Hi Billy, Amusingly, I just had lunch with a journalist who's working on a biography of Steve Jobs.
The central issues involved are very similar: can you be both a great leader and a decent human being? If so, how? If not, how close can [or should] you aspire to become? Reminds me a bit of the Star Trek episode: The Enemy Within (episode) - Memory Alpha, the Star Trek Wiki I agree, a Radical Centrist synthesis would be a great achievement… -- Ernie P. On Jan 9, 2013, at 2:10 PM, [email protected] wrote: > > > > . > . > . > Machiavelli's The Prince, part 1: the challenge of power > > The first of a series examining the great political tract of the Italian > Renaissance asks: how do we utilise power to do good while utilising evil to > keep power? > > > Nick Spencer > guardian.co.uk, Monday 26 March 2012 > Niccolo Machiavelli shocked his contemporaries, and can still shock us, with > his easy acceptance of the role of violence and cruelty in worldly success. > At one point in his best-known work, The Prince, he argues casually that > Fortune should be raped: "Fortune is female and if you want to stay on top of > her you have to slap and thrust … she's more likely to yield that way." > > It's a horrible picture that manages to upset us in a way that the book's > central theme upset its first readers: what if the Christian idea that > politics must be subject to justice was wrong? What if might is actually > right? > > This was not a theoretical issue. Machiavelli lived his entire life in an age > in which deceit and brutality usually won through. His genius lay in his > ability to see and his honesty in admitting this. > > He was born in Florence in 1469, the year that Lorenzo de' Medici (not the > Lorenzo to whom The Prince is dedicated) assumed power. "Assumed" is > technically misleading as Florence had been a republic for more than a > century. However, the system of regular, short-term elections through which > power was diffused had proved perilously unstable. By the mid 15th century, > real power lay in the hands of a small number of rich families, the Medicis > supreme among them. This disjunction between political theory and reality > would leave a deep mark on Machiavelli. > > The confusion within Florence was matched by disorder without, as the five > main Italian powers – Florence, Venice, Milan, the Papal states and Naples – > lived in a state of constant intrigue, negotiation and conflict, made more > complex still by the invasion of the French king, Charles VIII, at Milanese > invitation, in 1494. > > This invasion saw the humiliation of Florence and the temporary overthrow of > the Medicis when Lorenzo's son, Piero, surrendered to the French and was > replaced by Girolamo Savonarola, a puritanical, book-burning Dominican friar, > who sought to reform the church and Florentine society. His execution at the > stake, four years later, changed Florence's political course once again, > opening the door to Machiavelli's diplomatic career and further confirming > that "a ruler must never imagine that any decision he takes is safe", as he > put it at the end of The Prince. > > If, then, there was no such thing as complete political security, how could a > ruler hope to survive, let alone triumph? Machiavelli's answer is sketched > out in The Prince, which he wrote in 1513. > > He argued, along with many contemporaries, that while a leader could never > fully conquer the goddess Fortune, he could at least make an effort to woo > and master her. Where he differed from his contemporaries was how. > > Weak leaders, in his experience, were disastrous. Piero de Medici had been > incompetent and submissive. Piero Soderini, the head of state for whom > Machiavelli would work as a diplomat, was hopelessly indecisive. Even > Savonarola, although forceful himself, had no recourse to force and thus "was > overthrown along with all his reforms when people stopped believing in him." > > By contrast, strong leaders achieved (a measure of) security and fame. Pope > Julius II achieved all three (military) aims he set himself. Pope Alexander > VI "showed what could be done with finance and force." Supremely, there was > Cesare Borgia, Alexander's son, of whom Machiavelli says: "I wouldn't know > what better advice to give a ruler new to power than to follow his example." > > Machiavelli charts Cesare's machinations at length, detailing how he > disguised his intentions, weakened opposing factions, broke old loyalties, > enriched allies and eliminated rivals. At one point he tells how Cesare > appointed a "cruel, no-nonsense man" to pacify a newly acquired territory. > The appointment was successful but Cesare, recognising how his man's severity > had provoked local enmity, "found a pretext … had [him] beheaded and his > corpse put on display one morning in the piazza … with a wooden block and a > bloody knife beside … The ferocity of the spectacle," Machiavelli records, > "left people both shocked and gratified." > > Cesare was not simply a mindless butcher, however. Elsewhere, Machiavelli > tells how, having taken control of Romagna, Cesare found existing rulers "had > been stripping the people of their wealth rather than governing them". As a > result, he decided that "good government was required to pacify the area". > > What impressed Machiavelli was not so much Cesare's viciousness as his > readiness to do what was necessary when it was necessary. Only this kind of > cold-blooded determination would allow a prince to stay atop Fortune and > survive. > > Instinctively, we want morality to show us a world where these choices don't > have to be made. But the challenge of Machiavelli, for Christians and > atheists alike, is that he confronts us with a terrible argument: we cannot > do good without power but we cannot gain power, nor keep it, without doing > evil. > > . > ------------------------------ > Machiavelli's The Prince, part two: humanism and the lessons of history > > The Prince follows humanist convention in commending virtuous rulers such as > Marcus Aurelius – but subverts it by praising tyrants for their cruelty > > > Nick Spencer > guardian.co.uk, Monday 2 April 2012 > . > It is a sadness of the present age that "humanism" has become such a narrow > and partisan term, effectively denoting atheism with a bit of good PR. It > wasn't always like that. Machiavelli was the inheritor of a tradition of > humanism that dated back to the 14th century and was far from anti-Christian. > > > As ever more ancient manuscripts were discovered in monastic libraries in the > middle ages, a new attitude to the classical world emerged. Cicero, Tacitus, > Thucydides and Lucretius were valued, not only for their rhetorical > brilliance but also for their fundamentally different view of the world and, > in particular, of human nature. > > > Humanism contended that contrary to received wisdom, formed and sustained > under the shadow of St Augustine, human corruption was not total. Humans > could make meaningful choices about their lives and destiny. They could be > genuinely virtuous. Human dignity lay not so much in the possession of an > immortal soul as in the capacity for and exercise of freedom. Fortune (which > could be influenced) as opposed to Providence (which could not) became the > presiding genius. Humans were made for excellence. All this was achieved > within a thoroughly Christian framework. Embracing ideas of dignity, freedom > and excellence did not entail rejecting Christianity, merely the Augustinian > flavour of it to which most people had become accustomed. > > > It did, however, involve a different attitude to the world, to work and, most > noticeably, to education. This was partly in who should be taught: now all > gentlemen would benefit from studying, not just those destined for the > church. But it was also in what should be taught. Scripture and scholasticism > gave way to the thought and literature of the classical world, without which > no education could be considered complete. This was, in Quentin Skinner's > words, an "almost embarrassingly long-lived" idea, shaping the English > educational system until the time of Harold Macmillan. > > > The Prince stands firmly within this tradition. The whole "mirror for > princes" genre, of which it is the most famous example, although having > pre-humanist roots, was a typically humanist enterprise, in particular the > way it chose to affirm rather than renounce worldly ambition. Within The > Prince, as with other such books of advice, examples from the ancient world > dominate. "A ruler must … exercise his mind [by] read[ing] history," > Machiavelli advises Lorenzo, "in particular accounts of great leaders and > their achievements." > > > The lessons of history need not be on the individual scale. Machiavelli was > fond of drawing examples from the Roman empire, explaining, for example, that > its stability was rooted in how "the Romans … never put off a war when they > saw trouble coming", or that its collapse was triggered "when they started > hiring Goths as mercenaries". If contemporary rulers sought greatness, there > was no greater example than the Roman empire. > > > Personal models were, however, more important. "Take as a model a leader > who's been much praised and admired and keep his examples and achievements in > mind at all times," Machiavelli advised. This is what ancient leaders > themselves had apparently done – Alexander the Great had modelled himself on > Achilles, Caesar on Alexander, Scipio on Cyrus – so it stood to reason that > what was modern ones should do. The Prince is peppered with such examples, > legends like Theseus and Romulus, or emperors like Marcus Aurelius, Pertinax > and Alexander, "benign, humane men who led unassuming lives, loving justice > and hating cruelty". It is, however, also populated by other ancient figures, > who were ruthless, manipulative or plain brutal. > > > This in itself was not unprecedented. The tradition of learning from the > mistakes and faults of others was itself an ancient one. What Machiavelli > did, however, was use such moral monsters for affirmative rather than > censorious purposes. These people were worth studying not because they were > wrong, but because they were strong. > > > Thus, in the same way as he drew a positive message from the example of > Cesare Borgia as we saw last week, he also wrote about emperors like > Commodus, Severus, Atoninus Caracalla and Maximinus, men who were "extremely > cruel and grasping", not to condemn but to learn from them. > > > Hannibal, for example, is lauded in a chapter about cruelty and compassion > because he led "a huge and decidedly multiracial army far from home" in which > there was no sign of dissent or rebellion. How? Machiavelli's answer is > simple. It was his "tremendous cruelty". Stories like this illustrate how > Machiavelli simultaneously used and subverted the humanist historical > tradition. "Historians are just not thinking," he writes tetchily at one > point, "when they praise [Hannibal] for this achievement and then condemn him > for cruelty." > > > It was entirely right that fellow humanists should seek to learn from > history. But they should at least do so honestly. > > . > > > ---------------------------- > Machiavelli's The Prince, part three: the personal in the political > > If the author's diplomatic career saturates The Prince, so does his > desperation for redemption after his fall from grace > > > Nick Spencer > guardian.co.uk, Monday 9 April 2012 > The Prince was a book of its time both politically (as we saw in week one) > and intellectually (last week). But it was also a personal book, and we miss > something of its power if we ignore its biographical context. > > Machiavelli's family was neither wealthy nor well-connected. His father, > Bernardo, was a lawyer and humanist who diligently grounded his son in the > studia humanitatis but was unable to arrange for him a life of aristocratic > luxury or even a cushy government stipend. > > Instead, although Machiavelli's early years are poorly documented, it seems > certain that it was a combination of humanist education, hard work and > intelligence that earned him a major appointment in 1498. Machiavelli was as > close to being a self-made man any anyone in Renaissance Florence. > > As secretary of the Ten of War, Florence's foreign affairs and war committee, > he was the city's highest-ranking diplomat for 14 years, leading embassies to > and spending months in the courts of the French king, the pope, the holy > Roman emperor, and others. The Prince was written by a man who, as he informs > Lorenzo de' Medici in the dedication, had "knowledge [that was] gained > through long experience of contemporary affairs". When it came to > geopolitics, Machiavelli knew whereof he spoke. > > The author's diplomatic career saturates The Prince. Alongside the Greek and > Roman models so favoured by humanists, the book is populated with > contemporary examples and lessons, many of them transposed, almost verbatim, > from Machiavelli's personal correspondence and legations. Thus his breathless > praise for Cesare Borgia's ruthlessness, his admiration of Pope Julius II's > boldness, and his criticism of the Emperor Maximilian's ineptitude passed > largely unaltered from diplomatic communiques into The Prince. > > Even when his diplomatic memos are not quite so obvious, Machiavelli's > experience remains in view. His time at the French court taught him that the > Florentine view of their city's power and importance was utterly naive and > inflated. If the republic wished to survive it needed to recognise how the > real world worked. The Prince offered some candid and blunt advice along > these lines, explicitly drawn from a career at the ambassadorial coalface. > The author was, in effect, leaking the diplomatic cables in order to help > "save [Italy] from the cruelty and barbarity of [the] foreigners" encroaching > upon it. > > The Prince is even more personal than this, however. In 1512, the Medicis, > with papal encouragement and Spanish help, defeated the Florentines and > dismantled the republic. Machiavelli found himself out of favour and out of > work. Worse, he was under suspicion for plotting against the new ruling clan > and was subsequently tortured by strappado, in which the body was hoisted to > the ceiling by wrists bound behind the back and then dropped to the floor, > thereby usually tearing the arms out of their sockets. > > Machiavelli survived, maintained his innocence and was released. But the > experience marked him. "Fear means fear of punishment, and that's something > people never forget," he wrote in the chapter 17, on cruelty and compassion. > > The Prince was Machiavelli's attempt to worm his way back into favour > following this disaster, and is marked not only by examples drawn from his > diplomatic career but by a heartfelt plea for preferment. This entailed the > mandatory obsequiousness that came with such "mirror for princes" books: > "your illustrious house … favoured by God and church … [is] well placed to > lead Italy to redemption," he writes towards the end of the book. > > More strikingly, however, it also involved a personal entreaty that sounded > clear and early in the book. The dedication explains how The Prince's wisdom > derived from what the author had "discovered and assimilated over many years > of danger and discomfort". The book was written because the author was "eager > myself to bring Your Highness some token of my loyalty". And it was hoped, > the dedication concluded, that "this small gift" would encourage "Your > Highness" to "look down on those far below" and to see "how very ungenerously > and unfairly life continues to treat me". If there is a dark and a desperate > tone to The Prince, it is because the author's life had, of late, taken a > dark and a desperate turn. > > The sensitive diplomatic material and the personal nature of The Prince helps > explain why, although written in 1513, the book was not published until after > Machiavelli's death, over 15 years later. For all its subsequent fame, it had > little immediate impact, at least not in the way Machiavelli had desired. The > Prince failed in its mission and Machiavelli lived the rest of his life in > political obscurity. > > . > ------------------- > Machiavelli's The Prince, part four: benevolence to complement brutality > > It is the model prince's humanity that makes him so disturbing. He's more > amoral than immoral – only staying in power matters > > > > Nick Spencer > guardian.co.uk, Monday 16 April 2012 > More than any other political theorist, Machiavelli's reputation precedes > him. Some people talk about Rawlsian ideas or Kantian ethics or a Hobbesian > world – usually those who want to sound clever and educated – but it's > perfectly fine to use the word Machiavellian without claiming to have read > The Prince. Everyone does and everyone knows what it means. > > It can come as something of a surprise, then, to find that Machiavelli wrote > in The Prince that "a man who becomes king … must make it an absolute > priority to win over the affection of the common people", or that "sensible > rulers and well-run states have done all they can … to keep the people happy > and satisfied; indeed this is one of a ruler's most important tasks." > > The ideal ruler is not, it seems, a dagger-wielding psychopath. On the > contrary, he "should go about things … humanely". Nor should he be a leader > in the sense of inspiring terror in everyone around him. On the contrary, "a > king must guard against being despised and hated", both by noblemen and > commoners. > > Noblemen, or at least some of them, must feel comfortable speaking honestly > to their prince. A leader who "trusts no one makes himself unbearable". > Accordingly, "he should make it clear that the more openly [ministers] speak, > the more welcome will their advice be". > > Respecting commoners is, if anything, more important still. "People's > aspirations are more honourable that those of the nobles," Machiavelli > admits. Therefore, "a ruler must avoid any behaviour that will lead to his > being hated or held in contempt". > > This is more than hot air. It means that the ruler should "respect" the > "guilds and districts" into which "every city" is divided, and "go to their > meetings from time to time, showing what a humane a generous person he is". > It means that "if he really has to have someone executed, he should only do > it when he has proper justification and manifest cause". > > And it means that he should instate and protect sound public institutions. > France, he says, is a one of the better governed states of our age, "full of > good institutions", the most important of which is "parliament and > parliamentary authority". "There couldn't be a better or more sensible > institution," he gushes, "nor one more conducive to the security of kind and > the realm." > > None of which sounds particularly "Machiavellian". > > It will be clear the Machiavelli's model prince is no political Satan, > bidding "evil, be thou my good". Indeed, were he to have been so, he would, > paradoxically, have been less shocking and somewhat easier to deal with. > Monsters, after all, are manageable. Remorseless sadism may nauseate us but > if we can convince ourselves that such people are completely different from > us, not even of the same species, we do not feel quite so threatened by their > actions. > > By contrast, it is precisely because its model prince is recognisably human, > valuing many of the things we value, and pursuing paths that we ourselves > would advocate, that The Prince is so disturbing. He is one of us, too > realistic, too credible to be readily dismissed. You may not always admit so > in public, Machiavelli whispers to us, but you too think like this, don't you? > > Machiavelli's moral universe is not one of unredeemed or unredeemable > immorality, therefore. It is subtler, more amoral than immoral. By all means, > govern well, execute sparingly, respect institutions, and invite honest > advice, Machiavelli says, while in the same breath telling the prince that he > must execute some of the coldest and most brutal acts of political violence. > > So, for example, he reports that there are three ways of keeping control over > newly conquered but previously self-governing states: "Reduce them to rubble > … go and live there yourself … let them go on living under their own laws … > and install a [puppet] government." Each has its own merits but "the truth is > that the only sure way to hold such places is to destroy them". That isn't > mandatory. You may decide not to raze them, in which case "the best way to > hold a previously self-governing city it with the help of its own citizens". > But it is still an option. > > Machiavelli doesn't advocate violence for its own sake. On the contrary, he > repeatedly insists that such frenzied aggression is counter-productive. What > is shocking is the way in which the brutal rubs shoulders with the benign, > the vicious with the virtuous in a matter-of-fact way. He is not so much > saying the morally wrong way is the necessarily right way for a prince to go > about his business. Rather, he is implying that the morally right way is > simply irrelevant. What matters is staying in power. > > > -- > Centroids: The Center of the Radical Centrist Community > <[email protected]> > Google Group: http://groups.google.com/group/RadicalCentrism > Radical Centrism website and blog: http://RadicalCentrism.org -- Centroids: The Center of the Radical Centrist Community <[email protected]> Google Group: http://groups.google.com/group/RadicalCentrism Radical Centrism website and blog: http://RadicalCentrism.org
