforts.

Challenge Accepted: Overcoming Civil-Military Tension

As Laird and Packard settled into the Pentagon, the new defense leadership 

faced challenges listed above: overcoming civil-military tension, addressing 

the shortfalls of US military strategy, finding an exit strategy for Vietnam, and 

modernizing the force. Concerning civil-military tension, Packard was well 

aware of the disagreement between the White House and the Pentagon over 

the early conduct of the Vietnam War, writing in his memoir: “I knew that 

Robert McNamara—secretary of defense during the Kennedy and Johnson 

years—had alienated the professional military people in the department. 

There were many stories of McNamara’s clashes with the brass.”86 The hearings 

held by Senator Stennis in August 1967 illustrated the extent of the division, 

as relations between top civilian and military officials reached an impasse.87

The hearings lasted nine days, pitting 10 high-ranking military officials 

against McNamara. Testimony showed that the Pentagon wanted to expand 

the war to expedite a peace agreement, but McNamara did not believe Vietnam was winnable.88 Stennis sought to use the testimony of the generals as a 

means to provide the military with more latitude to prosecute the war.

The Pentagon’s disdain for McNamara trumped traditional interservice 

rivalries. The top leaders from the services: Air Force Gen John P. McConnell, Army Gen Earle Wheeler, and Adm U. S. Grant Sharp banded together 

and launched a high-pressure verbal offensive against the failing strategies of 

their commander-in-chief and SECDEF. The military demanded an expansion of the war and a reduction in political controls on target lists. McNamara responded in his 25 August testimony, rebutting the Pentagon’s claims 

one-by-one and warning that an expanded war: “Would not only be futile 

but would involve risks to our personnel and to our nation that I am unable 

to recommend.”89 The Senate Investigating Subcommittee of the Senate 

Armed Services Committee sided with the military and criticized McNamara’s policy of gradualism, urging the president to aggressively unleash the 

US military to expedite a peace agreement with the North Vietnamese. Johnson’s restraint of military power was intended to prevent Soviet or Chinese 

intervention; however, from the Pentagon’s perspective, the White House’s 

limitations hampered the ability of the US military to apply decisive military 

power to achieve desired objectives and effectively pressure the North Vietnamese into a peace agreement.
28

President Johnson attempted to reconcile the tension between McNamara 

and the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) through a series of strategic compromises. 

He approved bombing targets around Hanoi and Haiphong but rejected mining Haiphong harbor. He provided 55,000 additional troops to General William Westmoreland but not the 200,000 the Pentagon requested.90 In essence, 

the Stennis hearings aimed to provide the Pentagon opportunity to more effectively wage war but only partially succeeded; they failed to address the root 

causes of disagreement between the White House and Pentagon.

The unresolved tension confronted the LP team with a problem they would 

try to solve together. According to Packard: “There are strong diverse forces 

in and around the DOD. It is hard to work to keep them headed in a common 

direction in times of peace. When Secretary Laird and I took on this job in 

1969, that was our most important goal.”91 Laird advocated “participatory 

management,” where he got information by talking to people rather than 

reading and refused to micromanage. In his first six months in office, Laird 

attempted for forge a closer working relationship between the JCS and OSD: 

“I have been consulting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Chairman of the 

Joint Chiefs of Staff on a closer basis than has been the practice, and I think 

this is important.” Early in his tenure, Laird reported that he attended two 

meetings of the Joint Chiefs each week and had taken each of the chiefs, individually, to at least one National Security Council meeting.”92 Packard also 

made a concerted effort to improve relations between OSD and the services. 

To tear down the divides and mistrust, Packard invited the JCS on a deer hunt 

in 1969. Packard tried to convince the JCS: “I wanted to work with them and 

that I needed their help.”93

Challenge Accepted: The Failing Military Strategy in Vietnam

...the military does not deserve criticism for the policy—it was dictated 

and completed directed from the very beginning by the civilians . . . the 

officers and other servicemen and women . . . simply did what they were 

asked to do. They were asked to do an almost impossible job, and they 

did it well.

-David Packard

A second significant dilemma that the Nixon administration confronted 

upon arrival was the failing US military strategy in Vietnam. 94 On 30 January 1968, the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong launched the first phase of 

their Tet Offensive. Ho Chi Minh and leaders in Hanoi used the Tet holiday 
29

to provide cover for a significant movement of South Vietnamese National 

Liberation Front (NLF) forces who supported the Communist forces. NLF 

forces simultaneously attacked several populated areas and US military outposts. The NLF even breached the outer walls of the US Embassy in Saigon, 

showing that the enemy was much stronger than the Johnson Administration 

had claimed.95 The Tet Offensive revealed the utter failure of the Rolling 

Thunder strategic bombing campaign to blunt the ability of the North Vietnamese to move war-fighting materiel into South Vietnam.96 On 31 March 

1968, the same day Johnson abandoned his hopes for reelection, he also abandoned the bombing campaign, announcing he would cease bombing in the 

North except in direct tactical support of United States and South Vietnamese 

troops positioned along the 17th parallel.97 Johnson recalled: “my biggest 

worry was not Vietnam itself; it was the divisiveness and pessimism at home.”98

The Nixon administration sought to reverse the war’s course. In a television address on 3 November 1969, Nixon laid out a plan to end the war 

through diplomatic negotiation and Vietnamization, the gradual transition of 

military responsibility to the South Vietnamese, calling on the support of the 

“great silent majority” of Americans.99 As the Nixon administration sought to 

gain such political support, the DOD sought to build a clear and effective plan 

moving forward in Vietnam.

Although Laird rarely involved Packard directly in the prosecution of the 

war, Packard faced the challenge of aggressively reforming defense procurement processes during a challenging and complex chapter in American history. Achieving reform required Packard to unify stakeholders within the 

military-industrial-complex, shifting the focus of politicians and the defense 

industry away from Vietnam and back toward the Soviet threat. The Nixon 

Doctrine and Vietnamization entailed reducing worldwide commitments 

from a two-and-a-half front to a one-and-a-half front posture, a strategy relying heavily on providing materiel, arms, and equipment to US allies. Foreign military sales would boom under Nixon, and Packard was at the heart 

of these efforts.

Packard’s rhetoric already deflected the narrative away from Vietnam early 

in his tenure. He explained to reporters that the balance of power between the 

United States and Russia as the “nation’s most important strategic problem” 

and “the overriding consideration is to avoid a nuclear confrontation. If we 

get in a nuclear war, nothing else will matter.” However, this meant that the 

US would need to prioritize funding for weapons research; “when solutions 

are found,” Packard explained: “we want to be sure we are the ones that find 

them rather than the Russians.”100
30

Challenge Accepted: The Need for Acquisition Reform

The Soviet Air Show at Domodedovo Airport on 9 July 1967 was a Sputniklike shock for Western militaries. The Soviet Union unveiled five new aircraft 

and four significant upgrades to aircraft already in their inventory.101 The US 

air attaché departed as soon as possible from Moscow, arriving at Dulles International Airport late in the evening on 9 July with rolls of undeveloped 

film in hand. After developing the film and analyzing the photos, the Defense 

Intelligence Agency sent a high priority message to NATO, listing the new 

and modified aircraft, notably a sizable twin-engine fighter, the MikoyanGurevich (MiG)-25 Foxbat.102 The Foxbat had a range of 1,610 miles, a service 

ceiling of 80,000ft, and could reach Mach 2.8.103 Also, the Soviets unveiled the 

MiG-23 Flogger, a single-seat, air combat fighter with a range of 1,200 miles 

and a service ceiling of 61,000ft. It was armed with a twin-barrel 23mm GSh23 cannon and four air-to-air missiles and powered by a single Tumansky 

R-29 afterburning turbojet with a Mach 2.2 capability.104 Meanwhile, the 

MiG-21 Fishbed series of fighters entered their third stage of development.105

The implication to the Pentagon was clear: it needed to modernize.

Meanwhile, the United States floundered in several well-publicized procurement fiascos, notably the General Dynamics F-111 fighter-bomber and 

the Lockheed C-5A cargo transport programs.106 After three of the six aircraft 

were lost between March and April 1968 during their operational debut in 

Vietnam, the DOD pulled F-111s from Vietnam altogether.107 A myriad of 

developmental issues, including structural problems with the sweep-through 

wing-box, advanced avionics, and engine-inlet compatibility issues plagued 

the program. Concurrency in the F-111 program proved costly and timeconsuming. The Air Force accepted production F-111As while testing was 

ongoing; five in 1967; 36 in 1968; and 86 in 1969.108 On 22 December 1969, 

the Air Force grounded the fleet for over seven months when they lost their 

fifteenth F-111A to structural issues.109 Three hundred and forty F-111’s were 

recalled for structural inspection and proof testing between April 1970 and 

December 1971, a $31.2 million effort known as the Recovery Program.110

Post-delivery modifications added about $800,000 to the cost of each unit.111

A second attempt to deploy the F-111 to Vietnam in September 1972 was 

equally problematic. None of the six aircraft reached their primary target on 

their first assigned strike mission. Three of the six aircraft ground-aborted the 

mission with equipment failure. The fourth aircraft aborted in the air after 

Electronic Countermeasure (ECM) equipment failed. The fifth aircraft never 

returned from the mission. The sixth aircraft failed to get to its primary target 

and bombed an alternate target.112 Secretary of the Air Force Robert Seamans 
31

recalled: “In order to provide all-weather capability, the F-111Ds were provided a television-like monitor, which blended radar signals with prestored 

mapping information . . . the Air Force had [accepted] 96 F-111Ds ready to fly 

except for this missing equipment.”113 For the Air Force, the unit cost of each 

F-111A reached $11.8 million (more than double its original per-unit estimate of $4.5 million). 114 In the end, the cost of the F-111 program reached 

almost $5.5 billion for 541 F-111s (excluding 23 test aircraft), exceeding original estimates by about $3.2 billion.115 Secretary McNamara originally championed the joint program, centered on commonality, because a conventional 

aircraft would intuitively cost less.116

Six months before Laird and Packard arrived at the Pentagon, the C-5A 

program completed its first flight in June 1968. Similar to the F-111 program, 

the concurrent approach to acquisition on the C-5A program meant that the 

test and evaluation of the aircraft, from October 1965 through November 

1973, would deliberately overlap with production, scheduled August 1966 

through January 1973. At the height of production, two C-5As were delivered 

per month.117 The C-5A program suffered from structural issues in the inner, 

mid, and outer wing boxes limiting the fleet to 80 percent of design air-load 

limits.118 Problems ultimately necessitated a complete redesign of the wings 

and an extensive wing modification program, replacing the wing boxes tipto-tip between 1982 and 1987.119 Structural issues were identified very early in 

the program. By mid-1966, Lockheed reported that changes to the aerodynamic details of the wing, fuselage, and empennage required the addition of 

14,000 pounds to the weight of the empty airplane. However, because of a 

contract that included an operational weight empty guarantee, the Air Force 

refused Lockheed’s requests to exceed the weight.120 Packard recalled: “the 

C-5A was a large transport plan whose specifications could have been relaxed 

in a number of places without seriously reducing its capability.”121 Because of 

these issues, cost overruns plagued the C-5A program from the start: original 

estimates (between $1.71 and $1.86 billion) rose to an actual cost of $3.5 billion.122 On 15 November 1969, the USAF reduced the second production run 

aircraft from 57 to 23, reducing the total number of planes being purchases 

from 115 to 81.123

Granted, high inflation through the late-1960s and early-1970s also adversely affected the two programs. In August 1969, Fortune magazine estimated that inflation alone accounted for $627 million of the C-5A’s reported 

$1.3 billion overrun.124 Furthermore, the ongoing war in Vietnam stressed 

supply chains and exacerbated the backlog of aircraft orders across the industry.125 The point of contention with the F-111 and C-5A programs was 

not their long-term operational track record but rather their method of 
32

procurement. Concurrency created a bind for senior leaders, a situation 

whereby the DOD was accepting production aircraft that it knew needed to 

be fixed and the root cause of many problems were untested and unknown.

Moreover, the challenging technical nature and complexity of the programs could not be understated. Both aircraft were ambitious projects, demanding a level of ingenuity and perseverance from America’s greatest minds 

and most exceptional engineers. The F-111 was an extremely complicated 

design, bringing four new technologies to the table: variable-sweep wings, 

afterburning turbofan engines, a capsule ejection system, and an all-weather 

terrain following radar system.126 Requirements dictated that the aircraft 

boast unparalleled range and endurance, flying seven hours and 15 minutes 

without refueling and a ferrying a range of between 3,200 and 4,000 miles 

depending on the model, the ability to complete transatlantic flights without 

refueling or external tanks, and an ability to lift a payload of 30,000 pounds.127

In other words, four F-111As would deliver the bomb loads of 20 F-4s and not 

require Wild Weasels or ECM escort aircraft.128 Because of these characteristics, once developmental problems were resolved, the aircraft became an invaluable part of the inventory, the star of Operation El Dorado Canyon, and 

the workhorse of Operation Desert Storm. 129 However, the status of the F-111 

program in 1969, compounded by the ongoing delivery of production aircraft 

contributed to Packard’s belief that defense programs that were too complex, 

tolerated too much concurrency, and were not a sound approach.

The C-5A was equally ambitious and a significant development in the US 

military’s strategic airlift capability. The promise of carrying tanks, large helicopters, fighter aircraft, other outsized equipment, and the capability to airlaunch Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles (ICBMs) anywhere in the world 

represented combat capability on a scale never seen before.130 For Laird and 

Packard, the successful development of the C-5A was a critical part of creating the Nixon Doctrine. This required increased dependency on strategic mobility which was a viable strategy. Even when restricted to 80 percent of its 

design air-load limits, the air-refueling-capable heavy cargo aircraft accomplished an array of feats unimaginable before its introduction in 1969. In 

January 1971, it delivered three CH-47 Chinook helicopters to Vietnam. The 

CH-47s were airborne 10 hours after arrival as the C-5 returned three damaged CH-47s to an Army Depot in Pennsylvania for repair.131 However, like 

the F-111 program, the concurrent nature of the program was costly, bringing 

the Lockheed Corporation to the brink of insolvency in the summer of 1970.

It would quickly become apparent to Packard and other senior acquisition 

officials that the concurrent approach to acquisition was not working. Concurrency resulted in costly retrofits, unacceptable initial performance on the 
33

battlefield, and the inability to control costs. Most significantly, it inflicted a 

great deal of uncertainty upon America’s senior leaders and limited their options. The USAF was accepting fighter-bomber and mobility aircraft it knew 

was not ready for the fight. C-5As and F-111s rolled off the production line as 

problems were still being discovered as well as the final performance of the 

systems and final costs of the program unknown. Arguably, the C-5 did not 

demonstrate full operational capability until 1982. The F-111 and its excessively complicated avionics did not prove reliable or useful in combat operations until 1986. Therefore, prospects of modernization were grim when Laird 

and Packard arrived at the Pentagon in 1969; the DOD would continue to rely 

on legacy platforms, such as C-141s and F-4s.

The approach to the acquisition of the C-5A and F-111 was known as TPP. 

During the early to mid-1960s, McNamara centralized authority and planning for defense procurement within the OSD. Under TPP, the DOD contracted with defense companies on a fixed-price basis for both program development and production stages simultaneously. The concept was proposed 

by Robert H. Charles, assistant secretary of the Air Force for Installations and 

Logistics, and informally introduced at a management conference at WrightPatterson Air Force Base on 25 June 1964. 132 On 21 November 1964, Secretary of the Air Force Eugene M. Zuckert proposed using TPP to procure the 

C-5, and on 25 February 1965, McNamara approved. 133 Assistant Secretary 

Charles had worked for McDonnell Aircraft Corporation and believed TPP 

would incentive cost-efficient programs by rewarding contractors for controlling development and production costs.134 Once a contract was secured, defense contractors did not face competition moving from development into 

production.135 A similar contract was signed for the F-111 program several 

years earlier on 21 December 1962.136 The services resisted the joint nature of 

the F-111 program and McNamara eventually abandoned the approach in 

1966; however, his successors, namely LP, were left to deal with the contracts 

signed under TPP.137

Both the military services and contractors shared the blame on the C-5, 

F-111, and other troubled acquisition programs. TPP contracts offered defense 

contractors little incentive because of the absence of competition for production contracts. The military services also exacerbated the problem by introducing or allowing contract changes into the programs and not enforcing the 

fixed-price nature of the contracts because they were reluctant to incur further 

delays by shifting to a new contractor.138 More significantly, the TPP approach 

failed to provide industry the opportunity to conduct significant re-designs 

and re-builds before production started. It did not recognize that the C-5A, 
34

F-111, and other complex weapon systems were “wicked problems” that naturally required an iterative approach to resolve initial design flaws.139

Regarding the joint acquisition programs chartered under McNamara, 

Packard later remarked: “I feel very strongly that decisions must be made as 

close as possible to the point of execution. It is difficult for anyone to carry out 

a decision imposed from above. The F-111 is an example. The Navy was never 

very enthusiastic about it. It wasn’t a Navy decision.”140 Because of weight gain 

and other issues, the US Navy successfully abandoned the carrier variant of 

the program years earlier when the Senate Armed Services Committee voted 

on 28 March 1968 to cancel the F-111B contract.141 With the defense budget 

expected to decline, the DOD could not afford costly and ineffective approaches to modernizing the force. Experiences with the C-5A and F-11 had 

taught the DOD that concurrent approaches and joint programs were not viable. As Packard got settled as DEPSEC, he would first need to orient himself 

within the defense acquisition machine; then, he would look for opportunities to build and employ mechanisms (reforms) to improve it.

Laird Assembles His Team

Meanwhile, throughout December 1968, Laird worked tirelessly to assemble the team he would take to the Pentagon. On 8 January 1969, Laird announced his three service secretaries—Stanley Resor (Army), John Chafee 

(Navy), and Dr. Robert Seamans (Air Force).142 On 18 February 1969, Laird 

and Packard held a joint press conference to announce Thaddeus Beal (Army), 

Dr. John L. McLucas (Air Force), and John Warner (Navy) would be appointed in undersecretary roles.143 While the top Navy and Army civilian 

leaders—Resor, Beal, Chafee, and Warner—came from backgrounds as politicians and lawyers, Dr. Seamans and Dr. McLucas arrived at the Pentagon with 

highly distinguished technical pedigrees. In other words, technocrats assumed the top civilian leadership posts within the Air Force. Packard recalled: 

“we had a good close working relationship with the service secretaries. We 

selected all of them . . . we worked with them to decide what their policies 

should be, what we wanted to do, and then let them do it.”144

Laird delivered a strong message to the media that he expected the service 

secretaries to play a more significant role within OSD than in the previous 

administrations. “These are outstanding men who have been selected to serve 

as secretaries of the three services, and I intend to hold them responsible 

along with the chiefs of the various services to a much greater extent than has 

been the case in the last two years.” Laird continued: “I don’t believe the Secretary of Defense can make every decision in this building . . . We should 
35

make the service secretaries share a greater responsibility in the decisionmaking process.”145 A year into Packard’s tenure, Government Executive observed that the Air Force was quicker than the Navy and Army in taking advantage of Packard’s reforms: “[The] Air Force is making greater progress 

generally than Army or Navy implementing Defense Deputy Secretary Packard’s program of decentralizing project management authority.”146 Packard 

stated: “All I can do is show the way. If they [the military] don’t find ways to 

do most of the implementation themselves, they simply won’t get the full benefits of what they are being offered.”147 Air Force Systems Command commander, Gen James Ferguson agreed: “I can say that both the Chief of Staff 

and the Secretary of the Air Force have taken the position that matches exactly what Mr. Packard has said, and it’s really my job to keep working the 

problem as best I can.”148 Ferguson provided examples of the F-15, F-111, and 

the Minuteman program offices moving from the Pentagon to Air Force Systems Command (AFSC) at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio.

Before becoming secretary of the Air Force, Dr. Seamans spent most of his 

career at MIT and NASA. He received his undergraduate degree in engineering at Harvard in 1939, a master’s degree in aeronautics from MIT in 1942, and 

a doctorate in instrumentation from MIT in 1951.149 He taught at MIT until 

1960 while also gaining experience at the Radio Corporation of America 

within the Airborne Systems Department and Missile Electronics and Controls Division in Burlington, Massachusetts. Seamans then transitioned to 

NASA, where he managed a myriad of research and development programs, 

field laboratories, assembling and launching facilities, and a worldwide network of tracking stations. From 1966 to 1969, Seamans was a National Delegate to NATO for the Advisory Group for Aerospace Research and Development. Commenting on the differences between NASA and DOD, Seamans 

recalled: “the biggest difference was the scale of the activity, measured then in 

financial terms $25 billion (for the Air Force) versus $6 billion at NASA, or in 

personnel terms 1.3 million compared with 33,000.”150 Seamans’ systems acquisition experience from NASA gave him insight into key steps of the acquisition process, such as project definition, procurement planning, contractor 

(source) selection, contract administration, development, and operations. In a 

1987 interview, Packard recalled: “I had a good rapport with Bob Seamans . . . 

he was an engineer; in his case, we had a number of important programs—the 

F-15 was going to start, the B-1, AWACS, and other things—and we worked 

closely with Bob to get a general agreement on what the overall program was 

going to be and then expected him to work with his people to get it done.”151

McLucas was an equally qualified technocrat, with the ability to effectively 

navigate academia, the private sector, and the bureaucracy of the DOD. Thus, 
36

he got along well with Packard. McLucas served as an officer in the US Navy 

from 1943 to 1946, completed a doctorate in physics from Pennsylvania State 

University in 1950, served as vice president, technical director, and then president at an electronics firm (Raymond and Brown Incorporated later HRBSinger Inc.), and joined the DOD in 1962 as deputy director of Defense Research and Engineering until 1964. McLucas’s assignment as assistant 

secretary for scientific affairs at NATO Headquarters in Paris, France, provided him international experience, and in 1966, he became president of MITRE Corporation, where he remained until his appointment as undersecretary of the Air Force on 17 March 1969.152 McLucas’s appointment as secretary 

of the Air Force after Seaman’s departure in 1973 was significant as it provided 

continuity in leadership and ensured continued support for Packard’s ongoing prototyping initiatives through 1975, although Packard departed from the 

Pentagon in 1971.

Seamans met with Laird and Packard twice a week. On Mondays, Laird 

held a large meeting in his conference room while on Wednesdays, Laird, 

Packard, Seamans, and McLucas met to discuss Air Force specific issues for 

about an hour. At the Monday meetings, Laird sat at one end of the conference table and Packard at the other end with the service secretaries and the 

JCS in between. Key staff and service undersecretaries sat around the perimeter of the room. The Wednesday meetings were “informal.”153 Laird and 

Packard also established a rhythm and quickly solidified their working relationship which did not require them to formalize their roles and responsibilities within the Pentagon: “Mel and I had an understanding. We never wrote it 

down.”154 Packard added: “Mel and I met quite often. We had lunch together 

almost always when both of us were there.”155

Packard attended dinner parties as necessary but avoided the Washington 

cocktail circuit.156 Although friendly, he abhorred small talk.157 Instead, Packard preferred to read. Mrs. Packard said that in California, he kept two thick 

books at his bedside, which he frequently read until he became drowsy, one 

on cattle breeding and the other on feed grass. Two of his military aides accompanied him on a visit to one of his California ranches, where they described a man in his element—hoisting 100-pound sacks of feed into the back 

of a jeep and then driving on mountain trails and through gullies to feed stray 

cattle. “You could see he loved it; he had bulldozed many of the roads himself,” 

explained one of the military assistants.158
37

Part III: Devising an Approach

Aligning Force Structure & Procurement with Commitments

Organizations of people are born and develop when people are bonded 

together with a common objective—a common goal. Their talents, their 

energies become fully attuned to their aspirations—and working 

together they can surmount unbelievable obstacles. This has been the 

history of the United States.

-David Packard

March 1972

A distinct delineation of roles within the LP team emerged within the first 

two months of the duo taking office. Laird stayed focused on the war at hand, 

while Packard became the architect for the future. Packard assumed responsibility for long-term force structure planning and reforming the acquisition 

system.159 During his first year, Packard worked to develop strategic guidance, 

understand the operational environment, and define problems with ongoing 

acquisition programs. Furthermore, he worked to implement an approach to 

acquisition that could provide future decision makers with affordable options 

for modernizing the force.160

In February 1969, Laird announced that he would travel to Vietnam with 

General Wheeler from 5 March to 12 March, while David Packard would lead 

“a budget revision study” to be completed by March and a “long-range, overall strategic study” to be completed by May.161 Packard’s effort became known 

as NSSM-3—a comprehensive study of national security strategy and its 

cost—which examined alternative military strategies, the force structure, and 

funds required to execute them. Packard led a steering group between January and September 1969 with representatives of the NSC, State, Treasury, the 

JCS, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), and the Bureau of the Budget.162

NSSM-3 played a critical role in how the Nixon Doctrine transitioned from 

rhetoric to reality as it evolved from the Guam Doctrine in the summer of 

1969 to the FY 1971 defense budget.

Through the NSSM-3 process, Packard gained a strategic understanding of 

the DOD and a look beyond Vietnam within months of becoming DEPSEC. 

If the department was viewed as a ship, then Laird steered from the command 

deck, focusing on the immediate situation, while Packard sat below deck in 

the Pentagon studying navigational charts and maps to plot the course for the 

days ahead. NSSM-3 centered on the analysis of five alternative military 
38

strategies for employing conventional forces—providing a range of manpower and costs: “Strategy 1,” the cheapest, entailed a force of 1.94 million at 

an annual cost of $72 billion; “Strategy 5,” the most costly, entailed a force of 

2.86 million at $102 billion.163 The Nixon administration inherited a force of 

3.46 million personnel and a defense budget of $76.9 billion and looked to the 

withdrawal from Southeast Asia as a means to achieve cost savings and drawdown the size of the force.164 It was cost-effectively modernizing the force 

while achieving personnel and budget goals that compounded Packard’s dilemma. Given the state of defense procurement efforts inherited from McNamara, Packard calculated that the introduction of new aircraft, such as the 

F-14, F-15, F-111, and E-2C, and nuclear-powered ships at current spending 

levels would result in substantial force cuts. The DOD would need to cut the 

Air Force from 23 to 15 wings; the Navy from 15 to 12 attack carriers and 

from 12 to 10 air wings; and shrink each Marine Corps wing from 139 to 103 

aircraft.165 It was clear the DOD was headed toward tricky waters. Packard 

awaited the preferences of each of the services: would they desire a larger 

quantity of more straightforward, less expensive aircraft, or a smaller quantity 

of more expensive aircraft?

In other words, how could the services modernize on the cheap while innovating a budget? In 1969, there was not an end to the Vietnam War in sight, 

and the pending cuts to the defense budget made the daunting task of retooling the US military for conventional warfare against a peer competitor even 

more challenging. Within the familiar acquisition triumvirate of cost, schedule, and performance, cost became paramount. Packard needed to create processes and programs that fostered, facilitated, and incentivized innovation 

within a fiscally austere, cost-conscience budget landscape. Packard knew the 

issue was mind over matter; to him, abundance was a mindset, not a financial 

condition. For example, his company, HP, had always operated from a mindset of abundance, even as a modest start-up operating out of a one-car garage 

with limited capital. However, while Packard brought the Pentagon a great 

deal of experience scaling innovation on limited resources in the private sector, the problem he faced in the Pentagon was much more complicated. He 

needed to figure out how to scale innovation within the bureaucracy of the US 

government. Packard expressed confidence in his ability to get the job done: 

“this does not trouble me too much because I am sure we can get more defense for our dollar . . . we can develop better procedures on which to build 

our budgets for the future.” Regarding the future of tactical airpower, Packard 

did not provide any promises to the Navy or Air Force on the direction ahead: 

“I do not expect all parties to come to a happy agreement on these matters, 

but I predict they will be influenced heavily by budgetary restraints.”166
39

While working on NSSM-3, Packard traveled to West Germany and Korea 

to gain insights into the nature and status of US commitments abroad. Packard realized very early on that: “Our defense budget is determined by our 

commitments around the world.” 167 Thus, the trip served to enhance his ability to frame procurement efforts within the context of current operational 

capabilities of both US and allied forces as well as how future US forces were 

projected to meet long-term, post-Vietnam War strategic interests. Of note, 

the trip to Europe provided Packard with an opportunity to learn details 

about the troubled development of the Main Battle Tank (MBT-70), a cooperative program between the United States and West Germany. Packard’s understanding of the MBT-70 program, as well as the equipment operated by 

the forward-based US and allied soldiers significantly influenced his understanding and opinion of defense acquisition programs moving forward. Specifically, this fueled his desire to procure simple, reliable, and effective equipment for the battlefield.

Between 7 and 12 April, Packard traveled to Europe to visit Army, Air 

Force, and Navy units in West Germany, London, and Scotland.168 On 7 

April, Packard arrived in Stuttgart, West Germany, and received briefings 

from five generals, including Gen Lyman L. Lemnitzer, Supreme Allied 

Commander, Europe, on the posture, readiness, capabilities, limitations, and 

major problem areas of US forces in Europe. The next day, he visited a NikeHercules battery at Kleingartach, West Germany. Although impressed by the 

vast responsibility assumed by junior officers, he showed concerns that the 

equipment was unnecessarily complicated and “believed there should be a 

concerted effort to simplify it.” Packard also visited armor, cavalry, infantry, 

artillery, and border security units. On 10 April, the party toured a supply 

depot, Seventeenth Air Force headquarters, three tactical fighter wings, and 

a tactical reconnaissance wing. Packard and his party concluded the trip by 

visiting London and then Holy Loch, Scotland, to observe Polaris submarine 

operations.169 In a press conference, Packard showed interest in the troubled 

MBT-70, noting the complexities inherent in joint acquisition: “I think it’s a 

desirable thing to have joint programs to the extent this can be done in a 

practical manner. But whenever you get two or three parties in the design of 

a piece of equipment, it makes I think a little more difficult to come out with 

the necessary agreements to make the program efficient in terms of its development and also in terms of the time it takes to get from the initial stages 

into production.”170

On 9 September 1969, Packard addressed the Senate Armed Services Committee on the status of the troubled MBT-70 program, initiated in 1963.171

Designed to fight at night, demonstrate superior ability and mobility on the 
40

battlefield, have a low silhouette and heavy armor, and kill targets at greater 

range than legacy tanks, the requirements for the design were as ambitious as 

the F-111 and C-5A programs. Packard recommended that the MBT-70’s design be simplified. “Complexities in the design” and “complexities in the management arrangements” had resulted in cost overruns that needed attention. 

He explained that design trade-offs should be made: “the joint design team 

tried to include all the desirable features which should be built into a new 

generation tank . . . what we need is to get the program down to a more realistic basis . . . offered by the work that has been done.” Packard provided examples of successful subsystem development efforts—the stabilized gunsight, 

night vision, and the primary weapon, and recommended continued development on those specific systems before integrating them into a simplified design. Packard then explained the opportunity to cancel less successful subsystems and components in development, particularly those which had multiple 

developmental efforts ongoing—specifically an engine, a suspension system, 

and a secondary weapon. For example, of the three engine developments—a 

water-cooled diesel created by the Germans, an air-cooled diesel being initiated by the United States, and a turbine engine for the future power plant—

Packard recommended canceling the air-cooled diesel based on the success of 

the water-cooled design.172

Halting program expenditures while the design team put together their final recommendations, Packard promised to decide on whether or not the 

MBT-70 program would go forward or be canceled by December 1969. “I 

asked our design people to make a complete review of this program to identify what features could be eliminated while still retaining adequate capability.” 173 Packard directed the review team to focus on five areas: cost, performance, survivability, an analysis of alternatives, and a component technology 

readiness review. Packard closed his statement by stressing the importance of 

design trade-offs and streamlined program management in achieving cost 

goals—“it does appear that with certain modifications, the MBT-70 can be 

reconfigured to achieve essential cost reductions in production through design simplifications and an improved program management structure.”174

On 20 January 1970, Packard officially announced the way ahead for the 

MBT-70 program—a focus on simplified operation and maintenance and 

improved reliability. Cost goals, rather than requirements, would drive the 

program.

One thing we impress on (our project managers) is the trade-offs between 

operational and engineering design. Cutting costs is the ultimate goal. The 

question they have to answer is “Do we need that extra percent of engineering 

design to get the job done?” What has happened time and again is that the 
41

military wanted the best possible operational weapons. The scientific and 

technical people wanted the best design. The two kept banging heads, pushing costs up higher than really necessary.175

In making the decision, Packard and Secretary of the Army, Stanley Resor, 

considered four alternatives. This included the legacy M-60 tank, an upgraded 

M-60 tank, the original MBT program, and the modified MBT program; the 

modified MBT program was selected.176 By April 1971, the program had been 

restructured as XM-803.177

Packard learned several key lessons from his analysis of the MBT-70 program. First, the experience reconfirmed his existing belief from the F-111 

and C-5A—that there was a trend within the DOD to procure weapons that 

were unnecessarily complex which resuleted in reduced operational reliability. “I think this is going to be an area where we are going to continue to keep 

emphasis. We want to have the equipment good enough, but if it gets so 

complex, you can’t keep it working—and it’s expensive to make—you’d be 

better off with something a little less complex that would be more reliable.” 

178 Second, Packard reinforced his opposition to concurrency by initiating 

production too early. The DOD and the contractors “find out there are a 

good many details that have not been worked out yet, so you get a high volume of change orders, and sometimes delays in the production process, 

which adds up the cost.” 179 To counter concurrency, Packard desired sequential flow development to ensure that the major problems have been worked 

out before starting production.

Next, Packard visited Korea. Tensions escalated on the Korean Peninsula 

on 15 April 1969, when two North Korean MiG-21 fighters shot down a US 

Navy EC-121 reconnaissance aircraft, killing 31 US service members.180 The 

EC-121 was shot down over the Sea of Japan as it flew a regular surveillance 

mission in international airspace 80 miles from the North Korean coast. The 

Nixon administration responded by dispatching aircraft carriers and other 

Navy ships to the Sea of Japan as a show of force. In early June, Packard traveled to Korea and Japan to attend the second annual meeting of the defense 

ministries of the United States and the Republic of Korea.181

In a 12 June 1969 news release, Packard stated: “My visit to the Republic of 

Korea was extremely worthwhile . . . the trip gave me firsthand insight into the 

situation in Korea. I can best describe it as tense but hopeful.”182 The news 

release documented the status of continued “aggressive acts” of North Korea; 

South Korea reported that the North Koreans had violated the Armistice numerous times, including commando-type incursions along the coast using 

high-speed boats and other means.183 The United States responded cautiously 

to South Korean pressures for another military aid increase comparable to the 
42

emergency $100 million program announced after the Pueblo seizure.184 Although Packard was impressed with South Korean plans for a two-millionman militia, he asked for time to finalize a modernization program for the 

Korean armed forces. Plans included the delivery of patrol boats, helicopters, 

and other counterguerrilla assistance designed to restore recent congressional 

cuts in the military aid program. Packard later explained that the Koreans 

desired updated equipment as they had difficulty maintaining and getting 

spare parts for their World War II-era equipment.185

Although hesitant to make any other official announcements, Korean Defense Minister Im Chung Sik and Packard concluded that providing additional small arms to support South Korea’s counter-infiltration program was 

essential. The DOD agreed to arrange for a follow-on visit by Colt Industries 

to negotiate for the establishment of a plant in Korea to produce M-16 rifles 

and ammunition.186 Republic of Korea (ROK) military leaders expressed concern that the North Koreans had AK-47s, while the South Koreans still used 

M-14 rifles. Packard estimated that M-16 factories could be implemented in 

South Korea for roughly $10 million.187 Packard also confirmed the ROK military was still on track to receive F-4 Phantoms starting in August 1969.188

Visiting Korea and West Germany provided Packard the opportunity to 

understand the challenges of foreign aid, whether via the direct provision of 

equipment, licensed manufacturing, cooperatively developed equipment, or 

some combination of all three. The trip also revealed the interconnected nature of commitments abroad; Korea and other partner nations provided troop 

contingents to Vietnam to offset US expenses, while partner nation readiness 

and capabilities impacted US strategy. These considerations would become 

extremely important as Packard finalized NSSM-3, and the Nixon Doctrine 

slowly took shape.

Nixon Doctrine Solidifies—Reducing Commitments Abroad

On 25 July 1969, President Nixon caused a stir among the press and the 

public in both Asia and the United States, by announcing a potential reduction of US commitments abroad during a tour of Asia.189 Nixon informally 

met reporters in Guam after watching the splashdown of the Apollo astronauts after their return from the first landing on the moon. Regarding his tour 

in Asia: “Asians will say in every country that we visit that they do not want to 

be dictated from outside, Asia for Asians. That is what we want, and that is the 

role we should play. We should assist but not dictate.” Everyone, including 

Henry Kissinger, was surprised by Nixon’s remarks. Nixon would refine and 

restate his message throughout his presidency, becoming one of the main 
43

foreign policy themes of the Nixon administration. Initially called the Guam 

Doctrine, it later became known as the Nixon Doctrine.190

In the State of the Union Address to Congress on 22 January 1970, Nixon 

clarified his rationale: “We have based our policies on an evaluation of the 

world as it is, not as it was 25 years ago at the conclusion of World War II. 

Then . . . America had to assume the major burden for the defense of freedom 

in the world.” Nixon continued: “in two wars, first in Korea and now in Vietnam, we furnished most of the money, most of the arms, most of the men to 

help other nations defend their freedom . . . today the great industrial nations 

in Europe, as well as Japan, have regained their economic strength.” While 

promising to protect existing treaty commitments, Nixon announced he 

would reduce US involvement and presence abroad and called on other nations to assume the “primary responsibility” for their defense.191

Packard’s trips to Korea and West Germany put him in a good position to 

implement the Nixon Doctrine; it soon became clear that in addition to M16s rifles and MBT-70 battle tanks, the United States would also have to provide various forms of airpower to allied nations. One such program was the 

“new free world fighter aircraft,” the F-5. In a letter to Congressman L. Mendel 

Rivers (D–SC), Chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, on 24 

September 1969, Packard wrote: “over the past few months we have been 

studying the question of how we can provide an appropriate fighter for our 

free world allies . . . we believe we will need about 325 for Korea, Taiwan, 

South Vietnam, and other countries over the next five or six years.”192

Given the budget cuts that accompanied the Nixon Doctrine, Packard emphasized the importance of the US commitment to NATO as well as the need 

to maintain sufficient naval forces to protect freedom of navigation.193 Reflecting on studies conducted during his first year to determine appropriate levels 

of nuclear forces and conventional forces, Packard concluded: “out of this 

came a conviction that the strategic forces already planned were about right; 

they did not require significant change, with the exception of Safeguard until 

we could make some assessment of where the SALT negotiations with the 

Soviets might be headed.” The DOD concluded it could have significantly 

smaller conventional forces in the post-Vietnam era; vastly oversimplified, 

this equated to a one and one-half war posture instead of the old two-andone-half war stance.194

The reduction of US force strength was accompanied by an increase in 

military aid and assistance to US allies. Between 1966 and 1969, under Johnson and McNamara, the United States expended a total of nearly $7 billion in 

“support of other nations.” Between 1970 and 1973, this amount increased to 

nearly $10 billion, a 40 percent increase.195 Between the 1967 and 1973 Israeli-
44

Arab wars, the Soviets increased their aid to Egypt and Syria, including establishing and operating an air defense system in Egypt. As a war of attrition 

unfolded from March 1969 to August 1970 between Israel and Egypt along 

the Suez Canal, the United States felt compelled to increase aid to Israel. US 

military assistance to Israel increased from $40 million a year for the three 

years after the Six-Day War (June 1967) to $400 million a year, providing 28 

percent of Israel’s total defense spending.196

On 14 April 1970, Packard explained to a crowd in St. Louis the Nixon 

Doctrine’s impact on defense spending, DOD workforce, and policy abroad. 

Packard noted the shift in government spending toward domestic programs, 

reminding the crowd that for the first time in 20 years, defense spending was 

second place behind domestic human resource programs.197 Packard highlighted in another interview: “our defense spending is only 34% of the Gross 

National Product.”198 Comparing FY1971 to FY1969, Packard explained that 

DOD manpower had been reduced by 600,000 military personnel and 100,000 

civilian employees.199 The defense industry also prepared for cuts. According 

to the Department of Labor statistics, 3.4 million Americans held jobs generated by DOD spending at the beginning of 1970; Packard estimated 1 million 

defense contractor employees would need to find work elsewhere.200 The 

FY1971 budget was $71.8 billion, down from $78.7 billion in FY1969 ($6.9 

billion less); however, Packard noted that the purchasing power of the defense 

budget was reduced by $12.3 billion because of inflation.201 Regarding the impact of the Nixon Doctrine abroad, the DEPSEC stated that South Vietnamese troops had already replaced 115,000 US troops. 202

Consistent with the tenets of the Nixon Doctrine, Packard stated: “The cuts 

that are being made in our armed forces are made possible, not because 

threats to peace have lessened, but because we expect other nations to assume 

more of the responsibility which we have been carrying for their defense.” He 

concluded by saying: “There are some who say we must neglect our needs at 

home to discharge our international responsibilities. Others say we must return to isolationism to give adequate attention to domestic problems. President Nixon rejects both of these extremes.”203

Although the DOD appeared to be handling the budget cuts in stride, in 

August 1970, Packard warned that further cuts in defense spending could 

jeopardize America’s national security and position as a world leader. When 

asked by media if it would be possible to reduce the defense budget further 

as the Vietnam War was winding down, Packard admitted it could be cut 

further but warned:
45

We must keep our military capability up, because the world is no less hostile just because 

we are withdrawing from Vietnam. In fact, the world may be growing more hostile . . . 

for a number of reasons: the growing danger in the Mideast, the heavy defense spending 

that continues in the Soviet Union, especially, the continuing build-up of Russia’s strategic nuclear forces; and Red China’s massive efforts to develop nuclear weapons and

missiles . . . 204

Packard explained that if the United States continued its path of budget 

cuts and isolation as “Fortress America,” it would risk forfeiting its position as 

a world leader and be unable to support NATO and its other friends and allies. Packard also highlighted how inflation compounded the effects of the 

budget cuts: “Even if the defense budget does not fall below the 70-billiondollar level, the purchasing power we will have—the capability we will have to 

provide manpower, equipment, and military power—will be significantly less 

because of inflation.”205

As of 1970, the Nixon administration was only one-third of the way into 

making its desired cuts in DOD manpower. Between 1969 and 1972, the administration worked to reduce the number of uniformed personnel from 3.4 

million to under 2.5 million and the number of DOD civilians from 1.2 million to 1.1 million. However, as Packard states, manpower cuts “get into the 

basic problem of how many divisions we will have available to support NATO 

and how many divisions we will have available to support whatever future 

military requirements there might be in other parts of the world.”206 While 

reduced manpower requirements enabled the Nixon administration to end 

the draft and achieve their goal of an all-volunteer force, Packard admitted 

that the pay and other incentives required to create an all-volunteer force 

would cost between $1 and $2 billion. Thus, although the all-volunteer force 

would be smaller, it would not necessarily result in significant budget efficiencies or cost savings.207

Defense contractors faced an uncertain future, as Packard’s efforts to look 

beyond Vietnam and modernize the force naturally tilted funds away from 

labor force intensive activities, such as aircraft production. Packard looked to 

salvage as much of the highly-skilled labor force as possible—the labor force 

that would be desperately needed to advance aircraft developmental efforts 

and prototyping during a protracted period of budget austerity.

Packard’s first year as DEPSEC provided him a valuable opportunity to 

observe and orient himself within the Pentagon. Particularly it helped him 

discover how he might arm the US military and its allies to meet long-term 

strategic interests. From the licensed manufacturing of small arms in Korea to 

the increased provision of foreign aid to Israel, to the modernization of tanks 

in West Germany, to the need for improved supersonic long-range strike 
46

aircraft, to the development of a large cargo aircraft, the breadth and complexity of the task at hand was not a small undertaking. Also, Packard would 

have to balance modernization efforts amid defense budget cuts, a move he 

knew would induce a political backlash at home. Incredibly, a total of 2 million American jobs were laid on the chopping block as Nixon attempted to 

withdraw from Vietnam. Packard needed to devise a strategy that would keep 

skilled labor and competition intact, which implied significant cuts to production while keeping as many jobs as possible alive within the defense industry using RDT&E funds. Above all, Packard needed to unravel the riddle 

of the defense acquisition system. Once he framed the problem at hand, he 

needed to reduce it to simple terms and communicate in a way that the nation 

could understand.

The Three Problems of DOD Acquisition Programs

Packard’s Axis of Evil—Overly Complex, Too Much Concurrency, 

Poorly Managed

Military procurement programs were in a bind in the late 1960s. Packard 

was immediately confronted with some tough decisions: “Almost all of the 

programs under the TPP policy were in trouble, and we had to figure out a 

way to deal with them.”208 In his first appearance before a congressional committee on the defense budget, Laird delivered the bad news and announced 

$16.2 billion in cost overruns on 34 major defense weapon systems.209 Major 

defense programs, such as the F-111 fighter-bomber and the C-5A air transport were suffering from developmental problems and cost overruns.210 The 

overruns were particularly troublesome in the face of the shrinking DOD 

budget. In April 1969, Nixon cut DOD’s FY1970 budget by more than a billion dollars and then by another $3 billion in August.211 As of March 1970, the 

problem compounded, as costs on 27 significant weapons programs soared 

$20 billion above planning estimates.212

Based on his early experience with the MBT-70, the F-111, the C-5A, and 

other programs, Packard identified three primary problems with DOD acquisition programs: complexity, concurrency, and poor management. First, “We 

must stop designing weapons that are too complex.”213 Packard understood 

that military planners typically wanted to push technology to the extreme to 

get the best performance possible, while the defense industry tended to be too 

optimistic about what could be achieved. Packard admitted this approach was 

possible if “you have unlimited time and money,” but both were limited.214

Also, Packard wanted the services to consider the merits of reliability and 
47

maintainability on the battlefield rather than focus on weaponry dependent 

on high-tech gadgets. Alluding to the MBT-70, Packard explained “a computerized fire control may increase the accuracy of tank gunnery, but so far it 

does not give evidence of increasing the reliability of gunnery. A tank with its 

gun out of order is no tank at all.” 215 Practical applications of this principle 

included Packard and the secretary of the Army scaling back the MBT-70—to 

a simpler, more austere version, and Packard ordering the Air Force to put a 

less sophisticated fire control system on the F-15.216

Second, Packard demonstrated zero tolerance for concurrency by discontinuing the “costly shortcut of running into production before resolving development problems.” 217 Packard argued that the DOD could not afford to 

continue to make commitments on production contracts without first having 

a firm grasp of unit cost. He slowed several programs, such as the S-3A, B-1, 

and the Minuteman III missile, to allow for more developmental work and 

testing. Packard explained that by setting firm dates on production, substantial cost overruns occurred when whole factories and production teams had 

to sit by while specific problems were sent back to the developmental labs.218

Packard believed that by shifting from a schedule based on a performancebased acquisition system that, “it should be possible to save quite a lot—and 

we’ll probably get the equipment just as fast as otherwise.” The new contracts 

stipulated that money would not be freed to go onto the next phase unless the 

previous technology milestone was successfully achieved.219 In one interview, 

Packard explained

[concurrency] results from anxiety on the part of the services to get the weapon into 

operation. All the projects I have looked at since I came here had that same problem . . . 

we’ve asked the services to stretch out the time schedules; it’s not so important to save a 

few dollars in development as it is to get the job done right. Then you don’t have to go 

back and redo some development work once production has started, which can be even 

more costly. Also, once the development work is done properly, then it is possible to assess production costs realistically.220

Third, most projects suffered from poor management practices, precisely 

the inability to hold any one person responsible for critical decisions made 

along the way and the regular service pattern of rotating men to new assignments every two years or so.221 Regarding the first issue, “one of the problems 

inherent in the (present) system is that the project manager doesn’t have 

enough authority.” Packard explained that DOD project managers needed 

signatures from various places within the formal command organization, 

such as the reliability group, the maintenance group, and the value engineering group. “Soon, the project is nothing but a guy who steers papers in the 

direction of these fella; and the project ends up being designed by committee.”222
48

In addition to providing project managers with more authority and responsibility, Packard felt that the services failed to provide adequate incentives to 

attract “first-rate” personnel willing to be project managers. Also, he felt that 

the services did not provide sufficient continuity once in position.223 In his 

memoirs, Secretary of the Air Force Robert Seamans Jr. noted: “The Air Force 

conducted a study in 1969 of how long project managers were serving before 

reassignment. The more senior members were serving less than three years . . 

. we definitely needed to extend the time spent by the project team before 

reassignment.”224 For Packard, “only three years” was insufficient.225 Seamans 

added: “Avoidance of mistakes, an early transfer, and a clean record should 

not be the modus operandi. I don’t really believe many officers had that point 

of view.”226 Packard added: “(OSD) is trying to get military people to concentrate on specialized areas. We also are trying to get military people to specialize early in their careers.”227

Part IV: The Three Cogs

Reallocating Roles and Responsibilities 

Among the Services and OSD

To address the three problems in acquisition, Packard employed two 

mechanisms, one in May 1969 and one in October 1969. A third mechanism 

conveniently fell into place soon after Packard’s completion of NSSM-3 in 

October 1969. The first mechanism, the DSARC—the predecessor to the 

modern-day MDA—simultaneously provided the services with more day-today authority and responsibility to run their programs while also retaining 

authority at crucial checkpoints in a program’s development.

The DSARC: Hewlett’s “Three Hats” Meet the Pentagon

The DSARC, a council of four members, advised Laird and Packard on the 

status of major acquisition programs as they progressed from design to fullscale production but did not interfere with the day-to-day management of 

programs within the services.228 The DSARC enabled OSD to prevent extremely complicated or unproven hardware from proceeding into production 

before it was ready. DSARC became a key component within Packard’s new 

acquisition framework, as it provided Packard the ability to exercise centralized control and decentralized execution within the realm of defense acquisition. In this sense, Packard envisioned DSARC as the JCS of the acquisition 

forces, a committee entrusted with the authority to make strategic “go, no-go” 
49

decisions on the fate of weapon systems as they reached various stages in development known as checkpoints.229 Packard stated, “I envision that there will 

always be at least two critical checkpoints on major programs at which authorization to proceed will be obtained from the SECDEF. The first checkpoint is 

the decision to go into full-scale development on a new program. The second 

is the decision to go into production.”230

Members included the Director, Defense Research and Engineering 

(DDR&E), Dr. John Foster; Assistant Secretary for Installations and Logistics, 

Barry J. Shillito; Assistant Secretary for Systems Analysis, Ivan Selin (and then 

Dr. Gardiner L Tucker (from December 1969)); and Comptroller (Robert 

Moot).231 Three decision milestones were identified: contract initiation, the 

transition from contract to development, and the transition from development to production. Thus, Packard positioned the DSARC to counter two of 

the biggest thorns in his side: overly complex designs (being allowed beyond 

Milestone A) and concurrency (the premature commitment to production, or 

Milestone C).

For Packard, the DSARC did not represent a novel approach to doing business, as it mirrored Bill Hewlett’s role at HP in many ways. At HP, Hewlett 

held the authority to determine which in-house inventions went from development into production. The production decision or “hat-wearing” process 

consisted of three sessions, whereby Hewlett donned three separate hats. 

Other managers called his hats “enthusiasm,” “inquisition,” and “decision.”232

During the first session, Hewlett would don his “enthusiasm” hat, approaching the inventor with the primary purpose of sharing the “unbridled enthusiasm” for the new idea with the inventor by listening, expressing excitement 

and appreciation for the effort. A few days later, Hewlett returned to the inventor wearing a hat called “inquisition,” where he asked pointed questions to 

thoroughly understand the idea, a session characterized by “lots of give-andtake.” Finally, Hewlett met once again with the inventor with his “decision” 

hat. Here he would render a verdict to advance the product into mass production, a decision communicated “with appropriate logic and sensitivity.” 233

Packard thought such a process provided the inventor with a sense of satisfaction, even when the invention did not go into production. HP later shifted 

the “MDA” from Hewlett to the vice president of research and development.234

In essence, HP functioned with only one decision milestone: the transition 

from development into production, thus incentivizing bottom-up, grassroots 

innovation of prototypes from within its divisions. Just as HP divided its product development activities into four divisions—each with responsibility for its 

own family of products and each headed by a manager reporting to the Vice 

President of Research and Development—the DOD divisions consisted of the 
50

Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. Packard likely saw DSARC as the means 

to institutionalize Hewlett’s “hat-wearing” within the DOD.

The existence of only one decision milestone within HP illustrated the degree of autonomy and authority exercised by the various HP divisions and 

foreshadowed the amount of bottom-up activity Packard expected from the 

services concerning the 1971 Advanced Prototype Initiatives. HP’s processes 

provided its divisions the latitude to internally initiate contracts and transition paper studies to hardware development. At HP, management above the 

division level only got involved in the production decision. HP’s division 

managers exercised such a high level of authority and autonomy that they 

sometimes pushed products into production without the co-founder’s knowledge, as Chuck House’s Oscilloscope Display Monitor project illustrated.

To explicitly define the roles and responsibilities of the services and OSD 

within the new construct, Packard released a table titled: “Functional Responsibilities in Acquiring Major Weapon Systems,” which delineated the responsibilities of the SECDEF, the services, as well as responsibilities of various 

positions within OSD. The DEPSEC was notably absent from formal responsibility or authority within the process, likely an attempt by Packard to institutionalize and implement the reforms before his departure. According to 

Seamans, an essential mechanism within the milestone decision was “no satisfactory work, no pay.”235 The approach entailed that defense contractors 

would get progress payments only after meeting specified production or technical milestones, rather than according to the calendar.

In addition to establishing DSARC, Packard moved decisively to decentralize the day-to-day responsibilities of the program offices to the services. In a 

clear example of the decentralization of the day-to-day management of procurement programs, Packard enabled the commander of the AFSC, Gen James 

Ferguson, to transfer responsibility for monitoring the development of the 

F-15 from the Pentagon to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio. Packard 

explained: “The F-15 arrangement was one of my plans that I hope will help.” 

Brig Gen Benjamin N. Bellis was selected to manage the F-15. “Both Secretary 

Laird and I feel it is important to depend on a less complex system of management. We want the services to pick a good man who will have some responsibility for management of the program, who doesn’t have to come back and be 

second-guessed by a lot of other people.”236 “We’ve got to pick managers and 

leave them in place long enough to get a job done.”237 Such an arrangement was 

unimaginable under McNamara, who clutched programs such as the F-111 

tightly. By establishing a system program office in the air staff at the Pentagon, 

McNamara’s arrangement provided an opportunity for senior leadership, such 
51

as the SECDEF or secretary of the Air Force, to take an active hand in its management. Packard looked to reverse course on such initiatives.

Packard also pursued the decentralization of systems analysis staff in 

service-specific areas of combat, such as tactical air and submarine warfare. 

“We are moving in the direction of having the services address those subjects 

which are primarily military matters. We can’t do it in the next budget cycle, 

but in the budget cycle for Fiscal Year 1972, we will have the five-year plan 

initiated by the services rather than by DOD.”238 Similar to the DOD, HP 

found success in organizing itself into “integrated, self-sustaining” divisions. 

Packard wrote: “a primary goal in setting up these divisions was to give each 

on considerable autonomy, creating an environment that fostered individual 

motivation, initiative, and creativity, and that gave a wide latitude of freedom 

in working toward common goals and objectives.” 239

However, Gen Ferguson contended that the shifting of authority and responsibility from the Pentagon to AFSC should not be a one-way street. In 

return for AFSC receiving program management authority, Ferguson proposed moving analytical tasks to the Pentagon that had been done in the field, 

including much of the developmental planning. 240 Examples of such tasks 

included analysis of alternatives, their costs and schedules, and the technical 

inputs to developing a case for building a new system. 241 Within Packard’s 

new framework, nomenclature was shifting. The old paper-centric contract 

definition phase was now the hardware-centric validation phase. 242 The implication was a tectonic shift in focus from paper analysis to the demonstration of actual hardware. Ferguson’s words implied that AFSC was geared to do 

the latter, as more test and evaluation activities were required to support the 

development of actual systems.243 To General Ferguson, Packard’s “fly-beforeyou-buy” approach would inherently represent an increase in usage of test 

sites and ranges such as Edwards Air Force Base, Eglin Air Force Base, Holloman Air Force Base, and the Arnold Engineering Development Complex.

The POM: The Fate of the “Whiz Kids”

Packard quickly recognized that a collaborative approach between OSD 

and the services was desirable to drive acquisition programs more effectively. 

Laird and Packard inherited an apparatus from their predecessor, Robert McNamara, which centralized the authority and management of all these tasks 

within one central Pentagon office: the OSA. OSA played a critical role in 

matching the defense budget to long-term force structure and the procurement of specific weapon systems.
52

It was difficult to determine who hated OSA more: Congress or the services. McNamara established the OSA under his comptroller in 1961 to independently evaluate each military service’s budget. Previously, each service 

separately identified requirements it needed to meet threats as it set forth its 

budget.244 In other words, not a single DOD office or agency could answer 

whether or acquiring a new aircraft or tank or ship would improve national 

security.245 McNamara used OSA as a tool to centralize power by strengthening civilian oversight of military spending. Therefore, when Laird and Packard entered office, they inherited a system where the studies on force structure (i.e., manpower and weapons) were initiated and conducted by young 

civilian intellectuals within OSD skilled in computer technology. Upon completing their studies, OSD then asked the military services to comment. Early 

in his tenure, Packard reversed course: the military would conduct the studies 

and the civilians would comment later.246

In an interview in 1987, Packard explained that McNamara would solicit 

the services for requirements without the services being provided any fiscal 

guidance or restraints. Then, OSA would take public credit for reducing the 

budget from what the service chiefs wanted down to some other figure.247

McNamara did not set a dollar limit for the services to draw up their requirements.248 It was reported that for FY1969, the JCS asked former Secretary 

Clark Clifford for $109 billion, an amount that was then trimmed to $80 billion.249 One high-ranking military officer complained: “We’d put in a big 

shopping list and Systems Analysis would take out anything it wanted.” Said 

another: “It was a real paper mill, a Byzantine way of doing things.”250 Laird 

and Packard did not agree with this approach, instead preferring to meet with 

the service chiefs ahead of time and say “Look gentlemen, this is all the money 

we’re going to have.” This approach was popular among the services as it enabled them to work within general constraints, resulting in better levels of 

cooperation from the services even though everyone did not always get what 

they wanted.251 Packard’s approach meant each of the three services got a firm 

spending limit at the start of the annual budget process. If the Army wanted 

more tanks, it bought fewer helicopters or arranged similar trade-offs.252

McNamara’s young civilian staff became known as the “whiz kids.” The disdain for the civilian “whiz kid” analysts permeated Washington DC, as they 

had McNamara’s ear and as one writer wrote, “his blind confidence.”253 OSA 

was accused of undermining the role of the military, tactical, and strategic 

decisions, and taking over functions of the JCS.254 Politicians and military 

leaders demanded its dissolution.255 According to an article in Navy Magazine, OSA “effectively smothered the JCS and the services when it came to 

policy recommendations. It kept the Army, Navy, and Air Force staffs buried 
53

in studies, restudies, and more studies.”256 On 27 March 1969, Congressman 

Rivers warned Laird: “as sure as the sun rises in the heavens and you are sitting on that seat, if you retain this organization, you are headed for trouble, 

and with this committee.”257 In May 1969, Rivers sent a stern letter to Packard, 

writing: “I will not be satisfied with the manner in which OSA functions until 

I have absolute proof in my hands that that office has not wittingly or unwittingly taken over the functions of the JCS.”258 Laird and Packard faced a tough 

decision—would they abolish the office?

Packard did not reply for three weeks. When he finally wrote to Rivers, the 

DEPSEC made clear he would not bring in an outsider to run OSA. Instead, 

he appointed a current systems analyst, Dr. Ivan Selin, as “acting assistant 

secretary” for OSA and reported he “was very well satisfied with the way he 

has been working with me.” Packard assured Rivers that he would not decide 

on important issues where there was disagreement between OSA and the 

military without allowing the services and JCS to present their case. Two days 

later, on 28 May, Rivers warned Packard: “I am not at all satisfied with your 

reply.” Rivers demanded “proof,” not promises.259 Selin served as assistant secretary for OSA until Dr. Gardiner L. Tucker, a veteran DOD official, filled the 

post permanently in December 1969.260

Despite the disappointment expressed by Rivers, military leaders responded positively to the new direction of OSA chartered by Packard. “Now 

the military people, the so-called experts in weapon warfare can come forward,” said one Air Force general. “We’ll get better weapons for our money.”261

The military also admitted that OSA forced the military services to adopt 

modern computer technology so they could match wits with them, perhaps 

one of the most significant benefits of the McNamara era.262 Even those within 

OSA admitted “there’s good reason for change. The past system was not ideal.” 

Many within OSD felt OSA could have a decisive role within the Nixon administration. An anonymous official rationalized: “OSA can still have an impact if Laird and Packard are willing to give weight to the office’s advice.”263

Packard’s handling of the OSA dilemma provided insight into the roles and 

responsibilities he expected of specific organizations and positions. Packard 

saw the services as organizations responsible for initiating their studies regarding force levels, military strategy, and for carrying out the development of 

new weapons, arms, vehicles, ships, and aircraft. Packard then relied on OSA 

to analyze and evaluate those studies on his behalf. While the services focused 

on development work on current projects and programs, Packard leaned on 

the office of the DDR&E, Dr. John Foster, to provide top policy advice and 

concentrate on research efforts reaching further into the future. The precise 

delineation of lines of roles responsibility within the services and OSD 
54

reflected Packard’s attempts to mirror the approach he found success with at 

HP. This included decentralizing power among the services—just as he decentralized power among his divisions at HP—and building partnerships 

with highly capable individuals—just as he had done with Bill Hewlett at HP 

and Fred Terman at Stanford.

Although Laird and Packard decided to keep OSA intact, they made significant changes in OSA’s roles and responsibilities within OSD resource 

management. Packard revised the Planning, Programming, and Budgeting 

System (PPBS) in October 1969. In simple terms, OSD kept OSA intact while 

increasing the services’ role in PPBS via a mechanism known as the POM. As 

one article noted: “The men at Systems Analysis found temporary solace in 

his answer. But as one official noted, Systems Analysis is now the only Pentagon office still operating with a temporary director, and Laird seems in no 

hurry to fill the position permanently.”264 OSD’s changes enabled the military 

departments, the JCS, and defense agencies to comment on the initial fiscal 

guidance and receive revised fiscal guidance during a collaborative process 

with the service secretaries. Such a process was formulated based on feedback from OSD staff, the JCS, and service secretaries.265 In contrast, McNamara used basic force planning documents prepared by OSA, known as 

Draft Presidential Memoranda (DPM). While the DPM remained, Packard 

stripped OSD and OSA of the authority to initiate proposals and shifted 

power back to the services by granting them a charter to initiate analytical 

documents known as the POM. Starting with the FY1972 budget, OSD staff 

reviewed the POMs before Laird or Packard made decisions.266 Packard and 

Laird retained OSA in an advisory capacity, leveraging their robust analytical capabilities to review quantitative requirements for forces, weapons, 

equipment, and personnel recommended by the services and JCS. They also 

reviewed service and JCS recommendations, and participated in reviews of 

the Five-Year Defense Program.267

Similar to the DSARC, the POM was not a novel idea. In a dinner speech 

made before The Aerospace Industries Association in Williamsburg, Virginia, 

on 22 May 1969, Packard explained the two-stage approach suggested by Secretary James Forrestal in 1948. In the first stage, the JCS prepared their force 

structure plan— “what they believed to be necessary to properly carry out 

their military missions.” In the second stage, the plan was vetted through budgetary constraints to achieve an agreed upon plan within an acceptable budget. Although Secretary Forrestal proposed this process, Packard believed 

little progress was made toward actual implementation. Packard felt McNamara’s approach relied too much on systems analysis and cost-effectiveness 

principles. Packard suggested that the services continue systems analysis and 
55

cost-effectiveness studies while also recognizing that “all problems are not 

solved with analytical procedures alone.” 268 Packard’s ability to learn from 

Secretary Forrestal’s experience and recognize that a viable solution was identified 20 years earlier but not effectively implemented speaks volumes of 

Packard’s leadership style. Both the DSARC and POM illustrate that Packard 

was not as focused on developing his solutions as he was on identifying practical solutions elsewhere and applying them to a situation at hand. Both Laird 

and Packard understood that if their reform efforts were going to have any 

chance of succeeding, despite how elegant the solution, the primary challenge 

was implementation. Laird and Packard believed that those who are involved 

with the implementation of a decision should participate in the decisionmaking process, as they would be much more likely to do a good job than if 

the decision was dictated to them.269 Laird called this approach “participatory 

management” while Packard referred to it as “management by objective.”270

Packard once commented, “in private business I never had to make day-today decisions, my job was picking people to make them. I never felt I had to 

stay close to the telephone.”271 Similar to DSARC, implementing POM enabled Packard to “kill another two birds with one stone;” he retained a proven 

analytical capability within the OSD staff while defusing one of the main 

points of friction between the services and OSD.272

Concurrent to the reduction in OSA authority, Laird and Packard implemented additional mechanisms to ease the transition of responsibility and 

workload to the services. For example, the Development Concept Paper (DCP) 

was a document developed by the services to capture the overall plan of a program, including certain thresholds which alerted DOD management when a 

program got out of bounds.273 To minimize technological risk on future programs, Packard asked the services to submit DCPs to OSD to review for all 

major acquisition programs. This addressed attention to risk assessment, system and hardware proofing, and trade-offs. Risk assessment relied on technical 

experts to assess program risk by looking at technical solutions, alternatives, 

and consequences of failure. The DCP ensured the services conducted systems 

and hardware proofing consisting of actual engineering design and component testing to demonstrate that technical risks had been eliminated or at least 

reduced to a reasonable level, ideally through a complete system prototype. 

Finally, the DCP showed how trade-offs would be made throughout the development of weapon design and testing.274 DCPs provided OSD assurance that 

the services were developing the adequate capability to establish and manage 

defense programs without the direct involvement of OSA.

Efforts to delegate authority to the services also benefited from the existence of OSA throughout the 1960s. One top Army official attributed Laird 
56

and Packard’s success in decentralizing decision-making to the services partly 

as a byproduct of McNamara’s legacy: “It was because we developed large 

numbers of trained systems analysts within the services to survive McNamara’s Pentagon,” said the Army official, “that we’re really equipped today to 

work up well-balance, well-argued programs under the new decentralization.”275

Within this context, OSA served as an unpopular but useful forceful function 

that compelled the services to develop more robust in-house planning and 

analytical capacity.

During Laird and Packard’s tenure, other significant changes occurred 

within the Air Force’s procurement process. Of note, Laird and Packard 

streamlined the source selection process by abolishing the secretary’s “Selection Advisory Council,” a 10-member group that would travel to review ongoing aircraft source evaluations at Wright-Patterson AFB. The abolishment of 

the Selection Advisory Council eliminated the risk of leaks, lobbying, and any 

“advice,” which may have influenced Wright-Patterson AFB’s evaluation process. Seamans reported the results of the source evaluation group to Laird and 

Packard, recalling that they “never questioned the outcome from a political 

standpoint.”276 When once asked if political pressure plays a part in deciding 

which company gets which contract, Packard answered: “Categorically no. 

Contractors do not have an influence on what force level [the DOD] approves, 

what weapon system [the DOD] approves, or the selection of a contractor.”277

The DPRC: A Third Cog Falls into Place . . . 

Validated Requirements

In October 1969, a third cog of the LP acquisition machine fell into place. 

The Nixon administration established the DPRC, part of the NSC, in October 

1969. The NSC’s Defense Program Review Committee was created to deal 

with questions of strategic doctrine, diplomacy and resource allocation within 

the entire federal government. Therefore, it was designed to act as the final 

arbiter of proposals for new weapons. The committee would not question the 

design of a new weapon, such as an advanced manned bomber but rather if 

one was needed.278 National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger chaired the 

committee, and it also included Packard, Under Secretary of State Elliott 

Richardson, Budget Director Robert P. Mayo, Chairman of the JCS, Gen Earle 

Wheeler, Chairman of the Council of Economic Advisors, Paul W. McCracken, and CIA Director Richard Helms.279 Packard reiterated, as he often 

did, that the defense problem should be considered in terms of both domestic 

and defense priorities.
57

The DPRC provided the acquisition system with validated war fighter 

needs, such as the need for a new submarine, tank, or bomber. Within the 

context of the three legs of the modern acquisition decision support system, 

the DPRC became the precursor to today’s requirement management system 

(currently Joint Capabilities Integration and Development System). The POM 

enhanced the resource management system (the present-day Planning, Programming, Budgeting, and Execution (PPBE) process), and the DSARC became the precursor to the MDA within the program management system. 

Thus, Laird and Packard managed a complete overhaul on the acquisition 

system within a year of their arrival by rebuilding a single cog system (OSA) 

with reduced or arguably absent OSD-military interfaces into to an overarching framework of three interlocking decision systems with mechanisms to 

interface with relevant military stakeholders.

Part V: Packard’s Program by Program 

Approach to Reform

As the cogs of Packard’s new acquisition machine fell into place, Packard 

steadily began to implement his ideas on reforms, changing the way the Pentagon structured contracts and bought weapon systems one program at a 

time. Rather than allocating large amounts of the defense budget toward a 

limited number of markedly complex or ambitious designs, Packard began to 

hedge the DOD’s bets by investing in a more diverse portfolio of options. 

Contracts for the development of new programs stood in stark contrast to 

their predecessors, such as the MBT-70, F-111, and C-5A. Rather than complex and concurrent approaches to acquisition, Packard implemented a sequential approach and refused to commit the DOD to production until the 

component technologies demonstrated sufficient maturity. He championed 

simplicity, reliability, maintainability, and above all, affordability. Packard recognized the inevitability of design changes that occurred during the crucible 

of development and armed the DOD’s program managers with authority necessary to make trade-offs and keep programs moving forward. Most importantly, Packard looked for ways to creatively maintain competition at the system or subsystem level throughout the development phase. Packard explained: 

“I can take a couple systems, see if the procedures work there, see if those few 

are running right, then build from that—rather than restructuring the whole 

weapon system all at once.”280

Packard arrived at the Pentagon on the heels of the DOD’s award of the 

F-14 contract to Grumman, so he had limited impact on its initial trajectory. 
58

The F-14 represented yet another failed attempt to use concurrency as a 

means to accelerate the acquisition cycle, but at the same time, the concurrent 

approach enabled the Navy and Grumman to achieve their ultimate goal of 

avoiding program cancellation. The US Navy cleverly exploited a narrow 

nine-month window of opportunity between the departure of McNamara in 

March 1968 and the arrival of Packard in late January 1969 to escape the 

F-111 program and move forward with their desired weapon system, a new 

swept-wing carrier-based fighter aircraft called the F-14. Four days after the 

departure of McNamara, the Senate Armed Services Committee canceled the 

carrier variant of the F-111 program, the F-111B.281 The Navy seized the opportunity, accelerating the standard four-month approval period for an RFP 

to only 10 days.282 The Navy received proposals from five contractors in October 1968 and narrowed the field to two competitors by 5 January 1969. Six 

days before Richard Nixon’s inauguration on 20 January, the US Navy and 

Grumman agreed to a fixed-price-incentive-firm (FPIF) contract, which was 

a variant of the TPP strategy developed under McNamara.283 Under the FPIF 

approach, the first year’s production of aircraft was designated for research 

and development, while the next seven years were allocated for production. 

Original schedules called for the production of 66 aircraft before the Navy’s 

final tests were complete.284 As Jon E. McIver wrote, “the [F-14] contract timelines were strict. The pressure to make up for the lost years in the F-111 generated the requirement to produce the F-14 in 24 months. To speed the process 

further, Navy testing and evaluation of the F-14 was not scheduled to begin 

until the aircraft was in production.”285

Within two weeks of Packard’s arrival, the RDT&E contract was signed on 

3 February 1969. It stipulated that Grumman first build six R&D aircraft before the Navy would commit itself to a possible 463 production models through 

firm ceiling prices negotiable downward only. The production rate of the F-14 

was to be limited to one per month for the first 18 months to complete necessary developmental testing.286 Although a step in the right direction, Packard 

felt the terms of the F-14 were weak from the start, and wanted to revisit them 

to create a “clear separation” between development and production. 287

Unsurprisingly, the F-14 shared a fate similar to the C-5A and F-111 programs. In September 1969, seven months after signing the F-14 contract, 

Grumman’s president expressed concern over contractual commitments in 

production lots.288 In July 1970, Grumman alluded to financial difficulties.289 In 

January 1971, Grumman messaged that they might be unable to deliver F-14s 

at the contractually agreed to price.290 However, Packard held firm on enforcing the terms of the contract. In April 1971, Packard explained: “it might be 

disruptive now, but I believe in the long run we will come out with a better 
59

system at less cost.”291 On 27 July 1971, Packard requested that Grumman commit to the production of 48 aircraft for Lot IV. Grumman agreed to build the 

aircraft at a loss.292 Although this series of events appears to have illustrated the 

capabilities of the DEPSEC in the short run, Grumman got their way in the 

long run. While Grumman initially accepted the loss of $105 million in 1971, 

they simply waited until Packard left the Pentagon to renegotiate the F-14 contract in 1974. Congress allowed Grumman to renegotiate at the five-year point 

in 1974—vice waiting for the contracted eight-year period initially— increasing the unit cost of the F-14 from $9.7 million to $17.9 million each.293

Meanwhile, in 1972, US Navy and Grumman personnel embarked on the 

Herculean task of producing flyable hardware in just two years and getting 

production aircraft into service within four years.294 The pace was hectic. In 

December 1970, the F-14 program encountered a significant challenge. Less 

than two weeks after achieving its first flight, smoke began to billow from the 

F-14 in-flight as its primary hydraulic system failed early into its second flight 

test.295 The test pilots safely ejected on the final approach after unsuccessfully 

battling a divergent longitudinal oscillation. The loss of the first F-14 in only 

its second flight test placed additional strain on the flight test program.

From the perspective of the US Navy, however, the concurrent approach 

for the F-14 came with its advantages. Two months before the F-14 ever took 

flight, in October 1970, the Navy placed its first order for 26 production aircraft.296 Of critical significance, the production decision substantially decreased the possibility the program would be canceled. Many politicians and 

civilian experts in the Pentagon did not understand why the Navy and Air 

Force could not agree on universal design, inferring that a lighter and cheaper 

F-15 should be selected.297 As aviation historian Mike Spick later wrote, “again 

the historical lesson that the process of converting a land-based fighter for 

carrier operations involved so much structural redesign, as to make the exercise self-defeating, was being ignored.”298

Therefore, for the US Navy, concurrency was a rational approach to countering opponents to the program as it minimized chances of the program being canceled and getting entangled in another joint fiasco, such as the F-111 

program. Laird also remained an adamant supporter: the Tomcat was the aircraft that the Navy wanted.299 Thus, senior leaders within the Navy were not 

as concerned with cost overruns, delayed delivery, and the inevitability of significant retrofits, as they were with getting the weapon system they wanted. 

Given the circumstances, the US Navy was willing to gamble significant resources and make a production decision on a design that existed only on paper. Similarly, the contractor, Grumman, incurred significant risk in agreeing 

to the terms of the contract, but concurrency virtually guaranteed them a 
60

production contract entering a decade where production contracts would be 

hard to come by. Besides, Packard’s philosophy of holding the defense industry accountable to their contractual obligations was not likely anticipated by 

either the defense industry or the services.

The absence of viable alternatives to weapon systems under development 

placed defense contractors in a position of maximum leverage and control, 

namely because their products represented significant importance to the security of the nation. Because large, concurrent programs inherently left senior 

leaders without alternatives or other options, everyone in the situation was 

mainly held hostage and forced to reach a compromise. This was usually in 

the form of Congress paying for overruns and the services tolerating schedule 

delays. Packard understood very early in his tenure that increased competition would be the only option to provide OSD with more leverage in such 

situations, but the bigger question was how to create competition within a 

system that opposed it.

Packard started his reform movement with the S-3A, F-15, B-1, and 

AWACS programs. Packard’s first move was to clench the coveted production 

decision much tighter than his predecessors. On 1 August 1969, the Navy announced a contract to build six research and development Lockheed S-3A 

aircraft, with an option to procure 193 production models contingent upon a 

successful development phase.300 The S-3A contract illustrated how Packard 

desired a clear break between weapon system development and production.

A similar approach was taken for the Air Force’s air superiority fighter program, the F-15. On 31 December 1969, the Air Force contracted McDonnell 

Douglas to fabricate an initial 20 aircraft for developmental testing only with 

Pratt and Whitney engines supplied by the DOD. Until the F-15 met technical 

milestones, the Air Force could defer commitment to production.301 A costplus-incentive-fee (CPIF) contract covered design, development, test, and 

test support, while a fixed-price-incentive-with-successive-targets (FPIS) 

contract covered test aircraft, test support equipment, spare parts, and ground 

support equipment to support the test program. The first wing of 107 operational aircraft would also be produced under an FPIS contract.302 To increase 

pressure on the F-14 program by pursuing other options, in July 1971, Laird 

asked the Navy to investigate the possibility of an F-15SN, a carrier variant for 

the F-15, as well as improved F-4s.303 For Packard and Laird, the F-15SN and 

improved F-4s represented potential leverage points for making the F-14 program more responsive and an indirect way of leveraging competition to drive 

a favorable decision-making environment for senior leaders.

The “fly-before-you-buy” approach was also used on the B-1 program. 

On 5 June 1970, the Air Force announced a B-1 contract. North American 
61

Rockwell was to provide five flight test aircraft, one static test airframe, and 

one fatigue test airframe. Meanwhile, GE was separately contracted to develop and fabricate 40 “preliminary-flight-rated-test” engines. Thus, the engines were primarily seen as government-furnished equipment by the integrator, Rockwell.304 Of note, an avionics contractor was not awarded, and 

promises were not made on whether the B-1 would be authorized for production.305 Avionics were eventually split into two packages, offensive and 

defensive. Boeing was selected to integrate the offensive avionics in April 

1972 and Cutler-Hammer secured the contract for the defensive avionics 

system in January 1974.306

Finally, Boeing was authorized to begin work on Phase I of the AWACS 

program. The objective of Phase I aimed to reconfigure two standard fourengine 707-320 transports to carry competing random designs. If approved, 

Phase II would contract Boeing to build five prototypes under a full-scale 

development schedule. If approved, Phase III would cover the production of 

42 aircraft. For the AWACS program, Phase I and Phase II, advanced development and prototyping, were CPIF contracts, while the Phase III production 

contract was FPIS.307 Packard set the tone—in direct contrast to TPP—and a 

flurry of contracts without promises of production and minimal concurrency 

emerged from the Pentagon.

Packard’s personality and leadership style in the Pentagon emerged through 

his interaction with these programs. Packard’s candor and blunt honesty surprised many inside the Beltway. According to a man who knew him well, 

“Dave hasn’t an ounce of guile in his body. He is very direct, very frank, even 

when it would be to his advantage to shade the truth.”308 “Packard can be devastating if he decides your ideas are foolish or parochial,” recalled an Air Force 

general. Packard had a reputation for stopping debates once he had heard 

enough: “You haven’t made a case—and that’s that.”309 Packard was a strong 

leader and made it clear who was in charge. A Navy official who opposed a 

Packard decision against his service was told: “We’re not here to decide what 

to do; we’re here to decide how to do it.”310 The comment reflected Packard’s 

focus on implementation.

A reporter once stopped Packard in the hall and asked him what President 

Nixon meant when he said the administration’s goal was a “sufficiency” of 

arms. Packard responded: “It means that it’s a good word to use in a speech. 

Beyond that, it doesn’t mean a damned thing.”311 Packard was not without 

critics; some feared his management practices would lead to too much military and not enough civilian influence. Others claimed that Packard was not 

as good a listener as he was sometimes described: “not infrequently, he cuts 

off someone after hearing only 30% of the facts,” claimed one critic. 312
62

In Packard’s view, trade-offs between specifications, schedule, and cost 

were an inescapable aspect of weapon system development. Within the DOD, 

Packard believed the pendulum had swung too far toward the pursuit of rigid 

performance and specifications. He sought to bring cost and schedule considerations to the forefront by setting a clear expectation that program managers 

should accept reasonable trade-offs in system performance to achieve cost 

and schedule objectives. Unlike the F-111 and C-5A TPP contracts, Packard 

wanted to provide flexibility for the DOD to restructure programs that got 

bogged down during development by capitalizing on the advancement of 

promising subsystems while shedding problematic subsystems. Such flexibility protected similar overruns. Thus, two critical aspects of Packard’s unfolding acquisition strategy were becoming apparent: maintain competition 

through the research and development phase and base the production decision on hardware demonstrations instead of paper studies.

Case Study: The A-X Program

A Stacked Deck: Laird’s Team Ends the Close Air Support (CAS) Debate

The close nature of the relationships between Laird, Packard, and the service secretaries came into play when brokering an interservice compromise 

between the Army and Air Force that resulted in the A-X competition. Laird’s 

free hand in appointing key positions within OSD paid tremendous dividends 

for Packard and the unified nature of Laird’s team within OSD presented a 

rare set of conditions. The team provided fertile grounds to break interservice 

stalemates, specifically the decade and a half long feud between the Army and 

Air Force regarding the CAS mission. Between 1969 and 1971, Packard brokered a deal between the secretaries of the Army and Air Force to break a 

most tenuous and long-standing interservice disagreement, giving rise to the 

A-10 Warthog.

When Packard arrived at the Pentagon, the Air Force, Army, and Marines 

were pursuing three different aircraft—the Air Force A-X, the Army AH-56 

Cheyenne helicopter, and the Marine Harrier. In total, the services looked to 

buy about 1,000 aircraft at the cost of $4 to $5 billion.313 Interservice rivalry 

over the CAS mission had grown increasingly hostile during the 1950s and 

1960s. Army commanders increasingly desired a specialized aircraft for CAS. 

Army Chief of Staff Gen George H Decker had made his stance clear in May 

1961: “The Army’s requirement is to have CAS where we need it, when we 

need it, and under a system of operational control that makes it responsive to 

Army needs.”314
63

Army commanders were still upset about Korea. During the Korean War, 

Marine aviation provided better CAS support to their ground forces than the 

Air Force provided to the Army.315 Compared to their Air Force counterparts, 

Marine Corps aviation was more responsive, loitered over targets longer, provided a higher density of support to their ground forces, and could deliver 

munitions within closer proximity to ground forces.316 In the aftermath of the 

Korean War, however, President Eisenhower resolved that the United States 

would never again get bogged down in another limited war and prioritized 

the development of strategic nuclear forces by tailoring the armed forces to 

meet an all-out nuclear exchange. General conventional war became a secondary consideration.317

However, as prospects of limited war increased and the concept of flexible 

response emerged, the CAS debate grew increasingly hostile in the early 

1960s. Divisiveness manifested itself in the form of two conflicting studies. 

The Army’s Howze Board, released in 1962, recommended that the Army 

procure armed helicopters and fixed-wing assault transports, to create air assault divisions with organic air support capabilities. The Air Force’s Disosway 

Board disagreed, concluding that “armed assault helicopters simply could not 

function in a high threat environment” and that the Army did not take into 

consideration the “full capabilities of the USAF.”318 In February 1963, McNamara attempted to broker a compromise between the services by ordering a 

joint Army-Air Force study. The study covered five areas: Tactics, techniques, 

and procedures, training and indoctrination, resources, command anc control relationships (C2), and type of aircraft.

The joint CAS group was unable to reach an agreement on the latter two 

issues, C2 or the type of aircraft. The Army wanted a decentralized C2 system, 

whereby the ground commander could rely on the supporting aircraft without worrying whether the aircraft might be ordered elsewhere. Meanwhile 

USAF commanders wanted the authority to designate target priorities in support of theater-level or strategic level objectives, scheduling and controlling 

air assets accordingly. The Army wanted slower aircraft, with the capability to 

locate and destroy small, hidden, or fleeing targets and loiter time over the 

target for an extended period. Conversely, the Air Force preferred a more 

versatile, multi-role type of aircraft that could handle each of its tactical air 

missions: counterair, interdiction, and CAS. The Air Force was particularly 

concerned about helicopter vulnerability in the battle zone.319 The stalemate 

persisted as Laird and Packard took office in 1969.

Within 18 months on the job, Packard broke the stalemate. First, Packard 

canceled the production contract for the Cheyenne in May 1969 because of 

rotor stability problems.320 By canceling only the production contract, Packard 
64

essentially enabled Lockheed and the Army to continue working the rotor stability issues and other technical challenges until August 1972. However, the 

cancellation simultaneously ensured the Army would be unable to procure 

organic rotary-wing CAS capability in production anytime in the near-term.

Next, in January 1970, Packard made his most significant move when he 

ordered that the secretary of the Army and secretary of the Air Force develop 

a “unified DOD position” to resolve the CAS debate.321 In March 1970, two 

months after ordering the Army and Air Force to compromise, a joint memorandum was signed by the Secretary of the Army Stan Resor and the Secretary 

of the Air Force, Dr. Robert Seamans. They agreed to move forward on the 

A-X program. Packard correctly identified that a compromise could be 

reached more effectively through a negotiation between the service secretaries rather than attempting to strong-arm the service chiefs. Seamans recalled 

in his memoir:

Interservice rivalry [on CAS] was intense. Two service secretaries entered this arena 

where angels should fear to tread. I met with my counterpart, Stan Resor, secretary of 

the Army. We agreed that a fixed-wing, close-support aircraft, the A-X was probably 

needed, and that the Air Force should be responsible for its development. A simple 

memorandum of understanding to this effect was signed by both parties.322

The backlash from the services was significant. The A-X program satisfied 

neither the Air Force, who loathed the prospect of a CAS-specific aircraft 

within their inventory, nor the Army, who still wanted their platform. Seamans wrote: “General Ryan wanted me to rescind the memo by claiming I 

didn’t understand the impact of my actions. Stan Resor received similar recrimination from General William Westmoreland, the Army chief of staff, 

who claimed he was giving away the store.” 323 The requirements for the A-X 

included ease of maintenance in the field, durability, and an armored cockpit 

to protect the pilot against small armed, the aircraft design wrapped around a 

powerful 30-mm Gatling gun.

The final RFP was issued in May 1970, and the USAF selected Northrop 

and Fairchild to build A-X prototypes.324 In line with Packard’s intent, the AX’s weapon was also selected via a competitive prototype evaluation. Four 

companies responded to the GAU-8 RFP, a 30mm weapon with 4,000 rounds/

min rate of fire. A high muzzle velocity (3,500ft/sec) to make up lost impact 

energy was desired, as 30mm was smaller than earlier airborne anti-tank 

guns.325 The RFP for the A-X itself focused on survivability, simplicity, and a 

“design to cost” approach, where the contractor could increase weight and 

decrease performance to meet cost targets.326 Except for the gun, the A-X did 
65

not use any new or untried technology. Six companies initially responded to 

the A-X RFP, and the USAF selected two for a competitive “fly-off.”

In the summer of 1972, The Northrop YA-9 and Fairchild YA-10 competed 

for 284 flight test hours in a several month competition. In January 1973, 

Seamans’s successor, John McLucas declared the Fairchild A-10 the winner 

and provided funding for 10 preproduction test aircraft. Seamans recalled: 

“Fairchild not only won the fly-off, but their aircraft with two outboard engines was given high marks for maintainability.”327 The announcement drew 

criticism from Senator Lowell Weicker from Connecticut—the home of Lycoming and the engine manufacturer of the A-9—accused Gov Nelson Rockefeller of New York and Vice President Spiro Agnew of undue influence since 

Fairchild was located on Long Island and nearby Washington in Maryland.328

In January 1973, the GE TF-34 was selected over the Avco Lycoming F-102 to 

power the new aircraft. Although the F-102 was being offered at a considerably lower price than the TF34, the GE engine was three years into a full-scale 

development program and also being looked at to power the Boeing AWACS 

(using eight TF34s, an idea later dropped).329 Three days before the decision 

on the airframe and engine was announced, two GAU-8A prototypes began 

extensive competitions, with both guns until a firing rate of 4,000 rounds/min 

was achieved. In June 1973, GE was awarded the Phase 2 GAU-8 development 

contract. Full-scale production of the A-10 began in 1975.330 Meanwhile, the 

purchase of Harriers from the British was reduced from 112 to 60.331

The 1970 joint decision between the Army and Air Force enabled the A-X 

to move into development while the Cheyenne would cease at the end of the 

prototyping stage even though the Army continued to pursue a production 

contract on the Cheyenne for nearly three additional years. However, Packard 

refused to sign an official termination order for the Cheyenne, even when 

Pentagon officials who worked the issue approached Packard with a draft of 

the order. Packard explained his approach:

Have you ever herded cattle? When you herd cattle, you spend a lot of time going over 

the range rounding them up. After a lot of work, you get alongside the corral fence. 

Then, acting real cool, you have somebody open the gate kind of slowly. Pretty soon, one 

of those doggies walks into the corral, and then the rest of ‘em follow in. And you’re 

done. But, sure as hell, if you try to push them, they’ll scatter all over the fence and you 

have to do it again. I think we have them alongside the corral fence. Just wait a little 

longer.332

Within a few weeks, the Army told Packard they were ready to consider 

giving up on the Cheyenne, and in August 1972, the program was finally 

killed by officially closing the door on AH-56 production.
66

Packard’s decision, combined with the difficulties encountered by the military during the Vietnam War, contributed toward the Air Force and Army 

confronting and reconciling their long-standing grievances. Six months after 

McLucas announced the A-10 as the winner of the A-X competition— compounded with dissatisfaction over its performance in Vietnam— in July 1973, 

the Army established Training and Doctrine Command (TRADOC). It’s mission was chartered to better integrate its doctrine with the Air Force.333 TRADOC located its headquarters at Fort Monroe, a 30-minute drive from Tactical Air Command (TAC) Headquarters at Langley AFB, Virginia. The 

combination of the A-10 and TRADOC paved the way for new dialog between TAC-TRADOC. This was a new reality both services faced now that 

TAC would come to own the CAS and interdiction capability upon which the 

Army’s ground operations would rely on in battle.334 The 1976 edition of FM100-5, reflected the cultural shift that happened in the wake of the A-X decision with the Army conceding: “the Army cannot win the land battle without 

the Air Force.”335 Conversely, “development of the A-10 ground attack aircraft 

represented the most tangible and, in many ways, most significant indicator 

of the Air Force’s commitment to air-ground operations between Vietnam 

and Desert Shield.”336

Although Packard was not completely satisfied with the final format of the 

A-X competition, it foreshadowed the shape of the Advanced Prototypes Initiatives coming in the next year. Packard opined that excessively constrained 

A-X requirements may have prevented the submittal of a turbo-prop entry: “I 

think there is something to be said about our probably having a little bit more 

uniformity in the two entries in this program than we’d like.”337 For future 

competitions, Packard desired contracts that allowed the contractor the flexibility and authority to make design changes and to later do something different if thought to be a better idea. He said let the new design “stand or fall in 

the demonstration.”338 As Packard would demonstrate in 1971, the A-X competition was merely a sample of what was to come:

Now, on the question of getting greater technological innovation, we’re looking at another approach that may be better [than going out on a standard RFP]. I think we possible should go out and get a reasonable number of unsolicited proposals against some 

very general statements of the problem: then hopefully we’ll get two or three significantly different responses which we can prove out through hardware, not paperwork.339

Packard’s template for procurement was clear. He generated options by facilitating hardware-centric competition across multi-dimensions of a weapon 

system. The A-X essentially represented three separate prototyping competitions: the aircraft itself, the weapon (GAU-8), and the propulsion system. The 
67

RFP provided room for weight growth, the ability for the contractor to trade 

performance to achieve cost goals, and prized simplicity and survivability. 

Additionally, the USAF reflected wisdom in their selection of a proven propulsion system, the GE TF-34, despite promises of “cheaper” designs that had 

yet to be built. The volume of discontent within the acquisition system remained steady throughout the competition—with the sources of discontent 

merely shifting to other stakeholders within the system—specifically from the 

losing companies and politicians. However, from Packard’s vantage, OSD and 

the DOD were slowly regaining control of the defense acquisition system. As 

pilot and co-pilot of the defense acquisition system, the A-X competition was 

analogous to a controllability check and one in which Packard demonstrated 

how to create conditions for the system to respond to pilot inputs effectively.

Case Study: The B-1 Program

Applying Packard’s Principles to a Highly Complex, 

Niche Weapon System

The B-1 program demonstrated how Packard’s principles could be applied 

to a highly complex, niche weapon system that was not anticipated to produce 

a sufficient volume of orders to warrant a full prototype competition. A month 

after the NSC established the Defense Program Review Committee in October 1969, the Air Force released an RFP in for a new strategic bomber, the 

B-1. Packard left his mark on the RFP for the B-1 program. “According to the 

word floating around the Pentagon and industry, the original proposed RFP 

was one of the largest paper monsters ever produced.”340 Packard went through 

the document and removed a significant amount of what he felt were unnecessary wasteful Air Force requests. General Ferguson, commander AFSC 

stated: “I can’t say how much he scratched out with his own hand; but we did 

make a presentation to him on a simplified RFP in which we had removed an 

awful lot of the documentation.”341 Packard did not have tolerance for paperwork: “I don’t want to cite any one project, but I will say this. There’s too damn 

much paperwork. In one case, paperwork accounted for 30% of the program’s 

total cost.”342 On the B-1 RFP, Packard recalled: “I scratched a few things out 

to get them started, but my approach is to encourage those who are directly 

involved to look at these things because they’re the ones who have to decide 

whether it’s needed.”343 Packard questioned the need for including details on 

final test and support procedures and spare parts in the draft B-1 RFP, explaining: “the contractor would have had to go through this big exercise on 

how he going to do all that, when, instead, he ought to be allowed to direct his 
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full attention to making a better airplane. All the detailed paperwork that 

needs to be done down the line should be done at an appropriate time.” 344

On 5 June 1970, Secretary of the Air Force Robert C. Seamans announced 

the selection of North American Rockwell Corporation and the GE Company 

as winners of the airframe and propulsion contracts. Boeing, General Dynamics, and North American Rockwell competed for the airframe contract, 

while GE and Pratt and Whitney competed for the propulsion system contract. The CPIF contract was signed only for the engineering development 

phase of the B-1 Advanced Strategic Bomber which was consistent with Packard’s “fly-before-you-buy” approach. The DOD announced: “today’s action 

does not authorize any production.”345

Rockwell provided five flight test aircraft, one static test airframe, and one 

fatigue test airframe (later reduced to three), while GE developed and fabricated 40 “preliminary-flight-rated-test” engines (later reduced to 27).346 Of 

note, an avionics contractor was not awarded. Brig Gen Guy S. Townsend of 

AFSC was named program manager.347 Packard issued a memorandum to Dr. 

Seamans on the same day reaffirming, “The [B-1] authorization is for development programs only. A decision has not been made whether the B-1 will be 

authorized for production, when production might be authorized, or what 

level of production will be authorized.”348

The DEPSEC concluded the memorandum by giving guidance to the secretary of the Air Force that other factors, such as the progress of SALT talks 

and the progress and success of the engineering development program would 

factor into the production decision.”349 Packard understood that production 

tooling for large and complicated systems, such as the airframe and propulsion systems for any modern aircraft required significant investment and lead 

time. The “fly-before-you-buy” approach provided programs flexibility in the 

development phase, which was essential in meeting the key objective of research and development. When a program reaches the point of asking the 

DOD for a go ahead on production, it will be justified both on cost and equipment performance against an accepted military need.350 This approach also 

offered the opportunity to stretch out programs to survive the cuts in defense 

spending. Packard recognized the challenges in delaying the award of production contracts, particularly concerning big programs, such as the B-1 program. Packard stated:

[The DOD] can’t realistically expect [the defense contractor] to make such huge investments if they aren’t going to get the production contract. However, even on these big 

programs we will have a good deal of control on costs. As much as 50% of these programs are made up of subcomponents. Here we’ll use competitive bidding.351
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The decision to initiate development of the B-1 program demonstrated 

how Packard viewed OSD’s role in defense procurement. He divided the Pentagon’s management problems into two areas: decision-making and implementation. “The prime decision has to do with what the national security 

commitments are and the forces needed to meet those commitments.” Packard explained: “Re-establishment of the NSC machinery has enabled the government to address these problems in a much more effective way than in the 

past, not only to look at security but to relate the cost of defense to other 

nondefense priorities and relate further to the resources of the government.”352

Within the NSC, the DPRC enabled critical defense issues to be laid out for 

the NSC and decided upon at the White House. The revision of the PPBE 

brought the JCS and the services more clearly into the process, “so that we can 

have the benefit of professional military advice to help guide our decisions, 

which are based, in turn, on the broad strategic guidance decisions made by 

NSC and the president.” 353 While the A-X competition reflected Packard’s 

ability to quell long-standing interservice rivalries, the B-1 provided a template for how to keep design teams productive as well as how to incubate and 

slowly mature technologies during declining budgets.

Although the Carter administration did not approve the B-1A for production in June 1977 (the production decision made by DSARC III), the DOD 

awarded sufficient RDT&E funds to keep the flight test program going and 

continued to mature component technologies until January 1981.354 Full-scale 

development and Lot I production was awarded on 20 January 1982. Advancements made by industry teams on the propulsion systems and the airframe during the 1970s provided an option much closer to production for the 

Reagan administration that would not have been thought possible otherwise.355 Between the first flight of the B-1A in December 1974 and April 1981, 

four B-1A prototypes accumulated 1,895.2 flight hours, more than 25,000 

hours of wind tunnel testing, and the structural article had been subjected to 

fatigue testing designed to simulate three aircraft lifetimes. Also, weapons 

tests had included the dropping of 61 B-61 inert nuclear weapons and two 

missiles.356 Therefore, when SECDEF Caspar Weinberger looked for options 

in 1982, the Pentagon benefited significantly from the seed planted 12 years 

earlier by Packard.

In 1971, Packard provided insight into his greenhouse approach to acquisition. During an interview with Business Week, Packard posited that if three or 

four top-notch aerospace design teams each received $25 million annually 

that they could turn out flying models of new airplanes about every two years. 

The Pentagon would award production contracts for superior aircraft, and the 

teams that lost would be kept together to try again for another aircraft project. 
70

According to Packard, “we have got to hold the best design teams together.”357

Packard’s ideas essentially meant enabling the defense industry to scale Lockheed’s Skunk Works like models to a much broader and competitive level. Of 

significance, Packard did not envision this type of approach to acquisition as 

a reactionary one, instead it was one that was contingent on international 

dynamics. The purpose of developmental programs was not to proceed into 

production, but rather provide options to future decision makers to draw 

upon during direr circumstances.

The Packard Memo and DODD 5000.1: 

Turning Experience into Policy

A good many things that I say on this policy guidance are just plain 

statements of what good management is.

-David Packard

On 13 July 1971, Packard signed a seven-page policy titled “Acquisition of 

Major Defense Systems” in black ink.358 Numbered DODD (Department of 

Defense Directive) 5000.1, the policy applied to programs with an estimated 

RDT&E cost over $50 million or estimated production cost above $200 million.359 Among the policy’s fundamental principles:

1. [Section C.5] Progressive commitments of resources which incur program risk will be made only when confidence in program outcome is 

sufficiently high to warrant going ahead. Models, mock-ups and system hardware will be used to the greatest possible extent to increase 

confidence level.360

2. [Section C.6] It is not possible to determine the precise production cost 

of a new complex defense system before it is developed . . . when risk is 

reduced to the extent that realistic pricing can occur, fixed-price type 

contracts should be issued.361

3. [Section C.9] Documentation shall be generated in the minimum 

amount to satisfy necessary and specific management needs.362

The policy did not surprise anyone. Over a year earlier, on 28 May 1970, 

Packard issued the “Packard Memo,” which was a memorandum giving policy 

guidance on major weapon system acquisition.363 Within the memo was the 

familiar acquisition triumvirate of cost, schedule, and performance. Of these, 

the Packard Memo made it clear that cost was now king. Packard asked the 
71

service secretaries to “impress firmly on defense contractors the need for cost 

realism in their proposals and the fact that the DOD will make this point a 

major factor to be considered in source selection.”364 He requested that both 

the DOD and individual services improve their ability to make their estimates, identifying three main reasons for cost growth: first, “over-optimism;” 

second, “changes made during both the developmental phase and production 

phase of a contract;” third, “inadequate identification of the technical risks in 

major programs” because of early contract definition or advanced development work not yet mature enough for production.365

Packard met opposition within the USAF. His decree that cost was king 

and the prospect of schedule and performance trade-offs, as well as efforts to 

streamline reporting channels between OSD and program offices within Systems Command clearly irked Air Force Gen George Scratchley Brown.366

General Brown assumed command of AFSC in September 1970 and well into 

Packard’s revolution. The F-15 project manager, Brig Gen Ben Bellis had 

grown accustomed to working within flattened communication channels that 

provided a relatively high level of authority and flexibility to manage his program. However, Brown wanted to see hierarchy return: “I felt he [Bellis] was 

locking out an awful lot of possible help from our standing organization; generating ill-will instead of building goodwill by cutting a little too often across 

regular command channels.”367

In addition, Gen Brown stated his intent to minimize the trade-space offered by Packard to his project managers, stating that: “[The program managers] have certain responsibilities to me.”368 According to Brown, it was the responsibility to deliver performance and operational capability, “we expect 

from a system,” and getting the system within the schedule. Indirectly criticizing Packard’s calls for cost control, General Brown mused: “time is money.”369

When Brown met with Packard in January 1971, Brown demanded the authority to “identify losers as soon as possible and divert the funds to likely 

winners, and tell you about it after we’ve done it.”370 Clearly, Packard’s reforms 

were unsettling for many senior military leaders, as the authority traditionally 

held within positions of power, such as command, migrated toward lowerlevels within the organization. Packard wanted to improve decision-making 

by delegating authority. As General Brown’s reaction illustrated, not all of the 

Air Force’s top leadership agreed with Packard’s approach. Brown’s interview 

indicated that unlike Packard, he would not allow his program managers to 

trade off schedule and performance requirements to achieve cost goals. It appeared that with General Brown at the helm of AFSC, USAF program managers would soon be back to where they started before Packard and without the 

authority or ability to make meaningful trade-offs. Ironically, it was Packard 
72

that eased McNamara’s tight grip on new program offices and delegated authority back to the services, a decision that came with risk and reward.

Packard demanded that the services minimize changes made between the 

developmental phase and production phase of a contract by holding the services accountable to ensure system technologies were sufficiently mature before full-scale development began. This implied simplified designs that eliminated “desirable” but unnecessary features along with an increasing 

emphasis on configuration management and control. The “Packard Memo” 

demanded cost-certainty and asked the services to show zero tolerance for 

inaccurately priced design changes. Packard suggested “increasing dependence on hardware demonstration and competition, with some corresponding reduction in dependence on paper analyses.” 371 Above all, Packard 

stressed the importance of making schedule and performance trade-offs to 

maintain cost goals. During his time in the Pentagon, Packard found program cost “more dependent upon practical trade-offs between the stated operating requirements and engineering design than upon any other factor.”372

Packard’s final policy in 1971 updated and solidified guidance issued in 1970. 

Packard saw the responsibility of OSD “to approve the policies which the 

services are to follow, to evaluate the performance of the services in implementing the approved policies, and to make decisions on proceeding into the 

next phase in each major acquisition program.”373

Packard desired negotiated-fixed-price contracts for production programs 

with competitive fixed-price subcontracts to maximize the competition in the 

overall program. For developmental contracts, Packard envisioned cost-plusincentive contracts, given “the fact that it is just impossible on a big program 

and very difficult even on a small program to estimate in advance development costs.”374 Detaching advanced development and production decisions 

ensured “all new programs be kept in the concept development stages until 

the responsible service secretary, and the OSD can be assured that the program is actually in the proper shape to proceed into full-scale development.”375

Described as “obvious but necessary,” the 1970 “Packard Memo” shook the 

military-industrial-complex. “A good many things that I say on this policy 

guidance are just plain statements of what good management is,” explained 

Packard.376 Top DOD officials noted that the memo contained the combined 

thoughts of OSD, the services, and industry. Therefore, it represented “another step forward” by the DOD to improve its management. According to 

Vice Adm Vincent P. de Poix, deputy director of DDR&E (Administration, 

Evaluation, and Management), “it all gets back to the familiar triumvirate of 

cost/schedule/performance.”377 He added, “we’re not talking about tomahawks, or bows and arrows [but] highly complex weapon systems. Moreover, 
73

they have to be highly complex to meet the threat . . . working on the edge of 

technology means some of the difficulties are “almost unavoidable.”378 De Poix 

opined that the DOD needed Packard’s restatement of good management 

concepts to address three reasons that slowed defense procurement efforts: 

first, confusion of management authority; second, over-centralization; and 

third, less than satisfactory quality and education of program managers.

A considerable problem Packard faced was the dissemination of the “Packard Memo.” One well-known DOD anecdote, attributed to Eugene Fubini, 

Assistant SECDEF for Research and Development between 1963 and 1965, 

held that, “when Pentagon policy-makers issued a change in military management operating procedures, it took one year to get the word out to the 

people in the field who had to carry it out; another year for them to reorient 

their operation to the new ground rules, and a year after that before word go 

back to the Pentagon Ivory Tower that what they ordered three years earlier 

was indeed being done the way they wanted.”379

The services tended to keep private copies of such guidance within the 

confines of the corner offices of high-ranking officials. Packard explicitly directed distribution “to all key personnel including all program managers involved in the acquisition of major weapon systems.” Packard wanted all personnel across 140 principal program offices to read and internalize the 

message down to the grassroots level. According to Edward L. Ball, Jr., assistant director for engineering management under de Poix: “that’s the only 

way we are going to get the job done, and to me that’s the reason we have not 

succeeded in the past.”380 As a result of the 1970 “Packard Memo,” de Poix 

expected to see less complicated RFP requesting less sophisticated weapons, 

with more thought given to customizing and coordinating standard sections 

on reliability, maintainability, and survivability.381 De Poix also projected a 

larger share of RDT&E within the declining defense budget. Finally, Ball 

raised a more profound question: Given Packard’s effort to decentralize defense management responsibility by emphasizing the OSD/services relationship, what “if these thoughts are carried forward, what about the next level, 

the services/Contractor relationship?”382

The release of the “Packard Memo” coincided with the solidification of the 

Nixon Doctrine with NSSM-3 and NSSM-27. This ensured a global review of 

US commitments which provided the services fiscal guidance for the FY1971 

budget.383 In the summer of 1970, Nixon ordered the DOD to solidify a path 

forward to support the Nixon Doctrine. NSSM-27 assessed US commitments 

in Korea, with Nixon expecting Kissinger and the NSC to produce a plan to cut 

the number of Americans in Korea in half. Meanwhile NSSM-3 was led by 

Packard to examine alternative military strategies and the force structure and 
74

funds required to execute them.384 Although Nixon never spelled out to the 

media the findings of the study, Packard played an active role in both studies, 

therefore, he could speak to their details. The wide dissemination of the “Packard Memo” reflected Packard’s leadership approach and philosophy at HP. 

There he strived to distribute broad corporate intent to his divisions and expected all the members of his workforce to vector and tailor their efforts to 

align with the guidance. The Pentagon’s challenge was not issuing directives 

but instead successfully implementing them as Fubini’s statement illustrated. 

Either way, Packard was leaving an impression across the DOD. One news article captured the prominence of Packard’s role the Pentagon by summer 1970:

Laird, as his predecessor, is increasingly tied down on Vietnam and new issues on the 

draft and strategic arms talks with the Russians, Packard has emerged very early in his 

tenure as the central figure articulating and managing the sweeping changes being made 

in how the Pentagon conducts its business. The spotlight has also come to rest on Packard as the central Department of Defense figure in a new national policy which requires 

DOD to integrate its budget and operations with other sectors of government to a far 

greater degree than was ever attempted before.385

In an interview in August 1970, Packard spelled out the principle findings 

of Nixon’s defense study by identifying four key elements which informed the 

Pentagon on the DOD’s post-Vietnam force structure. First, strategic nuclear 

offensive weapons; second, US commitments to NATO in Western Europe; 

third, “the Asian situation” after hostilities in Southeast Asia ended; and 

fourth, “the Naval problem.”386 While the NSC conducted the study, the responsibility to steer the Pentagon in the right direction rested with OSD. 

Laird’s hands were kept full by short-term issues and he continually relied on 

Packard to keep his focus on the acquisition horizon.

The DOD did not plan to pursue the expansion of nuclear weapons programs after Vietnam, instead they aimed to maintain the present-day capabilities and programs pending the results of SALT. Packard ensured the media 

that the United States would fulfill its commitments in Western Europe 

through FY1971, but moving forward it would be “very desirable for us to 

encourage our European allies to carry a larger share of the NATO responsibility, both in terms of manpower and costs.”387 After the drawdown of US 

forces in Southeast Asia, Packard communicated a clear path of nonintervention moving forward, explaining that the study showed “our allies are capable 

of providing their own ground forces.”388 He continued: “The Nixon Doctrine 

contemplates greater reliance by Asian nations on their own manpower, with 

increased military assistance funds from us.”389 Packard explained that the 

DOD viewed the “naval program” as somewhat separate. It related that American strategic nuclear capability also involved support of forces both in Europe 
75

and in the Pacific; however, that naval priorities should shift back toward antisubmarine warfare, which directly related to the core role of the Navy to protect shipping in conventional war.390

Part VI: Packard’s Hail Mary–

the Advanced Prototyping Initiatives

I am a little concerned that with all of the 10,000 projects you already 

have, you ask the services to go back and dream up 12 or 15 more. Why 

do you have to go out and find these new deals . . .

-Senator Thomas J. McIntyre (D-NH)

Former secretary of the air force

On 6 September 1971, David Packard stood before the Senate Armed Services Committee chaired by Senator John Stennis to testify on the benefits of 

advanced prototypes.391 Ten days later, he would testify on the same subject to 

the House of Representatives.392 This series of events revealed the limits of 

Packard more than the advanced prototyping initiatives. Moreover, this series 

of events provides even more insight into his ideas on defense procurement, 

innovation, and leadership, as well as his long-term vision of the defense acquisition system as a whole.

Packard arrived at the advanced prototyping initiative hearings with members from each of the services and DDR&E, Dr. John S. Foster Jr. The Army 

and Navy presented first. Then, Brig Gen K. Chapman, Deputy Chief of Staff, 

Development Plans, AFSC, presented four prototyping concepts aimed to enhance mobility, surveillance, air combat, and stealth on behalf of the USAF.393

In all, the $67.5 million Packard requested to support 12 separate and unique 

advanced prototyping initiatives appeared insignificant and represented less 

than one percent of the FY1972 RDT&E portion of the defense budget. Packard later recalled in his memoir: “I wanted to build two prototype fighter 

planes and use the prototype system on a number of other projects. Congress 

wanted us to take the money for the prototype program out of the overall 

budget they had approved. I resisted because of the substantial cuts each service had already taken.”394

The Army, Navy, and Air Force saw Packard’s culminating effort with the 

1971 initiatives as an opportunity for innovation as defense spending was 

being reduced. As shown in Table 4, the services sought to further develop 

and mature technologies leveraging the miniaturization of and advance in 
76

electronics—such as optical sensors, data links, laser target illuminators, thermal imaging sensors, Forward-Looking Infrared (FLIR), and countermeasures.395 The prototyping initiatives permitted hardware and system demonstrations of new, high-risk technology without a force structure justification.396

Table 4. FY1972 Advanced Prototyping Initiatives397

The Navy and Army’s initiatives reflected the disruptive nature of semiconductor and computing advancements in the 1950s and 1960s, which carried significant implications for national security. Packard perhaps understood these developments better than anyone. He understood that technologies 

developed in the 1960s, such as cesium clocks and integrated electronics 

products, would have an impact on the battlefield.398

After the Army and Navy presented, Chapman presented four prototyping 

concepts aimed to enhance Air Force mobility, surveillance, air combat, and 

stealth. The AMST program was a C-130 size, 150,000-pound aircraft with a 

box size of 12 feet by 12 feet and designed to provide capability to operate in 

Army

Lt Gen Gribble

Unmanned Aerial Scout (with 

laser target illuminator for 

designating targets for division 

artillery units)

Remotely Controlled Attack Missile (with 4.5-6 pound payload 

to conduct precision strike 

missions)

Air defense effectiveness demonstrator (integrating FLIR technology into air defense systems)

Clean Air Engine (with improved efficiency and reduced 

emissions)

Multi-Mission Missile (M3), a 

heliborne missile capable of defeating mobile radar-controlled 

automatic cannons employed by 

the enemy

$23.5M (for FY1972)

$61M total (3 years)

Navy

Admiral Davies

New Sensors to enhance AntiSubmarine Warfare (ASW) 

capabilities

Modular, lightweight missile 

launcher system to weaponized 

ships

A more powerful V/STOL engine for fixed-wing aircraft 

(Pegasus 15, designed as an 

upgrade for the Harrier, a 

more powerful engine (3,000-

24,000lbs) plus a larger lift fan)

$20M (for FY1972)

$134M total

Air Force

Brig Gen Chapman

AMST

Very Low Radar Cross Section 

(RCS) Test Vehicle

Quiet Aircraft

(aero-acoustically designed wing 

and acoustically treated engine, 

either jet or prop, 50,000lb 

aircraft)

Small LWF

$20M (for FY1972)

$211M total
77

and out of 2,000-foot austere landing strips. It had a cargo airframe which 

sought to further develop and combine the following characteristics: powered 

lift, low-speed stability and control, low-speed deceleration, and high-speed 

cruise.399 AMST design concepts proposed using blown flaps or vectored 

thrust to achieve greater lift.400 General Chapman explained that Boeing and 

McDonnell proposed using B-1 engines, rated at about 16,000 pounds of 

thrust. The use of engines already available was consistent with Packard’s intent that prototype costs could be minimized by using government-furnished 

off-the-shelf equipment and avionics.401

Chapman then explained that the Very Low RCS Vehicle was a small, unmanned system utilizing a stealth platform design and used new materials. 

The new materials had been proven in a laboratory mock-up, and the Air 

Force wanted to proceed to flight demonstration to verify initial results.402 The 

plan was to fly the unmanned aerial vehicle against radars with known capability.403 The third proposal, the quiet Aircraft, was to include an aeroacoustically designed wing and acoustically treated engine, either jet or 

prop.404 The program’s objective was to reduce the noise to the point where it 

could not be detectable. The Air Force wanted to enlarge an existing Army 

aircraft design, the Y-3, to carry a heavier payload. General Chapman explained that NASA was actively researching how to reduce noise for the commercial fleet, focusing on a 50,000-pound aircraft. The Air Force desired an 

aircraft that “you cannot hear it at all,” while NASA was interested in meeting 

noise standards around commercial airports.405 Dr. Foster added that the 

Army Y-3 was successful but too small for the desired Air Force mission. The 

quiet aircraft and unmanned stealth aircraft initiative demonstrated the extent to which Packard desired to support a diverse portfolio of weapon system 

focused technologies. It also illustrated his desire to push the development of 

stealth and unmanned air vehicles. The notion of a 50,000-pound quiet aircraft (heavier than a fully loaded modern F-16) and stealthy unmanned aerial 

vehicles showed how the USAF aimed to nudge ambitious technologies toward battlefield applications.

Meanwhile, the LWF competition aimed to explore high maneuverability 

and performance, integrated aerodynamic design concepts, high thrust to 

weight ratios, high “g” cockpits with sidestick controls, and fly-by-wire technology in an aircraft weighing 20,000 pounds or less.406 Brig Gen Chapman 

also explained a new high G cockpit design, which involved pilots lying down, 

mostly horizontal. Designers anticipated that the human body could take nine 

G’s in such a configuration and it would provide greater maneuverability than 

legacy aircraft.407 Dr. Foster emphasized the low-cost approach to the prototype competition, explaining, “we currently have fighters that cost $10 million, 
78

$15 million apiece . . . in 1985 and so on, are you going to have $15 and $20, 

$25 million fighters? The way we see it, we cannot afford that kind of addition.”408

Fly-by-wire technology represented a paradigm shift and the dawn of the 

digital era of flight control systems. Unlike traditional analog aircraft controls— where the pilot used the stick and rudder to actuate mechanical linkages connected to control surfaces, such as the elevator and ailerons—fly-bywire technology interpreted and digitized the pilot’s inputs into a processor, 

which then actuated control surfaces to maneuver the aircraft. The implications of fly-by-wire technology were significant. In a sense, the pilot did not 

fly the aircraft but instead provided inputs into a computer. However, while 

the notion of fly-by-wire technology worried pilots, the YF-16 performed 

spectacularly during the prototyping competition.

In January 1975, the Air Force announced that the YF-16 won the LWF flyoff against the YF-17. Robert Coram wrote: “the YF-16 was the unanimous 

choice of pilots who flew both aircraft . . . [because] it could flick from one 

maneuver to another faster than any aircraft they ever flew . . . the most nimble 

little banking and yanking aircraft the world had ever seen.”409 In his memoir, 

Packard proudly recalled: “The F-16 has become the best Air Force fighter 

plane and the F-17—renamed the F-18—has become the best Navy fighter.”410

Given the divisive nature of the LWF proposal within the Air Force, Packard recalled: “It was impossible to make sense of what the problem was. I decided that the best thing to do was to get some pilots from Vietnam to come 

in and discuss it with me.”411 Air Force leadership was reluctant but eventually 

agreed to it. After speaking directly to several fighter pilots with experience in 

Vietnam, Packard got a better feel for the advantages of the LWF and agreed 

to support it. 412

Table 5. The Six Advantages of Prototyping413

Packard: The Six Advantages of Prototyping

1. Creating Options from which to make better choices (improving the ability to make 

decisions and making the first decision right)

2. Minimizing “sunk” costs until the government knew what capabilities the technology could realistically support (“fly-before-you-buy”)

3. Gain insight into system cost, performance, and reliability. Understanding how to 

realistically trade off performance, reliability, and subsequent costs (cost control by 

trade-offs)

4. Improving the ability to predict costs more accurately, based on hardware demonstrations rather than paper analysis

5. Counter concurrency. Minimize retrofits and provide industry greater flexibility to 

make design changes by reducing concurrency between development and production

6. Preserving competition. Continuing advancing technology and preserving design 

excellence in the government and industry.
79

Often oversimplified as “fly-before-you-buy,” Packard’s concept of prototyping was much more. After the service representatives presented, Packard 

explained his approach to acquisition. He defined three distinct types of prototypes desired to mitigate government risk ahead of a full-scale production 

decision:

(1) Advanced development prototypes

(2) Production (engineering) prototypes

(3) Subsystem and component prototypes

The distinction between types of prototypes was significant, as Packard envisioned dividing the development of a new weapon system into various prototyping stages and activities, with each phase focused on hardware demonstrations rather than analysis on paper. Packard developed this approach by 

analyzing military weapons acquisition systems used by other countries, such 

as Dassault Aviation in France, and successful efforts in the DOD, similar to 

the Skunk Works programs run by Kelly Johnson. After a discussion with Dr. 

John Foster, the Pentagon’s head of research and engineering, Barry Shillito, 

assistant secretary of the Navy, and others, he concluded that prototyping 

competitions should be set up. While Packard’s approach became known as 

“fly-before-you-buy,” Packard later recalled: “We got mixed up a bit . . . because 

you cannot do exactly that without stretching the program far too long.”414

As a caution, Packard warned the committee that “the advanced development prototype will not be a production prototype.”415 The intent of the first 

prototyping phase, the advanced development prototype, was only to demonstrate the feasibility and utility of technology before committing to full-scale 

development. Next, the purpose of the second phase, production (engineering) prototypes, was to ensure engineering problems were resolved and thorough testing and evaluation conducted before committing to full-scale production. Packard intended prototyping to be a mechanism that reduced risk 

before a production decision. Risk was reduced because government funds 

were not committed until the contractor was able to sufficiently work through 

technical challenges. Meanwhile it also provided maximum industry flexibility 

to conduct significant re-designs before entering production. He advocated 

prototyping not only just for aircraft but also for the component or subsystem 

level, which “gives us an opportunity to check out parts of a larger system with 

the prototype approach.” In his vision of prototyping, Packard clearly stated: 

“We are talking primarily about the advanced development prototype. We 

want to move in the direction of . . . testing it and evaluating it before a commitment is made for either full-scale development or production.”416
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Adaptive Management

A key aspect for managing the advanced prototyping initiatives was the 

adaptive management approach, as explained by Packard in his testimony. 

Packard’s adaptive approach was unconventional and very different from the 

highly centralized and bureaucratic nature of the Pentagon’s management of 

procurement effort.417 Instead, Packard desired to empower the services and 

the contractor. “If these prototype programs are to be efficient, they must be 

managed with the minimum of constraints. They should be designed to meet 

performance goals, not detailed specifications.”418 He wanted the services to 

retain responsibility for technical objectives, program trade-offs, and performance evaluation. He proposed that the contractor be assigned responsibility 

to design fabrication standards and management control systems. This included having the government accept contractor formatted data, waiving several hundred procedural policy regulations and directives, and keeping reporting channels as direct and straightforward as possible.

Perhaps most significantly, Packard allowed the contractor to retain the 

right to make design changes. Instead of 50 to 250 person personnel program 

offices, Packard envisioned three to five person teams representing the services working closely with the contractors.419 Eschewing cost-fixed contracts 

utilized during McNamara’s TPP efforts, Packard instead looked to combine 

cost and fixed-price features, “recognizing that the contractor may not achieve 

all the goals you set, but we would require that they deliver completed hardware and data within the maximum amount of the contract.”420 Packard recommended that joint service-contractor teams perform both the airworthiness demonstration and flight performance evaluation, with the service 

entering the program at the “earliest possible point in time.” Ultimately, Packard wanted to “replace paper with people” by embedding small teams with the 

contractor, backed with the support of laboratories and systems divisions. 

Packard felt that one of the major causes of overruns was the Pentagon commitment of funds before many technological problems had been overcome.421

The advanced prototyping initiatives sought to cut down the length of RFPs 

from about 250 pages to 25 pages, and Packard believed that contractor responses could be reduced from about 2,000 pages to 60 pages. The managerial 

aspects of the advanced prototyping initiatives were as important as the technologies themselves. At the time, a two-step process was used in the Pentagon 

to evaluate proposals. First, a committee of multiple stakeholders—technical, 

logistics, operational, cost, technical, and management—convened to conduct 

a detailed evaluation of the concept. Next, another team of eight to 12 conducted a weighted analysis. Instead, Packard proposed teams of four-to-six 
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members who would write a narrative report with the intent to get a prototype 

under contract within 60 days. Packard lamented that excessive reliance on 

paper studies and paper reports had kept promising technologies from progressing beyond the labs. Packard summarized: “With such prototypes, a new 

weapon can be evaluated in terms of what it will in fact do, not what the specifications or the contractors’ proposals say it is supposed to do.”422

Packard also reiterated that the advanced development prototype would 

not be a production prototype, and additional engineering development and 

testing would be necessary to achieve a stage where it could be the basis for a 

production program.423 As an example, the LWY prototype would not include 

the avionics, weapons, and other systems which are necessary for a fully operational weapons systems. Packard believed that maintaining design teams 

within the industry was a critical component to national security. A significant advantage of continuous prototyping was that it would alleviate the 

“stop-and-go” conditions prevalent in the defense industry and preserve and 

strengthen the capability of existing design teams.

After the formal presentations came questions from the committee. Senator Stennis probed the problems of the F-14 program, to which Packard 

bluntly responded: “Too much paperwork in the beginning and too much 

concurrency between development and production . . . a number of these 

firms say they will design, test, and deliver two flyable models for $35 million. 

I submit to you that we have wasted $35 million filling out forms and 

paperwork.”424 Packard viewed the F-15 as a slightly better approach as it had 

to reach certain milestones before a production decision was made. Packard 

explained to the Senate committee that his A-X program was an excellent 

example of a prototype competition, as it pitted two models—one at $41 million and another at $29 million—against each other in competition without 

committing either program to production.425 Packard explained that although 

the B-1 program displayed many characteristics of a prototype competition—

as production was not guaranteed—it also showed the limitations of prototyping competitions for expensive or unique programs.426 “The B-1 program 

is, in my view, a commitment to development only. We have plans set up, so 

we will get three models that will be tested.”427 Packard added the AWACS 

program as another example of the prototyping approach, as two competing 

radars were being tested against each other.428

Voices of Concern

Some politicians expressed concern toward Packard’s new approach (DNH). St Louis based McDonnell Douglas was in the middle of developing the 
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F-15. The LWF represented an opportunity for McDonnell Douglas’ competitors to develop an air superiority fighter, and Symington wanted to make sure 

the F-15 program would not be threatened. Symington also did not appreciate 

Packard’s comments which appeared in the Washington Evening Star, in 

which Packard “blamed industry for too often promising more than it could 

deliver and the armed services for having been exceedingly optimistic about 

what could be produced with limited time with limited funds.”429 Packard personally responded to the Senator assuring him that the new LWF prototype 

would not directly compete with or jeopardize the F-15 contract.430

During deliberation, Senator Symington ceded that the $67.5 million 

Packard was requesting for the prototypes represented less than one percent 

of the RDT&E budget; however, t the Senator preferred the services reallocate funding within their respective budgets rather than receive additional 

funds.431 Symington, indirectly referring to the bailout of the troubled Lockheed Corporation reasoned that neither the government nor the contractor 

took any risk in entering a prototyping contract. He saw that the A-X contracts were fixed-price, and under the flexible performance goals that Packard had presented, there was not a risk if a contractor failed to complete a 

build of a flyable prototype.432

Senator McIntyre also showed concern, preferring that the DOD meet 

budget requests by reallocating funding internally. He seemed uncertain 

how the Navy’s requested prototyping would impact defense contracts in 

New Hampshire. He peppered Packard with questions: “I am a little concerned that with all of the 10,000 projects you already have, you ask the services to go back and dream up 12 or 15 more. Why do you have to go out and 

find these new deals, although some of them look very familiar, like ASW 

sensors? Why did you have to do that?” 433 The new paths of competition offered the prototyping approach had complex implications for the senators as 

they thought about their respective support bases. The interchange also 

highlighted the difference in perspectives between the various stakeholders 

in the defense acquisition system.

While senior leaders within OSD and the DOD saw the advanced prototyping initiatives as an opportunity to create more options and flexibility to 

modernize the military, Congress saw it as an unnecessary duplication of effort and a threat to defense-related employment within their respective constituencies. While advantageous to national security, the combination of increased competition within the defense industrial base as well as delaying the 

production decision until the weapon system demonstrated sufficient maturity significantly increased uncertainty. Specifically within political, military 

parochial, and defense industry spheres, and with stakeholders who benefited 
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from large and stable defense contracts. Therefore, as a whole, Packard’s reform efforts were an attempt to shift risk from OSD and DOD stakeholders to

political, defense industry, (and other DOD) stakeholders which highlighted 

the zero-sum nature of the defense acquisition system.

In other words, a “win” for DOD and OSD stakeholders was a “loss” for 

political and defense industry stakeholders. Seen in this light, defense programs with very complex designs, concurrency, and poor management practices all played to the advantage of specific stakeholders within Congress, the 

defense industry, and the DOD. Premature commitment to production provided employment stability within many towns and communities. An overoptimistic approach to commit to complex designs resulted in cost overruns, 

which in turn disproportionately displaced federal dollars to local constituencies. Paradoxically, while cost overruns, concurrency, and schedule delays 

benefited political and defense industry stakeholders, the actual combat capability of weapon systems played little into the mental calculus of Congress, the 

defense industry, and even competing spheres of influence within the DOD. 

In short, the issues that kept senior military leaders up at night were very different from the issues that kept politicians and defense industry executives up 

at night. Even senior military leaders benefited from concurrency, as illustrated by the use of concurrency by the US Navy to minimize the chance its 

F-14 program would be canceled. By threatening the existing balance of risk 

within the system, Packard was a revisionist, and his proposals threatened to 

upend the status quo.

If successful, Packard’s efforts aimed to decrease the amount of risk burdened by the DOD and OSD, and increase the fog and friction placed on 

other stakeholders in the system. Packard had achieved significant victories 

in this respect during his first year and a half in the Pentagon by successfully 

launching several programs that did not commit the DOD to production. 

Late into his third year at the Pentagon, Packard now stormed the beachhead 

looking for additional gains. If his frontal attack on Congress was successful, 

the advanced prototypes initiative would represent an even more significant 

victory for OSD and the services. In principle, defending the production decision point did not provide more options for senior leaders; however, allowing 

more companies to transition their designs from paper to hardware did. If 

Packard could align conditions correctly, the pendulum could reach a point 

where DOD and OSD leaders were temporarily in a position where they had 

options and room to maneuver to cost-effectively modernize the force.

In short, risk and uncertainty previously burdened by the military would be 

shared with politicians and defense industry leaders. Packard’s efforts sought 

to create a set of conditions that effectively and efficiently, albeit temporarily, 
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aligned procurement efforts with long-term security interests of the nation. 

This maximized gains for specific groups or stakeholders seeking parochial, 

profit, or political interests. It was within this context that Packard battled to 

“fix” the defense acquisition system.

Packard understood that the “three problems” of defense programs he 

initially identified reflected the natural state of the defense acquisition system based on the conflicting incentives that existed within the system. 

Therefore, more than anyone else, Packard knew that the two-front war he 

waged on acquisition reform would be a futile one from a long-term perspective. It was not a durable approach to reform, nor was it intended to be. 

Packard stormed the beach to open up a window of opportunity. If successful, it would be up to the services to effectively manage the prototyping 

competitions that received funding.

As for the future of airpower, although Packard’s efforts focused on launching a new generation of platforms, he recognized that the digital and electronics revolution underway in Silicon Valley meant that it would not be the aircraft itself, but the devices that the aircraft employed which would achieve 

combat effects in the decades to come. On 8 April 1971, Packard explained:

We are trying to place emphasis on areas which, hopefully, give us a quantum jump in our 

capability. The services would rather have a thousand 500-pound bombs than one 

weapon that would really do the job that might cost $200,000 or something like that. And 

we finally, I think are getting our military people to come around to recognize these facts.

If you had six perfect weapons it would require six sorties to destroy six targets . . . we 

found that if you applied the least expensive weapons, 500-pound bombs or 750-pound 

bombs, to this mission, it required over one thousand sorties and $15 million to destroy 

just six targets. However, if we selected the most effective weapons in the inventory, it 

required only 20 sorties and cost $600,000 to destroy those six targets—reduction of 50 

to 1 in the number of sorties and a reduction of 25 to 1 in the cost to do the job.434

Packard’s comments in 1971 would foreshadow the Linebacker campaigns 

a year later, where laser and electro-optically guided munitions were used 

extensively. On 26 May 1971, a single flight of F-4s dropped laser-guided 

bombs that destroyed three buildings at the Son Tay warehouse and storage 

area. According to Air Force Maj Gen Eugen L. Hudson, 7th Air Force director of intelligence: “Laser-guided bombs . . . revolutionized tactical bombing.” 

Through August 1972, a raid’s strike force averaged only eight to 10 strike 

aircraft supported by larger numbers of support aircraft, much smaller than 

the 60 to 80 aircraft strike packages which were previously used to achieve a 

lesser effect.435 However, the introduction of Precision Guided Missiles 

(PGMs) had complex implications for the way the USAF thought about warfare. Likely it made generals, particularly those within Strategic Air Command 
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uncomfortable. It threatened to undermine airpower tactics that emphasized 

area bombing which was a manpower-intensive effort that used tonnage of 

munitions as one of its key measures.

Therefore, Packard’s efforts were precarious in the sense that they threatened not only the status quo of political and defense industry stakeholders in 

the system but also the status quo within the services. In addition to the new 

generation of platforms, other new technologies threatened to disrupt traditional war-fighting norms. From the introduction of artillery to mechanized 

units to the aircraft carrier, military history is littered with examples that illustrate how the introduction of paradigm-shifting weapon systems is typically embraced with hesitation by military leaders. New technologies encounter barriers stemming from parochial interests and the deviation from 

accepted “concepts of war.”436

The testimonies also illustrated the complex nature of defense procurement 

as compared to the private sector. Hewlett and Packard had fostered a culture 

within their company that incentivized and scaled innovation from the bottom-up. As Part I of this paper illustrated, Packard did not fear the rise of disruptive technologies; instead, he designed a way of doing business at HP to 

harness and exploit those changes. However, as testimonies from the advanced 

prototyping initiatives revealed, it was natural for political leaders and senior 

military leaders to fear the uncertainty that increased competition brings. Absent a credible and existential threat; there is little impetus for government 

decision makers to accept risk or desire change, as most changes within the 

system would most likely only serve to undermine their power base.

Between 6 September and 23 November, the $67.5 million requested was 

reduced to $34 million by the Senate-House Conference Committee and then 

eliminated by the Senate Appropriations Committee.437 On 14 December 

1971, the FY1972 Appropriations Bill was released. Of the $67.5 million Packard originally requested for 12 programs, the bill allocated $12 million for two 

of the programs: The LWF and the AMST.438 Even with the high casualty rate, 

Packard’s “Hail Mary”—the advanced prototyping initiatives—was a considerable victory in the sense that it provided the window of opportunity necessary for several additional competitors to enter the hardware development 

phase of the acquisition cycle. The two approved prototyping competitions 

ultimately paved the way for the development of the F-16, F/A-18, and C-17. 

In addition, while the A-X illustrated OSD’s ability to resolve interservice 

stalemates, the LWF program illustrated OSD’s ability to resolve intraservice 

stalemates. In facilitating the introduction of the F-16, Packard provided an 

opportunity for the rise of digital flight controls—despite initial protests from 

the pilots within the Air Force. Combined with Packard’s push for PGMs, the 
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significance of his contributions to the DOD cannot be understated. Such 

examples also provide a rationale for why OSD should take time to listen to 

the proposals from minority voices within the services. They should also 

“hedge their bets” by investing in a portfolio of technologies and delay production decisions until the technology is sufficiently mature to warrant it. 

Packard states:

Within the Defense Department, there continues to be a degree of competition between 

the services—and frequently between parts of the services—that is unacceptable because it is inconsistent with the common commitment . . . jealousies and in-fighting will 

only serve to drain our nation’s energies.439

Packard Resigns from the Pentagon

On 10 December 1971, several days before the FY1972 budget was announced, Packard submitted his letter of resignation to President Nixon, effective 13 December 1971.440 President Nixon accepted the letter the next day, 

thanking Packard for his “great personal and financial sacrifice” in serving the 

nation.441 In a press release, Packard expressed his gratefulness for Melvin Laird:

It has been a great experience as well to work with Mel Laird. I had met him, but I did 

not know him when I came out here three years ago. I know him now. I know him now 

not only as a great Secretary of Defense with fine administrative ability combined with 

a compassion or people. I also know him as one of the great politicians on the contemporary scene, and I know him as a good friend. We have worked well together. I can 

recall no major issues on which we have disagreed during these last three years. In fact, 

I can recall no minor ones either.442

On his experience in the Pentagon, Packard wrote:

Things have not been easy here in Defense during these three years, but when I came out 

here in 1969, no one promised me a bed of roses. Yet I believe we have made substantial 

progress in many areas—not as much as I hoped we might make. We have better policies, we have better attitudes, more leadership, and more teamwork than we found when 

Mel and I took over in 1969.443

In the year and a half after Packard’s departure from the Pentagon and his 

return to HP in Palo Alto, rumors swirled within the media speculating his 

return to the DOD as the SECDEF. On 3 May 1973, the White House acknowledged Packard was Nixon’s first choice.444 A cacophony of speculation followed. The Washington Post reported that Packard was “undecided,” The Washington Star and News called Packard’s return as “likely,” while the Los Angeles 

Times named Packard the “probable new defense chief.”445 As the days passed, 

speculation turned into expectation. On 7 May Aerospace Daily titled an article 

“Nixon to Packard: An Offer He Can’t Refuse?”446 The same day, the Wall Street 
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Journal reported: “Packard is expected to reluctantly agree to Nixon request 

that he head Pentagon.”447 However, a week later, Packard quelled rumors by 

issuing a press release that he would not accept the nomination.448 Nixon’s appeal to Packard in 1973 would not be the last time the White House would ask 

Packard to help the DOD out of a bind, as Pres. Ronald Reagan would call 

upon Packard to lead the Packard Commission in the 1980s.

Conclusion

... the three years I spent in the Pentagon must be numbered among the 

most interesting of my life. I’m not sure they can be numbered among 

the most productive. Only time will tell whether anything useful or 

permanent has been accomplished.

-David Packard

March 1972

The first part of the conclusion will expand upon eight points for consideration.449 The second part will ascertain the way ahead.

First, critics would argue that Packard’s reforms between 1969 and 1971 

were limited in effect because he failed to institutionalize durable mechanisms 

to combat Packard’s “axis of evil” effectively—what he identified as the three 

fundamental problems of defense acquisition (described in Part III)—designs 

that are too complex and ambitious, have too much tolerance of concurrency, 

and have poor management of programs because of the lack of the authority 

provided to the services to manage trade-offs and rapid turnover of uniformed program managers. The institutional memory of the services is short. 

Acquisition programs continue to suffer the same problems today.450 However, Packard’s legacy as DEPSEC illustrates that the effects of reform do not 

have to be permanent for them to be meaningful. Instead, acquisition reform 

is meaningful if it creates a window of opportunity that is exploited to achieve 

desired effects, that is, to increase or improve the options available to OSD 

and DOD decision makers in the long run. In the case of Packard, his reform 

efforts provided a set of conditions leveraged by Air Force leadership to 

launch much of what the DOD now refers to as fourth-generation airpower—

platforms including the F-16, F/A-18, F-15, A-10, AWACS, C-17, B-1, and 

S-3. Launching these programs between 1969 and 1972 provided the Reagan 

administration with an increased number of production-ready, combat-ready 

options to modernize the force in the 1980s.
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Critics would also argue that Packard had negligible influence on the rise 

of fourth-generation airpower, as several of its programs, such as the F-15, 

were already in various stages of design and development when Packard arrived at the Pentagon in 1969. This paper argues that the method of procurement matters a great deal. The rise of fourth-generation airpower was not 

inevitable, particularly in the face of significant budget cuts of the early 1970s. 

Instead, it required Packard to design and implement a deliberate, long-term 

strategy that enabled the DOD to modernize its forces during a decade of 

considerable cost constraints. Packard’s most significant contribution was his 

sequential, incremental, “fly-before-you-buy” approach to defense acquisition. This decreased the risk and uncertainty burdened by OSD and the services as part of a broader, more cohesive strategy which this paper refers to as 

the LP Way. Packard countered the influence of defense conglomerates by 

breaking large programs into smaller ones, without guarantee of production, 

and sponsoring competition as far into the acquisition life-cycle as possible. A 

crucial part of Packard’s strategy to enable competition was to increase support for prototyping and the opportunity for more programs to proceed into 

the initial phases of hardware development. Over three decades of experience 

building HP helped Packard tackle this problem. His business had survived 

two budget downturns, first after World War II and then after the Korean 

War, and therefore, he approached the defense acquisition problem from the 

perspective of the private sector and devised a solution that maintained competition within the defense industrial base.

Third, critics would argue that it is illogical to speed the defense acquisition system up by slowing it down. Packard’s legacy indicates the opposite. 

Perhaps most significantly—although there was not an end to the Vietnam 

War in sight in 1969—Packard was not rushed nor asked by Secretary of 

Defense Melvin Laird for an immediate solution. Instead, from the moment 

he stepped into the Pentagon, Packard was allowed to look far into the future, beyond Vietnam, to structure the DOD’s modernization efforts. While 

senior leaders are often tempted to demand and expect immediate results 

within the constraints and context of the current era or conflict, Laird and 

Packard refused to fall into this trap. Instead, they structured their partnership in a manner to effectively handle issues at hand. This included the Vietnam War and negotiations with the Soviet Union, while at the same time 

establishing an unparalleled degree of strategic clarity. The prioritization of 

long-term, strategic goals, instead of building a reactionary culture, is perhaps the essential characteristic of the LP Way. Laird and Packard were not 

looking for quick fixes; instead, they were looking for a fundamentally sound 

approach to designing the force of the future.
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Just as the fall of Saigon in 1975 compelled veterans of the Vietnam War to 

think critically about the nature and character of war—as marked by the resurgence of Clausewitz and Sun Tzu in Western military study—the fall of 

Mosul to Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) in 2014 has provided a similar 

opportunity for the current generation of American leaders. Both the fall of 

Saigon and Mosul were moments in history where US military leaders questioned the efficacy of the military establishment in achieving long-term strategic aims. Secretary of Defense James Mattis recalls General Sherman’s famous quotation, “every attempt to make war easy and safe will result in 

humiliation and disaster.”451 As the study of David Packard’s time in the Pentagon illustrates, there are not any short-cuts in defense acquisition either. 

Therefore, acquisition professionals should remain leery of recent calls for 

“rapid” acquisition, specifically if they pressure programs to commit prematurely to production. As this paper illustrates, concurrency is neither a sufficient nor a rapid method of procurement. Instead, Packard characterized 

concurrency as a position for the desperate, naïve, or a combination of both. 

He rationalized: “[Concurrency] results from anxiety on the part of the services to get the weapon into operation.”452 Above all, concurrency serves the 

interests of specific stakeholders more than the greater good—premature 

commitment to production is a method to procurement that denies competitors the opportunity to prove the worth of their design.

Fourth, critics may contend that the LP Way is not relevant given the advancements in technology and increased complexity of systems developed 

between the 1960s and 2010s. Although the character of defense acquisition 

will continually change, the nature of defense acquisition is immutable. 

Therefore, the LP Way is relevant today and will remain so far into the future. 

Problems with the F-35 program and other recent acquisition efforts mirror 

troubled 1960s programs—the C-5A and F-111—encountered as Packard 

and Laird arrived at the Pentagon. A 2017 interview of the recently retired 

F-35 Program Executive Officer (PEO), Lt Gen Christopher C. Bogdan’s provides insight into the relevance and applicability of the LP Way on new programs.453 Bogdan’s comments can be easily framed within Packard’s “axis of 

evil,” the three problems of defense acquisition.

On buying overly complex systems, Bogdan decried the “Big Bang Theory” 

of acquisition, describing it as: “I’m going to take all these huge requirements, 

and I’m going to build one single program from start to end, and in the end, 

I’m going to deliver you everything you want in one fell swoop.” It’s a “terrible 

strategy,” Bogdan said, and it “never, ever, ever works.” To speed things up, 

Bogdan, like Packard, suggested slowing things down. “You’ve got to build up; 

you’ve got to do things in increments.” Bogdan insisted this approach be 
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applied to hardware and software alike. Although Bogdan encountered resistance to this approach from the user, financial managers, comptrollers, and 

Congress, he claims: “you’ll actually go faster in the end. And you’ll get a 

better weapon system.” “There’s a lot of institutional resistance to what some 

people call “spiral:” I call it the “incremental acquisition strategy.” Bogdan 

ordered work stopped on the 3F version of the software, which was being 

developed concurrently to the previous version, 3i. “Forget 3F for now . . . 

we’ve got to fix 3i. Because if you don’t get 3i right, you don’t get 3F.”454

On the concurrent nature of the F-35 program: “The 200-plus aircraft already delivered are in many different configurations and will all require modifications to bring them up to 3F standard. It will be a massive

Enterprise . . . even more so than the development effort . . . there’s going to 

an awful lot of airplanes in an awful lot of places in an awful lot of configurations.” Compounding the challenge, Bogdan reported that there are parts that 

only fit a specific batch of airplanes: “some of those parts have moved to a new 

design, but earlier jets have yet to catch up through retrofit.” Some parts, such 

as the fuel pump, are not meeting reliability and maintainability goals. 455

On Packard’s third problem, the rapid turnover of uniformed personnel, 

Bogdan and his predecessor, Vice Adm David J. Venlet, secured permission to 

change the two-year rule so that the PEO could stay longer.456 They understood that repairing the culture of dysfunction within the F-35 program 

would take more time. Bogdan describes how the consistency of leadership 

provided uniformity in the message to Congress, the partners, and the industry. Also, “people have to know, both on the industry side and the government 

side, that they can’t wait you out.” Bogdan served as the F-35 PEO for five 

years, from 2012 to 2017.457

Bogdan’s interview illustrates that Packard’s “three problems”—concurrency, complexity, and poor management practices—persist today. But why? 

Perhaps it is because Packard’s “axis of evil” represents the natural state of the 

defense acquisition system with a set of conditions that satisfy the largest aggregate amount of stakeholders within the system. Packard’s experience as 

DEPSEC illustrates how stakeholders will naturally seek courses of action that 

serve their individual political, parochial, or profit-driven interests. There are 

not any heroes or villains within the defense acquisition system, only rational 

actors. Perspective matters when reflecting on Packard’s “three problems.” 

While concurrency, complexity, and poor DOD management are seen as 

problems from the perspective of the greater good, these “problems” paradoxically serve the interests of other stakeholders by lowering the risk and 

uncertainty within their respective spheres of influence. The pervasiveness of 
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the three problems in the modern era compound calls from senior military 

leaders to “fix” defense acquisition.

Fifth, critics may argue that the DOD cannot afford an approach involving 

extensive competitive prototyping. Packard’s legacy calls attention to the economic challenges faced during the drawdown from Vietnam and marked by 

the loss of two million defense-related jobs across the defense industry by the 

military and government civilians. In 2014, Dr. J. Ronald Fox (Harvard University professor and former assistant secretary of the Army) posited that corrupt management practices, including concurrency, continue because they 

are aligned with the incentives; “that is, they minimize the risk that programs 

will be cut back or canceled.”458 It is natural for stakeholders within these 

spheres to act in a manner to protect their interests, particularly those related 

to long-term employment prospects and job security. Packard states:

I visited one plant last year [1971] that was running a year behind its project schedule. 

After a couple of hours, it was apparent the company knew it would be at least a year off 

schedule on the day the contract was signed. I asked the manager why he offered to do 

the job in one year less than was possible. The essence of his reply was—yes, we knew we 

could not meet the terms of the contract, but there was no way to get the contract if we 

told the truth.459

Such instances illustrate why maintaining competition is essential. Maintaining competition and withholding the production decision until a later 

point is the only mechanism to ensure the DOD has options to fall back onto 

when a contractor fails to fulfill contractual obligations. It is the only approach that recognizes competition as the optimal path toward progression. 

Absence of competition results in programs that are unable to fail. A defense 

acquisition system that does not accommodate failure or significant restructuring of its programs is inherently ineffective, as failure is a cornerstone of 

growth and progression. The development of complex weapon systems represents “wicked problems” that require significant redesign and an iterative approach to maximize chances of success.

Moreover, frequent turnover in key military acquisition positions provides 

the defense industry favorable conditions for which to bargain and conduct 

negotiations. This paper illustrated how Grumman waited for Packard to 

leave to renegotiate a more favorable contract for the F-14 program. As Lt 

Gen Bogdan’s 2017 interview illustrates, it is difficult for a uniformed program manager to make meaningful changes if the contractor knows he or she 

will be gone in less than two years.

 Sixth, Packard’s legacy illustrates how reform is difficult. Forces within the 

system inherently seek to defer substantial changes to the status quo. This includes the introduction of new platforms—as reflected by new plans to extend 
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the service of existing platforms—such as the F-16s until 2046 and the A-10 

into the 2030s. Packard’s reform efforts inherently shifted risk and uncertainty 

from OSD to other stakeholders in the system. Therefore, OSD and the DOD 

can expect to encounter resistance if they hope to become agents for reform, 

both externally and internally. As this study illustrates, both the Army and Air 

Force were furious at OSD for their handling of the A-X competition. Military 

leaders initially opposed Packard’s calls to introduce of precision-guided munitions, and pilots within the Air Force initially opposed the introduction of 

the YF-16 and its paradigm-shifting fly-by-wire technology. Packard’s “Hail 

Mary,” the advanced prototyping initiatives, indicated even more disruption 

was possible within the services. The prospect of the Army operating small 

unmanned aerial scouts, the Navy weaponizing a higher number of ships with 

modular missiles, and the Air Force operating stealth remotely piloted aircraft 

seem inevitable in hindsight, but they were radical notions to the services top 

brass in 1971. Perhaps most significantly, by attempting to provide windows of 

opportunity not only for the services themselves but also for minority voices 

within the services, Packard often moved too fast for comfort.

Seventh, another area where Packard’s legacy offers utility is his “axis of 

evil”—concurrency, complexity, and poor management—it was simple, understandable, had timeless tenets, and a message which quickly permeated 

and resonated with the acquisition workforce. As the “Packard Memo” 

demonstrated, David Packard understood the value of delivering broad intent throughout an organization, from top-to-bottom. For Packard, reaching the grassroots level was critical. From his Ivory Tower in the Pentagon, 

Packard could turn the wheel of the ship, but he knew it took the entire organization to change its direction. Therefore, Packard’s “three problems” approach merits consideration for the modern leader as an overarching 

framework for the problem that can be understood by everyone from second lieutenants to senior leaders.

Eighth, Packard demonstrated time and time again that he did not care 

what form or shape the future force structure took during his time as DEPSEC, as long as it served the DOD’s overarching mission of protecting the 

interests of America and her allies. For these reasons, Packard was willing to 

champion paradigm-shifting technologies in front of Congress well ahead of 

when they would be accepted. This reinforced the notion that Packard was 

not an idea man, instead he was a process man. Just as he prospered by facilitating the rise of a diverse ecosystem of products at HP, he attempted to facilitate the rise of a diverse ecosystem of weapon systems during his years in 

the Pentagon. This approach to business made Packard plenty of enemies 

within the power brokers looking to maintain the status quo of the defense 
93

acquisition system, but it simultaneously garnered him a tremendous amount 

of loyalty and respect.

Understanding Packard’s intent requires the study of the HP Way. Packard 

was likely surprised and disappointed with the resistance that the services and 

other stakeholders within the system showed toward change. In California, 

HP rode the first waves of the digital revolution. More than anyone, Packard 

wanted to usher the military into the digital era. Packard likely viewed analog 

systems as obsolete as he stepped into the Pentagon in 1969. Given his experience, Packard’s ideas to merge digital technology with warfare were easily 

three to four decades ahead of senior military leaders. From its earliest days, 

HP’s corporate culture embraced uncertainty and thrived on a broad and diverse ecosystem of products, using processes, such as Hewlett’s “three hats” to 

facilitate and scale a bottom-up approach to innovation. Within this context, 

Packard had learned to become comfortable with uncertainty.

Throughout his life, Packard also demonstrated an unwavering willingness 

to bet on the underdog and support David instead of Goliath. Packard was an 

underdog himself when he co-founded HP out of a one-car garage in Palo 

Alto. Packard saw the dangers of large defense conglomerates and their patron stakeholders in stifling innovation and competition within the defense 

industrial base. At the same time, Packard understood that it was often the 

DOD and OSD that provided incentives for defense contractors, particularly 

prime integrators, to burden excessive risk and uncertainty.460 Packard willingly admitted that he initially opposed the products which defined much of 

HP’s future success, such as the handheld calculator and the personal computer. This mindset illustrates that Packard did not have a vested interest in 

what form or shape HP’s products took, as long they served to support his 

company’s overarching mission of contributing to society. Packard was frustrated that the same could not be said of the military.

On the Way Ahead

The only sensible course is to hold the contractor to his contract. 

Although some companies may be forced to suffer financially because of 

this concept, it will not be a major disaster to the country. It will be a 

very major disaster to the country if we cannot get the militaryindustrial complex to play the game straight.

-David Packard
94

Quite simply, it means the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, and the 

Marines must put the welfare of America ahead of their respective 

service, in peacetime as well as in war . . . it means the great industrial 

corporations that forge the seams of our military strength must put the 

long term gains of America ahead of the short term gains of their 

respective organizations.

-David Packard

Similar to 1969, is there a possibility OSD would ever re-declare war on the 

“Three Problems,” or Packard’s “Axis of Evil” of defense acquisition programs? 

461 Many would argue, including this author, that OSD always has and always 

will be in a perpetual struggle among the stakeholders within the defense acquisition system, including with itself.462 Given the zero-sum nature of the 

system calls for defense acquisition reform to never cease; instead, sources of 

discontent flow from one group of stakeholders to another. Recent calls from 

the DOD and OSD for change is nothing new; it is the predictable consequence of how defense programs have been structured over the last two decades (high levels of complexity and concurrency). Specific symptoms currently experienced by senior leaders include a dearth of options within specific 

war-fighting domains. Because of a lack of competition, a significant amount 

of resources are tied up in relatively few, ineffective programs, which in turn 

creates an overall sense that the system is nonresponsive to the immediate 

needs of the military services. The bigger question is whether or not the DOD 

and OSD will ever be able to effectively wage war, to achieve its own aims and 

interests better. If so, under what conditions and whose leadership?

Packard’s legacy illustrates that while change is possible, it requires a 

unique balance of leadership—a hard-charging leader within OSD who is 

looking more for long-term payoffs rather than immediate results. It also requires a deliberate and concerted course of action from top leadership within 

the Pentagon to seek out minority voices within the services and provide the 

opportunity for their programs to enter prototyping competitions, while at 

the same time not committing those programs to production. Packard demonstrates how effective reform starts small, program by program. While it can 

be argued that Packard arrived at the Pentagon during a chapter in history 

conducive to reform, there is also not a reason to believe that crisis is necessary for meaningful reform to occur. Similarly, although this paper argues 

that the unique culture at HP and Packard’s contributions to the managerial 

methods it employed translated to relative success in the Pentagon, there is 

also not a reason to believe a specific pedigree or background is required for 
95

a leader within OSD or the services to affect meaningful change. In other 

words, Packard’s legacy does not exclude someone from an entirely different 

background from achieving similar success. The barriers that exist within the 

system are human-made; therefore, the path to overcoming them will remain 

within the realm of the possible.

Within this context, Packard’s legacy asks the reader to think critically 

about the nature of humanity. The policy is human-made and continuously 

evolving. Therefore, the policy is imperfect, and its implementation is only as 

effective as the competence and ability of its workforce. Understanding and 

implementing policy as it was intended requires not only studying the policy 

but also developing an understanding of its authors and the era in which they 

lived. Therefore, this paper contends that understanding the intent of the 

original DODD 5000.1 is best served by understanding David Packard, his 

experiences, and the era in which he served in the Pentagon. Within this context, there is room to compare war-fighting doctrine with acquisition policy. 

War-fighting doctrine is often written at the cost of American bloodshed and 

lives and the result of hard-fought lessons learned on the battlefield. Therefore, it is intuitive that military officers would study famous battles and military leaders of past generations. Similarly, acquisition policy is written at the 

cost of hard-earned American taxpayer dollars and the culmination of best 

practices and lessons learned during the development of new weapon systems. This implies that military officers need not only be versed in military 

history, current events, and politics but also have a decent grasp of how the 

DOD procures its weapon systems.

If it takes a general decades to gain enough experience to build his or her 

ability to lead large and complex military formations in effectively waging war 

(the battle itself). Does it translate to success in making good decisions within 

the realm of defense acquisition (the battle before the battle)? The answer is 

not crystal clear. Can our senior leaders speak as intelligently in the economic 

and political context in which Alan Mulally, Dutch Kindleberger, and David 

Packard made decisions to advance the development of new technology as 

they can about the factors that influenced how Eisenhower, Napoleon I, and 

Nimitz made decisions on the battlefield? Can our senior leaders distinguish 

between “total” and “limited” acquisition programs, just as they can speak to 

the concepts of total and limited war?

As Sun Tzu famously wrote, “if you know the enemy and know yourself, 

you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but 

not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you 

know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” Sun 

Tzu’s principles are as relevant within the realms of business and defense 
96

acquisition as they are the battlefield. Although incredibly competent and 

capable leaders on the battlefield, it is natural for military officers to lack the 

experience and knowledge of their defense industry counterparts.463

The LP Way offers some insights into characteristics of favorable acquisition campaigns and lessons learned of the past, but it is also not allinclusive—although based on fundamentally sound principles—as the influence of the human dimension on the defense acquisition system cannot 

be understated. Similar to war, defense acquisition is much more an art 

than a science. There is not any amount of analytical tools and independent 

cost estimates that can capture the second and third-order effects of human nature. For example, competition is an essential ingredient of the LP 

Way, but analytical models and cost estimates often fail to capture its inherent value.

In conclusion, the purpose of this paper was not to identify a specific 

solution or strategy, instead it is to introduce the reader to an important 

chapter in the history of defense acquisition. As Table 2 illustrates, this 

study is limited in the sense that it slices through a tiny corner of the defense acquisition system, through a very narrow window of time (1969–

71), and is only from the perspective of one stakeholder. It challenges the 

reader to place Packard’s experience within the context of their knowledge 

and experiences. The barriers to innovation and modernization are inherently baked into the current system as a function of existing incentives, 

processes, and organizations. Therefore, this study also challenges the 

reader to question his or her own organization’s role and mission within 

the broader acquisition process as well as apply critical thought to existing 

acquisition policies. Despite the nature of the barriers within the system, 

Packard always voiced optimism: “if we want to remain a powerful nation, 

we can do so. And if we are powerful, we can influence the course of history in a positive way.”464 History has shown us that stakeholders will not 

willingly sacrifice their interests, particularly if the resources once allocated to them are now at risk to be reallocated to new technology or a way 

of warfare. The LP Way rectifies this situation as it simultaneously provides 

an opportunity for each stakeholder to demonstrate the potential worth of 

their desired weapon system, while also demanding a high level of certainty in system cost and performance before national resources are committed to its production.
97

Follow-on Research

The following three questions will guide Major Fredrickson’s follow-on 

research:

1. Should defense acquisition policy be studied as a destination point of 

departure? If a policy is a destination, it is crucial to understand how we got 

here. If a policy is a point of departure, it is essential to understand where we 

are going (i.e., focus on the design of future acquisition strategy and perhaps, 

more importantly, methods of implementation). This paper analyzed Packard’s original issuance of DODD 5000.1, both as a destination (by studying 

lessons learned from acquisition programs of the late 1960s), and a point of 

departure (by studying Packard’s initiatives after issuing the policy (i.e., the 

advanced prototyping initiatives). Moving forward, Major Fredrickson would 

like to apply a similar method of study to other critical junctures in defense 

acquisition history.

2. What does a “good” acquisition program look like? Within the context 

of the battle itself, war-fighting doctrine offers soldiers a clear image of what 

“good” operations look like by synthesizing lessons learned by battlefield 

commanders and war theorists in the past and distilling those lessons learned 

into a simple and understandable set of principles, tenets, and planning processes. Such principles, tenets, and planning processes influence the way military forces train and fight. As an example, military officers are trained 

throughout their careers to design operations that adhere to the Principles of 

War: Mass, Objective, Simplicity, Surprise, Maneuver, Offensive, Unity of 

Command, Security, and Economy of Force. Military operations that adhere 

to these principles are usually seen as good, as they often result in victory on 

the battlefield. Conversely, military operations that violate these principles are 

usually seen as bad, as they usually are associated with a higher risk of the 

failure to achieve combat objectives. Although the weapon systems and technologies soldiers employ in war continue to change, the principles of war are 

timeless; they are as relevant and applicable on the battlefield today as they 

were hundreds of years ago. With this in mind, looking to the realm of defense acquisition (the battle before the battle), what do senior military leaders 

think a “good” acquisition program looks like? It is natural for acquisition 

professionals to focus on achieving cost, schedule, and performance goals, as 

the delivery of a weapon system within such constraints often constitutes a 

“victory” within the defense acquisition system. However, similar to victory 

on the battlefield, the delivery of a weapon system within such constraints 

represents an end-state or outcome. Moreover, similar to victory in battle, 
98

delivering a weapon system “on-time, on-budget, on-performance” does not 

offer any insight into the approach, characteristics, or conditions which may 

have predetermined or at least significantly influenced the ability of an acquisition campaign to achieve its initial cost-schedule-performance goals. Moving forward, Major Fredrickson wants to answer the following: “If there are 

principles or tenets of defense acquisition, what are they? Furthermore, how 

can the DOD align its acquisition campaigns with those principles and tenets 

to maximize chances for success?”

3. Finally, should the DOD explicitly integrate political ends into the 

crafting of acquisition strategy? Within the context of the battle itself, the 

ability for the military commander to have a clear understanding of the political situation and distinguish between “limited” versus “total war” is imperative. Throughout history, governments have employed warfare to achieve 

political aims; therefore, political aims explicitly drive the resources, appetite 

for risk, and priority allocated to war efforts. Therefore, senior military leaders are expected to develop an acute sense of the political context in which a 

conflict is occurring and synchronize military means to achieve the desired 

political ends of the nation’s elected leaders. Major Fredrickson believes the 

same framework can be applied to the defense acquisition system. The acquisition workforce should have a clear understanding that programs are often 

designed, and resources are allocated primarily to achieve political aims. Of 

the three questions, this is the most controversial. However, if the senior military leader views “total war” as the exception and not the rule, then applying 

such an analogy to gain insight into the nature of constraints and limitations 

that exist within the defense acquisition system may offer utility and provide 

rationale for why the system may not be as responsive as the services desire. 

Usually the battles that the DOD fights within the realm of defense acquisition are much more analogous to “limited” war than they are to “total” war. 

Therefore, the DOD is perhaps better served if it crafts acquisition strategy 

with this in mind.

Notes

(All notes appear in shortened form. For full details, see the appropriate entry in the 

bibliography.)

1. “Air Force Senior Leaders Unveil New Priorities.”

2. Betts, “Is Strategy an Illusion,” 39.

3. Nixon, Annual Message to the Congress of the State of the Union.

4. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives.
99

5. Milestone C: The decision to enter production follows development and testing. For DOD, the production decision is normally broken into two DOD decisions: 

(1) Low-Rate Initial Production, called Milestone C by DOD, or Limited Deployment; and (2) the Full-Rate Production or Full Deployment Decision, see https://web

.archive.org/, 7. Milestone B: A decision to award the contract(s) for development. 

Formally, the development contract award authorized at DOD’s Milestone B is the 

critical decision point in an acquisition program because it commits the organization’s resources to a specific product, budget profile, choice of suppliers, contract 

terms, schedule, and sequence of events leading to production and fielding, see 

https://web.archive.org/, 7.

6. Milestone A: Risk Reduction Decision, called Milestone A by DOD, is an investment decision to pursue specific product or design concepts, and to commit the 

resources required to mature technology and/or reduce any risks that must be mitigated before decisions committing the resources needed for development leading to 

production and fielding, see https://web.archive.org/, 7.

7. Packard, “Toward Better Management of the Development and Acquisition of 

New Weapon Systems.” Adapted from testimony before the House Appropriations 

Committee, 18 March 1971, 179.

8. “Moore’s Law is the observation made in 1965 by Gordon Moore, co-founder of 

Intel, that the number of transistors per square inch on integrated circuits had doubled every year since the integrated circuit was invented. Moore predicted that this 

trend would continue for the foreseeable future. In subsequent years, the pace slowed 

down a bit, but data density has doubled approximately every 18 months, and this is 

the current definition of Moore’s Law, which Moore himself has blessed. Most experts, including Moore himself, expect Moore’s Law to hold true until 2020-2025.” 

See https://www.webopedia.com/.

9. Coram, Boyd, 280.

10. Coram, Boyd, 280.

11. “Interview with David Packard, Deputy Secretary of Defense. Military 

Spending: Impact on Business.”

12. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

13. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

14. Watts, Strategy for the Long Haul, 31.

15. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon?”

16. See Operation of the Defense Acquisition System, DOD Instruction 5000.02, 

2003, https://web.archive.org/; Operation of the Defense Acquisition System, DOD Instruction 5000.02, 2008, https://web.archive.org/; and Operation of the Defense Acquisition System, DOD Instruction 5000.02, 2015, https://web.archive.org/.

17. DOD Directive (DODD) 5000.1, Acquisition of Major Defense Systems.

18. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

19. For information on the “Packard Memo” contents, see “Document 46, Action 

Memorandum From K. Wayne Smith of the National Security Council Staff to the 

President’s Assistant for National Security Affairs (Kissinger),” in Foreign Relations of 
100

the United States, 1969–1976, Volume IV, Foreign Assistance, International Development, Trade Policies available at https://history.state.gov/.

20. Packard, “Toward Better Management of the Development and Acquisition of 

New Weapon Systems,” Adapted from testimony before the House Appropriations 

Committee, 18 March 1971, 179–185.

21. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon?”

22. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

23. Press Conference, Deputy Secretary of Defense-Designate David Packard 

with Secretary of Defense-Designate Laird in Washington DC, 30 December 1968.

24. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

25. “483 BC–Athens Builds a Navy,”

26. “483 BC–Athens Builds a Navy,”

27. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

28. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard.” Interview by Dr. Alfred 

Goldberg and Dr. Maurice Matloff. Washington DC: Office of the Secretary of Defense, 9 November 1987. 3.

29. Packard, The HP Way, 168.

30. Packard, The HP Way, 167–68.

31. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 9.

32. Van Atta, With Honor, 5.

33. Van Atta, With Honor, 144.

34. Malone, Bill & Dave, 242–43.

35. Packard, The HP Way, 175.

36. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 5.

37. Packard, The HP Way, 175.

38. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 9.

39. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 10.

40. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 10.

41. Van Atta, With Honor, 145.

42. Press Conference, Deputy Secretary of Defense-Designate David Packard 

with Secretary of Defense-Designate Laird. Washington DC, 30 December 1968.

43. Packard, The HP Way, 185.

44. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 9; Van 

Atta, With Honor, 44.

45. Packard, The HP Way, 7.

46. Packard, The HP Way, 8.

47. Levy, “Biography Revisits Fred Terman’s Roles in Engineering, Stanford, Silicon Valley.”

48. Packard, The HP Way, 33.

49. Packard, The HP Way, 27.

50. Packard, The HP Way, 22-44.

51. Packard, The HP Way, 60.

52. See “Treaty of Rome,” Britannica.com, https://www.britannica.com/.
101

53. Packard, The HP Way, 72.

54. Packard, The HP Way, 122.

55. Packard, The HP Way, 123.

56. Packard, The HP Way, 124.

57. Senate, Nominations of Laird, Packard, and Darden, Hearings before the Committee on Armed Services United States Senate, 39.

58. Packard, The HP Way, 77.

59. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

60. Packard, The HP Way, 140.

61. Packard, The HP Way, 105.

62. Packard, The HP Way, 101.

63. Packard, The HP Way, 102.

64. Packard, The HP Way, 105.

65. Packard, The HP Way, 104.

66. Packard, The HP Way, 108.

67. Eric Wasatonic, “HP Origins #0119.”

68. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

69. Packard, The HP Way, 148.

70. Packard, The HP Way, 152.

71. Packard, The HP Way, xxiii.

72. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”; Beecher, “What Is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon? and “Facts & Figures: Land Area and Facilities.”

73. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen,”; Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing 

Running the Pentagon.”

74. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

75. Comptroller General of the United States, “Table 7-5: Department of Defense 

Manpower.” National Defense Budget Estimates for FY 2017, 258, Comptroller.defense.

gov, https://comptroller.defense.gov/.

76. Comptroller General of the United States, “Table 6-1: Department of Defense TOA by Public Law Title,” National Defense Budget Estimates for FY 2017, 80, 

Comptroller.defense.gov, https://comptroller.defense.gov/.

77. Boyd, “Outward Bound: A Less Complex System.”

78. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 4.

79. Brigham, “Lyndon Johnson vs. the Hawks.”

80. United States Department of State, Office of the Historian “U.S. Involvement 

in the Vietnam War: The Tet Offensive, 1968.”

81. Getler “David Packard.”

82. Cheshire “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

83. Clodfelter, The Limits of Airpower, 112.

84. Doyle, “1967 Soviet Air Show: Naming the Planes.”

85. Getler, “David Packard.”

86. Packard, The HP Way, 176
102

87. “The Stennis Era, 1969–1980.”

88. “The Stennis Era, 1969–1980.”

89. Brigham “Lyndon Johnson vs. the Hawks.”

90. Brigham “Lyndon Johnson vs. the Hawks.”

91. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 8.

92. “Decentralization at the Pentagon.”

93. Packard, The HP Way, 176.

94. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 9.

95. “US Involvement in the Vietnam War: The Tet Offensive, 1968.”

96. Clodfelter, The Limits of Airpower, 134.

97. Clodfelter, The Limits of Airpower, 113–15.

98. Clodfelter, The Limits of Airpower, 115.

99. Clodfelter, The Limits of Airpower, 115.

100. “Packard Sees Arms Balance as Chief Aim.”

101. Doyle, “1967 Soviet Air Show: Naming the Planes.”

102. Doyle, “1967 Soviet Air Show: Naming the Planes.”

103. Gething, Modern Fighting Aircraft: F-15, 4.

104. Gething, Modern Fighting Aircraft: F-15, 4.

105. Gething, Modern Fighting Aircraft: F-15, 4.

106. Fox, Defense Acquisition Reform 1960-2009, 37.

107. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 57.

108. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 26.

109. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 47.

110. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 36.

111. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 36.

112. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 283.

113. Seamans, Robert C. Aiming at Targets, 170.

114. Logan, General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark, 283.

115. Logan, General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark, 9.

116. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 18.

117. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 34.

118. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 41.

119. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 43.

120. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 41.

121. Packard, The HP Way, 179.

122. Griffin, C-5A Galaxy Systems Engineering Case Study, 22.

123. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 35.

124. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 37.

125. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 37.

126. Logan, General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark, 14.

127. Logan, General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark, 36.
103

128. Logan, General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark, 284.

129. Logan, General Dynamics F-111 Aardvark, 286.

130. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 11.

131. Launius and Dvoscak, The C-5 Galaxy History, 6.

132. Griffin, C-5A Galaxy Systems Engineering Case Study, 22.

133. Griffin, C-5A Galaxy Systems Engineering Case Study, 21.

134. Griffin, C-5A Galaxy Systems Engineering Case Study, 21.

135. Fox, Defense Acquisition Reform 1960-2009, 37.

136. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 47.

137. Fox, Defense Acquisition Reform 1960-2009, 37.

138. Fox, Defense Acquisition Reform 1960-2009, 38.

139. “Wicked Problems:” A 2008 US Army document, “Commander’s Appreciation and Campaign Design” is useful the framing the fundamental flaws of concurrency in acquisition. Designed to aid military commander’s conduct sound operational planning, the document identifies three types of problems: well-structured 

“puzzles,” medium-structured “structurally complex problems,” and ill-structured 

“wicked problems.” Initially conceived to characterize socially complex problems, 

concept of “wicked problems”—not wicked in the sense of evil but it terms of being 

extremely difficult—can also be applied to the development of complex weapon systems, such as the F-111 and C-5A. The two easier types of problems, “puzzles” and 

“structurally complex problems” can be solved in one iteration—by learning to perfect a technique or learning to perfect technique and adjusting the solution. For solving a “structurally complex problem,” therefore, adjusting the solution may require a 

redesign of individual components, which is possible within the constraints of the 

original design. In other words, flexibility exists within the original design to adjust, 

redesign, and fix a problematic component or parts. Major redesign is not required. 

However, solving a “wicked problem” conversely requires that an iterative, cyclical 

approach be applied to problem solving, such that the entire original problem be “reframed” entirely. In such instances, major redesign is often required. The concurrent 

approach locks engineers and designers into the original design, preventing them 

from conducting significant re-designs or applying an iterative, cyclical approaches to 

solving the problems at hand. The fatal flaw of concurrency is the inability to iterate 

between the designing and engineering steps at a system level. Prototyping and a sequential approach to development enables engineers to test the design, identify poor 

assumptions or limits in the original design, and go back to the drawing board to 

conduct necessary design changes to the primary architecture of the system.

140. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

141. Miller, General Dynamics F-111, 55.

142. Seamans, Aiming at Targets., 156.

143. News Conference by Secretary of Defense Mel Laird and Deputy Secretary of 

Defense David Packard. Pentagon, 18 February 1969.

144. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 15.

145. “Decentralization at the Pentagon.”
104

146. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

147. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

148. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

149. “Dr. Robert Channing Seamans Jr.,” United States Air Force Official Biography.

150. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 156.

151. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 5.

152. “Dr. John L. McLucas,” United States Air Force Official Biography.

153. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 161–62.

154. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 3.

155. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 11.

156. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

157. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon?”

158. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon?”

159. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 20.

160. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 5.

161. News Conference by Secretary of Defense Mel Laird and Deputy Secretary of 

Defense David Packard.

162. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 256–57.

163. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 259.

164. Comptroller General of the United States, “Table 6-8: Department of Defense Budget Authority by Public Law Title” and “Table 7-5: Department of Defense 

Manpower,” in National Defense Budget Estimates for FY 2017, 133 and 258.

165. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 256.

166. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 256.

167. Deputy Secretary of Defense David Packard Interview for Station WLWT, 

Cincinnati, Ohio, Pentagon, Washington DC., 25 September 1969.

168. “Secretary Packard Impressed with US Forces in Europe.”

169. “Secretary Packard Impressed with US Forces in Europe.”

170. Press Conference. Deputy Secretary of Defense David Packard. Wiesbaden, 

Germany, 10 April 1969.

171. “Main Battle Tank Development Program Reoriented.”

172. Senate. Statement by the Deputy Secretary of Defense Honorable David Packard on the Main Battle Tank Development Program before the Senate Committee on 

Armed Services.

173. Senate. Statement by the Deputy Secretary of Defense Honorable David Packard on the Main Battle Tank Development Program before the Senate Committee on 

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174. Senate. Statement by the Deputy Secretary of Defense Honorable David Packard on the Main Battle Tank Development Program before the Senate Committee on 

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175. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

176. “Main Battle Tank Development Program Reoriented.”
105

177. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

178. Packard, interview with Newsmen in Japan, 6 June 1969, Transcript, Tokyo, 

Japan.

179. Packard, interview with Newsmen in Japan, 6 June 1969, Transcript, Tokyo, 

Japan.

180. . Martinez, “North Korea Shot Down a US plane in 1969, Killing 31 Americans.”

181. Packard, interview with Newsmen in Japan, 6 June 1969. Transcript. Tokyo, 

Japan.

182. News Release. No. 501-69. Office of Assistant Secretary of Defense (Public Affairs), Washington DC. June 12, 1969.

183. News Release. No. 501-69.

184. Harrison, “Packard Wary of S. Koreans’ Arms Request.”

185. Packard, Briefing for the Press on Trip to Korea and Japan, 12 June 1969, 

Transcript, Pentagon, Washington, DC.

186. Harrison, “Packard Wary of S. Koreans’ Arms Request.”

187. Packard, Briefing for the Press on Trip to Korea and Japan.

188. Packard, Briefing for the Press on Trip to Korea and Japan.

189. See Document “29. Editorial Note,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 

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190. See Document “29. Editorial Note.”

191. Nixon, Annual Message to the Congress of the State of the Union, 22 January 

1970.

192. Packard, David, deputy secretary, DOD, letter 24 September 1969, to the 

Honorable L. Mendel Rivers, chairman, House Armed Services Committee.

193. Packard, interview with Station WLWT, Cincinnati, Ohio, 25 September 

1969, Transcript, Pentagon, Washington, DC.

194. Cheshire, “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

195. Comptroller General of the United States “Table 6-4: Department of Defense 

TOA by Major Force Program,” in National Defense Budget Estimates for FY 2017, 101.

196. Posen, “The Sources of Military Doctrine,” 28.

197. Packard, David, (address at the Joint Meeting of the St. Louis Chamber of 

Commerce and the St Louis Chapter, American Ordnance Association, St. Louis, 

MO, 14 April 1970). Transcript. News Release: Office of Assistant Secretary of Defense 

Public Affairs. No 298-70.

198. Packard, David. Interview with Newsmen, 18 July 1969, Transcript, Pentagon, 

Washington, DC.

199. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

200. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

201. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

202. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

203. Packard, (address at the Joint Meeting of the St. Louis Chamber of Commerce and the St Louis Chapter, American Ordnance Association).
106

204. “Interview with David Packard, Deputy Secretary of Defense. Military 

Spending: Impact on Business.”

205. “Interview with David Packard, Deputy Secretary of Defense. Military 

Spending: Impact on Business.”

206. “Interview with David Packard, Deputy Secretary of Defense. Military 

Spending: Impact on Business.”

207. “Interview with David Packard, Deputy Secretary of Defense. Military 

Spending: Impact on Business.”

208. Packard, The HP Way, 179.

209. Van Atta, With Honor, 502.

210. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 20.

211. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 15.

212. Cheshire, “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

213. Cheshire, “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

214. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon.”

215. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

216. Cheshire, “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

217. Cheshire, “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

218. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon.”

219. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon.”

220. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

221. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon.”

222. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends and Myths.”

223. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends and Myths.”

224. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 165.

225. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends and Myths.”

226. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 165.

227. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

228. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 21.

229. Packard, “Toward Better Management of the Development and Acquisition 

of New Weapon Systems,”179.

230. Packard, “Toward Better Management of the Development and Acquisition 

of New Weapon Systems,”179

231. Getler, Michael. “David Packard.”

232. Packard, The HP Way, 100.

233. Packard, The HP Way, 100.

234. Packard, The HP Way, 140.

235. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

236. Boyd, “Outward Bound.”

237. Boyd, “Outward Bound.”

238. Boyd, “Outward Bound.”

239. Boyd, “Outward Bound.”

240. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”
107

241. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

242. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

243. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

244. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 15.

245. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 15.

246. Albright and Schram. “Military Regains Planning Role.”

247. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 3.

248. Cheshire, “The Pentagon’s Powerful No. 2 Man.”

249. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

250. Albright and Schram. “Military Regains Planning Role.”

251. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 5.

252. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

253. “Decentralization at the Pentagon.”

254. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 15.

255. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 15.

256. “Decentralization at the Pentagon.”

257. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 15.

258. “Decentralization at the Pentagon.”

259. “Decentralization at the Pentagon.”

260. Getler, “David Packard.”

261. Albright and Schram, “Military Regains Planning Role.”

262. Albright and Schram, “Military Regains Planning Role.”

263. Albright and Schram, “Military Regains Planning Role.”

264. Albright and Schram, “Military Regains Planning Role.”

265. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 16.

266. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 17.

267. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 17.

268. Packard, David. (address before the Aerospace Industries Association, Williamsburg, VA. News Release. No 432-69, 22 May 1969.

269. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 4.

270. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 4.

271. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

272. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 18.

273. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

274. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

275. Beecher, “What Is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon?”

276. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 162–63.

277. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

278. Getler, “David Packard.”

279. Getler, “David Packard.”

280. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

281. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 30.

282. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 33.
108

283. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 33.

284. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 47.

285. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 85.

286. “Packard’s Effect on Recent Contracts,” 665; Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 14.

287. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

288. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 88.

289. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 45.

290. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 45.

291. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

292. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 89.

293. McIver, The F-14 Contract, 108.

294. Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 11.

295. Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 11.

296. Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 11.

297. Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 11.

298. Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 11.

299. Spick, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 11.

300. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

301. “Packard’s Effect on Recent Contracts,” 665.

302. “Packard’s Effect on Recent Contracts,” 665.

303. Gething, Modern Fighting Aircraft, 7.

304. “Packard’s Effect on Recent Contracts.”

305. “Packard’s Effect on Recent Contracts.”

306. Spick, B-1B, 16.

307. “Packard’s Effect on Recent Contracts.”

308. Beecher, “What is a Man This Rich Doing Running the Pentagon?”

309. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

310. Keatley, “Pentagon Power.”

311. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

312. “Mr. Packard Would Rather Listen.”

313. Van Atta, With Honor, 502.

314. Sbrega, “Southeast Asia,” 414.

315. Crane, American Airpower Strategy in Korea, 1950-1953, 8.

316. Crane, American Airpower Strategy in Korea, 1950-1953, 8.

317. Sbrega, “Southeast Asia,” 411.

318. Sbrega, “Southeast Asia,” 416.

319. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 174.

320. Van Atta, With Honor, 503.

321. Van Atta, With Honor, 503.

322. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 174.

323. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 174.

324. Dahl, “The Warthog,” 4.

325. Sweetman, A-10 Thunderbolt, 8–9.
109

326. Sweetman, A-10 Thunderbolt, 8.

327. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 174.

328. Seamans, Aiming at Targets, 174.

329. Sweetman, A-10 Thunderbolt, 12.

330. Dahl, “The Warthog,” 4.

331. Van Atta, With Honor, 503.

332. Van Atta, With Honor, 503.

333. Winton, The Paths of Heaven, 404.

334. Winton, The Paths of Heaven, 405.

335. Winton, The Paths of Heaven,407.

336. Winton, The Paths of Heaven,407.

337. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

338. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

339. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

340. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

341. Borklund, “Defense Management.”

342. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

343. Getler, “David Packard.”

344. Getler, “David Packard.”

345. “Contractors Selected for Development of Air Force B-1 Advanced Strategic 

Bomber.”

346. Spick, B-1B,18, 39.

347. “Contractors Selected for Development of Air Force B-1 Advanced Strategic 

Bomber.”

348. Packard, David, deputy secretary, Department of Defense, to Robert Seamans, secretary of the air force, memorandum, 5 June 1970.

349. Packard to Seamans, memorandum.

350. Borklund, “Defense Procurement Trends.”

351. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

352. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

353. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

354. Spick, B-1B, 23.

355. Spick, B-1B, 23.

356. Spick, B-1B, 21.

357. “Using the Trick that Built U-2s”.

358. Epigraph, Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions;” Packard, DODD 5000.1, 13.

359. Packard, DODD 5000.1, 1.

360. Packard, DODD 5000.1, 5.

361. Packard, DODD 5000.1, 5.

362. Packard, DODD 5000.1, 6.

363. Packard, “Toward Better Management of the Development and Acquisition 

of New Weapon Systems,” 179.
110

364. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

365. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

366. “Decision Maker,” 32-33.

367. “Decision Maker,” 32.

368. “Decision Maker,” 32.

369. “Decision Maker,” 32.

370. “Decision Maker,” 32.

371. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

372. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

373. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

374. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

375. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

376. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

377. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

378. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

379. Pace, “Eugine Fubini, 84”; Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons 

Acquisitions.”

380. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

381. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

382. Kudock, “DOD Sets New Policy on Weapons Acquisitions.”

383. Getler, “David Packard.”

384. Hunt, Melvin Laird and the Foundation for the Post-Vietnam Military, 257, 349.

385. Getler, “David Packard.”

386. “Missiles . . . Troops Overseas . . . Naval Forces—What Nixon Defense Study 

Turned Up,” 675.

387. “Missiles . . . Troops Overseas . . . Naval Forces—What Nixon Defense Study 

Turned Up,” 675.

388. “Missiles . . . Troops Overseas . . . Naval Forces—What Nixon Defense Study 

Turned Up,” 675.

389. “Missiles . . . Troops Overseas . . . Naval Forces—What Nixon Defense Study 

Turned Up,” 675.

390. “Missiles . . . Troops Overseas . . . Naval Forces—What Nixon Defense Study 

Turned Up,” 675.

391. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 24.

392. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972.

393. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 2.

394. Packard, The HP Way, 181–82.

395. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 5-10.

396. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 22.

397. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 11-15.

398. “Timing had been one of the great challenges in electronics ever since the 

Second World War.” World War II had spurred the rapid growth of communication 

technologies, with every communication protocol requiring exact synchronization of 
111

the signal between the transmitter and the receiver. Quartz-crystal oscillators encountered two problems. First, they had to be regularly recalibrated as frequency drift 

increased with age, temperature, and environment. Second, commercial and defense 

demand was rapidly approaching the physical limits of quartz crystals themselves. 

Atomic clocks were developed by the end of the 1950s, however, their long-term reliability was unproven and they were too expensive and complicated for commercial 

and defense market applications. HP introduced the model 5060A for widerapplication in 1964. It was a considerable technological breakthrough with “breathtaking” accuracy: less than one second of error in 3,000 years. As of 2006, descendants of the 5060A still accounted for 80 percent of the world’s standardized 

timekeeping, with HP cesium clocks used for critical timing tasks in NASA space 

missions, the testing and fusing of nuclear weapons, telecommunications, airplane 

collision avoidance systems, deep-space astronomical measurements, and countless 

other applications. Other nations, both friend and foe, were believed to start intelligence operations in Silicon Valley as a result of the HP 5060A: The Soviet Union, 

China, Taiwan, Japan, France, Germany, and Israel. HP’s cesium clock “took the issue 

of security to a whole new level.” In Malone, Bill & Dave, 204–206.

399. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 17.

400. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 541.

401. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 49.

402. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 27.

403. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 542.

404. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 27.

405. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 544.

406. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 18.

407. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 542.

408. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 543.

409. Coram, Richard. Boyd, 305–306.

410. Packard, The HP Way, 182.

411. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 12.

412. “Oral History Interview with Mr. David Packard,” 12.

413. Senate. Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 43.

414. Packard, The HP Way, 181.

415. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 521.

416. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 519.

417. How much influence did Packard have on John Boyd? In Boyd’s later years, 

his advice for organizational culture, structure, leadership, and communication processes mirrored many aspects of Packard’s suggested “adaptive” management approach for advanced prototypes. One scholar notes that “Boyd not was not an airpower theorist; his work has a much broader scope and aim.” He points to Boyd’s 

presentation titled Organic Design for Command and Control, which illustrated how 

Boyd advocated for “adaptable, open learning organizations consisting of people with 

varied background cooperating in informally networked teams,” whereby “each level 
112

and each unit must have autonomy and repertoire of resources it needs to enable individual initiative and creativity.” Many would also call this The HP Way, a method 

Packard had been employing for decades in the Silicon Valley. From Osinga, “The 

Enemy as a Complex Adaptive System: John Boyd and Airpower in the Postmodern 

Era,” in Airpower Reborn: The Strategic Concepts of John Warden and John Body, 73.

418. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 19.

419. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 19.

420. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 20.

421. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 33.

422. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 23.

423. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 23.

424. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 19.

425. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 31.

426. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 31.

427. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 31.

428. House, Department of Defense Appropriations for 1972, 547.

429. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 33.

430. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 34.

431. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 37.

432. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 38.

433. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 46.

434. Senate, Advanced Prototype Initiatives, 12.

435. Clodfelter, The Limits of Airpower, 85–88.

436. In The Masks of War: American Military in Strategy and Analysis, RAND 

analyst Carl H. Builder posits that the dominant concepts of war held by military institutions have a significant effect upon the kinds of forces they acquire and train, and 

therefore, the kinds of war they are prepared to fight. Dominant concepts include, for 

the US Army: From Normandy to the collapse of Germany; For the US Air Force: 

Gaining air superiority over Germany in early 1944 . . .; “For the US Navy: The last 

year of WWII in the Pacific, a fleet 100 carriers strong . . . Midway may have been its 

most decisive victory, but during the last year, it could do what it wanted, the way it 

wanted to do them.” In Builder, Masks of War, 128, 132.

437. Stevenson, The Pentagon Paradox, 122–23.

438. Stevenson, The Pentagon Paradox, 133–34.

439. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 10.

440. Packard, to President Richard Nixon, letter.

441. Nixon, to Packard, letter.

442. Packard, to the press, memorandum.

443. Packard, to the press, memorandum.

444. “Packard Says ‘No’ on Defense.”

445. “Packard Is Undecided On Heading Pentagon;” “Packard Seen Likely to be 

Defense Chief;” and “Packard Called Probable New Defense Chief.”
113

446. “Nixon to Packard: An Offer He Can’t Refuse?”

447. “Packard Is Expected to Reluctantly Agree to Nixon Request That He Head 

Pentagon.”

448. Packard to the press, memorandum.

449. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 3.

450. “Defense Acquisition Reform: Where Do We Go from Here?” 4–6.

451. Mattis, “USFJCOM Commander’s Guidance for Effects-Based Operations,” 19.

452. Butkus, “Packard: Defense on a Diet.”

453. Tirpak, “Clear of Turbulence?”

454. Tirpak, “Clear of Turbulence?”

455. Tirpak, “Clear of Turbulence?”

456. Tirpak, “Clear of Turbulence?”

457. Tirpak, “Clear of Turbulence?”

458. “Defense Acquisition Reform” 4–6.

459. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 10.

460. Offsets: To build strategic relationships in key markets, domestic and international, defense companies may outsource bigger and bigger chunks of their products to achieve ‘offsets.’ Through offsets, defense companies strengthen their political 

position to win defense contracts, but at the same time embrace ‘increased risk’ and 

‘decreased control’ during product development. It is unsure whether customers (the 

DOD or foreign militaries) are aware of risks associated with increased supply chain 

complexity, but in many instances incentives within the defense acquisition system 

support or even dictate this behavior.

461. Packard, epigraph, transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 11.

462. Fox, Defense Acquisition Reform 1960-2009, 37; Senate, Testimony of Honorable Frank Kendall.

463. Sun Tzu: The Art of War.

464. Packard, Epigraph, Transcript from (address at the Forrestal Award Dinner, 

Washington, DC, 9 March 1972), 12.
114

Abbreviations Abbreviation Definition

AFSC Air Force Systems Command

AMST Advanced Medium Short Take-off and Landing

AWACS Airborne Warning and Control System

C2 Command and Control

CAS Close Air Support

CPIF Cost-Plus-Incentive-Fee

DCP Development Concept Paper

DDR&E Defense Research and Engineering

DEPSEC Deputy Secretary of Defense

DOD Department of Defense

DODD Department of Defense Directive

DPM Defense Presidential Memorandum

DPRC Defense Program Review Committee

DSARC Defense Systems Acquisition Review Council

ECM Electronic Countermeasure

FLIR Forward-Looking-Infared

FPIP Fixed-Price-Incentive-Firm

FPIS Fixed-Price-Incentive-with-Successive-Targets

GE General Electric

HP Hewlett-Packard

ICBM Intercontinental Ballistic Missile

ISIS Islamic State in Iraq and Syria

JCS Joint Chiefs of Staff

LP Laird-Packard

LWF Lightweight Fighter

MBO Management by Objectives

MBT Main Battle Tank

MDA Milestone Decision Authority

MiG Mikoyan-Gurevich (Soviet aircraft)

NFL National Liberation Front

NSC National Security Council
115

Abbreviation Definition

NSSM National Security Study Memorandum

OSA Office of Systems Analysis

OSD Office of the Secretary of Defense

PEO Program Executive Officer

PGM Precision Guided Missiles

POM Program Objective Memorandum

PPBE Planning, Programming, Budgeting, and Execution

R&D Research and Development

RCS Radar Cross Section

RDT&E Research, Development, Test, and Evaluation

RFP Requests for Proposal

ROK Republic of Korea

SALT Strategic Arms Limitations Talks

SECDEF Secretary of Defense

STOL Short Take-off and Landing

TAC Tactical Air Command

TPP Total Package Procurement

TRADOC Training and Doctrine Command

USS United States Ship

WHO White House

YHP Yokogawa-Hewlett-Packard
116

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