Month: January 2021

Two of the best books I read in 2020 dealt with the same topic – leadership. “The Mask of Command” by John Keegan examines the way generals have led troops through changes in military technology. Doris Kearns Goodwin’s “Leadership: In Turbulent Times” looks at US Presidential response in time of crisis to try and understand the characteristics that make an effective leader. Both chose four exemplars to focus their discussion.  I cannot recommend either book too highly. 

Keegan was interested in how the leaders he discussed either adapted, or failed to adapt, to the transformation of warfare. Central to their success was the ability to command loyalty, understand the logistics of war in their time and their willingness to take risks. In discussing Hitler as a military leader, Keegan also spent significant time highlighting where his leadership failed, particularly through an unwillingness to listen to others, a need to surround himself with sycophants who would not challenge his decisions and an inability to honestly reassess his own decisions. 

Goodwin had a much broader agenda. She clearly was not only looking back at the Presidents that she was covering, but also at the current occupant of the White House. The characteristics she emphasizes in managing crises are empathy, resilience, the ability to communicate, openness and the willingness to step back and reflect. For Goodwin, just having these traits would not make someone a great leader. A true leader would also need a driving ambition and a sense of moral purpose.     

Goodwin undoubtedly wants her readers to look at Donald Trump (and find him lacking). It is not as simple as she would like. As the Trump presidency fades into the night, we can start to look at him objectively and assess him as a leader over and apart from the policies he implemented. What was it about Donald Trump that drew so many to him, and made so many despise him?  

Trump’s leadership style is unique in American political history, at least as far as I can tell. He attacks anyone and everyone who crosses him even slightly in a never-ending stream of vitriol. It is not only that such critics are wrong, they are stupid, vile, corrupt, and worse. We have had plenty of politicians who did not shy away from verbal fisticuffs, but we have never had a President or other political leader who so consistently and relentlessly vilifies his opponents. It is the essence of his leadership style. 

We have to admit to ourselves that this modus operandi can be effective. Many of Donald Trump’s supporters are rabid in their devotion, and his unwillingness to back down on anything is a big reason why. His non-stop attacks make him appear strong. He is the opposite of the politician who tries to please everyone (i.e. find consensus), and his candor is admired, especially since his supporters generally agree with him regarding those he vilifies.  

Conventional wisdom prior to Trump was that while such an attacking style could work to gather a core, it could not attract wide support. Trump proved that conventional wisdom wrong. He was able to maintain this relentlessly attacking mode and still appeal to a broad section of the electorate. This means that we cannot dismiss the attraction of this approach.  

Trump’s ability to maintain this leadership style was aided by the fact that the only significant crises we had during the first three years of his presidency were political crises – the Russian interference investigation, the constitutionality of the Muslim ban, the funding of the border wall, for example. We were involved in military operations in Afghanistan and the middle east, but had been there for years. The economy was strong and unemployment was low. Any other politician would have simply touted those successes and ignored his or her detractors, but that is not Trump. His never-ending attacks made it seem that we were living amid constant crises, which served to validate his harsh rhetoric. 

In this last year we have seen the limitations of this leadership style. The COVID epidemic was not one that could be belittled away. Trump did try, labeling COVID as the Kung Flu , blaming Democrats and the media for the continuing spread, lambasting the CDC for their dire projections. However, COVID was immune to these attacks and continued to develop unabated.  

What was needed to face this crisis, as with most national crises, was a unity of purpose. But it is impossible to create that unity when you have created an unadulterated atmosphere of antagonism. Trump may have drawn supporters by his attacks, but he alienated just as many, if not more, just because of that style.  

Trump never even tried to unify the country to respond to COVID. He would have had to put aside his attacks and seek broad consensus, draw together disparate groups and articulate a shared vision for that to happen. It would have been difficult in light of the rhetoric of the prior three years. More importantly, it would have been contrary to his leadership instincts, and it is hard to envision him putting those instincts aside. 

The COVID crisis also brought to the fore another flaw in the Trump leadership style. When you attack in such stark terms, you start to believe your own rhetoric, no matter how outlandish. The positive feedback he got from his rallies, the supportive media and ever smaller circle of advisors only reinforced in his mind that he was correct in castigating his opponents. It would almost have been traitorous to seek consensus with the like of those who were so abhorrent. 

This insularity also can lead to a misjudgment of strength, which is what I think led to January 6. When all you listen to are the cheers, you can fool yourself into believing that there are many more who not only agree that your opponents are the scum of the earth, but are willing to go to any lengths to eliminate them.  You fail to see that for most there is a limit, at least in this country.        

It is almost axiomatic to say that unity is impossible in the country today, but I think that is only true to a certain extent. This country has always been divided, but has yet been able to move in a common direction in times of crises. The Great Depression and WWII are prime examples of this. That does not mean that there were no dissenters, but a general consensus was achieved and the country acted.  

We have also been able to remake the basic assumptions of the relationship between the government and the American people despite deep divisions on the wisdom of those changes. We did it in at the turn of the century with antitrust and other “progressive” reforms, at the time of the Great Depression with economic regulation and in the 1960’s with civil rights reform and the Great Society programs.  

Maybe I am naïve, but I still think that it is possible to do this again with the right kind of leadership. But it cannot happen with a purely negative approach. It is not enough to castigate. We cannot succeed if we view this as purely an us versus them scenario, as much as it has seemed that way over the last four years. We also have to project a positive vision of the future if we want to effect change. A tall task, but I think we are up to it.  

Last night I watched a double feature. First was the Talking Heads movie, Stop Making Sense, one of my favorites. We followed that with David Byrne’s American Utopia, his Broadway show coming out of his album by the same name. (We saw the show when it was in Philly back in 2018). Two remarkable performances spanning 35 years.  

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As I sat there entranced first by a young David Byrne showing so much energy, imagination and intensity, and then by a much older David Byrne, not quite as agile, but still showing that same exuberance and creativity, the thought crossed my mind that right now he was one of my heroes. I don’t say that lightly. Heroes are hard to come by and generally let you down. But I am at a time in my life where I welcome some new heroes for inspiration. 

When I was growing up my heroes were sports figures. Initially it was Pete Rose, Bobby Murcer and Roger Staubach (sad, but true, fellow Eagle fans). I would always check to see how they had performed in their most recent game, what others were saying about them, and would go out of my way to watch them play when I could. However, by the time I was 12 or 13 it became clear even to me that I was more of a Bob Ueker than a Bob Gibson, and as much as I would want to emulate athletes, it just wasn’t going to happen. 

It was easy to shift from athletes to movie stars. After all, I wasted way too much of my time watching TV. I was struck by the steely, suave actors. My favorites were Humphrey Bogart and Errol Flynn. (“Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine…”). Again, however, reality struck hard. I was forced to admit that Maxwell Smart would have been a more apt role model for me than any of those Hollywood tough guys. 

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Like most people I came to that point in my life where heroes were no longer relevant. After all, I was just trying to survive in the work world and raise a family. Sure, there were a lot of people that I admired greatly over the years. People like Bobby Kennedy, at least as portrayed by Athur Schlesinger in Robert Kennedy and his Times. Or James Baldwin, after watching I am Not Your Negro, and reading a number of his books. Still, it made no sense to raise these people to hero status. It wasn’t as if I was anywhere near their path in life. 

So why would I want to go back to heroes now, and why would David Bryne, of all people, fit that mold? I think that it is because I have moved into a new phase of life, much as I did 37 years ago when I first started working, and I would like some guidance to figure out what that means. All of a sudden I have time on my hands that I never had before. There are a lot of options, but not much clear direction. A hero could help guide the way. 

To understand how that relates to David Byrne I have to go back to American Utopia.  David Byrne has put together a show that is clearly part of his on-going, and apparently never-ending, attempt to understand the human condition. Many of the songs in the show are from the Talking Heads days, but they are all reimagined, not regurgitated. They blend well with the new material to create something that is a whole concept. Plus, he stages the music brilliantly, freeing himself and the band from wires and amps, so that everyone can move fluidly around the stage, interacting, overlapping, engaging. 

What inspires me about this is how David Byrne is not content to rest on his many laurels. He could easily have gone out, put on the Big Suit once again, and redone the Talking Heads greatest hits. Everyone would have loved it, including me. But at 68 that was not enough. He wanted to dig deeper, stretch further, push the boundaries, risking that the audience would just sit on their hands waiting for the next hit to come along. That is heroic. 

There are others that continue their creativity and exploration when it would be easier to sit back. Robert Plant was willing to alienate his hard rock fans by going in a different direction, and the result was the incredible Band of Joy albums, and his collaboration with Alison Krause. Phillip Roth wrote two of his most memorable books, American Pastoral and The Human Stain, after he turned 60, like David Byrne trying to make sense of this country, and the people in it. Jane Goodall continues her advocacy for animals and the environment, pledging last year to plant 5 million trees, part of the 1 trillion tree initiative.  

There are many more out there doing small and large things that keep them looking ahead instead of looking back. They have begun my touchstones as I figure out what to do with the rest of my life, a question I haven’t had to consider since I was 22. As David Byrne would say, “We’re on a road to nowhere, Come on inside. Takin’ that ride to nowhere, We’ll take that ride. I’m feelin’ okay this mornin’. And you know, We’re on a road to paradise. Here we go, here we go.”