Another Take on Leaders and Managers

Tara Burton wonders why American universities are obsessed with leadership.

Hugh Nibley, of course, had a classic essay on leaders and managers. Nibley was both a leader, in his own way, and a lone wolf (to use Burton's terms). Leaders do not necessarily have to be cookie-cutter.

Today's Maxwell Quote

From A More Excellent Way (1967), 108:

Lazy leaders will find it easy to rationalize too many times the possible gains in group effectiveness to be achieved by deliberate involvement.

The assertion that directive action by the leader saves time is not always borne out by the facts, especially when continuing compliance in spiritual things almost always involves building a commitment which will stand up under the pressure of time and circumstance.

Illustrations of Leadership V

Today's tip:

Be organized. Time spent preparing . . . will be repaid many times over.

Most ancient Near Eastern creation accounts have the world coming from swirling chaos. That chaos can be productive, but it first must be organized.

The Egyptian pyramids were the product of intense organization. The pyramid of Cheops, for example, is said to have needed a 2.5 ton stone placed every two or three minutes over the entire reign of the king. Each stone required the coordinated effort of hundreds of people. It was certainly doable (after all, it was done), but the genius of the Old Kingdom was in organizing the labor to complete the structure. Labor had to be requisitioned, transported, coordinated, fed, and supplied. It seems significant that most of the papyrus documents that have survived from the Old Kingdom are work rosters, the plans for organizing that labor, and many of the royal decrees that have survived deal with such organization.

Above all, those doing the organization had to not only have it clear in their own minds what they wanted done but how to do it. How to do it included knowing what was involved in the various steps. Imagine if Senefru had decided that he wanted to build a better pyramid than the Step Pyramid, and fired all those who had been involved in the Step Pyramid and replaced them with a bunch of bureaucrats who had never built anything before. He probably would not have been able to build his own pyramid, much less the four he did build.

The Step Pyramid of Djoser at Saqqara

Illustrations of Leadership IV

Today's point is:

Be flexible. Meetings, . . . and other . . . events will not always go as planned.

Ramses II found this out when he went to Qadesh. Having been lied to by Hittite spies, he expected the Hittites to be far away. Instead, they were hiding behind Qadesh. The Egyptians were expecting a standard night's camp in a peaceful setting. What they got was an ambush. Ramses and the Egyptians were saved by being flexible and by the timely arrival of reinforcements.

Illustrations of Leadership III

The third leadership tip is:

Communicate. A good leader knows how to get and give information so that everyone understands.

A good example of what happens with failure to communicate comes from the end of Eighteenth Dynasty in Egypt. When Nipkhururiya (Tutankhamun) died, his wife sent to the Hittite king Shuppiluliuma asking for him to send one of his sons to Egypt to marry the queen and become king of Egypt. Shuppiluliuma delayed while he assessed the truth of the information he had received. Only after another request did he send his son to Egypt. In the meantime, the Egyptian general Aye staged a coup and took over the country. He also had no scruple about dispatching the Hittite prince dispatched to rule Egypt. The Egyptians sent a message back to the Hittite king saying simply "Your son died," covering up the coup's complicity in his death. By this, the Egyptians and Hittites, who had largely been at peace, became enemies for three generations. The general Aye, however, did not long enjoy the fruits of his duplicity being supplanted by the next general to come along, namely Horemheb.

In this case, the failure to communicate that the situation had changed was impeded by the length of time that it took for messages to get from one capital to another. It was hardly helped by the Egyptians sending misinformation back to the Hittites.

Illustrations of Leadership II

The second leadership tip is:

Be fair to all. A good leader shows no favorites.

Both positive and negative examples of this tip come from the reign of Xuanzong (玄宗) of the Tang dynasty (AD 712-756). The first part of his reign, Xuanzong avoided favoritism by keeping the eunuchs and consort families out of politics. He also enforced economy on the court. The Tang dynasty reached its pinnacle. About the time that he turned sixty, however, after his first wife died, he became enamored of one of his son's wives, Yang Guifei, and took her as a mistress. Economy went out the window, and her favoritism of a general, An Lushan (who was rumored to also be her lover) caused disastrous results. An Lushan used his position to amass power and try to usurp the throne (he did proclaim himself emperor). Xuanzong was forced to abdicate. The resultant wars, which lasted after Xuanzong's death, devastated China. The population fell from 53 million before the war to 17 million a decade later after its conclusion. The Tang dynasty never quite recovered in the century and a half that it lasted. So in a way, Xuanzong's favoritism was the Tang dynasty's swan song.

Leaders to Managers Viking Style

[One of my more popular posts has some comments on Hugh Nibley’s essay on leaders and managers. Recently Jón Viðar Sigurðsson published an interesting essay called “Kings, Earls and Cheiftains. Rulers of Norway, Orkney and Iceland c. 900-1300,” in Ideology and Power in the Viking and Middle Ages (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 69-108. I found much in Sigurðsson’s essay that fit well with the ideas that Nibley put forward and that interact with some scriptural passages. Page numbers after quotations refer to Sigurðsson’s article unless otherwise specified.]

Anyone who has read the Old Norse sagas will often discover what appears to be a rough and tumble lawless society that seems to be a sort of paradise of libertarian anarchy. Many of the sagas are set at the very beginning of the settlement of Iceland when there were few people who often took the law into their own hands out of necessity. Nevertheless there was a sense of civilization and rules to follow. More importantly, and this is clear from the sagas, there were leaders to follow. In Norway there were kings to follow. In fact, the sagas, such as Laxdæla Saga connect the establishment of a kingdom in Norway with the settlement of Iceland as many of the settlers were finding refuge from their expulsion from Norway. The Norwegian kings are always in the background of the sagas, even those taking place in Iceland, and their reigns serve as a chronological peg for the sagas (83-84). While the Vikings in Iceland did not have kings, they did have chieftains (goði).

When comparing the description of earls and chieftains with that of kings one clear difference emerges: the kings, who were at the top of the social hierarchy in the Old Norse society, do not only appear with a greater number of personal qualities than other secular leaders, but their qualities are also usually better than those of other rulers and depicted in greater detail. Kings are taller and stronger, more beautiful, wiser, more just, more generous and more victorious than other rulers (72-73).

Not only do the kings usually have twice the number of qualities, but the type of qualities are different:

In descriptions of the earls of Orkney and the kings of Norway, especially of the kings in the tenth and eleventh centuries, their ware skills are usually stressed. This is in clear contrast to the descriptions of the Icelandic chieftains. Their ability to fight in battles and to lead men in war is almost never mentioned. (74).

In both societies, leaders kept retainers, but this was short lived:

At the end of the Viking Age, only kings and princes could afford to keep a band of retainers. (74).

The term for retainer (húskarl) was originally a household term, they developed from the domestic sphere and were imported into the military and royal sphere.

Like the relationship between the owner of the farm and his servant, the bond between the king and follower was a reciprocal one, but the ties that bound retainer and king were stronger than those between the housecarl and farm owner. The follower and the master were bound by ties of friendship and loyalty. The retainer was expected to fight for his master in war, to be loyal to him in all legal disputes, and to obey his orders. In return, the master protected and supported his retainers. It was primarily freemen who could become retainers. They lived with their leader and ate at his table. The band of retainers constituted a brotherhood with a code of honour, and in addition to the duties towards his leader, the retainer had responsibilities towards his comrades. (74-75).

In Norway, this was relationship was codified in the law. In the twelfth century, Iceland began to follow the Norwegian system though on a smaller scale. They were called “home men” (heimamenn) but they were

men who did not work on the farm or have any specific duties in the management of it. . . . they were the chieftains’ bodyguards; they were expected to follow them through thick and thin, and to fight by their side in battles (75).

Nevertheless,

the power struggle in Iceland was only in a few cases decided on the battlefield, it was usually first and foremost a question of non-physical tactics and manoeuvres. The sagas mainly point to the shrewdness of the chieftains as an explanation of why some chieftains survived the power struggles while others failed. (76).

Thus,

In sagas depicting Icelandic chieftains their appearance and physical attributes are less important than their mental qualities. (79).

Besides wisdom,

The sagas stress the generosity of the rulers. . . . Feasts and gifts were used to build up power and create or renew ties of friendship. Powerful secular leaders were described as vinsælir, which meant they had many friends. Amongst the rulers there was competition for the position of the most generous leader. The straightforward reason was that when a ruler was generous more men wanted to become his friends and supporters. (77-78).

These supporters included the relatives and kinsmen, which were called frændr (singular frændi, the participle of frjá meaning “to love,” which goes into English as friend). Supporters were thus those who loved their leaders. Leaders had to earn or win the love of their followers. When Ketill gathers his frændr at the beginning of the Laxdæla Saga, he consults with them about their course of action and lays out the options available and gives the reasons for his proposed decision and asks them for their support. They are allowed a chance to offer their counsel before a decision is finalized. It was a decision that the frændr could agree to and live with, or they would part ways.

The discussion Ketill initiates in Laxdæla Saga is interesting in another way. It centers on whether the group should submit to the Norwegian king and become his vassals. Ketill rejects this because, he argues, the group can expect no trausts from the king. The Old Norse term traust is the origin of the English term trust, but it means more than that. As E. V. Gordon points out, traust includes “help, protection, support, confidence” (Gordon, An Introduction to Old Norse, 2nd. ed. [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1957], 390). One could trust one’s leader because they would provide help, protection and support which in turn inspired confidence. The leader’s actions showed that he was trustworthy. The Old English cognate is treow, of which the modern form is true. The leader needed to be true to his followers if he expected his followers to be true to him.

Loyalty was understood to follow certain conventions:

If the reigning king was not capable of fulfilling his obligations towards his friends, they were entitled to change sides. . . . There are not critical remarks . . . about the ‘traitors’ who turned away. (79).

In the twelfth century, however, the rex iustus ideology was introduced to Norway. In this ideology the king was

a rex iustus and God’s representative on earth. As such the king has power over life and death for all his subjects. Those who disobey him violate God’s will. The king "er sva mioc miclaðr oc tighnaðr aiorðu at aller skulu sva luta oc niga til hans sæm til Guðs. hann hævir oc sva mycit vælldi at hann ræðr hværs lifdagum þærs er i hans riki er sva sæm han vill. Lætr þann dræpa er hann vill en þann liva er hann vill." (69.)

The king was now supposedly deriving his power from God and did not have to build it up from below anymore. This meant that the king’s personal qualities, ideologically, were less important. The king was now God’s representative on earth with power over life and death for all his subjects. (84-85).

As a result,

The kin-based aristocracy was transformed into a service aristocracy which received its power from the king, who in turn derived his from God. (85).

This meant that the aristocracy did not need to build up their power anymore through their ability to protect, and with the aid of gifts and feasts, since the support of the householders was no longer essential for their higher positions in society. Thus feasting and extensive exchange of gifts between chieftains and householders gradually declined. The strong and critical mutual vertical ties of friendship between chieftains and householders disappeared. Previously, the chieftains had been obliged to defend and assist their supporters. As the kin’s servants, however, they had to prosecute and punish those who had formerly been their friends. The duty of the aristocracy was to govern rather than to lead. These changes meant that the personal qualities which had been so important to build power previously now became more or less superfluous. (86).

The rex iustus ideology thus turn the aristocracy into managers instead of leaders. So, for the Vikings, leaders built their support through their personal qualities and because they had to support as well as be supported by their followers. The rex iustus ideology change that and they only had to please their superiors. Instead of protecting those under them, they persecuted them. The rex iustus ideology thus gave a new direction to the rulers who could now prosper because of their lack of leadership rather than be held back by it.

It is little wonder that so many of the sagas were written at this time, looking back on a time when Vikings were leaders rather than sycophantic servants.

***

All of this provides a helpful backdrop in considering some statements from the Doctrine and Covenants.

The idea with the rex iustus was that the ruler was the representative of God and should be followed by virtue of his position whether or not his position was just. This idea is rejected by God: “No power and influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood” (D&C 121:41). Instead a leader is expected to develop those qualities of mind and character that will make people want to follow him (D&C 121:41-43) so that the follower “may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death” (D&C 121:44). The individual who uses his appointed position to gratify his own pride and vain ambition “to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness” will find that there is an end to “the authority of that man.” (D&C 121:37). People will not willingly follow such an individual and thus he loses any authority over them. A leader cannot betray his followers and expect them to follow him; he will have lost his authority.

While in the Church the priesthood is given “by prophecy and by revelation” and thus from the top down (management), God expects those in such positions to build support from the bottom up (leadership). Thus in the Gospel, the leader is expected to serve not to be served. They must earn the trust of those they are supposed to lead rather than expect that it will come automatically by virtue of their position.

In the Church, we usually give a new leader the benefit of the doubt and are willing, at least initially, to follow them simply because of their position. Trust and goodwill, however, can be destroyed or erode away by failure to serve and support and persuade followers. If followers perceive that a priesthood leader is untrustworthy, then they will not trust him. Thus a leader needs to be true, not only to God and the Gospel, but also to the people he serves.

To have managers in the Church, rather than leaders, is not following the commandments that God has given us.

Leaders to Managers Revisited

One of Hugh Nibley’s most controversial articles was the commencement address he gave at Brigham Young University in August 1983 entitled “Leaders to Managers: The Fatal Shift.”[1] It was so controversial that when an abridged version of this address was published in BYU’s alumni magazine, one of the editors was sacked.

In this address, Nibley makes a number of observations about the differences between leaders and managers:

Leaders are movers and shakers, original, inventive, unpredictable, imaginative, full of surprises that discomfit the enemy in war and the main office in peace. For the managers are safe, conservative, predictable, conforming organization men and team players, dedicated to the establishment.[2]

In war 

we think of great generals from David and Alexander on down, sharing their beans or matzah with their men, calling them by their first names, marching along with them in the heat, sleeping on the ground, and being first over the wall.[3] 

The men who delighted their superiors, i.e. the managers, got the high commands, while the men who delighted the lower ranks, i.e. the leaders, got reprimands.[4]

‘If you love me,’ said the greatest of all leaders, ‘you will keep my commandments.’ ‘If you know what is good for you,’ says the manager, ‘you will keep my commandments and not make waves.’ That is why the rise of management always marks the decline, alas, of culture.”[5] 

(One wonders what Nibley might say to the massive increase in administration and bureaucracy in higher education since he gave his speech.)

Nibley draws a long comparison from the Book of Mormon between Moroni, the leader, and Amalickiah, whom Nibley depicts as a manager.[6] The comparison between the two sides makes a convenient rhetorical juxtaposition with clear good guys and bad guys on opposite sides of a war. But it is the least convincing portion of Nibley’s argument because the point seems stretched.

The more interesting comparison is between Moroni, the leader, and Pahoran, the manager. As Nibley observes of the general situation the manager, Pahoran, had the higher command, not the leader, Moroni. These two men were on the same side and a key interchange between them is preserved. Moroni was not in possession of all the facts (“we know not . . .” Alma 60:18), but neither was Pahoran (“I was somewhat worried concerning what we should do” Alma 61:19).

Moroni’s correspondence is clearly angry and moves almost immediately to an attack on Pahoran: “great has been your neglect towards us” (Alma 60:5). “Can you think to sit upon your thrones in a state of thoughtless stupor, while your enemies are spreading the work of death around you?” (Alma 60:7), and ends with a threat of mutiny: “I will come unto you speedily” (Alma 60:35). “I will stir up insurrection among you” (Alma 60:27). Moroni does this, in part because of a lack of information, and in part from the covenants he has made: “I, Moroni, am constrained, according to the covenant which I have made to keep the commandments of my God” (Alma 60:34).

This confrontation could have ended disastrously as the Nephites were in the midst of a war that was not going their way (Alma 59:5-8). If Pahoran had been a typical manager, he would have sacked Moroni immediately upon receipt of his mutinous letter. Instead, Pahoran musters his administrative skill to make amends: “Behold, I say unto you, Moroni, that I do not joy in your great afflictions, yea, it grieves my soul” (Alma 61:2). “In your epistle you have censured me, but it mattereth not; I am not angry” (Alma 61:9). Pahoran appeals to Moroni’s principles in his response (‘stand fast in the liberty with which God hath made us free’ seems to have been a patriotic slogan of the time; Mosiah 23:13; Alma 58:40; 61:21). Pahoran proposes a slightly altered strategy that unites Moroni and Pahoran against common enemies.

The end of the book of Alma shows that leaders and managers do not have to be on opposite sides of the conflict.  There does have to be humility, trust, forgiveness, and recognition of the real enemy. Only when the leader and the manager are willing to put aside their differences and work toward a common goal is there real success.

Unfortunately, most managers typically are not as humble or forgiving as Pahoran was. Then again, most are not in as dire predicaments as Pahoran was. Given the typical management response resembles that of Amalickiah, perhaps Nibley was right after all.

---

[1] Hugh Nibley, “Leaders to Managers: The Fatal Shift,” in Brother Brigham Challenges the Saints, CWHN 13 (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1994), 491-508.

[2] Nibley, “Leaders to Managers,” 496.

[3] Nibley, “Leaders to Managers,” 496.

[4] Nibley, “Leaders to Managers,” 496.

[5] Nibley, “Leaders to Managers,” 497.

[6] Nibley, “Leaders to Managers,” 499-502.

Today's Maxwell Quote

From this talk:

Happily, General Naaman received honest but helpful feedback, not from fellow generals, but from his orderlies. (See 2 Kgs. 5:1–14.)