Americans have from the start seen themselves as a heroic people, people of action who crossed treacherous stretches of sea and land to conquer new worlds.
That mentality is baked into how Americans tend to view leadership. Leaders are doers, not thinkers. “Less talk, more rock,” could be the national slogan.
But if there were ever a moment when Americans needed to move from action-oriented to wisdom-oriented leadership, it is this one—as the nation grows increasingly stratified and tribal, as the ultimate effects of new technologies become hard to discern, and as the old reliable fabric of human society no longer holds together.
Neil Postman noted nearly three decades ago in Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology that Americans were from the beginning predisposed to heroic action, which he said is why they were so keen on adopting new tools and technologies without pausing to consider how they themselves might be changed or compromised in the process.
American medicine was especially aggressive, Postman observed. Circumspection and restraint were for “the effeminate” and for Europeans. One of the founding fathers, the influential physician Benjamin Rush, was known for prescribing frequent bleedings and generous doses of mercury to heal yellow fever patients. “Although Rush was not in attendance during George Washington’s final days,” Postman wrote, “Washington was bled seven times on the night he died, which, no doubt, had something to do with why he died.”
First Talk, Then Rock
But while action-oriented leadership was nurtured to a mammoth scale here in this first modern democracy, we can find in the first ancient democracy lessons in wisdom-oriented leadership.
Perhaps it’s fitting that such a leadership orientation would rise up in Athens, which had chosen Athena over Poseidon to serve as its patron deity. In short, a city that signaled through its very name that it had chosen wisdom over power would be the world’s first known city willing to attempt democracy.
Athena offered citizens an olive tree, a symbol of enduring sustenance and wisdom, resulting in her ... [+]
Several decades into its existence, the fledgling democracy found itself at war with Sparta, a city-state that exemplified bold action and that laughed at silly ideals like democratic discourse. Near the outset of this Peloponnesian war, the Athenian general Pericles offered one of the most significant speeches in history, his funeral oration for fallen soldiers. At a crucial juncture, he addressed the charge that the Spartans were made of stronger stuff.
“Whereas they from early youth are always undergoing laborious exercises which are to make them brave,” Pericles said, “We live at ease, and yet are equally ready to face the perils which they face.”
In fact, Pericles asserted that the deliberate and thoughtful style of the Athenians made them bolder, because they knew their collaborative decisions were wiser.
“[O]ur strength lies, in our opinion, not in deliberation and discussion, but that knowledge which is gained by discussion preparatory to action,” Pericles said. “For we have a peculiar power of thinking before we act, and of acting, too, whereas other men are courageous from ignorance but hesitate upon reflection.”
When modern management gurus offer pithy slogans like “none of us is as smart as all of us,” they’re expressing that same ancient essence of democracy.
The maxim at times seems corny, but it’s demonstrably true. The late Warren Bennis, considered the father of modern academic leadership studies (and a mentor of this writer) conducted numerous studies that conceded that a person of action made the best leader for simple, unambiguous tasks. But Bennis found that those who shared information, perspectives and decision-making were most effective in handling the most complex, ambiguous situations. (In fact, the greater the diversity of people and perspectives involved, the greater the ability to address those situations successfully.)
And can anyone deny that the challenges facing our businesses, governments, nonprofit organizations and social movements are infinitely complex and ambiguous?
In other words, the democratic approach is meaningful not because it’s the nice thing to do, but rather the effective, smart thing to do.
Americans are fundamentally a paradox. They reinvented democracy for modern times, but the bias toward action—heroic action!—means that, whatever their ideology or vocation, they will at times neglect or even undermine the mechanisms of democracy.
Wisdom-oriented leadership, or the way of Athena, means that “This one way is always best” is a less meaningful mentality than “It depends.” It suggests that nuance must be tolerated. That change and novelty aren’t always desirable. And that talk isn’t cheap—it’s the only path to wisdom.
In this way, there is a great deal we can learn today from those who chose Athena over Poseidon.
