Leadership is an elusive concept. The characteristics of great leaders may be even more so. The word itself has evolved into a modern platitude, a signature presence in the headlines of presidential campaigns and university brochures for prospective applicants. It is a quality coveted not only in the Oval Office, but also in the corporate firm, the high-school classroom, and the everyday American office space. Leaders are what every parent desires to make their children, and many children in turn desire to make their mark not by following others, but by setting an example worth following. It is a concept which invokes a quality of charisma and implies a certain exceptionalism inherent to its bearer. After all, isn’t it only fair that there exists a significant something which distinguishes the one who leads from the thousands, perhaps even the millions, who follow?
At first glance, our understanding of leadership may seem straightforward. Further reflection, however, suggests more complex undertones. We learn about leadership not only through first-hand experience, but also through our intake of political media coverage, presidential rhetoric, and broader political culture. Everybody is familiar with the word “leadership,” and we all have certain expectations for what qualities leaders possess. For the most part, we recognize the necessity of such individuals in upholding a well-functioning, just status quo.
A rigorous consideration of leadership, however, prompts more questions than answers. Who receives the privilege of being a leader, if it is a privilege at all? Despite the tired reminder that everybody can be a leader, why is leadership so often rendered an exclusive, singular role? Perhaps most importantly, what are the enduring myths of leadership that perpetuate more harm than good? What are the fundamental truths of leadership — ones that lie beneath its superficial stereotypes — which are critical but largely overlooked?
In the words of psychoanalyst and Harvard Business School Professor Emeritus Abraham Zaleznik, “Leadership inevitably requires using power to influence the thoughts and actions of other people.” In his highly-regarded 1977 publication “Managers and Leaders: Are They Different?” Zaleznik investigates the distinctions between the managerial style which thrives in corporate environments and that of the leader, who is less bent on efficiency and more concerned with inspiration. Furthermore, he addresses a collective culture of myth-making towards leadership where people “[attach] almost mythical beliefs to what a leader is and assumes that only great people are worthy of the drama of power and politics.” In this context, Zaleznik identifies leadership as “a psychodrama in which a brilliant, lonely person must gain control of himself or herself as a precondition for controlling others.” Though there may be some merit to such imaginings, Zaleznik argues that these vague impressions of leadership may thwart a more comprehensive, realistic understanding of its true responsibility.
To better interpret leadership, perhaps it is best to first identify its common associations. Certain images, for instance, frequently come to mind when discussing leadership: a suited man standing in front of a podium, a confident executive pointing toward the recommendations of a report. Conventionally, we understand leaders to not only command considerable power, but also an elevated degree of visibility. It’s only natural, for instance, for all eyes in the room to turn to the boss instead of the intern when seeking direction or validation.
What’s interesting, however, is how several celebrated quotes on leadership directly subvert this common association. Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu once said, “A leader is best when people barely know he exists, when his work is done, his aim fulfilled, they will say: we did it ourselves.” American civil rights activist Ella Baker, a champion of horizontal leadership, said that “what is needed is the development of people who are interested not in being leaders as much as developing leadership in others.” Despite her influence and regard among colleagues and members of the civil rights movement, Baker maintained a notably low profile. “You didn’t see me on television, you didn’t see news stories about me,” Baker said “The kind of role that I tried to play was to pick up pieces or put together pieces out of which I hoped organization might come. My theory is, strong people don’t need strong leaders.”
Lao Tzu and Baker’s words display a conviction that leadership is cultivated in the shadows rather than the limelight. In such a form of leadership, authentic leaders prioritize the empowerment of those around them over the increased recognition of their own selves. This realization prompts us to question the motivation of those who seek to be leaders, at least in the conventional sense of the word. Though many who run for office verbalize this intent in magnetic calls for societal change, is it too pessimistic to consider the existence of a parallel, often hushed hunger for fame and the manifold privileges leadership yields?
In the first installment of Barack Obama’s memoir, A Promised Land, the former president recalls his colleague Ted Kennedy repeating a famous utterance that there are “one hundred senators who look in the mirror and see a president.” Though such staggering ambition to affect change may be heartening, there is also a satiric, almost rueful quality to the quote: It’s more than likely that those who strive for positions of high power harbor varying degrees of what could be called a self-centered delusion.
Obama aptly questions these misguided desires in the earlier portion of his memoir. Detailing the familial tensions he witnessed when considering whether or not to run for office, Obama reflects on the decision’s impact on his wife. “Why would I put her through this?” he asks. “Was it just vanity? Or perhaps something darker — a raw hunger, a blind ambition wrapped in the gauzy language of service?” Such considerations illustrate the conflicting responsibilities of being a presidential candidate, husband, and father. In rising to the challenge of the American presidency, Obama necessarily compromised the career of his wife and his own role in the upbringing of his children. It can be argued, then, that in the process of adopting a model of presidential leadership, Obama was forced to forfeit a portion of his familial leadership.
The purpose of comparing Obama’s presidential and familial responsibilities is not to cast leadership in a binary light. Rather, it is to challenge the frequently singular interpretation we have of leadership, and call into question the various individuals we may overlook as leaders. Dee Dee Myers, former White House Press Secretary, once said that she was “endlessly fascinated that playing football is considered a training ground for leadership, but raising children isn’t.” Motherhood and other roles traditionally associated with the domestic sphere frequently elude our minds when we conceptualize traditional leaders. Though Forbes and Business Insider have published articles on “7 Leadership Lessons You Can Learn From Working Mothers” and “How Becoming a Mother Made 11 Leaders Better at Their Jobs,” their focus on the employed suggests that leadership is limited to working mothers, or females who have careers and children. Why must our conceptions of leadership be limited to the conventional spheres of corporatism, politics, and entrepreneurship?
These considerations worm their way into how we perceive and acknowledge various occupations and their proximity to leadership. The labor of a blue-collar worker is most often not held in as high regard as the efforts of an elected official. And yet, is the responsibility of constructing physical roads not as essential as the legislation passed to fund those roads? Despite the nominal understanding that embedded in the core of leadership is the spirit of service, we have a tendency to discount the everyday contributions of ordinary people while keeping our eyes glued to television screens — ones which regularly detail the latest discussions among high-profile diplomats and the outer-space escapades of billionaires.
Defining leadership is a deceptively simple task, but one whose urgency endures. There exist scores of leadership archetypes, and many of these models are in direct conversation and conflict with one another. Exemplifying leadership in a single realm of one’s life or career is not synonymous with possessing that leadership in another. Questions of selflessness and sacrifice arise when contemplating the motivations of leaders and contrasting their exterior and interior desires. By investigating contemporary American hegemony, Harvard undergraduate opinion, and secondary education, this column will cast into relief the political and moral complexity of leadership, and argue that interrogating the very foundations of leadership is the first step towards realizing its truest potential.
Image by Dan Calderwood is licensed under the Unsplash License.
