This speech was published in the November 1, 2005, issue of "Vital Speeches of the Day."

Dr. Ralph Shrader

Thank you, Dean Hori.

I always enjoy visiting the top schools Booz Allen recruits from, and given the shared history between our two institutions, being here at Kellogg is very special.

As Dean Hori mentioned, the James L. Allen Center that we're gathered in right now, was endowed by Booz Allen Hamilton's founding partner, Jim Allen.

Last year, Booz Allen celebrated its 90th anniversary. And, one of the things I point to as evidence of our success and stability as an institution — is that, in 91 years, our firm has had only seven Chairman. I'm number seven. Being in such rare company is both an honor and an obligation. I'm deeply proud to lead a firm that has made such an impact on clients.

Three of Booz Allen's seven chairman graduated from Northwestern — Ed Booz and Jim Allen in the early 20th century, and my predecessor, Bill Stasior in the 1960s.

Although I didn't go to school here, I greatly appreciate the ties between our institutions — and want to share a story about these ties with you.

After Jim Allen died in 1992, we created this commemorative bookletabout him, which contains first-hand stories from those who knew him well.

One is from Bill Stasior, who served as Booz Allen's Chairman and CEO from 1991 to 1999.

"A few weeks after I was elected Chairman, I went to see Jim Allen in Florida. We talked about the firm, the partnership, and clients — and also about our alma mater, since both of us attended Northwestern. And we talked about golf, a passion Jim and I shared. I was able to attend Northwestern because of a scholarship program for caddies started by the famous amateur golfer, Chick Evans. During our meeting in Florida, I learned that Jim Allen was one of the founding contributors of the Evans scholar program. I was struck by what a small world this really is, and how, without Jim's generosity, I probably wouldn't have gone to college."

I remember Bill telling me that story when he came back from the trip to Florida. Bill and I both attended college and graduate school on scholarship — and we felt very indebted to those who had sponsored those scholarships. When Bill learned that Jim Allen had started the Evans scholar program at Northwestern, it was an amazing — and far-reaching — coincidence.

I had the privilege to meet Jim Allen several times. The most memorable occasion was when he spoke to our employees in Washington in 1983. He talked about success and service — and the text of his remarks, published in a pamphlet called "The Spirit of Service," is still a best-seller within our firm today. Jim Allen finished his remarks that day by donning a Washington Redskins t-shirt and joining us in a resounding chorus of "Hail to the Redskins." Everyone who was there remembers how relevant and practical his message was, and how personally he connected with each of us.

Personal connection and the spirit of service play strongly into the theme I'd like to discuss this evening.

From the "come-on" line on the posters for tonight's talk, you might be wondering what "the big question that will surprise you" — is. So, I'll get straight to the punch line — and then explain why I believe this is such a key question. Afterwards, I'm happy to take your questions on any subject — Q&A is always my favorite part of my campus visits. So, without further delay, I believe the central question of life is this:

"Will you love me tomorrow?"

I can see from your faces that many of you are surprised. Some of you who listen to oldies might recognize it as the title of a hit by the great singer-songwriter of my generation, Carole King. While she wrote the song as a ballad to romantic love, I believe the question is profound on a much broader level. Every day, each of us asks this question over and over. We ask it of others — and they of us. It's what we're wondering about our boss or professor — and about our family members and friends: "Will they love me tomorrow?"

It's what CEOs whose jobs are on the line are asking of their Boards and of analysts on Wall Street. It's what elected officials are continually asking — and what we, their constituents, will vote on in a week. Taken to the level of geopolitics, countries ask "will you love me tomorrow" as a question of national security.

This "big question" really came home to me when I was wrestling with the challenge of leading staff. I found that the only approach that succeeded was "high touch" — giving lots of time and attention to those who worked for me. When I was hiring people, I needed to connect with them both intellectually and emotionally. And, if someone quit, I took it personally — I made them "quit me," not just the company.

And, to come down to what it means to you, I believe "Will you love me tomorrow" is a key question to keep in mind as you explore new career opportunities, and make work-life balance choices.

Since the answer we all want to hear is "yes," then, how do we get to "yes"?

I believe we do so by investing in relationships, and by using our time and talents in service to others.

This doesn't mean living in monk-like self-sacrifice apart from the world, and it doesn't mean flattering and glad-handing to win a popularity contest. It does mean understanding that success is not a solo venture, but is a collaborative pursuit of the greater good.

Answering "yes" is an affirmation based on mutual trust, dependability, and optimism about the future. Each of us has our own list of the qualities that matter most — the ones that enable us to say yes to the question, "will you still love me tomorrow."

My list of the key qualities that get to "yes" are: Is this person:

• Authentic?
• Dependable?
• Positive?

It's critical to me that a person be authentic — to have a consistent way of behaving, visible values, even personality traits or favorite quirks — that stay constant. I trust my wife, colleagues, and friends to have enduring qualities — an essence that endures day after day, year after year. That's what authenticity means to me, and it's one element of my answer to the question, "will I still love them tomorrow."

The second thing that's vitally important to me is dependability. I need to feel I can count on someone — through thick or thin. Dependability may sound kind of boring, but dependability separates the glad-handers and yes-people from the friends and colleagues that you want "ON your island" ... or your project team... or together on an adventure. Dependable people have talents and use them unselfishly.

The third thing that gets a "yes" from me is people who are positive. I'm not saying the person has to be "the life of the party" — in fact, in a lot of situations, that can get old and tiring pretty fast. Some of the most positive people I know are quietly optimistic — they are supportive and solution-oriented, and add to the positive karma of a group or situation.

So, these three attributes — authentic, dependable, positive — make up my relationship quotient leading to a definite "yes" to the question, "Will you love me tomorrow."

Your list of attributes is just as valid, and I'd encourage you to think about what they are — what's most important to you in your relationships with other people. And, then apply those same criteria as a guidepost for how you want to measure up to them. I'll be the first to admit that I occasionally fall short of my criteria — when it happens, it's the last one. I believe I'm consistently authentic and dependable, but once in a while, after a particularly frustrating day, I've been told I fall short at being positive. But, I'm working on it. Golf helps!

I'd like to finish my remarks with the story of a good friend — someone I and many others could always answer "yes" about to the big question. His name is Luke Capone, and he died four weeks ago. Luke was a character — a very accomplished character. He joined Booz Allen after an illustrious career in the US Navy, rising to the rank of Rear Admiral.

I remember the first time I met Luke — I hired him to work for me at Booz Allen to open a new market in defense communications. Working with Luke was an experience. He had superb insight into the problems facing national security and the communications industry — and how those sectors could work together for solutions. But listening to Luke explain issues was more like listening to a gregarious bartender than a senior partner. Instead of real names or pronouns, Luke always called players, "Aardvark" and "Snodgrass." He threatened to throw competitors "off of Key Bridge" in Washington. And he told the same jokes over and over — and we laughed at the same jokes over and over.

Whether we were working a major client problem — like getting all the US telecommunications carriers to cooperate on national security issues after the divestiture of AT&T, or helping develop the next-generation of leaders at Booz Allen, or celebrating a big win — Luke was always authentic, dependable, and positive.

Even his jet black hair at the age of 80 was authentic because it was so true to him. Luke was dependable — to nail a client oral presentation or stand beside you in a tough personnel decision. And, he was positive — and spread his optimism and creativity to everyone in the room.

We recently had a large meeting in Baltimore at which Booz Allen's pop band, called "Franklin Gothic" performed and they dedicated their performance to Luke, who was a great musician who could not pass a piano without sitting down at it. Luke's picture was projected on the tele-screens behind the drums, and a black sash was draped on the corner of Franklin Gothic's banners. So, here they were singing and jamming for the evening entertainment — and dedicating their performance to an 80-year-old retired partner, because he had been such a vibrant part of their lives and careers. Luke had left us, but back in Baltimore, we were singing "yes" — "we will love you tomorrow."

Luke Capone and Jim Allen understood that the big question — "will you love me tomorrow" — is asked hour after hour, day after day. They understood that it's even asked after we've left this world behind. And, they understood that the way to "yes" was to use their time and talents in service to others.

So, here's the thought I want to leave us with tonight: Let's be less pre-occupied with our own concerns and personal success. Instead, let's think about how we can use our time and talents to make a difference to others. When we do, I'm convinced we will hear — in our homes, our offices, and our communities — a resounding "Yes — We WILL Still Love You Tomorrow."