Book 3 in the continuing exploration of Leadership and the Liberal Arts:
Plato, The Republic
[First, a translation note.
I have read this before in the Jowett translation, but this time I read
the Bloom translation—it isn’t even close.
Read Bloom.]
This is a mammothly sprawling book—it is a conversation
which wanders all over the place, constantly circling back to the general theme—but
even there, it isn’t entirely clear what is the general theme to which the argument
keeps circling back. Justice? Good Government? Education?
Moral Character? Previously, I had read the book as an argument about a
Good Society; this would put the book in the same category as Locke’s Second Treatise or Hobbes Leviathan or Hayek’s The Constitution of Liberty. So, it was rather interesting to read it this
time, thinking about it as a manual on leadership. Part of the definition of a Great Book is that
you can reread it and learn something new every time; with this book, such a
thing is easy; just pick a new central organizing principle and embark on a
journey. It is a fun book; I would have hated
it had I read it is a political theory or a philosophy class, though. This is truly one of those books where you
just go along for the ride and see where you end up. About halfway though I started wondering how
well the whole thing would work as a stage play. A curious production, but I suspect, if acted
well (which would not be easy), it could be great. The acting would be a problem though—it wouldn’t
be easy to convey the sense that this is just a rambling conversation—the temptation
to make it more directed or philosophical-seeming would be quite large.
What do we learn about leadership? Well, first, Socrates is, as always, in pursuit
of Leadership, with a capital L; the Truth (capital T) about Leadership, the Form
of Leadership of which all earthly examples are merely pale reflections. This is, after all, where Plato’s Cave originates—you
are all in a cave staring at shadows, and I have gone forth into the light and
have come back to tell you all (I shall tell you all) about Leadership, the
real thing, not the shadow of the real thing. You want to know the Truth? To be a Leader, you obviously must be a philosopher,
a true lover of wisdom, someone who pursues knowledge and wisdom to the exclusion
of all else. The Leader is the one who understands
the Truth. You want Justice? You need a leader who understands Justice,
True Justice, not the pale imitation which normal people call justice, but the Form
of Justice. You want, whether you know
it or not, The Philosopher King. (Not to be confused with the Witch King of
Angmar—though, come to think of it, there is a disturbing similarity between Plato’s
Philosopher King and Tolkien’s Witch-King. Intentional?)
There are two immediate implications of Plato's argument (or should
that be Socrates’ argument?—it is never easy to tell) which are rather interesting:
1. There are not different types of leadership. There is only good leadership and bad
leadership; good leadership is that which comes closest to the Platonic Ideal
of Leadership.
2. True Leaders will undoubtedly fail in a real society because
it would take a True Leader to recognize the importance of True Leadership. The masses—all the farmers and soldiers, the people
obsessed with honor and material gain—will have no ability to appreciate or
even understand the best leaders. All those
masses are still stuck in their caves, and they cannot comprehend the Beauty
and Perfection of Leadership as it Truly Is.
Those two points are related. We think there are different types of leaders
because we cannot recognize True Leaders.
And so, the best Leaders, those who would be closest to the Platonic
Ideal, end up not being Leaders in the world in which we live. So, imagine the Platonic Ideal coming to
earth and walking among us; that Leader does not Lead because nobody
follows. So, is the perfect Leader still
a leader if nobody follows? Is the ability
to attract followers a part of the Platonic Ideal of Leadership? Why not?
In some ways it is hard to take the idea of the Philosopher
King seriously because, quite frankly, people with a Doctorate in Philosophy
are not great material for leadership. (Nb.
Buckley’s quip that he would rather be ruled by the first 200 names in the Boston
phone book than by the faculty of Harvard.)
But, Socrates would have an easy time noting that our contemporaries
with doctorates in philosophy are hardly lovers of wisdom; they are the sham philosophers,
the charlatans, who masquerade as knowledgeable so that they can get paid to do
very little in a tenured sinecure.
So, set aside the charlatans. Imagine the true philosopher, the person
truly committed to gaining wisdom and knowledge. Would you want that person as the leader of
your society or organization? The short answer
is “No.” But why not? I suspect it is because when we think about
leadership we mean more than simply knowing where all the parts should go, but
we also imagine a mechanical or practical skill—the ability to get things done—and
it is not at all obvious that knowing what would be best thing to do is the
same thing as accomplishing the best things.
In Plato’s Republic, a society which could never actually arise on
Earth, it makes sense to have the Philosophers as Kings. But, here on Planet Earth? It’s not enough to have seen the light; you
also need to have the ability to inspire the rest of us to want to leave the cave
and the ability to lead the expedition.
Or, at a minimum, it would be nice to get a leader who can
stop the world from spinning out of control.
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