A Perfect 10 Has Nowhere to Go

 

This also appears in O'Dwyer's PR

Years ago, during a job interview, I asked the chairman of a global company how he would rate his organization across a range of measures.

“The company is a 10,” he said.

Not an eight or even a nine and a half. A 10.

I wondered: Really? No dissatisfied customers, no failed employees, no products to improve, no smarter competitors?

Whether his answer reflected confidence, salesmanship, or sincere belief, I knew what bothered me. A 10 leaves you nowhere to go.

Today, we are seeing a far more consequential version of the “10” mindset in President Donald Trump’s effort to reshape how America tells its history.

There is much to celebrate in this country, and debate over history is natural. Historians argue, interpretations change, and new evidence emerges. But starting with the conclusion that America must look good and then filtering facts accordingly is different and dangerous.

In March 2025, Trump issued an executive order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.” The administration argued that recent interpretations had replaced objective history with an ideological narrative portraying the United States as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or irredeemably flawed. The order directed federal historical sites to avoid content that “inappropriately disparage[s]” Americans and to focus on national achievements and progress.

That criticism deserves consideration.

Museums can be selective, ideological, and wrong, too. But the remedy for one-sided history is better history, not government-directed history that leads to a preferred conclusion. A history museum’s purpose is to help us understand what happened, not to make us feel good or bad.

Trump later complained that the Smithsonian was “OUT OF CONTROL” and focused excessively on “how bad Slavery was” rather than American “Success” and “Brightness.”

The dispute has since intensified. In July 2026, Trump issued another order, “Restoring Trust in the Smithsonian Institution,” pressing for changes at the National Museum of American History. In September, the administration threatened to curtail federal agencies’ support for the Smithsonian, including artifact loans, procurement assistance, and discretionary grants.

The campaign extends beyond the Smithsonian. A court-ordered inventory found that the National Park Service had removed at least 51 exhibits from 37 sites, including material about slavery and climate change. A federal judge ordered the exhibits restored, but the administration appealed.

This illustrates the danger. When inconvenient facts are softened or removed because they conflict with an officially preferred national narrative, public history shifts from inquiry to persuasion. When the government decides in advance which conclusions citizens should draw, persuasion can become propaganda.

Propaganda does more than distort the past. It limits what we can do tomorrow. Those who cannot admit mistakes cannot learn. A company convinced that it’s a 10 stops improving. A country taught that acknowledging failure is unpatriotic risks losing democracy’s most vital capacity: self-correction.

There is a revealing contradiction in Trump’s most famous slogan: Make America Great Again. MAGA acknowledges that America can lose its way and needs repair. But “again” points backward, tempting us to polish the past until it shines.

American exceptionalism need not mean American infallibility. The United States was an extraordinary political experiment, founded on ideas of representative government, liberty, and individual rights that inspired people around the world. Taking those ideals seriously requires examining the times the country betrayed them.

The Founders themselves were hardly unanimous about their country’s moral condition. At the Constitutional Convention, Gouverneur Morris called slavery a “nefarious institution” and “the curse of heaven” on the states where it prevailed. George Mason, himself a slaveholder, warned that “Providence punishes national sins, by national calamities.” Yet the Constitution compromised with slavery.

That does not reduce the founding to hypocrisy. It shows that people can accomplish great things even while tolerating profound injustice. Later generations inherit both the achievements and the unfinished work.

The Marquis de Lafayette understood that distinction. When Lafayette returned to the United States in 1824 as a celebrated hero of the Revolution, he remained devoted to the American experiment—and opposed to slavery. At Monticello, Israel Jefferson, an enslaved man who worked there, later recalled hearing Lafayette argue that enslaved people ought to be free and that no man could rightfully own his “brother man.”

Lafayette had risked his life for America. Challenging one of its greatest injustices did not make him hostile to the country. It meant he took its principles seriously.

Honest history explains American progress; it does not diminish America.

Give us Washington, the leader and slaveholder; Jefferson’s Declaration and his failures; westward expansion and its cost to Native Americans; Normandy and Jim Crow.

If America was always a 10, what exactly were all those Americans fighting to change?

Abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights marchers, reformers, and ordinary citizens did not make America less American by exposing the gap between ideals and reality. Much of what we celebrate as progress came because they refused to pretend the country had already arrived.

The Constitution does not proclaim a perfect Union. Its preamble speaks instead of forming “a more perfect Union.” Those two words matter. More perfect means unfinished. Improvement is possible. Tomorrow can be better because we recognize what was wrong with yesterday.

That chairman’s assertion stayed with me because it violated something I have come to believe about successful organizations, people, and countries. The moment you convince yourself you are a 10 is often the moment you stop improving.

America does not need to be told it has always been perfect. It needs honest history that shows what it accomplished and what Americans had to struggle to change.

That is not a rejection of America’s story. It is how the story keeps moving forward.

Return-to-Office Mandates Reveal a Crisis of Trust

This article also appears in O'Dywer's PR.

In their New York Times opinion piece (The Secret Reason Bosses Want Everyone Back in the Office, Every Day of the Week, June 22, 2016), Adam Grant, Marissa Shandell, and Courtney Elliott offer a sharp explanation for why many bosses want employees back in the office full-time. Their argument centers on narcissism: some leaders who crave attention, status, and control may prefer workplaces where employees are physically present, visible, and available. The office becomes a source of validation. The boss walks through it and sees proof of authority.

 

Anyone who has worked for a status-conscious executive can recognize the pattern. Some leaders do not simply want work done. They want their importance affirmed, and a full office affirms it. Empty desks feel like rejection, and remote work can feel like a loss of relevance.

 

But narcissism may not tell the whole story. The push to return to the office also reveals a broader failure of leadership.

 

Remote and hybrid work require managers to do what good leaders should have been doing all along: set clear expectations, define success, communicate priorities, measure outcomes, and hold people accountable. When those disciplines are weak, the office becomes a substitute for management.

 

A leader who cannot articulate expectations may prefer a workplace where everyone stays within sight. A leader who cannot judge performance by results may rely on visible effort. A leader who has not learned to delegate may feel calmer when employees remain within reach. The office serves less as a place for collaboration and more as a tool for reassurance.

 

I learned this lesson the hard way. In the late 1990s, I led a successful department at a global PR agency. People wanted to join it. The team was engaged, the work was strong, and the business was highly profitable. I did not consider myself a micromanager, and by the usual definition, I was not. Yet my hands ended up being in nearly every project.

 

When senior management asked me to attend a leadership retreat run by the Center for Creative Leadership, I was initially offended. Why send me? No department seemed more energized, and none was delivering stronger financial results.

 

The experience changed my view. A team can be successful yet still be constrained by its leader. My close involvement had helped build the department, but it could also limit its growth. The business would only expand so far if every major decision, risk, or opportunity still passed too closely through me.

 

I became a champion of letting go. That did not mean abandoning standards or disappearing from the work. It meant trusting the people I had carefully chosen. It meant giving them more autonomy, more accountability, and more room to take risks, while making sure they knew I would back them up. The result was no less control in any meaningful sense. It had greater capacity, more initiative, and more opportunities for the team and the business.

 

That lesson applies directly to today’s office mandates. Trust is at the center of the debate. Remote work requires leaders to trust adults to act responsibly. Trust does not mean neglect. Employees who miss deadlines, avoid responsibility, or perform poorly should face consequences. But treating an entire workforce as suspect because some managers fear abuse is not leadership. It is anxiety turned into policy.

 

Anxiety also undermines delegation. Leaders who cannot trust employees outside their line of sight tend to hoard decisions, second-guess work, and create bottlenecks. They ask people to take ownership, then reclaim authority the moment work occurs outside their direct line of sight. A return-to-office mandate gives leaders a sense of control without requiring them to share power.

 

Presence can be valuable. Some conversations and brainstorming sessions work better face-to-face. Mentorship matters. New employees often learn by watching experienced colleagues navigate clients, meetings, setbacks, and internal politics. Creative work can benefit from time spent together in the same room.

 

Those are arguments for purposeful office use, not blanket mandates. A well-led company can decide which tasks benefit from proximity and which do not. A weaker company defaults to a rule.

 

The result is corporate theater. Desks are occupied, conference rooms are booked, and hallways are busy. Executives can walk through the office and feel reassured. But movement is not progress. A crowded office can still produce shallow work, weak decisions, and slow execution. A quiet home office can produce focus, judgment, and results.

 

Another motive deserves candor: real estate. Many companies signed costly long-term leases. Headquarters became monuments to ambition, status, and permanence. After the pandemic, empty floors made those choices look wasteful. Bringing workers back helps leaders justify the cost to themselves, their boards, and their shareholders.

 

That does not make office space worthless. It means office space should serve work, not the other way around. Leaders should ask which teams need shared days, which meetings require in-person attendance, how mentoring will be conducted, and what employees gain from commuting. “Because we have the space” is not a strategy. A lease is not a leadership strategy, and sunk costs should not dictate employee policy.

 

Grant and his co-authors are right to highlight narcissism among some executives. For some bosses, the office is a stage, and employees are the audience. But the deeper problem may be less theatrical and more pervasive. Many bosses want employees back because they have yet to learn to lead with trust, clarity, and results.

 

The office can support good leadership. It cannot replace it.

 

 

A Hundred Years Is Too Long to Wait

Today is the anniversary of the Civil War’s opening shot. On April 12, 1861, Confederate forces fired on Fort Sumter, beginning a bombardment that would launch four years of slaughter. That war did not erupt because America had settled its deepest racial contradiction. It erupted because the country had postponed it — and postponement, in America, has a way of becoming a habit.

America has settled into a troubling rhythm: roughly every hundred years, the nation makes a major formal advance against racial injustice — only after long resistance, bitter struggle, and blood. The Declaration of Independence in 1776 gave us the principle. The 13th Amendment, ratified in 1865, abolished slavery. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 dismantled segregation and legal discrimination. None arrived cleanly or uncontested.

Start with the Declaration. Americans rightly celebrate it as the nation’s statement of human equality. But even at its creation, the promise was narrowed by political cowardice. Congress deleted Jefferson’s passage condemning slavery and the slave trade — in part to satisfy South Carolina and Georgia, and in part because northern commercial interests were implicated. The founding document offered a universal creed while shrinking from a full confrontation with human bondage. The first great American statement against inequality was compromised before the ink was dry.

Then came the century of evasion, rationalization, and bloodshed. Defenders of slavery wrapped themselves in the language of property, local control, and constitutional restraint. But the historical record is unambiguous: secession was driven by the determination to preserve slavery. Confederate vice president Alexander Stephens said so plainly — the Confederacy, he declared, rested on slavery and white supremacy as its cornerstone. Even emancipation was denounced as ruinous, lawless, and socially catastrophic. Yet the 13th Amendment, ratified in 1865, abolished slavery nationwide. It was a giant step, but one taken only after war, slaughter, and years of arguments designed to make justice seem impossible.

A century later, the country had to fight again over whether Black Americans would enjoy rights already promised on paper. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 outlawed segregation in public accommodations, addressed employment discrimination, and promoted school integration — but it did not emerge from consensus. It came after years in which Southern states and local authorities met civil rights demands with arrests, beatings, police dogs, fire hoses, and organized obstruction. In Birmingham, police attacked young demonstrators with dogs and high-pressure hoses. In Mississippi, Freedom Summer volunteers faced beatings, arrests, bombings, and murder. In Selma, state troopers brutally assaulted peaceful marchers on a bridge the whole country watched. The law passed, but force was used again and again to delay, block, and punish its moral logic.

That is the real pattern. America does move — but only after making the targets of injustice endure another generation, or three, of excuses. The 1770s gave us the promise. The 1860s abolished slavery. The 1960s dismantled legalized segregation. We should take hope from that progress, but not comfort from its pace.

A hundred years is too long to wait for another leap forward. We should not resign ourselves to hoping that the 2060s will finally bring the next great breakthrough. The pattern has repeated twice. A country that has already postponed justice through slavery, segregation, and generations of excuse-making forfeits the moral right to postpone it again. Refuse to let the pattern repeat a third time. Demand change now — not after another century of delay.

We're Paying $1 Billion to Fall Behind

Every country makes mistakes. What’s harder to accept is when a country makes them on purpose—or at least knowingly. The United States is currently doing both, making choices that point not sideways, not slower, but backward in ways that could take a generation to undo.

The federal government recently agreed to pay roughly $1 billion to TotalEnergies to abandon offshore wind projects in U.S. waters. Those projects were expected to power more than a million homes. Instead, that capital is being redirected into dirtier, less sustainable oil and gas development. This is not deregulation. It is a deliberate, taxpayer-funded intervention to halt one form of domestic energy production in favor of another.

That alone should give pause. But it's part of a pattern—across energy, science, public health, civil rights, and institutional governance—that suggests the country is pulling away from the very foundations that built its strength. And not by accident.

Science and Research

Energy decisions make headlines. Science policy rarely does. But the consequences of underfunding it outlast any news cycle.

For decades, American leadership has been built on sustained investment in research through institutions like the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation, investments that produced the breakthroughs defining modern life, from cancer therapies to semiconductors. Recent funding constraints and disruptions are already affecting research pipelines. Universities are scaling back. Grants are stalled. Researchers are reconsidering where to build their careers.

This isn't theoretical. It's arithmetic: slow the investment, slow the innovation, lose the ground. China has spent years building out its research capacity. The EU keeps deepening collaborative funding. The U.S. doesn't need to outspend them. But walking away from the table is a different thing entirely.

Public Health

The costs in public health are the most immediate. The United States spent decades creating a system capable of responding to outbreaks, developing vaccines, and protecting population health. It took a long time to build. It’s taking a far shorter amount of time to break.

Recent shifts in vaccine policy and public health messaging are accelerating that erosion. Growing political interference in agencies like HHS, combined with amplified skepticism toward vaccines despite overwhelming scientific consensus, is undermining the institutional confidence that makes public health systems work. Vaccines are one of the most effective tools medicine has ever produced, and the trust behind them took generations to earn.

Eroding confidence in that system doesn't create freedom. It creates a specific kind of vulnerability—the kind that shows up as outbreaks, as misinformation taking hold, as people dying from diseases we know how to prevent. And once that trust is gone, it doesn't come back easily.

Environmental Policy

Not every regulation is worth keeping. Some rules are outdated, some are redundant, and a serious case can be made for trimming them. But that's a different argument from what's actually happening.

Efforts to weaken water protections, emissions standards, and pollutant tracking may reduce compliance costs in the short term. But many of these protections were established after costly failures: industrial contamination, unsafe air, widespread health consequences. Rolling them back doesn't eliminate risk. It shifts it onto communities and future taxpayers. When guardrails are removed, the consequences tend to arrive later and cost more.

Voting Rights and the Press

A country's strength depends on whether people trust the system that governs them. The proposed SAVE Act would require documentary proof of citizenship to register to vote. Noncitizen voting is already exceedingly rare, yet millions of eligible Americans lack ready access to such documentation—rural voters, lower-income individuals, many married women whose legal names differ from their birth certificates. When barriers rise, access falls. Policies that reverse the trajectory toward broader participation reshape who governs and who does not.

The same pressure is bearing down on the press. The First Amendment isn't an abstraction—it's the mechanism by which power gets scrutinized, challenged, and held to account. When the government threatens broadcast licenses, targets specific media organizations through regulatory pressure, and repeatedly labels journalists as enemies of the state, the effect is a press that pulls its punches. A country without independent journalism doesn't become more stable. It becomes less informed, and more easily misled.

The Pattern

Each of these areas can be debated individually. But taken together, they point in the same direction: away from investment in the future, away from scientific expertise, away from broad democratic participation, and away from the independent institutions that hold power accountable. That is not a neutral shift. It is a deliberate one.

And because these systems are connected, the damage doesn’t stay in one place. Weaker research means slower medical breakthroughs and fewer competitive industries. A less trusted public health system means a less healthy, less productive workforce. And when people stop trusting institutions, the effects are harder to trace but impossible to ignore.

It's tempting to view these developments as inevitable, as if they're simply the product of forces too large to name or change. They're not. They are the result of decisions made by elected officials, supported by voters, and enabled by disengagement.

Many Americans supporting these policies are doing so in good faith, responding to legitimate concerns about economic security and eroding trust in government. But good intentions don't guarantee good outcomes. In practice, these policies often work against the very interests they claim to serve—gutting research slows the medical breakthroughs that save lives, weakening public health infrastructure puts families at greater risk, and turning away from future industries shrinks the economy those families depend on.

This isn’t really about left or right. It’s about whether the choices being made actually serve the people they’re supposed to serve.

The United States is not in irreversible decline. It remains one of the most dynamic and capable countries in the world. But direction matters.

Spending $1 billion to shut down offshore wind development is not the defining policy of this era. But it’s a clear signal of what the priorities are—and those priorities reach well beyond energy. Countries don’t usually fall behind all at once. They do it gradually, through decisions that each seem defensible on their own but add up to something much harder to reverse.

That process can be reversed. But it won't reverse itself. It takes attention and engagement—and if left unaddressed, it can last for a generation.

The Problem with “Tough Guys” and Apologies

For some leaders, refusing to apologize is a sign of strength. Apologies are often seen as a weakness or as proof that a leader has lost control of the narrative. The louder the criticism, the more they resist saying “I’m sorry.”

Recent events show how flawed this mindset is. After Donald Trump shared – and later deleted – a video showing a blatantly racist clip of Barack and Michelle Obama, criticism came quickly from across the political spectrum.

But what prolonged the controversy wasn’t the post itself; it was the response. When confronted, Trump stated flatly, “I didn’t make a mistake.”

That statement perfectly illustrates why so many public apologies fail before they even start. What’s notable, however, is that this refusal to accept responsibility is no longer just personal; it has become institutionalized. Trump operates a communications apparatus designed to quickly and aggressively deflect blame or dismiss it as media distortion.

Karoline Leavitt gave a clear example when she scolded the news media, saying, “Please stop the fake outrage and report on something today that actually matters to the American public.” In such an environment, offering an apology isn’t merely discouraged; it is fundamentally incompatible with the messaging strategy. 

A helpful way to think about apologies comes from an unlikely source: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. In communication, especially with issues and crisis management, we constantly question whether a response is too much, too little, or just right. Apologies are no different. Does the situation call for one? And if so, will it land as too weak, overly apologetic, or just enough?

The problem isn’t that we apologize too often. It’s that we apologize poorly – or avoid it altogether.

As the importance of apologies has grown, so has the demand for them. But not because society has become more sensitive or civil. Increasingly, apologies are used as leverage – a way to put someone on the defensive. Perceive a slight? Demand an apology. In today’s world, it’s easy to see why leaders become defensive and why a blanket “never apologize” stance can seem appealing. Mitt Romney embraced that stance right in the title of his book, No Apology: The Case for American Greatness. There’s an argument that we’re entitled to this because of all the good the country has done in the world. But a history of good deeds, whether personal, corporate, or national, doesn’t shield anyone from responsibility when serious mistakes occur. Banking goodwill may buy some benefit of the doubt, but it doesn’t excuse causing harm. 

After years of studying political, corporate, and personal apologies, I’ve realized it’s partly a discipline rather than a reflex – something that can be learned, refined, and measured. That realization led me to create what I call the 6 A’s of Apology: 

• Acknowledging that something has happened
• Authentic expression of regret
• Appropriate tone and language
• Acceptable location, determining who and how many receive the message
• Acting within the right timeframe
• Announcing next steps

No apology can begin without acknowledgment. When a leader says, “I didn’t make a mistake,” the process ends before it starts. No acknowledgment, no acceptance, no empathy, and no repair. What may feel like defiance to the speaker often registers as indifference to the audience.

Bad apologies generate headlines of their own and can cause real harm. Actions that should help heal can instead deepen wounds. Silence, defensiveness, or half-hearted apologies often do more damage than saying nothing at all. A slow, insensitive response can overshadow good intentions and magnify the fallout.

Good apologies, however, can defuse tense situations and reduce media attention. They tend to shorten controversies rather than prolong them. They reaffirm shared values rather than challenge them.

This is where so-called “tough guys” often go wrong. They confuse apology with submission and assume that admitting fault means losing power. In reality, refusing to apologize often signals insecurity – fear that acknowledging error will shatter a carefully constructed image of dominance. When that fear is reinforced by an institutional communication strategy built around denial, it predictably fuels escalation rather than projecting strength.

Leadership isn’t about never being wrong. It’s about how you respond when you are, since responses determine both the extent of the damage and how long it lasts. How you say “I’m sorry” might matter more than the original mistake. 

A sincere apology doesn’t weaken a leader. It demonstrates confidence, emotional intelligence, and moral clarity. The real weakness isn’t in apologizing; it’s in the inability – or unwillingness – to accept responsibility when it’s necessary.

The Fools of April

I remember looking forward to April Fools’ Day – the gags, the puns, and the harmless pranks that sparked laughter or, at least, a good groan. This year? It felt like April Fools just disappeared. Hardly anyone I know made the slightest attempt to lighten the day. The world felt too heavy. The jokes, if they existed, weren’t funny anymore.

Years ago, some stories we see now might have given us pause: Wait, that can’t be real… is this an April Fools’ joke? But today, there’s no punchline – just policy. April isn’t over yet, but let’s review a few.

Universities Defunded

The Trump Administration intensified its campaign against higher education institutions, citing antisemitism as the justification for funding cuts and other punitive measures. 

It’s offensive. It’s manipulative. 

Let’s not forget the 2017 “Unite the Right Rally” in Charlottesville, Virginia, where clashes between white nationalists, neo-Nazis, and other far-right groups resulted in the death of a counter-protester and injuries to others. Donald Trump commented, "You had some very bad people in that group, but you also had very fine people on both sides." 

This isn’t policy; it’s political retribution dressed up as civil rights enforcement. Antisemitism must be addressed in the strongest terms. But suppressing academic freedom while harboring white nationalist sympathizers exposes the Administration's contradictory and hypocritical approach to addressing discrimination and protecting civil liberties.

Cutting Science at the Knees

What began as a Silicon Valley mantra – “move fast and break things” – has been embraced by this Administration as its governing philosophy. The problem? Government is not a start-up; it is the infrastructure that binds society together. It is being dismantled in the name of speed, spite, and spectacle.

The U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) terminated nearly 800 research projects with lightning speed, reclaiming more than $2.3 billion allocated to researchers. This could mean potential cancer treatments, rare disease therapies, and mental health innovations – all gone.

Dr. Peter Hotez, from the Baylor College of Medicine, warned, “Anti-science has become a dangerous social force that threatens both our national security and global stature as a nation renowned for its research institutions and universities.” NYU Bioethicist Dr. Arthur Caplan put it more bluntly: “Trump's anti-science, dangerous HHS head and their oddball gang of misinformers are now firmly in charge of federal biomedical policy.”

Those concerns deepened this month when Dr. Peter Marks, the highly respected head of the FDA's vaccine division, was forced to resign. Vaccine expert Dr. Paul Offit at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia put it bluntly: “RFK Jr. is now the wolf guarding the hen house.”

Healthcare isn’t the only scientific discipline on the irrational chopping block. The Trump Administration has proposed significant budget cuts to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), including plans to eliminate its climate research division, the Office of Oceanic and Atmospheric Research, and several other NOAA offices. These cuts could devastate weather and climate research, potentially crippling industries like agriculture that rely on accurate weather and climate data. The reductions may also hinder research on severe weather events that affect virtually everyone, such as storms and tornadoes.

All of this uncertainty, combined with the hostility toward science and higher education, could have a generational impact on U.S. research and competitiveness: more than 75% of respondents to an informal Nature poll of readers who are scientists said that they were considering leaving the country.

We’re witnesses to the dismantling of the innovation engines that have powered American progress for more than a century.

Due Process, Discarded

The Department of Homeland Security proposed new rules allowing expedited deportations without a court hearing for certain noncitizens. According to the Migration Policy Institute, similar fast-track removal programs in the past have raised serious due process concerns, particularly regarding access to legal representation and the risk of wrongful deportations.

The dangers are not theoretical. A federal judge in Maryland issued strong reprimands to the Trump Administration for failing to comply with a Supreme Court order requiring the release of Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia, who had been wrongfully deported to a notorious supermax prison in El Salvador. “To date nothing has been done,” said Judge Paula Xinis. “Nothing.” 

Garcia, who has no criminal record, entered the U.S. illegally; however, in 2019, an immigration judge granted him “withholding of removal” to El Salvador due to his “well-founded fear of future persecution” from a violent gang known as Barrio 18. 

Now Trump is floating the idea of sending “homegrown criminals” – U.S. citizens – to the same prison.

Rolling Out the Propaganda Welcome Mat

Also this month, Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced the closure of the office that tracks disinformation from China, Russia, Iran, and other foreign actors. This office had been monitoring disinformation campaigns by rival powers and terrorist groups while also publishing relevant reports. James P. Rubin, a former State Department official who led the precursor to the office during the Biden administration, stated, “This amounts to a form of unilateral disarmament in the information warfare Russia and China are conducting all over the world.”

The Trump Administration has also dismantled efforts to monitor U.S. elections for foreign interference. The New York Times reported, “Those employees tried to combat false content online and worked on broader safeguards to protect elections from cyberattacks or other attempts to disrupt voting systems.”

We are blinding ourselves as our adversaries continue to become much more aggressive in spreading disinformation, creating division, and inciting violent acts. 

A Trade War on Ourselves

Then came the tariffs.

Trump reimposed a 10 percent baseline tariff on nearly all imported goods this month, marking one of the most sweeping trade policy shifts in modern U.S. history. Select countries, particularly China, were hit with much steeper penalties, with total tariffs on Chinese imports reaching as high as 145 percent. Mexico and the European Union faced additional levies ranging from 20 to 25 percent.

Is this to rebalance trade? Reshore manufacturing? Let’s be clear: there is no endgame. The world is left to guess. Nobel Prize-winning economist Paul Krugman said, “Uncertainty created by ever-changing tariff plans is arguably a bigger problem than the tariffs themselves."

But Trump boasted, “These countries are calling us up, kissing my ass” to negotiate deals. “We need to teach these countries a lesson – they’ve been laughing at us for years,” he said. 

The markets showed no signs of laughter. The Dow plunged by more than 4,000 points in just two days. 

Financial titans are no longer able to stay quiet. Jamie Dimon, CEO of JPMorgan Chase, said in his annual shareholder letter, "Trump's tariffs will likely increase inflation and are causing many to consider a greater probability of a recession.” Larry Fink, CEO of BlackRock, stated: "Most business leaders from our portfolio companies say we are probably in a recession right now." And Ken Fisher, Chairman of Fisher Investments, criticized the tariffs as: "Stupid, wrong, arrogantly extreme."

So... Where’s the Joke?

These aren’t mistakes; they’re not even misguided policies. They are intentional. In many cases, the Administration and millions of supporters and enablers take pride in that.

What’s chilling is not only the content of the decisions; it’s the logic (or lack thereof) behind them: reverse what my predecessor did, punish ideological opponents, and provoke simply for provocation’s sake.

The cruelty isn’t a byproduct. It’s the point.

A Call to Sanity and Humanity

April was once a time for pranks, laughter, joy, curiosity, and creativity. But here’s the thing: it’s still possible to reclaim that spirit. We can resist the normalization of chaos and reject leaders who govern through vendetta. 

We can demand compassion in immigration policy, invest in education, showcase scientific evidence, and demonstrate humility in power.

Let’s revive the best parts of ourselves and our institutions. Let us be a nation where absurdity is confined to comedy, not policy.

Let’s stop the fools of April from writing our future.

Craving Reliability in an Unreliable World

There was a time when life had a rhythm and a structure that provided a sense of stability. New automobile models from major manufacturers debuted in the fall, coinciding with the fresh lineup of television shows for the next year. Political campaigns had defined seasons, unlike the perpetual, endless cycles we see today. People consumed news in predictable doses – morning or evening newspapers and the 6 o’clock broadcast. Then came 1980, along with CNN’s 24-hour news cycle. 

I like a fast pace. I like action. But over the past few decades, the world has been accelerating toward a state of constant stimulation, creating a culture of immediacy, anxiety, and FOMO (fear of missing out).

The erosion of reliability and dependability – qualities that once defined institutions, businesses, and even personal relationships – has led to a more volatile society. When everything is in flux, from how we consume news to how governments operate, uncertainty becomes the norm. The modern political climate, typified by Mark Zuckerberg’s ethos of a “move fast and break things” mentality, exacerbates this instability, making it difficult to trust that the systems designed to serve us will endure.

The Cost of Constant Change

At the heart of reliability is consistency. Toyota outpaced U.S. stalwarts not merely by selling cars but by building its reputation on reliability. McDonald’s expanded nationwide and globally because customers always knew what to expect – a dependable product that felt familiar. Similarly, FedEx built an empire on the promise of guaranteed delivery times, reinforcing the idea that businesses thrive when they prioritize reliability over disruption.

Contrast this with today’s landscape: streaming services release entire seasons at once, disrupting the traditional weekly anticipation of new episodes. The news cycle refreshes every second, rendering yesterday’s headlines irrelevant before they can be fully processed. In politics, policies and positions can shift overnight, with leaders reversing their stances as quickly as a spreading rumor or a social media trend. This constant churn creates instability and fosters a culture where nothing feels secure.

However, this doesn't mean that change is inherently negative. Adaptation is essential for growth, and businesses, governments, and individuals must evolve in response to new realities. The key lies in understanding when and how to change in a way that preserves trust and stability. JCPenney serves as a cautionary example of how abrupt, poorly executed changes can backfire. In 2011, CEO Ron Johnson aimed to revitalize the department store by eliminating sales and discounts in favor of everyday low prices. Although his intention was to modernize the brand, the drastic shift alienated loyal customers who were accustomed to bargain hunting. The outcome was a significant decline in sales and consumer trust. This example demonstrates that while change is often necessary, it must be managed carefully to ensure it aligns with customer expectations and core brand values.

The Psychological Toll of Instability

Stability is not merely a luxury; it is essential for mental well-being. When individuals know they can depend on certain structures, it eases stress and anxiety. Now, work emails arrive at all hours, and the expectation for immediate responses intensifies burnout. The line between personal and professional life has become blurred, making it difficult to truly disconnect.

In the political arena, the unpredictability of governance has heightened public anxiety. Legislative norms that once ensured steady, incremental change have been abandoned in favor of radical shifts. The chaotic management of Twitter (now X) following Elon Musk’s acquisition illustrates the dangers of impulsive, reactionary decision-making. Abrupt mass layoffs, policy reversals, and inconsistent enforcement of rules have created an unstable platform where neither users nor advertisers know what to expect. Similarly, the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), influenced by Musk, has eliminated government jobs without a clear long-term strategy, leading to service disruptions in crucial areas such as veterans’ affairs and nuclear security. This instability erodes public trust and intensifies societal stress.

The recent trend of dismantling policies without clear replacement strategies – whether in healthcare, environmental protections, or economic regulations – erodes confidence in institutions. People question whether today’s rules will still apply tomorrow, making long-term planning nearly impossible. The whipsaw of on-again, off-again tariffs, for example, has thrown the global economy into turmoil.

The Importance of Dependability in Leadership and Institutions

Strong societies rely on dependable leadership. The most outstanding leaders – from Franklin D. Roosevelt to Angela Merkel—are remembered not for their flashiness but for their steady hands during turbulent times. Their decisions instilled confidence because they were predictable and rooted in principles rather than short-term expediency.

An article titled “The Surprising Trait Google Looks For To Identify Potential Leaders” by Walter Chen emphasizes a similar principle in business. Chen states, “At Google, they're obsessive about looking at data to determine what makes employees successful, and what they found in the numbers was surprising. The most important character trait of a leader is one that you're more likely to associate with a dull person than a dynamic leader: predictability. The more predictable you are, day after day, the better.” Leaders who are erratic or reactionary create uncertainty, which ultimately undermines efficiency and morale.

In business, companies that uphold their commitment to quality and service withstand the test of time. Apple’s focus on long-term reliability in its products has cultivated a loyal customer base. Their ecosystem strategy ensures that devices work together seamlessly, reinforcing consumer trust.

Reclaiming Reliability in an Unstable World

To counter the chaos, we must collectively re-emphasize the importance of dependability. Businesses should prioritize consistent service, and governments should support measured, sustainable reforms instead of reactionary changes. Individuals can foster reliability in their lives by following through on their commitments, maintaining integrity, and building trust within their communities.

The world may never return to the slower pace of the past, but that doesn’t mean we have to accept unpredictability as the new standard. Stability is not a relic; it’s a choice. In an era marked by constant disruption, the ability to offer reliability and dependability is more valuable than ever.

Running Government Like a Business? Think Again.

Hearing corporate leaders say, “The government should operate like a business," isn’t new, but the slogan has gained new significance with Elon Musk and Donald Trump promoting aggressive reforms. Now, Silicon Valley’s "move fast and break things" mentality has taken hold. While these statements may resonate with those frustrated by bureaucratic inefficiencies, enacting such approaches can lead to significant challenges and serious unintended consequences.

The Pitfalls of "Move Fast and Break Things"

Using the blunt instrument of mass terminations and freezing previously approved funding suggests that rapidly dismantling existing structures and addressing issues as they arise is an effective strategy. We’re being told that embracing a "fail fast" mentality – where rapid iteration and acceptance of failure contribute to innovation – is the solution to fixing a bloated government. However, this approach can lead to chaos and instability, particularly within complex systems like government. Interruptions in government services and commitments can cause widespread and severe hardships, affecting millions of lives and national stability. 

Musk, appointed (not vetted or confirmed) to lead the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), has launched swift and widespread cuts to the federal workforce. (Fearing a legal battle over challenges to Musk’s authority, on Feb. 18, White House official Joshua Fisher stated, “Mr. Musk is not the U.S. DOGE Service Administrator.”) In a recent press conference, Musk described federal employees as an "unelected" branch of government and defended DOGE's secretive operations. These actions have led to the termination of nearly 85,000 government workers – about 3% of America's 2.3 million civil servants – crippling essential services like veterans affairs, nuclear security, and tax administration. Critics argue that these cuts vilify dedicated civil servants and undermine the government’s ability to fund essential services, support public health, and fund vital research.

The aggressive downsizing has elevated national security risks. Musk’s influence now extends to critical government IT infrastructures managed by a wide range of government departments, raising concerns about the integrity and security of federal systems. Despite court orders and numerous warnings about insider threats posed by Musk’s appointees, enforcement remains uncertain, leaving essential government functions vulnerable.

Why the Government Shouldn't Run Like a Business

The idea that the government should function like a business is a common refrain among some business leaders. However, this viewpoint overlooks essential differences between public governance and private enterprise.

In his book Time to Get Tough, Donald Trump asserts that business experience can translate into governmental success, suggesting that corporate strategies can effectively address governmental challenges.

However, governments are designed to serve the public interest. They address issues that are not always profitable but are essential for societal well-being, such as public safety, education, and infrastructure. Applying business principles focused on profit and efficiency can undermine these essential services.

Furthermore, businesses operate under different accountability structures. While a company answers to its shareholders, a government is accountable to its citizens, requiring transparency, equity, and adherence to democratic processes. DOGE's sweeping budget cuts and agency closures have already sparked legal battles, with opponents arguing that such actions bypass congressional oversight and erode democratic checks and balances.

The Founding Fathers warned against rash governmental overhauls. James Madison, in The Federalist Papers, cautioned: "The instability, injustice, and confusion introduced into the public councils have, in truth, been the mortal diseases under which popular governments have everywhere perished." Madison argued that a well-functioning government requires careful deliberation rather than reckless disruption.

When one of his rockets blows up, Musk refers to it as a “rapid unscheduled disassembly.” We’re witnessing the government being blown apart and disassembled right now, right before our eyes, to the dismay of millions of Americans and to the delight of our adversaries.

Presidential Humor: 2024 Edition

Next to power without honor, the most dangerous thing in the world is power without humor. – Eric Sevareid

The only thing I found humorous about a recent NYT opinion piece called Trump Is Losing the Humor War was the title. OK, it’s more ironic than funny because the whole thing implied that Trump was winning the humor war at some point.

The author, Professor Leif Weatherby at NYU, wrote, “Over the past decade, there’s one truth that liberals have been loath to admit: Donald Trump is funny. …when you watch him at a rally, you can see he’s playing for laughs: jabbing at his opponents[…].”

Here’s the problem: playing for laughs does not always equate to being funny. Being funny is to amuse, to be comical. Hurling insults, making sarcastic comments, or mocking others are not humorous. They’re, well, insulting, sarcastic, and mocking; all of it is at the expense of others. Trump might be “playing for laughs,” but it is not through humor. 

Also problematic is the professor’s critique of the other side of the political spectrum. “The Democrats have been many things over the last few decades, but funny has rarely been one of them,” he said.

That right there is funny. In my 2011 book Camelot, Inc., I remarked that Democrats had humor pretty well sewn up. Look at the vast majority of stand-up comics and the long-standing successes of figures like John Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Republicans, on the other hand, are masters of fear and anger. 

I agree with Professor Weatherby’s statement that “There’s something interesting about humor: We don’t get to choose what’s funny.” In a 2016 article, I wrote, “Be careful with humor in serious times. What’s funny to you may not be funny to someone else. It comes down to knowing your audience and having some compassion.” Compassion, like humor, is not one of 45’s strong suits.

Dr. Weatherby spoke about acknowledging the “truth.” But the truth is subjective. My truth about what’s funny, artistic, or cool will be the same for some and different for others. Facts and data, however, are not. Trump advisor Kellyanne Conway blew many minds when she said White House press secretary Sean Spicer “gave alternative facts” about the inauguration crowd size during a 2017 interview on Meet the Press. Host Chuck Todd responded, “Alternative facts are not facts; they’re falsehoods.” 

Will jokes or the manifestations of humor – Harris’ belly laugh or Trump’s happy dance – change any votes? Probably few, if any. Humor is a component of who we are; it’s one pixel in a complex picture. But there’s no doubt it’s essential. Michael J. Fox said, “I think the scariest person in the world is the person with no sense of humor,” and Robert Frost noted, “If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.”

What Pfizer’s Super Bowl Ad Should Have Been

There’s been a lot of discussion around Pfizer’s decision to spend an estimated $14–21 million on its “Here’s to Science” Super Bowl ad. I’d like to boil it down to two questions: Why did they do it? Did it accomplish their objective?

For the question of ‘why,’ STAT News reported, “The ad comes as the pharmaceutical company celebrates its 175th anniversary and looks to promote a dynamic, optimistic message about Pfizer’s future to the general public, investors, and the company’s own employees.”

Pfizer spokesperson Faith Salamon said the goal was to “celebrate science in a fun, engaging and uplifting way.”

Unfortunately, The New York Times didn’t buy it. In their review of Super Bowl ads, the NYT placed Pfizer in the category entitled, “The Flagrant Missteps: Famous people and millions of dollars that together can’t quite amount to mediocrity.”

Flagrant sounds too intentional. This is a case of missed opportunity (except for the soundtrack — who doesn’t love Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”?).

I had an array of reactions, but these were the key moments:

Most horrifying: A corpse comes alive, with his arm dissected from shoulder to fingertips — depicted in Rembrandt’s The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp — looking like he wants to get off the table.

Most confusing: The inclusion of a tartigrade (“little water bear,” an eight-legged creature about one millimeter long) swimming across the screen.

Most inspiring: The positive message sent by highlighting four women scientists, one of color.

Most overreaching: It seems the ad makers knew most of the public couldn’t differentiate between famous scientists or science disciplines, so they threw some recognizable names out there. The relevance was questionable since half of the science luminaries depicted were mathematicians and physicists, yet Pfizer is a healthcare company.

Most jarring: The words “Here’s to the next fight” come across the screen but don’t connect to anything seen previously. The next words are “LetsOutdoCancer.com” followed by some video of a little girl being applauded for what must have been successfully completing treatment. (A lovely moment, to be sure.)

The Let’s Outdo Cancer website details Pfizer’s research pipeline and product portfolio. There’s also important information on how to participate in a cancer clinical trial and a partnership with the American Cancer Society to “improve health outcomes in medically underrepresented communities across the United States.”

There is no doubt that we’re benefiting from the discoveries made by Pfizer and their partners. We’re living better, healthier lives. There’s a ton of good information on the site but it doesn’t have much to do with “Here’s to Science.”

A one-off effort like a Super Bowl ad can help achieve specific objectives but, in my experience, plans need follow-through and messages require repetition. I don’t know their actual plan, of course. I’m not an insider. But if Pfizer seeks to promote a positive message and increase engagement with stakeholders, I have a suggestion. They have an enormous opportunity to create a more receptive public if they work towards increasing trust in science.

Engaging a wide array of audiences on the value of science is critically important to elevate trust. Dr. Marijn Dekkers, former CEO of Bayer and former Chairman of Unilever, pointed out at a financial conference several years back that “even the most outstanding ideas and scientific breakthroughs have no chance if people do not accept, appreciate and support them. All too often, people are afraid of — or uneasy about — new ideas, inventions, processes or products.”

The public acceptance of innovation is clearly at risk according to the 2024 Edelman Trust Barometer, an annual trust and credibility survey. It found that respondents believe innovation is poorly managed by nearly a two-to-one margin. And while technology as a whole is trusted by 76 percent, gene-based medicine is only at 50 percent. (It gets worse. GMO foods are trusted only by 32 percent.)

The issue goes far beyond industry interests. Poor science literacy can eat at the core of our democracy. Professor Jon D. Miller, now at the University of Michigan, warned us nearly 20 years ago that “people’s inability to understand basic scientific concepts undermines their ability to take part in the democratic process.” He continued that for many issues affecting society, “if you don’t know a little science [it’s] hard to follow these debates. A lot of journalism [will] not make sense to you.”

So, here we are. The current state is that science and scientists are under attack. Facts are being denied and misinformation proliferates. Critical thinking is being abandoned. Education is underfunded. Science is politicized and weaponized. It must stop.

It’s not a problem that can be addressed by a one-year budget cycle or even a five or ten-year plan. It will take a generational blueprint that needs to be comprehensive, coordinated, and well capitalized to see a return on the investment.

Getting the message out is only one side of the coin, though. Ensuring the message is received requires the same sort of effort. The Super Bowl ad should have been the kick-off of an ongoing effort to engage, inform, and educate the public about science and scientific principles. But it’s not too late. We need conveners. Partners need to be assembled and resources gathered. Objectives must be determined and milestones assigned.

Let’s get started.

Between posts I invite you to follow me on Threads @pauloestreicher.

Incremental Is Fundamental

Many of us are in occupations where innovation and creativity are essential. But an unnecessary divide exists between the valuation of sweeping changes and incremental advances. We should not need to choose – this isn’t a case of mutual exclusivity. Of course, we need big ideas and bold moves. Sure, throw the bomb for a touchdown, swing for the fences. But small things, measured steps, can be important and inventive, too. The Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” 

Upsides to any method or process cannot be guaranteed, of course. It’s important to acknowledge that incrementalism can fail us or derail us, just as big ideas can. One of the most notable (and shameful) examples is the nearly hundred-year span from the signing of the Declaration of Independence to the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution (and then another hundred to the 1964 Civil Rights Act). And while Lincoln deserves high praise for his role, we need to remember it took him a couple of decades to fully embrace freedom and citizenship for Black people. 

Fortunately, his vast and open mind let in powerful, righteous voices like Frederick Douglass, the freedom seeker who became one of the most important leaders in the fight for abolition and civil rights. It’s notable that Douglass wanted rapid change with the “brave march of a storming party” but came to grips with the “slow progress of a cautious siege.” He and Lincoln understood the political realities. The President knew he had to bring as much of the nation along with them as he could – what he called the “necessary preparation of the public mind.” 

Modern political leaders seem to be catching on to incrementalism but for the wrong reasons. While they often campaign on platforms of big ideas, political rivalries, limited resources, and the complexity of most problems squeeze progress into watered-down initiatives. Or, more common these days, an agreement to simply keep the lights on; passing a stop-gap budget is now viewed as a big win. Reaching across the aisle, finding common ground, and coming to a mutually beneficial agreement have become rarities or even signs of weakness.

Politicians are also helping to accelerate our ever-shrinking attention spans. Ideas are being crushed into attention-seeking social media posts. There is a lack of interest, will, or ability to explain complex ideas and to inspire wider acceptance. Ideologic pandering is replacing idea generation. If it can’t be turned into a catch phrase (“America First”) or a chant (“Build the Wall”), complicated, multidimensional ideas have little chance of being turned into a plan or program.

Preparation requires good communication, using messages that combine both rational and emotional elements. There are too many leaders, though, who get it terribly wrong. Deciding to make a change is often done without thought as to how the change will be communicated. They confuse change communication with checking off a couple of boxes. Sending out a memo to employees or a press release to the public overlooks the reality that change communication is a process – a process to be managed. 

The details, the message, and the messenger all influence the individual and the organization. It can rally a group around an idea or it can alienate the very people required to generate a successful outcome. John Kotter had it right in his book, “Leading Change.” Condensing and paraphrasing some of his eight incremental steps, leaders need to establish the need for change, gather and empower advocates, articulate a vision for what awaits, communicate up and down the organization, define the roles people will have and the processes needed for future success, and demonstrate wins along the way.

It’s great to have big ideas, it's OK to be impatient, we should embrace change. At the same time, we need to be thinking strategically and develop a plan about what needs to be accomplished, over what timeline, and with what resources. We need to define the milestones and recognize each accomplishment as we maintain a focus on the ultimate goal. Civil rights activist Alice Wine had wise words: “Keep your eyes on the prize.”

Between posts I invite you to follow me on Threads @pauloestreicher.

Stopping Ourselves from Mattering Less

Oh boy, was I wrong. “Who needs these humanities requirements?” I asked as a college student. I was going to be a scientist and wanted to place my attention on (what I thought was) my ultimate goal. 

Sure, I learned to appreciate the genius of Shakespeare and enjoyed the scrum in my political science classes. But I loaded up on the hard not the social sciences. I bought the promise that technology had the answers to everything. One couldn’t be a whole person without a rock solid background in math, chemistry, physics, biology.

Whole person, huh? I said I was wrong, right? I’m not sure I can say it enough. I’ve come to hate mutual exclusivity and false equivalencies and yet, there I was. It took me years to figure out (with no small contribution from my wife) that interesting people, valuable people, are a package. We should have an appreciation – a facility, even – with a multitude of subjects spanning STEM subjects to the liberal arts.

We need to know enough about both the humanities and science to be capable citizens. With the politicization of so many topics – vaccines, evolution, climate change, stem cells – a more roundly educated public is essential. 

We need to expect and demand more of our leaders, too. I wonder how many of them read books like David McCullough’s 1776 or John Adams that chronicled how the founding fathers built a nation on progressive values; Peter Watson’s Ideas with two million years worth of language, thought, and invention; Constantine’s Sword by James Carroll on the evolution of faith and systematized prejudice; Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time to make your head ache when contemplating the enormity of our universe, or Abe by David Reynolds to show us how personal evolution and compromise gave rise to one of our greatest presidents.

Social media and cable news echo chambers have made it all too easy to receive what the algorithms are trained to feed us. We suffer from inertia, from a lack of curiosity, from what used to be the common practice of debating the issues (and not the facts). If the facts don’t fit the person’s worldview or “frame,” as the cognitive linguist George Lakoff termed it, the facts bounce off like bullets shot at Superman’s chest. Your opponent deflects all the data, swears on what they believe to be true, while you get blue in the face.

But now comes the latest assault on holistic education. The New York Times recently reported that West Virginia’s “flagship school will no longer teach world languages or creative writing — a sign, its president says, of the future at many public universities.” What the WVU administration is calling a “transformation,” others are calling a “blood bath.” It’s frightening to think this could be the beginning of a very dangerous spiral.

The questions of how to educate, what to teach, and with what money are not new. But this is different. We’re looking at institutional changes that could take years, generations to repair. If we’re not careful, if we don’t invest in expansive, accessible education, we will be less able to govern, less capable of informed, civil discourse, and less capable of maintaining our competitiveness on the world stage. The hollowing out of education, and the under-budgeting and the reversal of opportunity are as grave a threat as any facing our country.

Author of Camelot, Inc.: Leadership and Management Insights from King Arthur and the Round Table.

Between posts, I invite you to follow me on Threads.

Aaron Sorkin and I Have an Understanding

My eyes widened when I read the review in The New York Times. I was on the same page as Aaron Sorkin, writer of some of the most celebrated works of television, film, and Broadway. Well, the “same page” when it came to understanding what was really beneath the centuries old story of King Arthur and Camelot. 

A new version of “Camelot” is scheduled to open on Broadway in a few weeks, with its book rewritten by Sorkin. The NYT article said, Sorkin “has made the production one of the most anticipated on Broadway this year...”

A bold decision was made to eliminate the story’s supernatural elements. “That means Merlyn, who in the original is a magician who can remember the future... is now a wise tutor.” Yes! The hocus pocus in the Arthur stories is fun but there are much more serious and contemporary lessons to be drawn from Camelot.

“The most common description of Merlin is that of an elderly wizard with a long white beard, wearing a pointed hat and a flowing costume accented by stars and moons. He’s synonymous with magic and sorcery. But Merlin’s significance was not his ability to conjure or foretell the future. Above all else, this archetypal sorcerer was a mentor and adviser.” That was from my 2011 book, Camelot, Inc.: Leadership and Management Insights from King Arthur and the Round Table.

Merlin’s real mission was to educate Arthur, to expand his horizons, and prepare him for the challenges ahead. In T.H. White’s The Once and Future King (from which the play and Disney’s Sword in the Stone were derived), a young Arthur queried, “Would you mind if I asked you a question?” Merlin replied, “It is what I am for.” 

The magical part of Merlin wasn’t all fantasy writing, though. It helped tell the story of Arthur’s evolution from roughhousing boy to empathic leader. As a wizard, Merlin didn’t need to bring Arthur to other parts of the world to experience the different religions, cultures, and customs of humankind. Merlin turned him into a badger, fish, hawk, goose, and ant – creatures very different, more ancient, and with much wisdom to impart on the youngster.

The transfigurations into fur, fin, and feather (and bug) were a big part of the Merlin’s mentoring technique, which turned the learning process into adventures. Arthur was immersed in some dangerous places where he had to observe, adapt, and think quickly in his new surroundings. His abilities to react swiftly and smartly weren’t only important; they were essential. Later, as king, Arthur would leverage these experiences not only to better understand and connect with others, but also to win over doubters and adversaries.

Of course, much of the Camelot story revolves around the tortured relationships between King Arthur, Guinevere, his Queen, and Sir Lancelot, his best friend and general. “People think the show is about a love triangle, which of course it is,” said Alan Paul, artistic director of Barrington Stage Company. “But I really think it’s about the birth of democracy…”

Close, but not exactly. First, democracy was created in ancient Athens and second, Arthur wasn’t at all about abdicating in favor of elections. Arthur did, however, form a strategy of Might for Right – a way to channel the power of the knights to enforce his doctrine of fairness. But the people did not react well to what was coercion. 

“You will find,” he explained (in The Once and Future King), “that when the kings are bullies who believe in force, the people are bullies too. If I don’t stand for law, I won’t have law among my people. And naturally I want my people to have the new law, because then they are more prosperous, and I am more prosperous in consequence.”

Arthur did something we don’t see often enough in leaders today. He took ownership and had the courage to jump the rails when he saw the strategy failing. Arthur had the right intention with the wrong method. He realized the populace needed to embrace change, rather than have change forced upon them without proper communication. He evolved Might for Right into Equal Justice – the creation of a new civil code to change the very nature of civilization, and the relationship between the government and the governed.

Life’s lessons during the time of Camelot and the Round Table remain relevant because, at the core, they are about the human relationships that connect us, divide us, and drive us forward (or backward) in our various dealings – personal, business, or otherwise. Looking at the past, we can gain the accumulated wisdom from so many people, conflicts, and circumstances. The enduring qualities and complexities of human nature gave us guidance and assurance in the past and will continue to do so in the future.

The 4 R’s of Strategic Thinking

Thinking, like many other activities, occurs across a spectrum. We can think in ways that are concrete and narrow or we can be creative and visionary. There’s a lot in between, of course (and I’ve covered that in other articles). 

There’s another continuum, though: Time. Sure, there are plenty of occasions when you want things to speed up (like when you’re crawling along in a sea of traffic or sitting with your mouth open in a dentist’s chair) but we mostly wish for more time. 

Having, finding time is often the key to so many things and strategic thinking is among them. Dorie Clark wrote “If Strategy Is So Important, Why Don’t We Make Time for It?” in a recently reposted Harvard Business Review article. She cited a survey where 97 percent of senior leaders said, “…being strategic was the leadership behavior most important to their organization’s success.” Unfortunately, another study found “96 percent of the leaders surveyed said they lacked the time for strategic thinking.”

We should care that people don’t spend enough time thinking. We tend to focus on the actions, the tactics, before thinking about the strategies and objectives they’re supposed to support. What passes for thinking is often unfocused busywork, a churning of un-prioritized activities.

Former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair spoke of one of the best pieces of advice he ever received about strategic thinking at a Stanford Graduate School of Business seminar several years back; it was from former President Bill Clinton. The president gave him one word: Scheduling. Mr. Blair channeled the guidance he received and remarked, “Where’s your thinking time? Where am I going? What am I trying to do? You have to create the space to be thinking strategically all the time.” 

Strategic thinkers ask questions and gain insight through rigorous analysis of information. They look around the corners, predicting outcomes and the potential unintended consequences of a particular course of action. They prepare scenarios, from those with high probability but little impact to those with low probability but a high potential for damage. They evaluate who might be an advocate and who could be an adversary. They make conscious, timely decisions about where to play offense and where to allow things to go undefended.

Carving out the space – the time – to think strategically takes effort; it’s much too precious to waste. That’s why we need a way to optimize, to guide and focus the strategic thinking process. Here are my 4 R’s of Strategic Thinking for your consideration:

1.     Risk – potential impact of doing, not doing

2.     Range – short, medium, long term issues and influences

3.     Requirements – data, time, money, personnel

4.     Return on investment – financial, reputation, safety/security

In fast-paced environments, we’re often driven more by deadlines than the importance of the task or issue. Using the 4 R’s, we can make more informed decisions and apply resources more effectively. So let’s not be too put-off by a little process; it’s not a dirty word. Discipline is needed in finding creative solutions to our challenges and opportunities.

But perspective and flexibility are crucial to finding success with this or any other methodology. The weight placed on any of these components may depend on where you are in the organization, your responsibilities and their scope, and what you have to lose or gain. 

Remember what George Bernard Shaw said: “Few people think more than two or three times a year; I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week.” With some dedicated time and thought, you have an opportunity to join ranks with the greats.

Between blog posts, I invite you to follow me @pauloestreicher.