by Stephen O’Connor (photo by Kevin Harkins)

When my daughter Molly was twelve years old, I asked, “Do you have a school song?”

“No,” she said, “but we have a mission statement.”

I had no idea that my daughter and her classmates were on a mission.

When I was a kid, only soldiers and secret agents had missions. In the movies, officers with pointers stood in front of huge maps of Normandy to explain the mission. Then there was the weekly mission that was outlined on a tiny tape recorder that self-destructed. Those missions, though impossible, were carried out in less than an hour.

The most impressive mission statement that I remember was that of the starship Enterprise. “Its five-year mission, to seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before.”  I’ll bet you’re already hearing the music in your head. Star Trek was supposed to take place in the distant future, yet they couldn’t predict that the phrase “no man” would already be unacceptable before William Shatner had retired from acting. Later Star Trek generations went on a non-sexist intergalactic mission.

The other great mission people my age remember was that of the Blues Brothers. We may not remember exactly what their mission was, but we all remember who sent them. They were “on a mission from God.”

Before we had mission statements, we used to have simple mottos, usually in Latin. My college had a good motto: Ad astra per aspera: “To the stars, through difficulties.” Simple, yet inspiring.

What better mission statement could Ernest Shackleton have had than his own family motto: “Through endurance, we conquer.”  Mottos deflate the hot air; they are usually two to five words. The U.S. Marine Corps – Semper Fi. That’s all you need to know.

The Grateful Dead had three words:  Keep on Truckin’. The narrator in Joseph Conrad’s story “Youth” relates how his ship’s motto helped him to face and survive a horrific night at sea. Through howling winds and towering seas, he kept repeating the words on the ship’s stern: “Judea. London. Do or Die.”

My family, the O’Connors, have a motto in Irish, A dhia gach an cabhair, “From God comes every help.”  Which is why people often say, “Here comes O’Connor. God help us.”

But mottos are out; mission statements are in.

This new craze started about twenty years ago. It was not just The Blues Brothers, or Mission Impossible operatives, or Star Trek space explorers who needed a mission. Every school, company, and organization needed a mission, spelled out in a mission statement that had to be hung up somewhere, placed on a website, or in my daughter’s case, recited every Friday before the Pledge of Allegiance. The first prerequisite for a mission statement is that it has to sound—the words “high-fallutin’” come to mind, even though I have no idea what fallutin’ means.

The statement should not be in the parlance of common men and women. It should fall somewhere between bombastic and ethereal. If you’re having trouble generating a mission statement for your company, there is a mission statement generator at Dilbert.com. “Our mission is to continue to professionally pursue market-driven catalysts for change in order that we may quickly initiate interdependent materials for 100% customer satisfaction.” That’s a sample, but every time you click the generator, you get a new one, all full of the requisite BS for a world where BS is the currency of the realm.

Now that every school, company, club and organization has a mission statement, motivational speakers are urging all of us to adopt a “personal mission statement.” At the Franklin Covey website, you can use the “personal mission statement builder wizard” to get one. The web site states: “Our Mission Builder exercise can help to add focus, direction, and a sense of purpose to your daily decisions. The wizard will take you step-by-step through the process of creating a unique, personalized Mission Statement to guide your life.”

I’m just not equal to the commitment that a full-fledged personal mission statement would require. If I did want one, I wouldn’t go to a website; I’ve always been more than capable of generating my own BS.

However, after careful consideration I’ve decided in lieu of a mission statement to begin with a simple personal motto, the spirit of which has guided me up to this point through the complexities of life. I intend to paint it on the stern of my ship.

O’Connor. Lowell. Muddle Through.