When the space shuttle Columbia was destroyed during its re-entry to the Earth’s atmosphere in 2003, Lt. Col. Tracy Dillinger was one of a team of expert astronauts, physicists, military officers, and psychologists called together to investigate the cause. The six-month investigation revealed that the accident could not be attributed to technical malfunction alone, but that organizational and human factors played a role as well. As a clinical and organizational psychologist, Dr. Dillinger was involved in identifying those factors, which included issues of communication, trust, and decision-making.

It was not her first experience investigating a high-profile aviation mishap. As chief of Air Force aviation psychology at Kirtland Air Force Base in New Mexico, she had participated in numerous accident investigations—sometimes as many as two or three a month during her five years in the position.

“It can be a pretty intense experience, particularly when you’re working on an investigation that has so much public attention,” she says. “But it’s a good example of the kind of unique role that a psychologist can play in the military.”

Dr. Dillinger’s Air Force career, which began as an intern and progressed to her current assignment as manager of safety culture at NASA, has also represented her evolution from a clinical to an organizational psychologist. Although she completed her Psy.D. with the intention of pursuing a career as a clinical practitioner, her focus changed as she moved through the ranks and posts of Air Force life.

The progression just happened as opportunities presented themselves, she says. Although she maintains her clinical licensure as a link to the direct service career that is now part of her past, she admits that there are some parts of that life—like middle-of-the- night trips to the emergency room when a client is in crisis—that she doesn’t miss.

“In some ways, organizational psychology isn’t that different, though,” she says. “It’s just that your patient is an organization. You still need to assess strengths and weaknesses and figure out how to treat it. It’s about changing your perspective.”

The daughter of two psychologists, she decided early in life that she would follow in her parents’ footsteps. Although she began working as a crisis center volunteer at 18, she deliberately slowed her academic pace, completing a master’s degree before enrolling in The Chicago School’s five-year clinical Psy.D. program.

“I didn’t want to hang a shingle out at 24, she says. “Psychology is not a novice’s profession. There’s a lot that goes into being a good therapist and managing a patient load and I wanted to make sure I was really ready. I was much more comfortable entering the profession at 30.” Her decision to join the military came in response to a tragedy—the suicide of a friend who had battled PTSD since his return from Vietnam.

“It was a personally motivating event for me. I decided right then and there that I wanted to be in the military, as a practicing psychologist, so that I could help identify people who were suffering and do something about it before it was too late.” Her choice was reinforced, she says, as she watched international problems escalate and saw the need for good professional psychologists in the inner circle of government and military leadership. “You can’t dictate change from the outside—I wanted to be on the inside where I could be part of helping leaders make good decisions.”