This article was originally published by the Princeton University Press.
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Renewing the Civic Bargain
Category: Featured
Public statues falling everywhere. Robert E. Lee, Christopher Columbus, Thomas Jefferson, and more—memorialized leaders yanked to the ground, no longer heroes to angry crowds demonstrating this summer for racial justice. So which bronze effigies deserve to be (literally) knocked off their pedestal? Or, perhaps less clear, what happens after that? It’s easy enough to decry a general, or statesman or explorer’s historical sins with today’s sharpened retrospection: but what kind of leaders should replace the fallen? Should our public spaces still be graced with grand effigies of leaders at all? (President Trump has meanwhile pondered whether his own likeness should be added to Mount Rushmore).
Expect the broader debate about celebrating—or not celebrating—particular leaders to rage on, raising ever more inflamed emotion. For a cooling pause, and some scholarly perspective, I reached out to Cornell professor Barry Strauss, an esteemed author of page-turning studies of many historical leaders (most recently Ten Caesars: Simon & Schuster, 2019). Our conversation focused on two questions: What can we learn from past civilizations about erecting public monuments to leaders? And how can such lessons inform America’s future commemorations?
Patterns Through History
Strauss first cautioned: “Every civilization has its own political values—lessons about monuments must be contextualized. But there are some common patterns. Also, we need to look beyond statues. Through history leaders have been promoted by whole systems of images and rituals: ceremonies, coins, religious buildings, different forms of art, education.”
As we proceeded, the discussion yielded several insights:
1. Autocracies and democracies monumentalize leaders differently—but always to influence a public audience. Professor Strauss contrasted civilizations like pharaonic Egypt and imperial Rome vs those of ancient Athens or America’s republic: in the former, awe-inspiring projection of a larger-than-life ruler vs in democracies, celebration of distinguished citizens who triumphed serving the people. “But in both cases, you still see promotion of certain heroic values—e.g., strength, courage, or perhaps mercy or duty; and an effort to elevate the leader to a higher plane. In autocracies, statues communicate a mixture of divine reverence and fear; democratic nations tend to inspire more human admiration. But for both the message is always educational—shaping opinions through public images and symbols.”
2. As the politics and values of a nation change, so will its monuments. Thus the central question of today’s debates in America: are we in the midst of a transformation that calls for new approaches in choosing leaders to celebrate? Or are today’s demonstrations more ephemeral, unlikely to affect enduring ideas of historical heroes (Confederate generals perhaps excepted)?
“It’s too soon to know,” Strauss warned. “But ancient Rome has some lessons about how shifting values can play out over time. Early Roman civilization was small and rough: there were few public statues, but instead elaborate funerals for members of the aristocratic families that controlled the state. Later, when Rome grew through conquest, public statues of successful generals started to appear, enhanced by other hero-promotion, like triumphal parades, and god-like images of leaders on coins—a practice Julius Caesar adapted from Alexander the Great in Hellenistic Greece.”
“But when the Emperor Augustus ended the Roman civil wars, he deliberately transformed the cult of warrior personalities, shifting his own public image towards “peaceful divinity” and also endorsing family and more traditional Roman values. The reliefs of his famous Altar of Peace were a brilliant blend of old and new, divine and human, and men buttressed by strong women—signaling his wish for a new era of the imperial culture.”
How will America communicate its own transitions? Will America someday have its own Augustus to help us on our way?
3. Abstraction can sometimes be more powerful than celebrating individual leaders. “The Great Pyramids were a monumental symbol of the strict hierarchical power of ancient Egyptian kings—built by thousands of workers who owed labor to an omnipotent pharaoh. But they were also a public boast to instill cultural pride, like America landing a man on the moon.”
“Consider also classical Athenians, which celebrated the civic dignity of their democracy: sculpting images of anonymous citizens in procession on parts of the great Parthenon; or, in another famous relief, depicting the demos symbolically—the common people as a wise man, crowned by the god of Democracy itself.”
4. Monumental messages can be subtle or even ambiguous. Iconoclastic attacks on contemporary statues may miss the deeper history of their intended messages: “Alexander the Great enhanced his public charisma by managing minute details in all his images, like a modern consumer brand: his hair always windswept, no beard (unlike most Greek men)—indicating a vigorous and eternally young ruler.
He also ennobled particular lieutenants with their own statues, signaling the value of royal loyalty. He was relentless in his messaging.”
Historical monuments can have multiple meanings. “Many Civil War Confederate generals were memorialized in racist support of Jim Crow laws. But some monuments were also dedicated in the spirit of reconciliation, echoing Lincoln’s hope of ‘malice towards none.’” Consider also the silent message of non-monuments—who is and who is not being commemorated: “After the American Revolution there were no statues erected of loyalists who had supported the Crown, even though many were once distinguished citizens. And post WW II Italy is a story of commemorations that should have been removed but weren’t: unlike Nazi monuments almost universally destroyed in Germany, some Italian fascist monuments were sometimes left standing. You can still see some today.”
5. Judge public monuments in the context of the broader national narrative. On the eve of the American Revolution, rabble-rousing patriots in New York pulled down a gilded statue of King George III— a rejection of kingly power of the sort that led to our war of independence. But at the time, nobody knew if and when a new American democracy would be born. But it was, and thus the story of toppling King George can today be added to our national narrative. And of course, so was the other George (Washington) who fought the war and then became our first president.
Today, the second George is now under attack for himself owning slaves: are we on our way to another revolution, that will somehow explain our historical past with a different and more relevant narrative?
Professor Strauss commented with some appropriately sober academic judgment: “We can’t predict the future, but we should honestly confront the reality of today—America is clearly having a debate about the story of its history, and ultimately the story of America itself. It’s been going on since the 1960s, and we’re not near any resolution yet. We shouldn’t be surprised—our society has gone through huge change—greater social freedom for many constituencies (people of color, women, gay people, etc.), lots more immigration and new values, more social inequality. There’s also an ongoing conflict between older generations and the values they hold dear, and a rising younger generation that sees our world very differently. Controversies about statues and leaders are ultimately just signals of deeper clashes about our national story.”
So Where Do We Go From Here?
I closed by pressing this Cornell historian a bit more—what’s the right way to find our new national story, and agree the right heroes to celebrate therein?
He first offered some sound procedural suggestions (forming a diverse and multi-generational, multi-local commission, facilitating a national conversation, blending expert opinions with those of everyday citizens, etc.) But his final thoughts were wisest of all: “We have to engage many different opinions—but ultimately find some common thread, a shared unity that ties us together as a national community. Our future story should combine the best elements of the past, with more forward-looking ideas—respecting the valued core of yesterday but also informed by real innovation now underway. The Romans built a thousand-year civilization on that basis. There’s no reason we can’t reconceive our democratic society the same way.”
Originally published on Forbes.com
Once upon a time, many thought the internet would spawn a digital democratic utopia: harmonious, boundary-spanning decision-making, reflecting liberty and equality in a global community of “netizens.” Today, sadly, we witness identity theft, cyber-bullying, manipulative analytics, fake news, and authoritarian surveillance— hacking elections and polarizing open societies. Social media companies are hiring thousands of editors to fight hate speech and robotic information corruption, while U.S. state election commissions are scrambling to reinstate paper ballots. Will today’s democracy survive the onslaught of technology-delivered malice?
Yes, maybe: but only if we stop blaming bits and bytes, forget about “global democracy,” and instead tackle the structural deficits of our current representative systems of national self-governance. Thus argues Dr. Roslyn Fuller, a Canadian-Irish academic lawyer and author of the new In Defence of Democracy.
This lively polemic asserts that the problem for western civic societies is not so much defending against hostile and abusive use of technology. Instead, it’s failing to use technology to rediscover what democracy should be for the modern nation state: citizens participating personally in public debate and having meaningful say in policy decisions that affect them—without the distorting and corruptible role of legislative proxies or elitist agency officials. If we’re going to defend—and keep alive—democracy today, she insists, we need a revolution: go back to what the ancient Athenians invented in the 5th century BCE, where every citizen regularly participated in discussion and voting for the laws that would steer their livelihoods and survival. Dr. Fuller believes new technology and communication tools can now provide the means to scale up for millions of people what ancient Athenians did with perhaps (at most) 50,000 citizens.
The book builds on Fuller’s earlier research, further detailing her back-to-the-future proposition. Her central premise is that any modern representative democracy— e.g. U.S. constitutional government, or Britain’s “monarch-lite” parliamentary model—will inevitably slide towards a gridlocked, gerrymandered, influence-peddled partisan morass. “The small number of seats in legislatures serving a major population means elections aren’t really representative—allowing money to grow in influence, which in turn sets up factional fighting and winner-take-all strategies. Meanwhile, what these representatives discuss is increasingly out of touch with most common people’s priorities—leading to rising frustration, disengagement, and declining voter turnout. Which then invites more winner-take-all by powerful interests and increasing partisan focus on policy that entrenches elites. To break the cycle we have to authentically give power back to the people.”
Re-imagining Reinvention
Yes it’s blue sky, and of course fraught with a host of implementation issues (e.g. levels of geographical engagement, infrastructure design, process protocols, security assurances, discussion moderation, etc.). But take a moment to consider other alternatives: what will it actually take “to fix today’s democracy?” Is limiting campaign contributions, changing the tax code, or reforming the Electoral College going to be enough to rebuild freedom, equality, and the pursuit of happiness across America?
Here are five further insights from our conversation for your own imaginative reflections:
1. Technology for large-scale, direct democracy is less about elections and more about empowering policy debate and decision-making en masse. Fuller acknowledges the problems of hacked balloting and cyber-meddling—but no election reform will solve the bigger problem of disconnected citizens working through proxies: “A few hundred legislative members or a president can be easily corrupted by rich powerful lobbies. Which now happens every day. Also, the current pace of decision-making, and the two- or four-year cycle of change in representative government can’t keep up with the global economy. Using technology to give millions of citizens direct involvement in policy-making is faster and more flexible. And lobbyists can’t bribe or intimidate the population of an entire nation state.”
2. Our corrosive political media thrives because virtual conversations are untethered from policy consequences. “Yes of course,” Fuller acknowledged, “we need safeguards against cyber-bullying and moneyed and foreign influence shaping opinion. But Facebook diatribes, Twitter wars, and cable shout-fests keep growing because people can’t turn their own strongly held opinions into action. Give citizens a real say in policy-making, and the cyber negativity will decline.”
3. Reforming democracy with technology-scaled participation requires practical citizen education. Everyone agrees that improving our political system calls for better “civic knowledge” across the population. But that can’t just be more high-school courses on “how a bill becomes a law.” Dr. Fuller argues from another lesson of ancient Athenians: “Education has to be learn-by-doing for all the citizens, all the time: participating in public debate, developing your own opinions by hearing and joining arguments, and observing the consequences of decisions—which are often painful.”
“A lot of American and European cities are successfully experimenting with this form of practical civic education with ‘participatory (or open) budgeting’—allowing citizens to debate and decide how to allocate the public money of their community. The process creates vivid civic lessons about the prioritizing and compromising necessary in a democratic society.”
4. Mass engagement could rebuild fractured communities. Fuller also argues for second-order effects of mass engagement. If millions of citizens participate in political decisions—with appropriate facilitation, rules and encouragement (including some offsetting compensation)— the process can help temper partisan divisions, and build new civic relationships. “When the outcomes of debates concretely effect people’s future, citizens learn to listen to one another, and work for solutions that everyone has to live with. They see that, instead of always pushing for ‘the scientifically perfect answer,’ sometimes accepting compromise can bring other people in, and unify support. Joining together for action strengthens community bonds.”
5. Transformation will depend on leaders with a vision for challenge and excellence. “We need a new generation of politicians who can create a positive vision of what democracy can do. A citizenry responds to challenge—like that posed by John Kennedy’s legendary speech in 1962 to America: ‘We choose to go the moon in this decade, and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard.’”
“And we also have to get away from today’s victim mentality. The ancient Greeks and Romans accomplished a lot with very little—their politicians made the higher call for excellence. Likewise, tomorrow’s leaders cannot just think about themselves. They have to inspire us with what a better democratic future means for all the citizens—and get us all involved to share the task: building a more prosperous society, with a renewed middle class, and where every individual can flourish and reach his or her full potential.”
Originally published on Forbes.com
Who are your bosses from Hell? Maybe the supervisors so full of themselves you just want to scream—leaders who live large in their own egos, who demand credit for everything, proud and arrogant because, as long as they’re winning, leadership is all about them. Why do they have to be that way?
That question started my recent conversation with Stanley McChrystal, the distinguished former military general and now business consultant. We were discussing his new book, Leaders: Myth and Reality, and the impersonal forces and silent biases that perpetuate the concept of heroic leadership—and also breed the arrogance of so many bosses from Hell.
McChrystal suggested that historical concepts of individual causality, coupled with media exultation of celebrity leaders has obscured the more complex nature of leadership. And that’s undermined what organizations in the network age must do to perform.
The general ticked off personal and societal cues that keep elevating full-of-themselves leaders. With each new success, they feel more the super hero. When the stock price rises, the commercial press touts their brilliance. Business schools celebrate their industry disruption. Boards grant compensation a hundred-fold above those who actually deliver the star-studded results. “The accolades, HR systems, and pay scales make them think they’re like Superman. It kills the culture of learning and collaboration vital today.”
OK, now look in the mirror. You manage people too. What do they think of you? Are you guilty of too much amour-propre? Do you define your own leadership by what you think you alone bring to the job?
Do you imagine your skills match those of great leaders of history? Do you believe the impact your company achieves has little to do with other people or the accident of occasional good luck? Have you ever boasted—or silently muttered to yourself, “I alone can fix this!”
Leadership Myths
For McChrystal, heroic self-love is one of the deepest mistakes any leader makes today. He’s seen it again and again on the field of battle and in his consulting work, and confesses candidly how his own varied experience has led him to challenge leadership worship: solo titans make less of a difference than most people realize. His book is a lively exploration (with a touch of Augustinian confession) about why that’s true. Through a series of engaging case studies, McChrystal and his co-authors (Jeff Eggers, Jason Mangone) articulate three great misconceptions of leadership: i) The Formulaic Myth—that leadership can be reduced to an eternal checklist of “great leader” attributes; ii) The Attribution Myth—that leaders alone create performance, with little agency exercised by followers, partners, or other collaborators; iii) The Results Myth—the leadership is solely about driving subordinates to specific outcomes.
Emergent Leadership
McChrystal and company argue for a more nuanced understanding of “taking charge.” Thus, for every checklist of leadership qualities, there are paradigm-destroying exceptions: “Leadership is situation dependent. Leaders sometimes make a real difference with certain skills. But it depends on the moment. Churchill’s style and thinking were utterly critical to rallying the British war effort in 1940. But during peacetime, he fell out of popularity. Same man and qualities, but now out of step with his former public.”
McChrystal likewise reframes heroic attribution: “Leadership is really an emergent property of complex systems, arising from the learning and collaboration among leaders and followers.” He similarly sketches a more textured picture of driving results. “Leaders can be vital to mobilizing an organization but that’s often less about producing outcomes, and more about inspiring people for the future, and affirming some deeper purpose to animate their culture.”
From Theory To Practice
I pressed McChrystal: what should today’s leaders actually do—to develop and learn, and be more effective for a world of networks, greater egalitarianism, and diminishing faith in all-powerful heroes? How to develop the emergent, multi-directional sense of leadership he describes? I took away five insights:
1. Understand why “all-about-you-leadership” holds you back. McChrystal warned how self-absorbed leaders undermine organizational effort at scale. When it’s all about you, other people are demotivated, have less interest in innovating and learning to adapt, and don’t execute collaboratively against strategy. “One CEO we worked with,” he recalled, “finally had the game-changing epiphany: he couldn’t always be the ultimate rainmaker. When he started sharing more information about opportunities, and encouraging others to do the same, other leaders started to see there was now a chance not just to win deals, but also grow the whole pie for everyone.”
2. Reframe your leadership as building an ecosystem, shaping its culture, and operating like a node in a larger network of followers, collaborators, and other leaders. If leadership is emergent, you need to keep developing relationships among people that learn and create value, and a culture that supports that. “We worked with another CEO that couldn’t understand why people didn’t just follow his orders. We helped him see that the other executives were intensely competitive, always maneuvering against one another—with the same disastrous results of a pilot and co-pilot fighting while flying a plane. When the CEO shifted from giving commands to building processes and accountabilities for more collaboration, and modeling that behavior himself, performance rapidly improved.”
3. Learn how to let go of power. All-about-you leadership stems from insecurity—you think if you don’t give the orders, and make all the decisions, you can’t be “a real leader.” Sometime you do need to set direction and make decisions—but operating in an emergent ecosystem depends on developing a sense when that’s needed, and when it gets in the way of “other nodes.”
McChrystal recalled one of his own ah-ha moments. “When I became a Ranger Company commander, I had a lot of leadership experience—but I wasn’t appreciating the leadership abilities of others now in my charge. In one Alaskan mission, when I was handing out assignments, one of the ablest platoon lieutenants suddenly told me off: ‘This is bull****.’ I was floored—but I swallowed my pride and listened. It became clear the lieutenants knew how to do their jobs, and just wanted the space to do them. So I let them do the work their way. You have to develop a sense when to hand off to subordinates, and when to push for yourself. Working in dialogue with followers is a crucial role for any leader.”
4. Your most critical tools are building others’ capability, encouraging them, and expressing disappointment when they screw up. In an ecosystem approach, every leader must continuously improve the skills and learning of others. But motivation sometimes depends on correcting behavior that goes off-course. McChrystal again remembered some of his own learning. “When I was head of Joint Special Operations, building a huge collaborative network of different units across the Middle East, the culture of accountability and respect I was trying to instill was at odds with top-down punishment by me, the named commander. Much more effective, when someone failed in a critical task, was to talk to them privately—and explain how they had let both me and the broader mission down. My personal disappointment helped them do better next time.”
5. Be proud in your leadership but accept the influence of situation and luck in what you can accomplish. McChrystal does not plead for self-defeating humility. “Leaders can make a major positive difference, but they have to understand that the impact they want to have is never guaranteed, even with all the right skills and plans. We’ve all known bad leaders — abusive, autocratic, dishonest—who can still succeed. But in the end, it all comes out. You have to keep learning to be better for the long term.”
Rethinking Leadership For Democracy
I closed by asking Stanley McChrystal about political leadership—and the future of our democracy. He offered a practical adaptation of his concepts to today’s troubled environment.“The U.S. presidency more than ever requires a team effort. Future presidents cannot know everything or do everything alone. The best presidents— in retrospect, Ronald Reagan was one—are hands-off.
But they create a culture with other leaders so as a team they can develop and implement big ideas.”
“We should be more overt with that model. What if future presidential candidates position themselves as not knowing all the answers—and instead, before the election, identify some 50 other leaders—experts or experienced people in Congress, or business, or the military, etc.—who would publicly commit to working with the future president as a team, and follow certain shared principles about policy? Why not bring the best working model of networks and modern organizations to running our country, giving citizens a chance to choose a team of teams to serve them?”
Originally published on Forbes.com
“Here in the U.S. we’re so used to a stable democracy that we misinterpret any crisis as imminent collapse. We’re going through a rough patch now, yes—but that’s simply a signal that it’s time to reboot.”
The reassuring words I was hearing on my phone came from Josiah Ober, professor of political science and classics at Stanford, and author of a new thought-provoking book, Demopolis: Democracy Before Liberalism in Theory and Practice (Cambridge University Press, 2017). I was probing him about the book’s implications for our troubled political state today. Polls suggest an increasing number of voters are losing faith in our system. God knows there’s plenty to shake our confidence. Whether it’s the tweeting antics of Mr. Trump, Russia’s chaos-inducing media manipulation, growing domestic inequality, or the threatening hostility of China and North Korea—this democracy indeed has plenty to worry about. Will our system survive? Will our future leaders be up to the challenges?
Ober with his long historical view is concerned but not panicked. “Democracy,” he continued, “is fragile—but it’s also persistent. It’s within our hands to renew it—and yes, we do need to get to work on that. But the key lies in understanding its conceptual roots. We can’t fix the system without getting back to the essence of true democracy. That’s been lost in our politics today.” This tantalizing assertion led us into Ober’s new book—and a conversation about a “solution vision” for fixing our struggling political system.
Reimagining True Democracy
Ober calls his Demopolis a “thought experiment,” a half-conceptual, half-imagined picture of fundamental democracy, where a well-defined body of citizens govern themselves collectively, free from the endemic strife that he believes certain tenets of modern liberalism are now bringing upon us. However, Demopolis is not some right-wing attack on progressive policies—Ober is himself a self-confessed “modern liberal”—but rather a historical-cum-philosophical journey back towards the essential heart of a body politic whose democratic ways have become flabby and confused by “too many misguided extensions of Enlightenment thinking.” Ober has spent a long career writing about ancient Greek democracy, but in recent years has applied more of its practice and theory to articulating historical patterns of political thought now shaping modern states. Demopolis aims a sharply focused telescope on age-old questions of freedom, equality, and self-governance—what makes them true, and where they can go wrong in more modern interpretation.
Understanding Today’s Dysfunction
In fact, the problems of our current democracy is where our conversation next turned. Why, I asked, are we so at odds with one another now? Why does current “liberal thought”—and “non-liberal thought”– cause so much rancor, on this side or the other? Why are so many people disengaged or even attacking our democratic system, and what can be done about that? What will it take to rebuild a strong foundation to meet the challenges now threatening our constitutional way of life?
Five themes stood out as I reflected later on our discussion:
1. Look beneath personalities and political structures to understand our weakened democracy: Many Americans today view our democratic maladies either as a result of bad leadership (e.g. Trump’s “reinvention” of the presidency, or “swamp-dwelling, out-of-touch elites”); or instead the consequences of institutional decay (e.g. gerrymandered political districts, or too much influence of lobbyists and corporate money). Ober suggests that although these are indeed testing civic faith in our free society, the more fundamental problem is that our nation has lost sight of what it means to “govern ourselves.” Demopolis stands as a sort of new root cause analysis, appealing for “revolution” in the literal sense—turning back to first principles of self-governance that started the movement of democracy in western civilization.
2. We can’t fix our political problems today without returning to the essence of democracy: Like others, Ober traces the elements of democracy to its invention as a fully participatory city-state by the ancient Greeks. But his book quickly moves from history to practical paradigm, stripping away the romantic wrapper of Athenian temples, heroes and water clocks to focus on the handful of must-have conceptual elements that distinguished what democracy first meant—and (as he forcefully argues) still means today. It is a community (of citizens, with shared values and traditions) that:
- Chooses to govern itself for three purposes: protecting itself, providing collective welfare, and ensuring a society answerable only to itself (“non-tyranny”)
- Pursues these purposes by embracing three core beliefs (civic freedom, civic equality, and civic dignity for all citizens);
- Expects its citizens to actively participate in public life, making decisions and taking accountability for what they collectively decide.
Various states, with different institutions, and different mechanisms have endeavored through history or today pursue various versions of “democracy” (including our U.S. three-branch, check-and-balance, representative-based Constitution)—but whatever the specific practices, any system of democracy will ultimately fail if this handful of conditions are not met and sustained. Thus, Ober insists, renewing any failing—or even just struggling– democracy must start with a blueprint of this essence. It’s a challenge he poses to all Americans today.
3. Our U.S. democracy is under stress because modern liberal thought has fused with—and sometimes confuses—the essence of self-governance. Ober argues that a sort of superstructure of post-Enlightenment thinking (e.g. highly autonomous personal freedom, global human rights, and economic social justice) has been built upon the original principles of a self-governing political community—and the conflation of the new and the old has caused us to lose sight of what democracy really means. Our modern version has taken us far beyond the historical core of more simple political freedom (of speech and association) and equality (everyone’s voice and vote must have the same value). American culture has become infused with demands about absolute rights, and appeals to universal justice (often left undefined but still claimed as non-negotiable.) The evolution has created strains and even contradictions among ourselves about the appropriate balance between privileges and duties as members of our community; about what it means to “be a democratic citizen”, and answerable to no one except ourselves.
By Ober’s view, what matters now is not the Red State-Blue State war for political power, or the philosophical battles about “more” or “less” government; rather it’s how to find common ground among different belief systems about what our democracy allows us to do and be, and ultimately even—as work and relationships become more global–about who “us” really is.
As liberalizing trends become more extended, our body politic is being torn in two opposing directions, pulled beyond foundational democracy. On the one hand, advocates of non-negotiable freedom in all domains will insist on rights to do things that may harm the community in ways that most citizens do not support (e.g. unfettered ownership of assault weapons or to do business with avowed foreign enemies). On the other hand, many enthusiasts for universal social justice want to prioritize providing education, healthcare or economic assistance to non-citizens and immigrants, even if that may limit serving similar needs of many fellow Americans.
“The real problem,” Ober explained, “is not about a modern democracy adopting this or that policy of ‘rights’ or ‘universal justice’—if the citizens so agree to that. But there are trade-offs and difficult consequences of moving towards that kind of vision, and we haven’t as a nation really debated such things, or developed a shared understanding of what that means for us collectively. And an-every-four-year Presidential election is no substitute for that. A big part of the pessimism and even rage about our current system is that people just aren’t able to participate in the debates and decisions that are implicitly shaping the overall meaning of our democracy today.”
4. The road to renewal must be built with hands-on civic education. The cognitive dissonance between fundamental democracy and the ever-expanding right-seeking liberal version is exacerbated by more and more citizens disengaging from public life, disconnected from any defined sense of membership in a political community. The demonization of “Washington” as a poisonous self-dealing swamp is a token of not just contempt but distance and alienation.
Many commentators have called for strengthening civic education as a strategy for rebuilding the health of American democracy—but Ober makes a critical distinction. “This can’t be about sitting in a classroom drawing charts about ‘how a bill becomes a law in Congress,’ or memorizing the names and dates of presidents. The world’s first democracy understood that civic education was actually ‘doing democracy’—citizens learning not just the craft but the meaning and passion of debating, persuading, compromising, and then accepting the consequences of making decisions together—and being accountable for your own destiny as a member of the community. We have to get back to that kind of civic learning—the lessons of practice and participation, not textbooks.”
Ober then put many of the contemporary suggestions for fixing democracy in that light. “Right now there’s a lot of enthusiasm for using technology to help citizens participate more directly, or to establish ‘civic panels or assemblies’ for citizens to advise lawmakers, do more decision-making by popular referenda, etc. These can be helpful, but not as an end in themselves. These can be interim experiments and first steps in a longer-term transformation. The real value of such mechanisms is to teach people anew what it means to operate as democratic citizens. And people have to practice and learn how to do that before anybody starts trying to change our constitution.”
5. Tomorrow’s leaders will succeed by reaffirming the core of democracy and its higher purposes. Ober concluded with a few aspirational thoughts related to leadership. “We’ll never turn today’s crisis into renewal unless we have a different kind of leadership than what we have today. John Kennedy challenged his nation to put a man on the moon, and demanded, “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” Reagan led us against an ‘evil empire.’ Today we’re talking about marginal tax rates and inappropriate sexual behavior of this or that electoral candidate. Our real challenge is to find and support a new generation of leaders who understand what democracy and the power of a self-governing, purposeful community really is—and who can inspire people to become citizens again.”
Originally published on Forbes.com
Put aside the conspiracy theories, latest Trump tweets and wonky wars of healthcare: let’s think bigger picture and longer term—on the future of democracy itself. Is rising populism, anti-government rage, and scorched earth partisanship destroying self-governance as we have known it? Or just signaling a cyclical downturn? Maybe the political system we hold dear is collapsing into history.
Ah, history. Not just a sad destination but also a helpful friend for serious future-gazing. Can’t democracy’s origins and past development help us understand how resilient our current system of governance might be? And provide insight to the long-term prospects for our democratic way of life?
Those questions brought me to Paul Cartledge, recently retired Leventis Professor of Greek Culture at Cambridge University, and author of a recent magisterial survey on the origins and development of “governance by the people”: Democracy: A Life (Oxford University Press, 2016).
More Power To The People—Or Less?
I spoke to Professor Cartledge after my January conversation with another thought-provoking academic, Roslyn Fuller. Fuller had voiced pessimism about today’s democracy, but in her own new book, proposed an ancient-style solution: lance the boil of popular frustration about bureaucratic and distant representative government by “going back to an Athenian future”—embrace technology and some other structural changes to give all citizens direct say and participation in political decision-making.
“Heavens, no!” exclaimed Cartledge.
“Yes,” he continued, “for the longest time we’ve had a deficit of democracy in our governing systems—but now we’re having a surplus. Our recent U.K. referendum on Scottish independence (and again in the news), the disastrous and barely majoritarian outcome of Brexit, and the disturbing election of your new President—the last three years have been some of the most tumultuous of my adult life. This kind of decision-making has not represented sound ideas of an informed population, and but it does portend the potential for a dangerous abuse of popular power, perhaps even fascism.”
“Using smart phones to vote or summon up more direct democracy is not what we need. The best hope lies with moderating populist trends underway. Representative-style government can be improved, but it’s still the best answer for the scale of governance nations must undertake today.”
Democracy Through The Ages
To dive deeper, Paul recounted a brief history of democracy, following his book. I probed repeatedly on three questions: What does past practice teach about what makes democracy strong, and resilient? What makes democracy break down? What should leaders today do to keep it alive for tomorrow?
Our discussion ranged across Cartledge’s years of research (particularly pre-modern history), and some of his own early career politicking. He offered no simple solutions—there are none– but he commented insightfully about challenges and hopes for preserving western democracy. A few of the enlightening themes follow:
1. Democracy in practice has not been a timeless, static concept but rather a march of punctuated experiments that “learn from the past.” Cartledge emphasized that although “democracy” is loosely applied to different regimes in history, its workings—and cultures—have varied, often substantially, over time. “In judging success and resilience, we need to understand that direct, full-on participatory system of ancient Athens was very different from, say, what the Romans developed in their Republic, or of course the representative model of today’s Anglo-American constitutions. In fact, even in Athens itself, the role of the individual, the institutions, and the decision-making practices were different in different phases of its history. ‘One size does not fit all.'”
“But ‘democracy’ does demonstrate some thematic historical consistency—organizing people around concepts of freedom, equality, and participatory self-governance, though varying in different constitutions. Leaders today should understand how those concepts worked in different cases—the dynamic of how different versions of democracy functioned—and what made each succeed or ultimately fail. Democracy in the west has been a series of ongoing experiments, each attempting to improve upon the shortcomings of previous models.”
Mixed Constitutions
“For example, the Athenians took measures during the fourth century BCE to minimize the volatility of the more free-ranging participatory politics of the fifth century. The Roman Republic similarly adopted a so-called “mixed constitution” which institutionalized checks and balances between popular and elite governing bodies, building further on the painful lessons when Greek democracy degenerated into “mobocracy.” Those same lessons were taken to heart by drafters of the U.S. Constitution to produce your system of “checks and balances,” separating powers among branches of government.”
So what are today’s leaders learning from history? Campaign rhetoric still rings about “draining the swamp” and changing this or that procedural rule to beat the other party—but who’s really thinking about fixing the failures and improving our system overall?
2. Each new “experiment” brought fresh compromises and new vulnerabilities to the democratic model. Just as every organizational design has strengths and weaknesses, so have different models of democracy through history. Cartledge referenced Athenian efforts to stabilize their democracy in the fourth century BCE—reducing legal lawmaking authority of the people, creating new officials to quality-control decision-making—that lessened the dangers of “mobocracy” but also “made for a less vital, more top-down culture of participation.” The “safer” mixed constitution of the Romans reduced citizen participation to “mostly voting in elections and town hall- style discussions,” but it also contributed to rising popular anger that opportunistic generals would later mobilize against one another, in civil war that destroyed the Res Publica. The same model encouraged bribery and favoritism by elite politicians to get plum assignments in the growing empire—another blow to the common good.
Now consider our democracy today, with its own trade-offs and compromises. Rigorous checks and balances offer critical stability—but also enable our system to get bogged down in litigation and lobbying, cross-branch in-fighting, and molasses-like decision-making for a global economy demanding ever more agility. What might a future model of democracy do to alleviate that?
The Power Of Community
3. Despite differences, all democratic models try to create “a community of citizens.” Athenian democracy, the most radical form of self-governance, was built on a community that promised political freedom and equality coupled with giving citizens a say—and obligation—to steer their own destiny. Its ethos was to share commitment, opportunity and sacrifice, all on behalf of the community that citizens themselves comprised.
Later democratic constitutions through history designed different versions of a “citizen community,” though inevitably systems of checks and balances, and “mixed approaches” ended up creating conflict among different groups of stakeholders.
Far-seeing politicians have tried to mitigate that, as Cartledge points out, by redefining, and shifting the emphasis of freedom—away from “freedom to [do something, e.g.. having a say in one’s governance],” to “freedom from [interference, e.g. protection of personal rights].” One great advance of the Roman constitution, as he explained, was a broader extension of citizenship than Greeks allowed in their time, providing a range of special protections to people in the growing imperial state. But the privileges did not include the same kind of freedom that Greek citizens enjoyed—while the sacrifices Roman citizens were asked to make (military and financial) were comparably onerous.
From ‘We’ To ‘Me’
The imbalance between rights and sacrifices has often made democracies vulnerable to popular backlash. Thus Cartledge again: “The demise of the Roman Republic was a collapse of the ‘culture of we’ into a ‘culture of me.’ Power-hungry generals built factions of citizens to back them first in political power and then out-and-out civil war, trading military support for grants of conquered land.”
“The breakdown of community has throughout history been a driving causes of democracy’s failure. You can even argue that the rise of philosophical schools in the fourth century BCE and later, and the turning away from community towards personal ethics and knowledge contributed to the loss of Greek democracy.”
How much, in our current culture, are the growing popularity of self-help and personal improvement, advocacy for deep individual rights versus community prerogatives stoking the decline of democracy today? Is there a way to rebalance the mix, to recapture a “greater good”?
4. Democracy thrives on economic growth and moderation of inequality. Today there’s plenty of talk about how the ravages of globalization and slipping wages are fueling populism; and why growing economic inequality is not just morally unfair but bad for our own democracy. Professor Cartledge once more invokes the lessons of history.
“The golden age of Roman Republicanism came in the third and second centuries BCE, when their proto-empire was growing across the Mediterranean world—providing benefits for a wider population and new material wealth for social generosity. And the terrific expansion and prosperity of the fifth century Athenian empire—further enabled by their use of slave labor—greatly enhanced that city-state’s ability to invite, and also pay for, all citizens to participate in self-governance.”
Elite Competition And Sauve Qui Peut
“During the most vital years of Athenian democracy, the danger of unequal distribution of wealth, and corresponding social volatility, was offset by a strong culture of public contribution by the rich. Wealthy people were heavily taxed to pay for public festivals, naval ships, and athletic games (“liturgies”). The genius of the model was how it created benign competition at the top—the elite were constantly trying to outdo each other in giving the most magnificent gifts to the public good. Everyone benefited.”
“But the mechanism was fragile. When Athenians started losing militarily to the Spartans, rich people blamed the demos and began resenting public contributions. Athens suffered a couple of oligarchic revolutions against its democracy, and the delicate social compact always broke down into well-to-do vs. poor.” In the final phase of its democracy, the wealthy elite abandoned public liturgies, and instead used their money to curry political favor with the new Macedonian rulers who conquered Athens in about 330 BCE.” Community became sauve qui peut.
5. Democracy’s viability is tested under external pressure and survival is never guaranteed.
Different democratic systems have risen and fallen through history, noted Cartledge, often collapsing when some external shock tore apart the fabric of political community.
“When Athenian democracy yielded to its oligarchic revolutions, and then later to external conquest, those events threatened the survival of the state—breaking the social compact between rich and poor. Even great leaders—like Pericles in the fifth century— struggled to stem civil destruction in such crisis. Throughout history, war and resulting domestic strife have repeatedly undermined democratic systems–in Rome, England and France, and of course, in a very close call, your own Civil War.”
That said, Cartledge also reminded me that, on the long view, democracy in its various forms has bounced back repeatedly, evolving into different configurations of power-sharing. “But you can’t take the survival of any constitutional system—including our current ones–for granted. Athens’ version did eventually disappear, as did the Republicanism in Rome.”
Consider now today’s challenges. If war erupts from simmering conflicts with Russia, China, or North Korea, will our own constitutional way of life necessarily survive? Will our leadership be strong enough not just to prevail in a showdown of force but also to preserve civic freedom, equality and decision-making?
A Blueprint For Leaders
Paul Cartledge closed with a few practical suggestions for strengthening current democracy.
1. Double down but improve the system of checks and balances. For Cartledge, the growing populist empowerment—proliferating referendums, mobilizing movements through social media and the like—now threatens stable democracy. Rather than abandon our “mixed constitution” he argues simply to strengthen it—make it simpler, more nimble, and ultimately more participative, while still preserving its core of check and balances.
2. Revitalize representation and political parties. Cartledge argues that the size and scale of nation states, and their breadth of population will continue to require representative government; similarly political parties—“though full of various compromises, these are still the best way to unify different policy points of view, and avoid fragmentation.” But he also believes both can do more to engage citizens—not necessarily as decision-making arms, but for discussion, town-hall conversation and debates, and generally to include many more people of all backgrounds in the broader formulation of policy choices. If there is a good use of social media and technology, he adds, it should be more for this— to engage citizens in a more vital way, but not as a substitute for decision and policy-making by elected representatives.
3. Build (and rebuild) a stronger sense of political community, especially through the education of citizens. Cartledge pointed repeatedly to the importance of “community” in different democracies, and emphasized why an educated and informed citizenry must be one of the cornerstones of such culture.
“Old fashioned civics lessons had some value—but frankly, even more important, is ‘education by doing’—I think there’s much to learn from ancient democracy, which saw the engagement of citizens in public life—in courts, festivals, assemblies—as a focus of learning and growth for every member of the community. Creating modern mechanisms to build increased participation of our citizens—for example selecting people by lot (“sortition”) to perform more government roles, engage in policy forums, etc.—might recreate the kind of civic education that was core to Athenian democracy. Instilling such experience could be one of the strongest ways to protect our democracies today.”
Originally published on Forbes.com
The January 2017 stock market is showing plenty of optimism, but the political sphere swirls with anxiety. People—of all partisan stripes—worry about our democracy’s decay. Will the political system of freedom and equality as we know it survive? Will it weather the leadership style of the U.S. president-elect? Meet the challenges of rising populist nationalism and growing totalitarian regimes?
Too Much Incrementalism?
Alas, most ideas about “fixing democracy’s problems” seem narrow, self-serving or incremental: abolish the Electoral College so the popular vote always prevails; end gerrymandered voting districts, so representation is more fairly mixed; support President Obama to pass more executive orders to protect against abuses by Donald Trump.
Is that really enough to save democracy? Maybe we need to swing for the fences—not just mend the procedural edges, but instead rethink the whole system today. Why not really disrupt our powdered-wig representative model that’s become a morass of distant legislators, conniving lobbyists, and aloof commanders-in-chief (#DTS)?
Yeah, rock on, argues Roslyn Fuller, in her cracking recent book, Beasts and Gods: How Democracy Changed Its Purpose and Lost Its Meaning. Fuller, a researcher in Law at the Waterford (Ireland) Institute of Technology, has been writing about the limits of status quo democracy for several years—and believes the only hope now is complete revolution.
No, not armed insurrection. Fuller wants more literal revolution: circle back to democracy’s invention, in Greece about 440 BCE. What’s needed now, she insists, is recapturing the spirit and mechanisms of deeply participative and engaged political communities, as ancient Athenians once created. We should rediscover the world of real civic life, as when, in the shadow of the Parthenon, every citizen served, deliberated, and voted month after month to steer their own futures.
Giving People The Power
Beasts and Gods (invoking Aristotle’s famous discussion of man’s socio-political nature) makes an impassioned case for why, in an age of declining political institutions and growing social media, it’s time to double down on democracy’s true essence: full-on civic engagement by all, hands-on contributions to the government by everyday people, and organized mass decision-making. Forget fixing gerrymandering or changing rules for lobbyists: just give millions of people a direct role in making their own laws, and deciding how their money will be spent. Imagine if you someday had real and regular say in the kind of healthcare you’d have, the schools you want for your children, what to do about terrorism, and the taxes you’d pay–and that you even played an occasional hand in implementing the policies?
Of course our founding fathers explicitly steered the U.S. Constitution away from such “people power” (let us beware of “mob rule”!)—but Fuller believes their design decisions have wrought debilitating, unintended consequences: representational elections that neither represent nor excite people; game-changing influence of wealthy interests; decision-making gridlocked in a blindingly fast global economy.
Channeling Pericles And Aristotle
The book begins with an edgy and acerbic question: if modern democracy is so great, why is everyone now so unhappy? Fuller answers coolly, buttressed with plenty of data: today’s system simply isn’t engaging the people it’s supposed to empower. She goes on to explain why small fixes won’t ultimately fulfill freedom-loving citizens; and then, as if channeling Pericles and Aristotle, insists that western civilization once created a better version—and whose time for rediscovery has now come.
Ms. Fuller next explores adapting the model and spirit of Athenian direct democracy to a modern world hungry for more self-governance. Fuller is no antiquarian—she doesn’t envision chiton-wearing citizens arguing before water clocks in the open air. She simply advocates replacing the musty 18th century constitutions we still live under with the classical practices and humanistic values that, some two-plus millennia in the past, allowed hardworking farmers and shepherds to govern themselves successfully.
Social Technology For The Best Political Purposes
So how to reinvent this ancient model for ourselves? Perhaps predictably, this young legal scholar emphasizes the promise of technology, imagining an institutionalization of the real time conversations, debates and decision-making already underway across social media networks today. She further argues that technology could help scale up classical-style democratic experiments emerging in a few American cities and other parts of the western world, such as virtual open town meetings (where citizens debate schools, traffic patterns, or plans for affordable housing, etc.); and participative budgeting (providing opportunities for everyone to see and vote on priorities for local spending).
Her discussion at times seems incomplete–but in fairness, this 260 page book is less a reengineering blueprint than a visionary thought experiment. Skeptics will nitpick many of the suggestions, and scorn the incomparability between ancient and modern– but I guarantee Ms. Fuller will make you think differently about the trillion dollar bureaucracies we call democracy today.
In Search Of A Few Core Principles
When I spoke to Roslyn Fuller, I asked her to extend her analysis by offering some “core principles” of the classical democracy, to frame a more accessible summary. We kept the discussion general enough to be applicable to both political and business contexts (since many companies today are also wrestling with democratic-style management.)
Summarizing a complex system of institutions and human beliefs is no easy task. But the list that follows can get any would-be democratic revolutionary started:
1. First understand why democracy matters. Advocates of current democracy stress the freedom, equality, and personal rights it guarantees citizens. Fuller argues that the fully participative, Greek-style version produced greater justice and performance for society overall. “The Athenian model surpasses modern democracies in three ways: greater legitimacy—when everyone is involved and deciding the critical issues of the state, there’s no filter of depending on some representative who can pervert your preferences; greater stability—instead of the every four year big fight about elections, participative democracy is more of an ‘agile organization’—ongoing deliberation and decision-making, and thus smoother adaptation to change; and greater accountability—there’s nobody else to blame when the policies are truly decided by the people who also have to implement them.”
2. Clarify and build the member community. Fuller acknowledged that the Athenian system was as much about the strength of a community as it was about egalitarian institutions and processes. “Obviously it’s difficult to recreate the kind of cohesive relationships they had. Like it or not, we’re all organized in nation states now. But there would be opportunities to build more truly democratic communities on a smaller scale, in cities and regions. And technology is now unifying groups of people across time and space; networked democracy is an emerging new model. But whatever the scale, without the right human relationships—and a clear understanding of who ‘belongs’ to the engaged community—the classical model won’t work.”
3. Create “pull” for large-scale participation: Declining voter participation bedevils modern democracy, according to Fuller. She argues we need to make it much more worthwhile for people to play a role in their own governance—in lots of different ways. “I don’t suggest citizens should be required to vote, but they ought to be paid for their civic service, of all sorts. That was a real innovation in the Athenian revolution. When you couple material incentives with giving everyone an opportunity to do real work and decision-making, you’re promoting participation that will build more legitimacy and accountability. When people see the value of engaging, they will engage—and democracy becomes more vibrant.”
4. Amateurs and experts side by side. The author of Beasts and Gods was passionate about undoing the modern “tyranny of the elites”– but also calling on expertise when needed. “Ancient democracy was more alive because a large part of the government was literally chosen by lottery. Citizens took turns serving in different public and administrative offices, and on juries—all the time, regardless of their previous experience. But some critical positions were also reserved for people with demonstrated skills (chosen by vote). The military generals—on whom the city’s survival depended—were not amateurs.”
“The model thrived through the combination of deep knowledge when needed, coupled with everyday experience and perspective that kept things practical and meaningful for citizens.”
5. Decision making that’s fluid, efficient and consequent for all. Athenian citizens argued and voted to make policy on an ongoing basis—but decisions weren’t based on consensus, nor was there tolerance for endless debate.
“Issues and court cases were debated within rigid time frames. Many people think of democracy as a talking shop, but efficiency was actually a major priority for ancient democrats,” commented Fuller. “They believed in closure and had procedures designed specifically to prevent entrenched factions from forming, and, above all, from paralyzing effective state action. They recognized that there was a point when arguments had run their course, and that they were better off throwing their weight behind a democratic decision than seeking to wage a war of attrition among themselves. They knew they had to survive as a community before they could prosper as individuals.”
6. Ensure the value and civility of community communication. Fuller attributes much of today’s democratic decline to media practices. “Communication is essential to creating community, and we live in a world very different than ancient times—where people were primarily informed by public debate, or by friends or family members. Today’s mass media now dominates thinking; and it has the potential to unfairly shape and trivialize important issues (which it often does).”
“These imbalances are similarly reflected in social media, which can be unduly negative. There is little point to being constructive when you don’t have the power to implement positive outcomes. And lacking that power, people have learned the dubious pleasure of ‘venting.’ We’ve come to a point where a stream of criticism is seen as helpful conversation– rarely the case. A participatory community needs to focus on constructive outcomes.”
“Unless democratic leaders have the courage to elevate the discussion of important problems, their participative community will fail.”
The Moment Is Now
I closed by asking Ms. Fuller why reinventing classical democracy was now so urgent.
“People everywhere have good ideas–but also pent-up frustration. They’re just not being listened to. Democracy can’t be an every four-year event anymore. Technology affords us better means to engage and tap into those being governed, and ultimately letting all of us govern ourselves.”
“Of course more will be needed than just technology. But if we don’t create the mechanisms to harness the talent and energy of all people in democracies, our governmental systems are just going to collapse—or be taken over by somebody else.”
Originally published on Forbes.com
In a much-read article in Forbes.com –“How To Become A CEO”— fellow contributor Christian Stadler presented a sensible, research-based summary of career steps to the top job: pursuing specific education, choosing particular functional paths, and developing personal qualities like “drive and ambition.”
Suppose we look through the other end of the telescope: When a corporate board actually hires a new CEO, what specific qualities are they looking for? Lots of people have (e.g.) top-school MBAs and elite consulting experience — but they don’t all become CEOs. And those who do, don’t all get there the same way.
So what really matters to the people who give you the job? At the moment of truth—when a board votes to hand over the keys to the castle, what’s the list of “must-haves” that guides the decision? And what can aspiring leaders learn from the list, to prepare for the hoped-for day?
A Short List To Get Short-Listed
Surprise: Boards are pretty much always looking for the same five qualities in their CEO candidates.
And so I learned in my recent conversation with Cathy Anterasian, Spencer Stuart’s Senior Partner and Practice Leader of CEO Succession in North America. Having guided over fifty chief exec transitions over the past several years, she’s got the street cred to point out the pattern. “Trust me,” she said with quiet assurance, “it’s a fundamental and enduring list.”
Always a sucker for someone who can simplify wisely, I asked her to walk me through it—and why boards scrutinize whether CEO candidates check these five boxes.
She began by qualifying my question. “It’s not quite ‘checking the boxes’ per se. The qualities a board looks for are really capabilities—and they can manifest themselves differently in different people. Inevitably the capabilities reflect a cluster of skills, knowledge and behaviors. Also, board decisions always involve trade-offs. No candidate is brilliant in everything, and committees will also consider how a candidate’s strengths complement the team he or she will work with. But the core five capabilities are still the basis of what they probe.”
Cathy framed the list as director-style questions, and explained the implications of each.
1. Is This Leader A Good Strategist?
“Strategic capability includes several competencies—more than just being able to ‘see around corners’ and make choices about markets, customers, assets and all that. Those are of course important. But it also requires engaging others; and then articulating both an evolving future and what it means for the company. Great strategists invite dialogue, challenge assumptions, and build an environment to explore future opportunity. They’re skilled at developing and communicating strategic issues and implications.”
“No single model defines a great strategist—but you know the capability when you see it. And titles can be misleading. I worked recently with a healthcare board to evaluate a candidate who for years had ‘strategy’ in his job description. When we assessed his actual work, we discovered he was brilliant in ‘keeping the trains running on time’ but less prepared to deal with the ambiguity and complex market dynamics created by ObamaCare.”
2. Is This Leader A Good Operator?
“That said, ‘keeping the trains running’ is also a crucial CEO skill. Savvy strategists might be gifted at seeing the future, but if they lack a track record of mobilizing an organization to get consistent results, they won’t be successful. Operational excellence requires analytical skills—but also a bias towards action. I recall a succession situation where a favored candidate missed out because he was actually too analytical: He paralyzed the organization by asking for more and more information, and then missed critical decisions.”
“Strong operators deliver performance. They cascade vision down to specific goals, objectives and metrics. And then build, motivate,and manage teams to deliver in a timely fashion.”
I asked: “Does operational capability include people development too?” She answered quickly.
“Talent skills are always part of operational execution. They can be mapped elsewhere on the list of five—but I put them here to emphasize long term performance. No good operator delivers year-after-year results without also regularly developing talent.”
3. Can This Leader Have Impact In The Culture?
“Sometimes this is called ‘fit’: Does the candidate mesh with the company’s values and ways of working? Does he or she display values of someone you want representing the business? Almost 70% of failed hires – across roles – result from poor cultural fit.”
“But ‘fit’ is actually too limited a concept. Boards today have to think both about the current culture, and the future culture needed to perform.”
“I recently worked with a board who passed over an internal candidate in a family-controlled agribusiness. He was strong in many areas, including fit for the existing culture. But the culture itself didn’t fit where the business needed to go. Leaders had to become less ‘family-oriented’ and more performance-driven. The board ultimately opted for a new CEO more reflective of those values.”
“Today we talk more about ‘impact in the culture. Can the candidate lead with a cultural style that makes a performance difference long term? It’s a delicate balance: change the culture too much and you break the company; fail to challenge it, and you won’t get results you were hired to deliver.”
4. Can This Leader Build Followership?
“The CEO has to inspire and motivate large groups of people inside the company—often from a distance. That means communicating clearly; setting out a clear vision; giving people a sense of purpose, why they want to come to work, and pursue a mission. Great leaders also use symbolic moments to make those ideas come alive.”
“Motivational skill is usually a complement to connecting with people individually. In big companies, CEOs have to do that quickly; they may only have a few minutes with the followers they meet.” In general, great CEOs demonstrate concern for others, that they have good judgment, that they can be trusted. People follow leaders whom they believe in. This is where the much-touted ‘authenticity’ fits in.”
Cathy extended her explanation.
“Followership is also external. Today’s CEOs must cultivate trust, confidence and respect of key stakeholders outside: customers, analysts, investors and the like. They too have to ‘sign up’ for the leader.”
“Followership can be a huge deal-breaker. In a recent insurance succession, one candidate seemed superb overall—but then we heard from some employees, ‘When the envelope is opened, if the winner is him, we’ll gulp, and march forward—but with no passion.’ The board passed over him for another executive, somewhat less experienced, but with wider respect and support.”
5. Does This Leader Show Stretch Potential?
“This fifth element is just as timeless—but it’s becoming more important. The world is speeding up. No one survives as CEO who doesn’t have the aptitude and potential to adapt to suddenly changing circumstances. Boards look for that, especially with internal candidates who, by definition, are unproven at the CEO level.”
She invoked a metaphor.
“Stretch potential is a set of ‘leadership muscles.’ It calls for critical thinking; tolerance for ambiguity; social and emotional intelligence; flexibility. And perhaps most important, humility and capacity to learn. You’ve got to remain open-minded, positing hypotheses and then revising them when experience shows the mistakes.”
“In the search for ‘stretch potential,’ a board might occasionally ‘skip a generation’—bet on an emerging leader, with less experience, but more orientation to learn and change. In a consumer technology company recently, I saw a stronger resume candidate lose out to an earlier career entrepreneur—who had demonstrated more agility with transformational opportunities.”
Same List, Different Organizational Translations
The discussion with this Spencer Stuart partner made me wonder: Is this list just for big and mature companies? Does it also apply to the growing world of networks, platform businesses and more open organizations?
She clarified helpfully.
“Of course—but how each of the five get interpreted will differ by context. Every organization needs some strategy, and a leader who can also deliver results. But in a small startup, the key strategic and operational capabilities might be about shorter cycle times and new market intuition; a bigger company might emphasize leadership that can steadily grow earnings.”
“Some qualities on the list are more universal. Followership is a fundamental human skill. Leaders everywhere need to build connections with other people.”
So How Do I Work On The Five?
I finished with two evergreen questions: What’s the right way to build the CEO qualities of this list? And nature vs nurture: What if you’re just not born with the right talents for a “key CEO capability”?
Ms. Anterasian smiled, hearing the all-too-familiar queries.
“Of course aptitude always plays a role, especially for strategic thinking and followership or stretch. But wherever you have a gap, you have to try to make it better. Build on strengths, sure, but don’t neglect improvement across the whole portfolio just because you weren’t born with some natural ability.”
“There are different approaches to building leadership capability, but in my experience, three axioms stand out. First, be purposeful about your own development. It sounds obvious, but so many people—simply caught up with just getting their jobs done every day—don’t plan or work intentionally on their knowledge and skills. This list of five is a good roadmap to use.”
Learning From Stars
“Second, look for opportunities to work side-by-side—and learn from—people with real talent in the five areas. You can absorb critical techniques and insights on a team with a great strategist, or reporting to someone who’s a star in managing performance. Or watching carefully the style of leaders who are publicly very likeable.”
“Last, whatever you do, stay focused on your own game. You’re going to be in competitive situations along the way, vying with others for promotions. Be candid, transparent, and respectful, while still doing your best. But avoid getting drawn into intramural politics. I’ve watched a lot of would-be CEOs go down in flames there.”
And If Someday Becoming A CEO Seems Remote…
After we finished talking, I had my own minor epiphany. Anyone can benefit from this list of five. Even if overall leadership of a company is nowhere on your radar screen.
Whatever your work, whatever your role today, you won’t lose by getting better at strategy, operational execution, and building a more impactful culture around you. Or cultivating followership. And who doesn’t need to get better at stretching and adapting to change—in any organization?
Make the challenge even simpler. Why not start developing yourself to become “CEO” of your current job right now?
Originally published on Forbes.com
Categories
Is It OK For Leaders To Lie?
The question might give you pause, but political pundits are confident and clear: “No, no, no!”
Our chattering class scolds the fibs of every Oval Office candidate, usually with ideological fervor. On the right: “Who can trust Hillary Clinton to be President if she deliberately misrepresented the attack on Benghazi?” On the left:” How can we take Ben Carson seriously when he lied about a West Point scholarship?” “Oh and Donald Trump? Don’t get us started…” How dare this or that leader mislead the American public!
The Cultural Assumption
Behind the complaints is a big assumption: to be a great leader you can’t lie—and if any would-be President plays Pinocchio, shame on them, but also shame on us: “We shouldn’t vote for that one.” Our public rhetoric abhors executive fibbing. And yet history is full of noble but lying leaders. Offset the schoolhouse lessons of George Washington’s cherry tree with a few inconvenient examples among Presidents: Abraham Lincoln dissimulated about his stance on slavery; Franklin Roosevelt promised the American people “your boys won’t be sent to foreign wars” while preparing to do just that; John F. Kennedy denied he would invade Cuba as he was blueprinting the Bay of Pigs. And the enduringly popular Bill Clinton brought prevarication about his personal life to new semantic heights.
The list of successful business leaders who have played loose with the truth is also long. Wall Street titans will lie about deals and inside information; Silicon Valley icons like Larry Ellison and Steve Jobs are known for misleading customers about new product availability; Elon Musk, revered innovator of the Tesla, has been challenged about his car company’s financial reporting. “Degree of misrepresentation” is always debated—but in the court of high ethics no great leader escapes as “24/7 truthful.” Still, leadership lying often doesn’t seem to matter. Even when they “mis-remember”, strong leaders successfully rally supporters. FDR is still lovingly emblazoned on our coinage. Whatever Mr. Musk’s truth transgressions, Tesla continues to ride high; and how many people turned in their iPhones when Steve Jobs fudged a release date? Why do we publically excoriate lying and then accept it for so many leaders?
Right-Sizing Truthfulness
Because we rationalize or blame it away. Sometimes it’s about the human imperfection of followers. We like to believe in the truth–but, sometimes too timid, sometimes too idealistic, we won’t call out a favored leader’s abuse of it. Then the Darwinian explanation. People like winning, “Alpha Leaders;” their champion performance trumps the occasional lie. “Who cares if Pete Rose denied his gambling? He was an all-time baseball great, deserves the Hall of Fame.”
Or we focus on the human imperfections of leaders, prioritizing relative sins. Great leaders shouldn’t be held to a standard of moral perfection, because like all people, they sometimes tell lies too. “Look, everyone does it; and, hey, different situations call for different ‘degrees of truth;’ and, you know, ends justify means.” You’ve heard the narratives: “Hillary’s half-truths will never undermine that she’s the most qualified candidate to break the Presidential gender barrier.’” Or, “As long as Ben Carson cuts Federal spending, I’ll overlook embellished stories of his youth.”
Managing Reward And Risk?
So if we often justify leaders who sometimes bypass the truth, is there a limit? After all, serial liars lose credibility (as the son of a used car dealer once told me: “the best liars always tell the truth sometimes.”). So perhaps we should characterize the great leader as not someone who always tells the truth, but one who carefully manages how much to vary from it. Consider how savvy investors construct portfolios to maximize returns in capital markets—they negotiate carefully the frontier between reward and risk, looking for sweet spots to optimize gains while still exposing themselves to manageable loss.
Do the savvy leaders manage a similar “truth frontier”—creating a portfolio of credibility, finding the right level of ambition, hedged with regular investment in honesty–but slipping in occasional well-placed lies when needed? “With the Affordable Care Act, if you like your healthcare plan, you can keep it.”
Does Morality Matter?
But wait. Even if some leaders succeed by “managing carefully the truth frontier,” is that ethical? And is that the right course for leaders in the future? The first question is ultimately personal, and requires exploring your own moral philosophy. For now, nolo contendere.
The second question is general, and potentially more helpful—because it offers an opportunity to reflect on how any leader should be thinking and acting in coming years. In fact, changes in politics, markets and organizations all signal that leaders should more than ever commit themselves to greater transparency and truthfulness. Power and morality are converging anew.
Last spring New York Times columnist David Brooks argued for a changing political realm. Commenting on Hillary Clinton’s scandals, Brooks asked whether in today’s politics “you can be a bad person but a strong leader?” He argued that the political game is now different:
…power is [now] dispersed… Even the presidency isn’t powerful enough to allow a leader to rule by fear. You have to build coalitions by appealing to people’s self-interest and by luring them voluntarily to your side….Modern politics, like private morality, is about building trust and enduring relationships. That means being fair, empathetic, honest, and trustworthy.
A Changing Game In All Sectors
But politics is not unique. Everywhere power is fragmenting, as traditional hierarchical organizations (and the authority leaders wield because of them) give way to networks and technology-enabled movements. Just as Congressional authority is yielding to super-PACs that mobilize advocates, traditional commercial and non-profit organizations are being undermined by platform-organized networks of independent entrepreneurs and volunteers. Taxi businesses are losing out to Uber, retail businesses to networks of boutique sellers, software companies are being replaced by—or finding new ways to work with—movements of open source hackers. Value is increasingly created by cross-boundary, open collaborations and more agile, distributed, contingent assemblies of people who operate more autonomously, and dynamically than ever before.
The new networked operating environment is less “the company” and more “a community”—with leaders creating collective action not by command and control but by mobilizing talent anywhere, any time. They wield power differently, creating a shared sense of purpose—so members will join and contribute; and trust—so members will work with others without fear, and sustain their contributions over time. Purpose and trust begin and end by leaders telling the truth, and demanding the same from the community.
Scouts, Networks, Communities
Consider the recently reported “scout program” of venture capital giant Sequoia. Sequioa has created a networked community of entrepreneurs (founders of companies they have funded) to help identify emerging early-stage start-ups. Informally structured, the scout entrepreneurs with their own networks extend the knowledge and relationships of the VC beyond its formal boundaries. It’s a win-win community for all.
Entrepreneurs gain access and potential upside from companies they help fund; and they also learn from each other about new market and technology trends. Sequoia partners gain early access to opportunities they might not discover on their own, and tap deeper networks than they can manage themselves. In this networked ecosystem, honesty and transparency are all important. Scouts must truthfully report what they learn, to frame and pursue the new opportunities; partners must truthfully explain their funding judgments so scouts continue to learn from –and for–the VC. Lying to one another, about what’s being investigated or pursued across the community, would bring the whole system down.
Higher Standards
Operating in this kind of world calls for a higher standard of transparency, and greater comfort with openness than earlier generations of leaders have known. In the new community context of networks, movements, and ecosystems, the ethical question now becomes a strategic competency of leaders: how can I tell the truth as often as humanly possible? But make no mistake. Most leaders will have to break new ground to find the more moral way. As Mark Twain dryly noted, “Always do right. Some people will like it. The rest will be astonished.”
Originally published on Forbes.com
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Unlearning Command And Control
3 a.m., somewhere in Iraq, 2005. Two soldiers knock at Stanley McChrystal’s door, seeking permission to launch a risky attack, hundreds of miles away. The four-star commander of the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) sits up, and gives his OK. The next day he has a sudden realization:
Being woken to make a life-or-death decision confirmed my role as a leader, and made me feel important and needed—something most managers yearn for. But… I began to question my value … I had no illusions that my judgment was superior to that of the other people with whom I worked … My inclusion in the [decision] was a rubber stamp that slowed the process, and sometimes caused us to miss fleeting opportunities.
In 2008, Jim Whitehurst, new CEO of Red Hat, had similar doubts. Some staff he had ordered to prepare a report had simply ignored him: “[It] was a bad idea. So we scrapped it.” Whitehurst recalls talking about it with some other corporate leaders:
[They all] gasped, “What do you mean they didn’t do what you asked them?” You should have fired them.” At first I felt that way too. But … my team was right to turn down the job—it either wasn’t a great idea … or I hadn’t done a good enough job selling it to them … A leader’s job is no longer measured by his or her ability to simply issue orders.
Learning A New Way, Unlearning The Old
These and other stories about “taking charge” in network style organizations are told in two terrific new books: Stan McChrystal’s Team of Teams (an educational memoir of his command in Iraq), and Whitehurst’s The Open Organization (reflections on leading Red Hat). Taken together these accounts sketch a vision for leading in the more complex, flat and interconnected operating environment of today.
Anyone can benefit from their vision. We’re all working more networked now, in structures that are flexible and cross boundary. Innovation and agility are the prizes—but at a price. For all the freedom of networks, it’s hard to deliver results without the accountability of hierarchy. How do you work free and fast with loosely linked pools of people– but also get performance? How do you lead people who don’t want to be led? Or don’t even report to you?
That’s the central dilemma that McChrystal and Whitehurst confront; and both stories demonstrate that the leadership journey to find a different way begins with unlearning the old.
McChrystal Lets Go
The general recounts lessons of transforming a traditional command of military units into an unprecedented, extended network—his ah-ha solution “to fight with fire”—against the deadly network of Al Qaeda in Iraq. Stanley McChrystal’s daring strategy was to create a “team of teams”– informally connected but mission-committed cells of Allied operatives and fighting squads, across the Middle East, linked also to intelligence agencies in the U.S. The eventual success of this networked JSOC was its ability to aggregate knowledge and take action more quickly than a traditional military organization.
McChrystal patiently developed what he called “shared consciousness,” a culture of open information, supporting initiative and cross-network collaboration rather than central planning. The hardest part, as he admits, was allowing the network to make most decisions. He struggled with “letting go,” finally accepting that empowered local action, even if sometimes wrong, would beat deliberate but slower command. As McChrystal changed his style, the network raised its game: JSOC dramatically reduced Allied losses, and eventually killed Al Qaeda’s notorious commander, al Zarqawi.
Meanwhile, More Unlearning At Red Hat
Although Jim Whitehurst did not create a multi-unit network like McChrystal, he had his own unlearning at Red Hat. He became CEO of an organization dependent on–and connected to–the networked ecosystem of open source hackers who build Linux. Red Hat, though a corporation, held many of the values and cultural assumptions of that movement—and low tolerance for command and control.
Just as McChrystal had learned the performance value of leading a network, Whitehurst realized Red Hat’s success would depend on leveraging the knowledge and relationships of the broader Linux community. He saw if he could support open source values at Red Hat, the company would be more likely to deliver leading edge solutions for Linux customers.
So, putting aside impulses “to recoil at what felt like chaos,” Whitehurst slowly and sometimes painfully embraced the network-like culture of his new company. Confessing the need for “thick skin”, Whitehurst embraced debate and dissent—including regular objections to his own ideas. He got used to acting more transparently. Abandoning many of his own decisions, he reached out for the best ideas of company members. Swallowing his pride, he honored the internal and external communities of experts who knew more about Linux engineering than he could ever pretend.
Over time he summarized his job as less about directing people and more about “igniting passion” and “acting as a catalyst” for the best ideas coming out of Red Hat and its networks. The key to the company’s good operating results in recent years has also been his steady development of a self-governing performance culture: “everyone is accountable to everyone.”
Common Lessons From General And CEO
So if you want to start your own unlearning program, what advice to draw from these leaders?
1. You Don’t Manage The Network; It Manages You. Both leaders’ transformation began when they realized the network was bigger than they were. Putting aside the perks and ego of former roles, they embraced the more important value of the network itself. Without its knowledge and relationships among the people, they had no power to wield. So accept the strategic reality—cultivate your own thick skin, and then set course to help the network win.
2. Trust, Transparency And Passion Are Not Signs Of Weakness. McChrystal and Whitehurst did lots of left-brain thinking, but weren’t afraid to call on emotions or let their guards down in front of network members. So inspire your people with purpose, open up your own ideas and feelings, and put trust in others. It’s much more motivational than old-fashioned fear.
3. Don’t Hold People Accountable; Help People Be Accountable To Each Other. Every leaders wants to deliver results, but in a network organization, you can’t micro-manage performance. Both McChrystal and Whitehurst created public forums for network members to discuss and evaluate each other’s actions; and they also showcased members as examples to encourage higher performance among others too.
4. Don’t Demand The Final Say—Except Sometimes. You undermine the collective will of a network if you signal member decisions don’t matter. McChrystal and Whitehurst both recount deliberately stepping back from decisions they would have been inclined to make themselves. So honor the judgment of the people, whenever you can.
But sometimes you do have to “make the call.” Both McChrystal and Whitehurst occasionally pulled rank—because of external constraints or significant risk of failure. But they didn’t do it often, or lightly. Before you slip into traditional leadership, just remember that “less is more.”
Originally published on Forbes.com